"He is good to me, it's ..."
It wasn't just her that was struggling to come up with an excuse for my Father, I was as well. It was their third wedding anniversary, and he hadn't just forgotten about it, to add insult to injury, he'd called to tell her that he wouldn't be back until late. And worse, he didn't even have a good reason for not being at home on this special day. He was going out with some friends, when he should be here with Susan, my Step-Mom. And it wasn't the first time that he'd neglected her, in fact, it had become a regular occurrence. If he was to carry on like this then his marriage wasn't going to last. Like my Mother, she would eventually leave him for a better man.
"It's not a big deal."
While saying it, she'd shrugged her shoulders, and when she'd finished I got a big smile, but she didn't fool me. The deep sadness in her eyes told me, that really, it was a big deal. Seeing her like this was breaking my heart. I needed to do something that would make her feel better.
It was time to give her a big hug!
As I held her tight she gave me another smile, but this time it was genuine. She was a curvy woman, so hugging her felt good. My Father was a fool. It should be him, and not me, that was enjoying the embrace. She was forty years old, twice my age, but she was still an attractive woman. If she wasn't my Step-Mom then I'd be using all of my youthful charm to get her into my bed.
When I ended it, she sighed.
"You're a good Son, the best."
That was nice to hear, especially calling me Son, but would she have said it if she knew that I regularly jerked off while sniffing her used panties?
Ten minutes later, when I left her to go to my room, her mood had improved. However, later, when I went downstairs to make myself a coffee, her tear stained-cheeks told me that she'd had a relapse. That made me angry, not with her, but with my Father because he was the cause of this. She deserved to be treated a lot better than this.
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
The look on her face said yes, and she opened her mouth to tell me what it was, but then she changed her mind, suddenly closing it without saying a word. I was surprised to see that her cheeks were now flushed, was she blushing? Was what she wanted to say, something that was inappropriate? Thinking about what that might be sent a surge of excitement through my body. But that was short-lived, replaced by guilt because she was my Step-Mom. I shouldn't be thinking about her in that way. However, because she was so hot, sometimes I did. And lately, it was becoming a more regular occurrence.
Then I noticed it, but only because her eyes were fixed on it. It was a small bottle, and because she was staring at it, it must be important to her. I was curious.
While pointing to it, I said, "What is it?"
She didn't answer, instead she handed it to me. After reading the label on it I couldn't help smiling. It was massage oil, and unless I was mistaken, she wanted me to use it on her.
In a low voice, as if she was admitting to a guilty secret, she said, "I bought it for our anniversary. I wanted your Father to give me a massage."
I must be right. He wasn't here, so she wanted me to take his place. However, when she'd tried to tell me that, she'd lost her nerve. I could understand that. It was an intimate act, probably something that I shouldn't do. But it was just a massage, and she needed something to cheer her up, so I was going to agree to it.
"I can do it."
When her face lit up I knew that it was a yes, but then it suddenly changed. Despite wanting to, she was reluctantly going to say no. But I wasn't having that.
While giving her my best smile, and in my most commanding voice, I said, "And I'm not taking no for an answer."
There was a slight hesitation from her, and then I got an enthusiastic OK.
When I saw her I nearly laughed. Five minutes ago she'd gone to her bedroom to get ready. I'd just joined her, and what I was seeing was comical. She was lying face down on the bed, fully clothed. Only her arms, and her legs from the knee down, were exposed. I couldn't give her a good massage when she was like that.
"You're a bit overdressed for a massage," and then, to make it clear what she needed to do to correct it, I added, "Take everything off except your bra and panties."
For a few seconds there was an awkward silence, and it looked as if this would end even before it had started. Then she spoke.
"Silly me. Your Father says I don't have any brains."
That was news to me, and hearing it made my blood boil. She was too good for him. I loved my Father, but tomorrow he was going to get a stern talking to. Some men didn't know how to treat a woman, and he was one of them.
To give her some privacy, I looked away while she undressed. She was now back on the bed, face down, but this time just in her underwear.
Because it was her wedding anniversary she'd been smartly dressed. Her top was stylish, as was her knee-length skirt. Both of them were now on the chair that was next to the bed. But it was her bra and panties that she'd made a special effort with. She was a busty woman, so even though she was lying face down, her breast weren't completely squashed against the bed. From what I could see of it, her bra was extremely small. And her panties were the same, stretched tight over her ample hips and plump bottom. This was definitely underwear for a special occasion.
She was wearing them to excite my Father, but it was lucky me that they were really exciting!
As I massaged her shoulders, using the oil that she'd recently bought, I kept looking at her underwear. When it was time for her to turn over they would be very revealing, perhaps even more than when she wears a bikini. I couldn't wait, my cock was already straining against my trousers.
My hands were now on her back, slowly moving outwards. The sides of her big breasts were visible, and even though I knew that it was wrong, I had an uncontrollable urge to touch them. To caress them with a lover's touch. However, when I got close I was apprehensive. She was a calm person, slow to anger, but even so, suddenly touching her tits might freak her out. I should stop now before it was too late, but I wasn't sure that I could, even if I wanted to.
"That's nice."