The blond girl in long pink pajamas pressed her topless roommate against the wall and had a hand down the front of her friend's sleepwear. They kissed, and in response, I moved my hand more rapidly up and down my shaft, my orgasm approaching. Quicker; tighter, as the girls found their way to the bed and I felt pre-cum lubricate my masturbation. Nearly there! One going down on the other, her face buried in her lover's sex. So close...
The phone vibrated in my hand, startling me, and a caller I.d. popped up over the action on the small screen.
"Mom." I slowed my breathing. "Hello."
"Whatcha doin'?"
Caught nearing completion, I felt myself unnecessarily blush and struggled to come up with a lie.
"Ah, just watching a movie," I told the truth.
"Oh yeah, what one?"
"Oh, nothing you'd know. What's going on?" I quickly changed the subject.
"Your father's gone away again for work," she informed me. "I wanted to ask a little favor of you?"
My hand remaining on my erection, it was actually somewhat exciting talking to my mother over the phone. I recalled similar in my late teens. Receiving a grateful blowjob from a past girlfriend. My parents away on vacation and calling home to be sure all was okay. God, that had been almost fifteen years ago, I realized, and wondering where the time had gone, brought myself back to the conversation at hand.
Dad traveling on work trips wasn't a new thing and I supposed she needed me to go around and mow the lawns, change a blown lightbulb?
"Yeah, what's up?" I continued to gently stroke my cock, feeling just a little shame at my action.
"Well, it's a big one actually," she divulged and I smirked at her unbeknownst double entendre as she continued. "Work's having after-hours drinks. A kind of party. And with your father being called away last minute, well, I really don't want to go alone. It'll be an open bar," Mom threw in to apparently sway me.
I inwardly groaned. A party with a bunch of people I didn't know. A work party at that. It didn't sound the most enticing of offers. I then thought of the free alcohol. It was a late start at work the next day. There was the possibility of a free feed as well. I'd also be catching up with Mom whom I'd admittedly not seen in months. It was then the guilt of touching my cock whilst talking to her cut in and I agreed to her request.
"What time tonight?" I asked and her answer came quickly.
"Oh, it's not tonight. It's Friday," she replied and then added another pivotal factor before hanging up, a wicked delight in her voice. "And it's a costume party!"
*
What was I complaining about really? Yes, it was the loss of a Friday night. But what had I planned myself? The hope of an arranged Tinder date? A bar crawl with some friends? Mom had texted back immediately with the news a costume had already been arranged for me, so all I really had to do was show up and be the pleasant son to her colleagues. I could do that.
I arrived no more than ten minutes early Friday night and let myself into my family home, music playing and an opened bottle of white wine on the benchtop in the kitchen. Calling out my presence, Mom made it out of her bedroom and down the hall, empty wine glass in hand. Clearly having just stepped from the shower, she wasted no time in greeting me with a hug and kiss; the smell of wine strong on her, I wondered if it wasn't the only bottle that had been opened that afternoon? As she poured herself another glass and I waved away her offer of one myself, I happened to notice something I hadn't at first.
Her robe.
Tied securely around the waist, it clung tight to her body. Too tight. With the sheen of water still on her legs, it seemed she'd forgone toweling due to my arrival and merely wrapped herself in the thin white robe on her departure from the bathroom. The effect was the gradual dampening of the satin or silk. Most prominent upon her breast. Even as I tried not to watch, the pink of her nipples showed through the material and the sight became more and more uncomfortable. To the point where I broke into her small talk conversation and asked where my costume was? Simply for a chance to get away from the situation.
"Oh, it's in your room Honey," Mom, even after my ten years out of the family home referred to my old bedroom.
To be honest, I was actually looking forward to trying it on. When she'd texted 'Batman' as the answer to what I would be wearing, I was somewhat excited. The fanboy in me coming out. What I found lying in a clear plastic wrapper upon my bed, however, wasn't the Batman I had in mind.
Adam West. Not Christian Bale. There was a grimace as I held the clearly inexpensive spandex costume in my hands but I thought I'd reserve my final judgment until I had it on.
"Did you find it alright?" Mom needlessly called from the hallway and I laughed at her concern.
"Ah, yeah!" I yelled back. "You left some details out!"
I heard her giggle from the other side of the door.
"Well, we had to match," she replied. "I'm going as Julie Newmar's Catwoman."
I tried to picture Mom dressed as the character and the image wouldn't come, focusing instead on getting myself into my suit, until finally, job done, I turned to the mirror and wasn't entirely upset at the reflection.
There was a problem, however. And though not fatal, it did affect the overall look. I was wearing boxer shorts and the tightness of the one-piece spandex (no extra outside underpants) revealed their material and even the checked print through the thin fabric. It looked stupid, and happy with how my chest and arms appeared in the body-hugging design, I wanted to look my best all over. I began the task of removing the costume.
Boxer shorts off, I again stepped into the bodysuit and pulled it over me. I hadn't expected how pleasant the silky spandex would feel upon my now exposed genitals and as it pressed onto me, I could feel myself swell slightly at the sensation. Cape on. Cowl, yellow utility belt, gloves, and boots, I looked back into the mirror and was suitably satisfied with the result. It left nothing to the imagination, however. The clear outline of my dick and balls. Who'd be looking? I declared with fists pressing my hip and chest out in a superhero stance, before I confidently left the room.
In the kitchen, Mom still hadn't returned and I took up the earlier offer of wine, pouring myself a glass for confidence. It was as I lowered it from my lips that I heard the click of heels enter the room and turned to see her approach. It wasn't what I'd struggled to picture.
"Ooh, I'll have another one too Batman!" She purred as she walked towards me and I didn't know where to look.
She was dressed as Catwoman alright, but the costume was significantly different from that of the television show of the '70s. Feeling myself begin to blush, I stared straight into her face but my peripheral vision allowed me to still take in her appearance below. The black catsuit, more a bodystocking, was entirely see-through! Was she not aware? An amulet of sorts hung around her neck, dropping down between her surprisingly (for her age) gravity-defying breasts. Her nipples, which I'd admittedly spied earlier, were again clearly visible. But it was under the gold belt around her waist where the most contention lay.
