Alone in the house, back from school, Greg lounged on the easy chair in the living room, flipping through channels on the TV. He'd thrown on jeans and a t-shirt when he came home, and fixed himself a sandwich which now sat in a plate on the coffee table, half-eaten.
When the top of the hour hit, he eagerly switched over to the music video channel for their all hip-hop hour. Greg didn't like the music at all, but he knew it was the number-one place to see big butts shaking and shimmying. In almost every video voluptuous black girls in hotpants and thongs danced in time to the music. Greg's cock got hard and strained against his jeans, and he idly rubbed the outline with his hand.
Inevitably, his thoughts drifted to his mother - the way she'd been dressing around the house lately, her teasing, and of course their encounter last night. Greg was confused, and even tried to bring up the subject with some of his friends at school, to get some advice. He asked them a few questions about 'women in general', and what he should do if one was coming onto him. 'Hit that booty' and 'rock that ass' were the sort of sophomoric answers that he received. When he asked what he should do if it was inappropriate to have sex with that particular woman, they just told him, 'damn, that just makes it hotter!' and 'fuck her, cum on her face, smack her, and say wham-bam-thank you ma'am!'
Of course, none of them could guess that the woman in question was his mom - in fact, most of them thought he was just making it up, as Greg was usually quite shy around girls and hadn't had a lot of experience in one-on-one dating.
As though summoned by his thoughts, Greg heard his mother's car arrive in the driveway. He switched the TV to the sports highlights channel, and tried to hide his erection.
He heard his mom walk in, and moments later she peeked into the room. Mary looked like her 'old' self; conservatively dressed in washed-out colours, indeed her whole personality seemed tired and washed-out. The stereotypical efficient but frigid woman at the office. All business.
"Hi there, Greg."
"Hi mom." She stepped forward and Greg saw another shopping bag hanging at her side.
"Hey Greg, can I ask you something?" She seemed a little concerned. Greg nodded his head, faking disinterest by keeping one eye on the TV. "Last night...you didn't mind did you?"
Greg hesitated.
"You liked it?" she asked again.
"Uh, yeah, sure..." Greg stammered. "I mean, yeah, of course."
"You don't want me to stop?"
"N-No." Greg shivered as he said it.
Mary sighed in relief and a smile lit up her face. "Great! Don't go anywhere, I'll be back as soon as I can!" She turned and hurried up the stairs and to her room.
For a moment Greg thought this was a chance to get out - slip out of the house and not come back until his mom had gone to sleep. But he decided to stay, though it was a choice made partly by his heart and his feelings for his mother, and partly by his half-hard cock, which he reached down to rub some more.
*****
The first noise he heard was heels on the kitchen floor. As Greg's mother walked out of the kitchen into the living room, Greg's eyes widened.
Platform high-heels with delicate black leather bindings were on her bare feet. The pants she wore would look ridiculous on any woman over twenty - on Mary, at about twice that age, they looked so wrong they were right. Thin and skin-tight, inch-wide horizontal stripes alternated in black and hot-pink; Greg got dizzy just scanning her body. Above the tight waistband was a cute little bulge of flesh, as though the pants could barely keep in that much ass and were on the verge of exploding. Her midriff was bare and her large breasts bounced around in a flimsy fishnet top. Again, she was wearing the sexy tortoiseshell glasses.
"Aw, shit," Mary sighed, and brought a bottle of beer to her lips. She took a gulp and then threw her hair back. "It's nice to get another day of work out of the way, you know?" She then looked down at the bottle of beer and handed it to Greg, breasts jiggling as she leaned over, "Ah, here, I got this for you."
"Um, thanks," Greg said, and took the bottle. With all the condensation on the cool glass it almost slipped through his fingers. He took a sip and was thankful for the coolness in his mouth and in his hand, though it did little to calm the fires that were burning inside.
Greg's mother strutted in front of him, stepping slowly from one foot then the other, feeling her legs rub together with every step, admiring herself as though Greg wasn't even there.
"It's such a relief," Mary said, absent-mindedly, "Getting home, throwing off that outside world. Home where we can be ourselves, huh?" Mary smiled at Greg, and her eyes twinkled. "Just us."
She stepped over to the TV, which was still on, and put her hands on the top and then shoved her ass back, right in Greg's direction, until stood with her back arched, ass up in the air, legs straight and spread.
"Lemmie ask you something, baby dear...you don't think my ass is too big, is it?"
Greg drank in the sight in front of him, his mother posing like a hardcore model, her ass big and round and bursting off her frame. He took a sip of beer so his mouth wouldn't be too dry to reply.
"Shit, no."
"What about these thighs?" She ran a hand over the inside of her thighs, squeezing and caressing. "These tits? Not too much mommy-meat for you to handle, is it?"
"Fuck no."
Mary stood up straight and walked over to Greg, intensity in her eyes.
"Oh yeah," she said, "I love to hear you swear." She stood over him, looking down at his seated body, and then into his eyes: "You're a nasty boy, aren't you?"
"Yeah," he was breathing heavily now. "I've got a totally fucking dirty mind."
"Mmmmm," she purred. "Like mother like son."
She turned around and faced away from him and straddled his outstretched legs. She brought her hands back and smacked her asscheeks: -smack!-smack!-smack!-
"You want this ass in your face?"
"Oh, fuck yeah mom. Back it up."
Mary bent over and supported her body with her arms on Greg's knees until she'd lifted her knees onto each armrest, and then shimmied her backside toward her son's face.
