Out For Dinner 2

I stood at the door and watched her walk down the hall, savoring the view of my mother's stunning figure.

I spent the next hour or so trying to get some rest before heading out on our first "date" - this was going to be the first time we were out together in this new relationship of ours. Sure, we'd been out many times together in all kinds of situations. I felt very comfortable being with her at any time. She was that kind of woman: classy, intelligent, incredibly beautiful. Who wouldn't want to be with her? I knew full well that I was still envied by my friends, probably by most other men for that matter. I was sure she'd been hit on many times in her life and I was sure she would never give any of them a second thought. I was still amazed that she wanted

me

, her own son!

She must have heard me get up and head for the shower.

"Hon, Sweetheart, come here for a minute, please?" I stepped into her room. She was wrapped in her dressing gown, standing at her lingerie cabinet. "Hon, tonight we're going out, just you and me. I want this to be very special for both of us. I know it will be for me, but I want it to be for you as well. I understand what it's like for most young men. They'd rather die than be out for an evening with their mothers."

"Mom, there's no way I could ever feel embarrassed around you. I mean, just look at yourself! You are the most beautiful woman in this town. You're the smartest, classiest, best one of them all and

everybody

knows it. I've never felt like I didn't want to be with you. I'm very proud of you, I really am." I wrapped her in my arms and gave her a tight hug. I felt her shoulders tremble. I pulled back and looked at her. She was crying.

"Mom?"

"Oh, Sweetheart, you make me feel so loved. Look at me. You've turned me into a blubbering baby." She wiped her eyes and I bent down to kiss her cheek. She shook herself, clearing her head and pulling herself back together. "Phew! It's a good thing I haven't done my make-up yet. Okay! Hon, this is why I asked you in: I want you to pick out what I'm going to wear tonight. I want to be dressed exactly as you would like. Will you do that, please? For me?"

Oh. My. God.

I thought I had truly died and gone to Heaven. This gorgeous, curvaceous, long-legged, stunningly sexy woman wanted me to play dress-up with her as though she was some kind of living doll? How could a day that had started off so badly turn out to be this good?

"Jeez, Mom, really? You'd let me do that?"

"Of course! I want you to! It's all here, Sweetheart: dresses, skirts, blouses, shoes," she smiled sweetly, "and especially my lingerie. I'm dying to know what you'll choose for me." She lifted a few satiny items out of a drawer, then dropped them back. "So, what do you want me to wear?"

I felt my cock rise. She was going to wear whatever I wanted? Holy smokes! I tightened the towel around my waist but the mound forming in front was difficult to hide. Taking a deep breath, I started going through her things. There were several brassieres, the usual everyday kind mostly, plus some newer styles like the one she wore yesterday morning. Then I found one buried under the rest. I'd never seen it before, had no idea she even wore something like this. It was made of a delicate, translucent silk. This was the one. She had to wear this one. I held it up for her to see.

Her eyes widened. "Oh, my! I'd forgotten about that one. Your father surprised me with that on Valentine's Day a long time ago. It's quite, ah, revealing. I haven't worn it in a very long while. I wonder if it even still fits." I smiled and placed it in her hand. "Well, okay Hon, if that's the one you want then that's the one I'll wear. I only hope the restaurant is dark."

"Um, Mom, can I ask ... if it's okay, can I ask you to ... could you put it on right now?" I felt my face start to burn.

"Really? You'd like that? Certainly, Hon. Here, give me a hand. We'll soon find out if I can even get into it anymore." She turned her back to me and dropped her robe to the floor. Memories of yesterday flooded back. She was standing there, holding the bra to her breasts, waiting for me to do the clasp. "This seems a little familiar, don't you think?"

"Y-Yes, it certainly does." I looked down at her naked body. "But if I remember right, you were wearing more."

She turned to me. The bra fit her beautifully, if not just a touch snug, and formed her breasts into luscious, smooth curves. Her nipples were clearly visible through the tightly stretched thin fabric. "Yes, I think I was. Does it bother you that I'm not?" She stepped close and placed a hand on my groin. "Judging from what's under your towel, I think not. You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I looked down at her hand pressing against my rising cock. She leaned in and whispered, "I promise you, Sweetheart, we're going to take care of

that

before this night is over." She gave me a kiss, then picked her robe up and slipped it back on. She cinched it around her waist but left her breasts exposed. "There! How's that, better? Ahem ... I'm up here, Darling. Concentrate Bradley, let's be moving on."

I cleared my throat, then looked for my next favorite item. Hmm, not there! I pulled open another drawer.

Ah yes, there we are

. I pulled out a white satin sheath, one of her girdles. I knew it wouldn't be an insult to ask her to wear it. As far as I knew, virtually every woman wore one back in those days. It just made her curves all the more noticeable. She nodded and took it from my hands.

There was a small stack of thin boxes in the next drawer. I'd seen them many times in the stores, row upon row of them. Silk stockings. I lifted the lid of the top box. The smooth, shimmering fabric was carefully wrapped in tissue paper. I handed the box to her.

"Okay, now a dress, yes?" I tried to sound calm but my heart was pounding.

"Ah, Hon? Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked.

"Umm."

"Panties, Love, and a slip. You haven't given me either of them."

I cleared my throat. "Yes. Well I, ah, I was kind of hoping it would be okay to not wear them. Is that alright? Would you? I was wondering what it would be like to have you sitting across from me at the restaurant, knowing that you don't have any panties on. And I thought a slip would just get in the way. You know, for later."

"Well, you

are

the schemer!" She turned crimson red and smiled shyly. "My goodness Hon, you're turning me into a little sexpot tonight, aren't you!" She shivered. "That's fine Hon, if that's what you want, I'll do it. It will be our little secret."

That made me think. My mother dressed as a "little sexpot" conjured up all sorts of images. It was a fine line I was walking here, a fine line between sexy and trashy. I couldn't do that to her. "Mom, if you're feeling uncomfortable about any of this just say so, okay? Don't wear anything you don't want to."

"Hon, I'm fine. Look, this is all very new for me too. I've never gone without a bra before but look what I did this afternoon! I'm finding this all very exciting, Sweetheart. A little frightening as well, but exciting. It makes me feel - I don't know -

free

. And as long as you're with me, I'll be okay. So choose away Hon, whatever you want. Just remember that we are going out in public tonight. We don't want to start too many tongues wagging. It would be difficult to explain to your father."

I stepped into her closet and was instantly surrounded by her, by her clothes, her fragrances. I drew my hand across the row of dresses, lifting one or two out to remind myself of some I hadn't seen in a while. I stopped at what I knew was a favourite of hers, and mine. It was by a French designer, very fashionable and, I knew, very expensive. She always looked like a million dollars in it. It was a cocktail dress, white with black stripes, button-front with a low scooped neckline. I picked a pair of black high heeled pumps from the rack and held the dress and shoes up for her to see. She rose up on her toes, hands clasped under her chin.

"My favourite! You remembered!"

"It's my favourite too, Mom. I love this dress on you."

She came and took it from me, then kissed my cheek. "Thank you, Sweetheart. You're making me feel very special tonight. Now, off you go and get yourself ready. I won't be too long. Would you call for a cab to come round for us? Thanks, Dear. Off you go now - and no peeking!" She looked down at the tent in my towel again. "If we're not careful, we'll never make our reservation." She winked at me and closed her bedroom door.

I spent the next forty-five minutes getting myself cleaned and dressed, calling the cab and generally pacing back and forth in the front hall, imagining my mother upstairs in her bedroom, the clothes she was putting on, thinking of us together at the restaurant. I was impatient. I wanted it all, right now.

The cabbie came up the driveway and honked. I opened the front door, called up to my mother and took out a light coat for her from the hall closet. I turned around to the sound of her heels on the hallway floor, stopped dead and stared. She looked absolutely gorgeous. Her hair was pulled up into a simple chignon. She wore a delicate strand of pearls to match the curve of her neckline. Her makeup accented her large dark eyes and high cheekbones. She smiled broadly, teeth sparkling through bright red lips. Not for the first time I wondered where this woman had come from, how she came to be so, well,

her

. Most of her early life, pretty much all of it in fact, was a mystery to me.

"So? Do you approve? Are you still willing to be seen with the old girl tonight?" She twirled around in front of me, making the dress flare out.

"Mom, you look fabulous! Of course I want to go out with you!" I held the coat for her. She stepped into the light of the open door. I looked down. Her dress was smooth and silky as it followed the curves of her bust, except for two small but very definite nubs. They weren't immediately obvious to anyone, but her nipples were definitely showing through, two slightly darker circles showing through the thin fabric of the dress. It was almost as though she wasn't wearing a bra at all. I must have looked a little concerned.

"It's not too obvious is it, Hon?" She had a worried look.

"No, Mom, it's okay. Besides, it will be dark at the restaurant. If you're alright with it, I certainly am. You'll be the best work of art I've ever seen in a restaurant."

I helped her on with the coat and we walked arm in arm to the waiting cab. I opened the door and watched her climb in. The silk of her stockings flashed in the evening light. I caught a whiff of her perfume as I slid in beside her. When we pulled out onto the street, she squeezed my hand and wriggled like an excited little girl.

"This is going to be lovely, I just know it!"

While we rode along she nestled her shoulder against me, took my hand and placed it on her knee, covering it with her own. My spine tingled. I stroked it lightly, feeling her dress slide smoothly up her leg. She lifted her hand and let me raise it further. She glanced at the driver to make sure he couldn't see. I took the fabric between my fingers and pulled it up over her knee. Then, again, until I could see her thigh. I felt her lean in against me and quietly sigh. The dark band of her stocking top was beginning to show. I went to pull it up even higher but she stopped me, nodding toward the driver and shaking her head. She placed my hand back on her knee and covered it with her dress. Her skin was hot against my palm.

During the ten minute ride, we sat pressed tightly together while I ran my hand under her dress, my cock swelling more and more. A couple of times I slid my fingers down between her legs, aiming for that treasured spot I knew was uncovered and accessible. Each time she tightened her knees together and blocked me, shaking her head. Each time I sighed and made an exaggerated pout. I wanted her. God, how I wanted her.

We straightened up and became very much "mother and son" when we arrived at the restaurant. The carhop opened the door as I handed some cash to the cabbie. I stepped onto the curb and turned to help her out of the car. Her coat fell open as she slid across the seat. The neckline of her dress gaped forward, offering a generous view of her cleavage. She stretched a foot out. Her leg was long and gracefully curved, the silk stocking once again shimmering in the streetlight. I took her hand and helped her to her feet. Needless to say, she had the full attention of the carhop. He made no attempt to hide his stares, ogling her up and down. Even the cabbie was giving her the eye. I had those old mixed feelings: annoyed by guys checking her out, yet proud that she could turn heads so easily.

We left her coat with the hat-check girl and were ushered to our table. I could sense a hush fall over the room as we entered. It seemed as though every eye, male and female, was fixed on my mother. I think she felt it too. She turned to me and squeezed my arm, whispering in my ear. "Everyone's looking! Do you think they can see?"

"No Mom, I don't think so. I think they've noticed that a very beautiful woman just walked in."

"Or perhaps a very handsome man." She smiled and squeezed my hand.

We sat opposite each other, tucked away in a dark, intimate corner. This was the most upscale restaurant for miles around. The table was set with candles, crystal and silver, a white linen tablecloth reaching the floor. For the next couple of hours we chatted just like every other couple in the room, sipping our cocktails, ordering dinner, enjoying the wine while a piano played softly in the background. I could feel myself relaxing more and more as the alcohol made its way to my head. I noticed my mother getting a little giggly, laughing at my weak jokes and stupid stories. We were just finishing our main courses and sat, knowing looks passing between us, finishing the bottle of wine she'd ordered. That was another one of those little mysteries about her - somehow she always seemed to know the best wine to choose.

Anyway, I was feeling light-headed. Suddenly I felt her foot move up my leg. I shifted a little and glanced around the room. She had slipped her shoe off and was pressing her toes between my legs. Our eyes met. She gave me a devilish little grin and slouched into her chair slightly, reaching her foot up higher between my legs until her heel was pressed against my crotch. I looked around the restaurant again. I felt pretty sure no one was paying any attention to us now. Besides, the tablecloth hid our legs from view. I opened my knees, shivering as she rubbed my quickly rising cock with her foot. She curled her toes and manipulated me, trying to make me cum. The sensation was electric. I slumped down and offered my pulsing erection to her. She kept stroking me, massaging me. She kept staring into my eyes, still with that little grin of hers.

I was surprised by how quickly it happened. I guessed it was because we were in public, plus the earlier experience of choosing her clothes, not to mention the scene in the taxi. Well, I came right there and then. She felt it happen and pressed harder, prolonging the experience. I closed my eyes, shuddered and breathed hard. Having to control myself and not let on to what was happening made it very intense, almost painful. I felt the hot cum spread through my boxers. Thank god I was wearing a jacket! When I calmed down and opened my eyes, she was still staring at me, her mouth twisted into a lop-sided grin. She winked.

She was the most amazing woman I'd ever known. Beautiful, sexy, adventurous - and mine. The experience of sitting across the table from my own mother as she massaged my stiff cock with her foot, in the openness of this restaurant: I wanted her, plain and simple. I wanted us to leave, rush back home, strip our clothes off and make love all night.

She had other plans.

I felt her foot drop to the floor and hook behind my leg. She pulled it over to her side of the table, then reached down and slipped my loafer off. I felt her tug my sock down. As she looked around the room, I felt her gather up the bottom of her dress, sliding it up her legs as she spread them, waiting for me. I knew what was expected. Careful not to draw attention I pushed my foot between her thighs, up under her dress. I felt the soft mat of hair, the heavy bulge, the moist lips. I felt the heat pouring from her body. She took hold of my ankle and began rubbing herself against my heel. I watched her face, fascinated by her changing expressions, her mouth opening and closing, eyes fluttering.

She slid forward on the chair and pressed harder. I pushed back. Her eyes opened wide. She stared at me, silent, a look of urgent need on her face. She began to make tiny motions with her hips. I looked down at her breasts. Her nipples were hard, straining against the thin fabric covering them. Now they were obvious, very obvious. Even in the dim light of the room anyone could see those large nubs.

A busboy came toward us carrying a tray. He glanced down at her and immediately slowed his pace. He kept his eyes glued to her breasts, even trying to see down her dress as he walked by. Obviously she'd caught

his

full attention.

She was wet now; I could feel it. She leaned forward onto the table and rocked her hips, sliding herself up and down my foot. Her movements became more pronounced. Her eyes were closed and she was biting her bottom lip. Her face was flushed. I sensed the enormous pressure building up inside her. If we had been alone at home, I have no doubt that by now her body would be writhing, accompanied by very loud cries.

Then she went rigid and squeezed her thighs tightly together, trapping my foot. I sensed contractions in her belly. She gripped the edge of the table and gasped. Suddenly remembering where she was, she looked up, eyes wide. Several nearby tables had turned in our direction. Immediately she brought her napkin to her mouth and feigned a coughing fit, her cheeks red, forehead glistening.

Within seconds the maitre d' was tableside, a concerned look on his face. "Is Madame well? May we be of help?" He snapped his fingers and a waiter instantly appeared with a pitcher of water.

"No, no, everything is quite alright, thank you. I - I must have had a sip of wine take a wrong turn. I'm fine. Thank you ever so." She looked at me as he walked away, her eyebrows raised, eyes wide. I smiled, shaking my head. "Well then! Ahem! Would you, ah, would you order coffee for us, Hon? I need to visit the powder room for a moment." I watched her glide gracefully across the room and disappear into a hallway. So did half of the other people in the room.

Oh shit!

I forgot to warn her about the dress, how much she was showing through. I could only hope she had "calmed down" by time she returned. Thankfully the restaurant was starting to empty out.

I ordered coffee and waited. Again I watched as she crossed the room to our table.

Oh, hell

. From across the room it was obvious her nipples were still engorged, standing out stiffly, creating remarkably large nubs in her dress. As she sat down I leaned forward and whispered to her. "Mom, I could see them from here!"

"Don't I know it! Goodness, Hon, there's nothing I can do!" Her cheeks were crimson.

A moment later our waiter was bringing us coffee. He kept stealing glances at her breasts while she did her best to hide them with her arms. I could only imagine the whispered conversations that had been going on in the kitchen.

There were also two snifters of brandy on the tray. He placed them beside the coffee cups.

"I'm sorry, there must be a mistake. We didn't order these," I said.

"Yes, sir. These are compliments of the gentlemen at the table there." He motioned toward three middle-aged men sitting across the room. We turned to look. They all smiled and raised their glasses to us. We did the same, nodding to them.