This story follows on from 'So, Here's To You, Great Aunt Judy'
Six months had passed since that fateful night in Hastings, and life meandered on, oblivious to events and circumstances. I put down a deposit on a flat in Kilburn and celebrated home ownership with a party during which I bedded a red-headed lass who didn't know my name any more than I knew hers. Lack of formal introductions aside, she had a cracking body and was super enthusiastic.
Jenny, my sister, was back living at home, having finished her veterinarian stint in Scotland, and Debbie, my mum, still gave no hint that she and I had sex. I went along with this because I had no idea how to broach the subject, and more pragmatically, I reasoned that if there were ever to be a repeat showing, then acceding to her wishes was the smart move. My Dad, Pete, was his usual hard-working self, and everything was rosy in the Evans family home.
My parents' 27th wedding anniversary was on the horizon, and Jenny suggested we invite Mum and Dad to a celebratory dinner. I thought it was a great idea and was happy to pay for it.
"Just the four of us. They will probably do something for themselves, but it will be a nice gesture," said Jenny, who took after Mum. She was a bit taller, and her hair was chestnut brown, but they shared the same curvy, busty figure. I loved my sister even though we teased each other unmercifully. We were friends as much as anything. She was deep and serious, and I was shallow and self-centred--at least, according to Jenny!
The big night arrived, and we all gathered at the family home. Mum looked gorgeous in a red wine ruffle-hem maxi dress, showing off impressive cleavage. I gave her a whistle, and Dad looked proud as punch.
"You're a knockout, darling!" He enthused.
Jenny was in a washed denim mini-dress and looking good, too. I made an off-colour remark about the hooker look, and she retorted that I should know, given it was the only way I could get laid. Mum told us both off, and Dad laughed.
We arrived at the hotel restaurant at eight, and Mum was excited to find there was dancing and a band playing from ten onwards. She loved dancing.
I had booked a corner table and offered my parents the bench seat against the wall. Dad, though, opted for a chair because of his back.
"And I will have a great view," he added.
Mum blushed prettily, and I took the seat next to her, complaining my view wasn't so good. Jenny rolled her eyes and said I should try it from her perspective!
"No more teasing you two," said Dad.
"Sorry, Dad," we chorused as if we were kids again.
The fare was top-notch, and I showed off by ordering an expensive claret. I saw Jenny biting her tongue as I accepted the waiter's offer to 'taste the wine.'
"Excellent," I said after swilling it thoughtfully around my mouth.
"Very good, sir," the waiter said, filling our glasses. It was killing Jenny not to take the piss.
I was finishing my main course when I felt a foot brush my leg. I didn't give it much heed until stockinged toes pressed into my calf. Mum was chatting with Dad, her legs crossed and gave no sign she was caressing my leg with her foot under the table.
Immediately, I'm all attention. Jenny was in the process of telling me something hideous about cows and deficiencies, and I nodded along while zoning her out. Why was Mum doing this? Why now, of all times? We had spent numerous times alone together and not even a hint of anything except normal mum and son stuff. Was it the risk element?
Her foot was now rubbing my shin. Casually, I dropped my hand to my lap and picked up my napkin to wipe my mouth. I left my hand in my lap after I was done. Slowly, I reached across and rubbed Mum's thigh with the back of my hand. I shifted in my seat, smiled at Jenny, who was babbling something about a horse and placed my hand on Mum's leg. Her foot stopped momentarily and then continued rubbing my shin.
I gazed intently at Jenny and filled her glass. Tipsy Jenny was chatty Jenny. She thanked me and was now answering a question from Dad. Seeing my moment, I squeezed Mum's thigh and turned to her.
"Enjoying yourself?" I smiled.
"I'm having a lovely time!" she gripped my arm and leaned into me. I could see her move the slit in her dress, and I rested my hand so that it was now on her stockinged thigh. She dropped her napkin into her lap and covered my hand.
"Good, I wanted to show you a lovely time."
"You're a good boy, Jakey. And you too, Jenny. Good girl, that is!" Mum laughed and moved so that my hand slipped off her leg.
I noticed Jenny staring at me, so I stared back. "You okay, sis?"
"Yes."
Her tone was a little off. I shrugged, and the waiter began clearing the plates.
"Anyone for dessert?" I asked, looking at Mum.
"You know I have a sweet tooth, dear, and I fancy something really decadent tonight!"
"Well, I'm sure we can get something to sate that craving, Mum." I read out some of the decadent delights, and her foot was back on my leg.
****
It may have been Jenny's reaction, but I dialled it back. Besides, the tease was killing me, and I was starting to feel irritated with Mum. I skipped dessert, ordered coffee, and moved my leg away from her foot. I pretended not to hear when Mum asked if the coffee was good. She repeated the question, and my answer was a sharp. "Yes."
Jenny was back in full chat mode and waxing lyrical with Mum over how great the dessert was. My irritation faded. Mum had a bit too much to drink, was enjoying her evening and got a bit frisky. Me being a moody bastard was unnecessary. I smiled at her as she pushed her dessert plate away and announced she was full.
"Enjoy that, Mum."
"I did, Jakey, it's been a fantastic evening!"
"Aye, son. You and Jenny have really treated us tonight!" Dad chipped in.
Jenny rested her head on Dad's shoulder. "It was our pleasure."
"And the dancing will start soon! That's your cue, Dad," I said.
The band was already warming up in the other half of the large room with the dance floor. They went in with their first playlist. It was all golden oldies and slow numbers. Perfect for my parents. Mum got to her feet, and Dad took her hand. She stopped and bent down to kiss me on the cheek.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"You enjoy yourself, Mum. You deserve it." My grumpiness was gone. All I felt was affection. She flashed me a smile, and Dad led her to the dance floor.
"Why did you do that?" Jenny snapped.
"Do what?" Had she seen me feeling Mum's leg?
"Playing footsie with me!"
I spluttered on my wine.
"What?"
"Your foot was rubbing my leg!"
"It fucking wasn't!" I was genuinely angry, and she saw it. I then asked: "Feet or shoes?"
"Barefoot."
"I'm wearing shoes!"
"You could have slipped them off!"
"Well, I bloody didn't!" I stopped. Mum must have briefly confused which leg was which.
"What?" demanded Jenny.
"Nothing."
"I can see you thinking. Spill!"
Inspiration hit me. "Look, Jenny, there is no way I'm playing footsie with you, okay? But Mum had her shoes off, and maybe she was flirting with Dad and got her legs mixed up. She's had a fair bit to drink!"
I could see the relief in Jenny's face. "Thank fuck for that!"
