A Bit on the Side

Later. Again, alone in my office and toiling over the Sudoku, I glanced up at probably the most opportune moment. She had stood to lean across her desk, reaching for something on the far side. The action caused her butt to stretch the short skirt, its length riding up on her thighs. Once more the lace tops of her stay-ups became visible, the white skin of her upper thighs. Was she aware? It was so overtly sexual...I had to stop my thought process. It wasn't 'overtly sexual.' It was simply a woman going about her business. I was the one injecting a sexual overtone, playing the part of a leering employer. She'd done nothing to imply consensual flirting. Oh, there was also one glaring factor I was missing. SHE WAS MY MOTHER! I dragged my eyes away from the admittedly arousing sight, ashamed of my behavior, my basically incestuous delusions, determined to do better. It lasted a good five minutes.

"I forgot to give you back the credit card," Mom entered my office carrying the card and obviously the receipt for the clothing. She could've approached the desk from the opposite side, instead choosing to come around beside me and lean her bottom back on the surface, crossing her legs.

"Keep the receipts," I informed her, quickly closing the game of solitaire I'd begun on my computer. "That's your job now, expense reports, tax. There's a file on the desktop."

"Oh. Of course. Give me something to do. Is it always this quiet?"

I blushed at her observation

"It's gets busier!" I laughed. As I'd come to expect, the top of her stocking was showing and it brought me back to her appearance. "So, did you get everything you needed? Are they delivering your other clothes?"

"What? Oh, no," she responded looking down at her outfit. "This skirt and blouse were all I bought."

"What? Seriously?" I was a little surprised. "You planning on wearing that every day?" Again, I felt uncomfortable about critiquing her appearance but she seemed to take it in her stride.

"Well, I didn't know how much I could spend and," again she cast her eyes down onto her own body. "If what I bought was appropriate."

"You don't need my approval," I stated, feeling how hypocritical it sounded in that it was me that told her to change in the first place. "You're right, it's a slow afternoon. So, head off early," I handed the credit card back to her. "And this time. Buy everything you need."

She hesitated taking the card.

"Everything? What about accessories, shoes and things?" She cautiously asked.

I didn't know what 'things,' were, but I hoped she meant underwear!

"If you wear it in the office, it counts," I insisted. "I mean, steer clear of Tiffany," I laughed. "But there are heaps of stores out there on Rodeo. That Lauren Brooks boutique just opened up."

Mom frowned. "Lauren Brooks. Doesn't she just do lingerie and swimsuits?"

I felt myself redden once more. "Um, I'm sure she does clothing as well."

She looked at me skeptically but rose from the desk. "Well, if you think you won't need me..."

"Go," I insisted, though immediately thought of the day. Friday. I wouldn't see her all weekend and a pang of regret washed over me. Never mind. Something to look forward to, I reasoned.

*

Well into a bottle of Napa Shiraz, I was watching cable news whilst comfortably slumped in my couch when the buzzer for the intercom in my apartment distracted me. She awkwardly waved up at the camera when I responded, Mom, with multiple shopping bags hanging over each forearm. It was nearly five thirty and I'd assumed she'd be well home by now, not seeking entrance to my own.

I buzzed her up and unlocked the front door, waiting for her at the entrance. It was then I caught sight of myself in the reflective glass. Relaxing and not expecting visitors, I'd changed into track pants and a simple white t-shirt. But now that Mom was on her way up, still immaculately dressed I noted, I wondered if I should in fact change before her arrival? The notion wrenched from me when the bell for the elevator signaled her arrival and there she was, three hours from when I'd last seen her and just as desirable.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, puzzled at her appearance.

She looked frazzled. Even slightly unsure of herself as I welcomed her into my home, the eight or so bags she held deposited beside the coffee table.

"I may've gone a little overboard," she grimaced as she looked down at the shopping. "I thought I'd come by and get your, well, the boss's approval. I've still got time to take back anything that's not appropriate."

I gave a chuckle and moved closer to peer down inside the bags. "I can trust your judgement Mom."

She looked down at my near empty wine glass and I was quick to offer a glass of her own.

"Ooh, yes please. If you're having another," she added and I felt her eyes on me as I entered my kitchen. "I just thought you'd want to see where the money went. Inspect the merchandise," she giggled.

"I mean sure, if you want to show me," I returned, handing her a full glass which she gratefully took and immediately sipped.

"Should I change in your room?"

The question startled me. I'd only expected her to show me the purchases, not parade them. "You want to put them on? Now!?" I revealed my surprise and she looked bashful.

"It's just I'd rather take anything back sooner rather than later," she admitted. "Hmm. Now I feel silly."

I was quick to reassure her and hated myself for reacting as I'd done.

"No," I declared, the realization Mom was about to give me my very own fashion parade making me giddy. "As you said. It's probably best I rubber-stamp the outgoings, so to speak."

She once more giggled and took another large swallow of wine before making for the bags.

"So," she paused. "In your room?"

My mind went blank for a moment before I remembered why she was asking about my room.

"Oh, yes. Of course," I blushed. "Need any help?" I offered as she reached for the multiple bags.

Her smile gave away that she understood the awkwardness of the situation and she politely declined my assistance. The minute she was gone I opened another bottle of wine.

It didn't take her long to change; exiting wearing a tight grey dress that hugged her figure perfectly, dropping to just above the knee. She wore the same black heels and stockings and I complimented her on her taste as she did a twirl for me before taking another drink from her refiled glass.

"Get comfortable," she laughed as I sat back upon the couch. "There's plenty more to come."

She didn't lie. Two more outfits of similar design before a drastic change. Gone were the black heels and stockings. Replaced by brown leather sling back heels and tan stockings or pantyhose. So, these were the 'accessories,' she'd discussed back in the office. The dress she wore was sleeveless and white at the torso, transitioning to a pink flared skirt that sat high above the knees. As she twirled (as she was becoming accustomed to do) it rose up to reveal once more stay-up stockings, that mystery solved.

She must have known it would happen but looked satisfied nonetheless as she once more reached for her glass. In the thirty or so minutes she'd been in my apartment, the alcohol had clearly taken effect, her cheeks as well as the skin on her chest blushing.

"I like that one," I once more complimented her and she ran a hand down her torso to (I suspect) feel the fabric. To me it looked more like she in fact felt her own body underneath, but maybe I was just projecting. Her glass drained, she placed it upon the table and I offered another.

"I shouldn't," she laughed, taking a hair tie from around her wrist before beginning to pull back her hair to secure. Her smooth armpits raised to me, I had the overwhelming desire to go to her and kiss them. Quickly chasing away the delusion as she turned before accidentally dropping her hair tie. The delusion returned.

With her back to me, Mom bent forward to find the lost item. The action caused the already short skirt to lift and reveal her stocking tops once again, and more. White satin came into view. Tight around her buttocks, and below, the glint of metal buttons upon the gusset as it bulged over her vulva. My eyes riveted to the scene; it was then she chose to look back over her shoulder.

"Sorry," I dragged my gaze away. "I was looking..."

"At the bodysuit?" She laughed.

"...I was going to say, for the hair tie," my face burned as I rose from the couch, Mom standing before me.

"It's okay Honey," she stated. "I was going to tell you I bought this underwear as well."

"Oh," my head swam before she turned her back.

"Would you?" She presented the rear of the dress to me, clearly requesting I undo the zip.

"What?" I stalled.

"I'll show you the bodysuit," she casually informed me. "This zipper's tricky to reach."

With shaking hands, I took hold of the small white pull and slid it down her back. The top of the white bodysuit revealed itself and when the dress became loose on her torso, Mom took over.

"Thank you Darling," she almost whispered as she allowed the dress to fall from her body, to her hips and then to the floor. I stood by speechless, granted license to look upon her ass, and then as she once more faced me, her breasts and mound of pussy, snug in the satin. When I didn't (couldn't) respond, she continued. "So, I bought these stockings as well," she divulged. "And this bodysuit, I can wear under almost everything, so it'll get used." She did another turn and finally asked my opinion. "So, what do you think?"

I nodded, unable to tell her how hot I thought she looked. Totally inappropriate for a son, surely? "Looks good," I managed to offer and eager to change the subject. "More wine?"

"Okay, just a small one. I still have two more outfits," she dropped to her haunches and picked up the dress, for a moment level with my cock. Did I see her eyes drift across my groin? No. I surely imagined it. But as I headed back into the kitchen, my cock beginning to stretch out the front of my pants, I wondered if I had?

Tan pants, she wore next. Flesh colored, she could have in fact been standing there naked, such was their tightness and tone. A turn and I greedily devoured the shape of her buttocks bulging out the material, more than a hint of camel-toe as she once more faced me. A white, what looked to be satin tank top completed the outfit but she wasn't done modeling this ensemble. "I have boots at home that'll go with these," she explained her bare feet. "I had such a hard time finding a bra that worked under this," she (for some reason) informed me, before casually lifting the top up and over her head.

And there they were, my old friends from the shower incident. Mom's boobs presented to me as clear as they were then. Well, almost. The bra she'd found was white but made from an entirely see-through nylon. Her nipples standing out as plain as day. Pink and hard and... beautiful.

"There's matching panties," she bluntly stated, reaching for her glass and sipping before a shy smile came to her face. "But I probably shouldn't show you them," she giggled.

"Why?" I swallowed noticeably.

"Ah, because they're just as see-through Honey," she smiled. "I know you saw a little too much of me the other day. I don't want to give you nightmares."

Nightmares? I thought. More like dreams. "No, I mean why are you showing me this Mom?"

"Oh," she blushed. "Well, it's your money. I just wanted to show you where it was all going. Is that okay?"

"Okay," I remembered to breath, relaxing somewhat that her explanation made some sense. She wasn't flirting. Moms didn't do that to their sons.

"Okay then," she bent down to replace her wine and the sound of ripping was noticed by us both.

"Oh no," Mom lamented, clutching at her rear to feel the extent of damage done. "Is it bad?" she turned her bottom towards me and removed her hand. It wasn't. Unfortunately. The tear must have been further between her thighs and I told her so. "You nearly got to see my panties after all," she laughed it off as she left the room. "And don't say a word about what this means about the size of my bum!"

I sat back on the couch, my cock now a noticeable bulge in the front of my track pants and I moved it sideways to be less obtrusive. What did it all mean? She said she was just flaunting herself before me innocently, a means to show what the company had purchased. There was nothing sexual going on between us. She was just more comfortable to be around me partially clothed now it seemed. There was nothing wrong with that. I had the problem here. Misconstruing everything as an incestuous come on. I needed therapy.

"This is the last," Mom left my bedroom and still barefoot padded across the carpet. It was a dress, I supposed; more a slip. Like the previous tank top, white satin. But surely it couldn't be worn in the office? She must have seen the wonder in my eyes and explained the item. "I thought maybe if we had a business lunch, or dinner even?" She stood not four feet from me, her eyes on me expectantly. "It's bad isn't it!? I'll take it back."

"No!" I too forcefully denied before reigning it in. "You don't have to take it back. If you like it."

"But, do you like it?" She questioned. "You're the boss."

"I..." I paused, my cock moving back into its upright position in direct defiance of me. "I think you look beautiful."

As we were both becoming used to doing, she blushed and coyly reached for her almost empty wine. Straight down her blouse I was given an unobscured view of her unfettered breasts and it caught my breath. The material stretched tight across my cock was restricting and without any stimulation, I could feel myself ridiculously approaching an orgasm, rising from the couch to reduce the tension.

"So that's it," she cast her eyes back upon me. Surely, she could see the development in my pants but she played it cool. "I don't have any more underwear to show you," she grinned. "I couldn't find any that didn't show through," she winked, admitting to me she wasn't wearing panties. Even as she said it, one of the straps fell from her shoulder exposing much of a breast and she did nothing to remedy it.

I abandoned all that I'd thought moments before. This was more than flirting. It was open seduction. With our eyes locked on each other's, I moved forward another step and she raised her chin to accept the kiss I intended to deliver. Our first kiss as the lovers we'd surely become. No more games. No more innuendo. We'd finally break the ultimate taboo...

And then her phone rang. We were both pretty sure of the caller and it instantly brought us back to reality with a crash. A moment remaining with our eyes locked before Mom rushed to her handbag and answered her husband's communication, lifting the strap of her dress in the process. "Uh huh," she listened to the voice on the other end. "I was held up at work," she lied to Gerry. "I'm leaving now."

It killed the moment. It killed my erection. What was I thinking? I'd wanted her to see it. To touch it. My mother. And she'd clearly encouraged it. There were no innocent parties here. I finished my glass as she hung up the phone and by the look in her eyes, I could see she felt the same. Thank God for Gerry's call. What could have happened?

"I'd better get going," Mom looked at me one more time before heading back toward the bedroom. I looked past her and was surprised to see darkness outside, the time passing quicker than perceived. "My God it's nearly seven," Mom seemed to be just as startled. "If I hurry, I'll catch the 7:05 bus."

"You're not getting the bus at this hour," I was quick to contradict and being in no state to drive her myself, I sought my phone for an Uber.

She'd entered my room looking about as sexy as any woman I knew. She exited wearing the drab garb she'd appeared in that morning. It was to be expected I supposed. She'd begun by lying to my stepfather about where she was. If she returned wearing different clothing, questions would surely be asked. But, so what if they were? She'd been with her son. Why would Gerry read anything into that? And nothing had happened between us anyway. It was crazy I was even having this mental debate. I wasn't going to have sex with my mother. End of story.

"I've organized my regular Uber guy," I informed, as I noticed her stuff the black stockings she'd arrived at work wearing into one of the bags. She also consolidated all of the purchases into two bags, limiting the amount she'd have to carry.

"Thank you," she stated, clearly flustered. "Can I leave these here?" She motioned toward the empty bags. "I think it's only the pants I'll have to return," before once more a cheeky grin came to her lips. "That is if you're happy with everything I bought."

I was more than happy. She'd made me hard. What mother does that for her son?

"No, it's all good," I accompanied her to the door and out into the foyer. Waiting for the elevator and after an extended silence, she turned to me.

"Thank you, Dylan," she looked intensely in my eyes. "For the clothes. For the job. Though I think I'm out of my league somewhat."

"What!? What do you mean?"

"All the jargon. The techy speak. I mean one of your clients was talking to me about his blocked drains and how you were helping out. I thought you just dealt with Bitcoin."

"Blocked drains?" I repeated her comment, struggling to understand what she meant. "Oh, you mean block-chain?"

"Oh yeah, that was it," she laughed as the elevator arrived. "It's all Greek to me."

I rode down to street level with her and came up with a solution. "What about I give you a crash course in crypto currency?" I proposed and then entertained our meeting sooner than after the weekend. "I could drop by tomorrow morning, give you a lesson?"

The Uber was waiting and I saw her to the curb.

"I'd like that Honey," allowing her long dress to ride up her legs as she entered the back seat of the car, her eyes lifting to mine. "I need all the help I can get."

"'til then," I smiled as I closed the door on her and waved to the driver before the window wound down.

"Oh, by the way," Mom stuck her head out of the open space. "Out of curiosity, I Googled that Brandi Love woman," a smirk coming to her face. "You naughty boy," she laughed as the car drove away.

*

It felt like I'd made a date. It was stupid. She was my mother and yet I had the nervous feeling in my stomach of a new relationship. I longed to see her again. When I returned to my apartment, it felt empty without her. Thankful the scent of her perfume remained to remind me of her presence. What was wrong with me? With us? Because surely, she wasn't an innocent party in whatever was happening. And what was happening? Were we about to embark on an incestuous relationship? Did that kind of thing even happen? Outside of a Jerry Springer episode? I laughed as I headed for my bathroom. God, I hoped it did!

And then I saw them.

Obviously, they'd fallen off the bed, misplaced and left behind. Black, delicate and clearly my mother's panties. For a moment I was cautious, almost looking around to see I wasn't observed before I realized the absurdity of it. I was alone in my room. Who was watching me? I reached down and took them in my hands, the satin arousing as I rubbed my fingertips against the material, more so when I opened them up to reveal the gusset. My cock sprang back into life and I didn't deny myself, wrenching down my pants and rewarding myself with a tug.

Yes, it was wrong. Yes, I felt like an oversexed and immature teen. But faced with such a fetishistic item of my current incestuous fixation, I abandoned myself to a moment of depravity. With the still damp crotch to my face, I managed to make it to my sink before I came, an overdue and copious release as I breathed in the intimate scent of my mother's pussy.