Family Business

"Not good. I'm keeping them on as long as possible to wear them in."

She didn't mention anything about a foot massage and I didn't want to bring it up then and there thinking I was coming across a little too enthusiastic, but to my surprise it was her that next took the conversation into the realm of sexuality.

"There was a sale on," Mom explained out of the blue. "That's why I bought so many panties."

"Ok," I replied acting aloof. In reality wanting to hear as much as possible about these 'panties.'

She placed down her fork and reached across to her shopping bag, her hand diving in.

Awestruck I watched as she withdrew multiple flesh colored thongs and placed them on the table followed by two bras, one white one nude.

"I know you like the black bra," she laughed. "But I had to pick up these. Can't really go to work bra-less again." She added.

What the hell was going on? Was I reading way too much into our byplay since 'that' film? It seemed every conversation we were having was loaded with sexual content, innuendo. I tried to think if we'd been like this prior. Maybe we had and I just never noticed. Maybe everyone talked and behaved like this and my libido driven brain was getting carried away with the fanciful notion of an incestuous encounter with my own mother? I had two options as far as I could see. Go along with it. She was happy to discuss such personal matters of late, so why not encourage the debate? Or the second, be juvenile and avoid the fact. Shield my ears to the subject and possibly my sudden interest in incest would evaporate.

I chose the former.

"So that's everything?" I enquired. "Thought you said you bought three bras." I watched her cheeks again turn a shade of pink and she picked up her fork to take a mouthful of the side salad.

"Oh I just picked up something else for myself," she explained after she had swallowed. "Not work related."

Did I let it go? The Lincoln of two days prior would possibly have avoided the conversation completely. The Lincoln today jumped at the opportunity.

"Oh yeah?" I didn't need to feign interest and I again waited for her to swallow. There was some hesitation from her, it was obvious, before her hand was back in the bag and partly pulled out a pink bra and what looked to be a matching thong.

"Oh and a new nightie," she threw away the line as her hand revealed transparent red lace which she quickly returned to its hiding place.

'A nightie,' I thought to myself. No. That was lingerie, and I made a pact with myself I would see her wearing it or die trying!

*

"I made you a cup of tea," I called as she passed the lounge room. Her shower had been noticeably longer than usual, not that I was one to keep tabs on these kind of things and I'd waited forever for her to leave her bedroom. "It's probably ready to drink," I added, a subtle hint I'd been anticipating her.

"Oh thanks," she doubled back. "I was just about to do that."

Had I been expecting her to wear the red lace nightie? You're damn right I was but I wasn't devastated when she entered the living room wearing her regular flannel pajamas. She'd not washed her hair in the shower yet it was wet around her face and neck, loosely tied back, long strands framing her cheeks. Her feet were bare as she drew them up onto the couch alongside me, toenails painted red.

"What are you watching?" Her eyes remained fixed to the screen as she gripped the mug in both hands, sipping and finding the temperature to her liking and drinking more.

"Nothing really, some cop show," I informed her. "I can change it if you want."

"It's fine, I'll go to bed after this," she nodded to her tea.

"It's only just gone 8:30," I reminded her and she shifted in her position, both legs bent at the knee, one raised. If I was to stare for longer than the seconds I was comfortably able, I'd see her pussy pressed hard into the crotch of her long pajama bottoms. "Tired from today?" I added trying to keep our conversation going.

"Ugh, you have no idea," she replied and I did once again use up my allotted few seconds. Was she wearing panties beneath them? I wondered. I thought of her in the kitchen, rising after the meal and our underwear talk. Yes she wore no bra, that was obvious by looking without her needing to admit. But she'd left out the fact she'd not worn panties to work that day as well. No pantyline or shadow as there'd been the night before. Of course she may've been wearing some kind of micro g-string but the camel-toe she displayed when I stole a peek from the front pretty much convinced me otherwise. I didn't blame her for not discussing this morsel with her son. What mother would?

Her feet arched on the couch beside me, making 'fists with her toes,' to quote Bruce Willis and I wondered if it was a subliminal (or to be honest, blatant) reminder of her foot massage suggestion of the night before?

"Feet hurt?" I casually asked, looking at the television to suggest I wasn't completely obsessed with her.

"Killing me," she admitted. "I'll wear the other pair tomorrow, see if they're any better."

"Well come on then," I grumbled, reaching out for a foot as she gasped in surprised delight. "You could've just asked."

"Oh Honey I wasn't serious," she laughed. "You don't have to do that," she added, I noticed not attempting to drag her foot away from my hands.

"It's alright," I chuckled. "The first one's on the house."

She stretched her right leg out and it enabled me to pull her foot up onto me, her heel pressing my thigh as I pushed my thumbs into the sole.

"Ooh, God," she moaned as I ran them up her arch to her toes. "I'd pay anything."

I looked back at the television as I began to get hard, laughing. "You can't afford it Mom!"

From the corner of my eye I watched her take a last sip and place the mug on the floor before getting into a more comfortable position, laying on her back.

"Well not on the hours I've been given," she sighed.

I looked across to her, one thumb caressing the sole while my other hand manipulated her toes, fingers sliding between each individually, the act swelling my cock even further.

"Why don't you quit?"

She scoffed in response.

"No seriously, you could get a job somewhere else. With your experience."

"Ugh, I just hate the thought of it," she yawned. "Job interviews and all that."

I watched her close her eyes and as she did, lift her other foot up onto my lap. Immediately I went to work on this one, my forearm grinding upon my erection in the process. She wriggled her head on the cushions, finding the right spot and seeming to be content. Had she looked more beautiful, I wondered? Her pajama top was slightly twisted beneath her causing the buttons down the front to be stretched. A diamond of flesh was created on her sternum and I could see the curve of the underside of her breast, below, another upon her belly button. Scanning lower, and the mound of her pubic bone, pink flannel pressed tightly against her pussy. Within reach.

"You could start your own business," I offered after a moments silence and she didn't respond. "Mom?" I continued and she answered with measured breathing. Asleep.

I smiled at her and am not ashamed to say a tear almost came to my eye as I gazed upon her beauty, the love I felt for her making me emotional. To run my hand up her leg, press my fingers into that soft lump of labia. Lift her top and kiss her breasts, her mouth. But these were fantasies. Unobtainable images from a movie and the darkest recesses of my mind.

I moved my cock to the other side and placed her foot alongside my hardness before closing my eyes myself and wishing for dreams of her.

*

"Hey," I was awakened with a nudge. "It's after 12. We fell asleep," Mom added as she rose from the couch and turned off the television. I immediately looked down to be sure I hadn't remained hard and was thankful I wasn't.

I got off the couch and followed her down the hallway turning off lights as we went and she paused at my door.

"Hey thanks for the foot rub," she whispered and to my astonishment leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. We never did that. A goodnight kiss. And as I was still coming to terms with it, she turned and was gone leaving me slack-jawed with another erection in the making.

I slept very well that night.

*

It wasn't every morning we had breakfast together but when I heard her shower end and although I still had half an hour before my alarm was due to go off, I enthusiastically got up early. Her hair up in a towel drying when she entered the kitchen, she acted almost as if surprised to find me there, strange in that the radio was quite noticeably playing, something that could be heard from the other end of the house.

Wearing her white leggings, yet to put on her heels she was also yet to don her top. It was clearly one of the bras she'd bought the day before that supported her breasts but did nothing to actually obscure them. Looking to have been made with what I assumed was a pantyhose-like material, the cups were entirely transparent, her pink nipples as clear to my eyes as if she were in fact naked.

This didn't seem to faze her in the slightest as she casually went about preparing her own breakfast of yoghurt and fruit, making a comment in reply to something the radio had stated. Its context was lost on me as I attempted to feign interest in something on my phone whilst doing my best to steal peeks of her. Even from the rear it was beautiful. Her ass filling out the tight leggings, her bare back only blemished by the white straps of her bra. I dropped a hand below the table and subtly encouraged the erection I was quickly developing as she rolled her shoulder before awkwardly reaching behind to touch the bra, obviously something distracting her, I looked on with interest.

"Ohwuh," she groaned and attempted to look over her shoulder at her own back. Her open discomfort afforded me the ability to stare at her with impunity, concerned for her nature. Again she groaned and I thought it best to help out.

"What's wrong?" I enquired, attempting to sound disinterested.

"I, I don't know, it's. Ouch!" She complained as she lowered one of the straps of her bra off her shoulder. "Something's pricking me," she added. "Can you have a look?"

'Can I have a look?' I scoffed. It was all I'd been doing for the last few minutes but I rose from the table and approached her from behind.

The pair of cargo shorts I'd thrown on were doing a pretty good job of hiding my hard-on and as I stood behind her I imagined pressing my groin to her ass. Wrapping my arms around her, cupping her breasts. Sliding a hand down the front of her leggings as I kissed her neck.

She once more looked over her shoulder as I raised trembling hands to her back.

"It's just," she began as I touched her bra, sliding a finger between her skin and the silky material where I assumed was the issue. "Yeah there," she added as I noticed goosebumps appear on her arms.

I felt the plastic tie immediately, could even see it poking through the seam and wondered how in fact she'd missed it? Pulling it out, I held it up to her as she turned to face me.

"Well there's your problem," I stated looking in her eyes. "You left part of the tag." I dared not look down but I didn't need to to notice the change, the nipples I'd peeked at for the last five minutes now standing dramatically to attention.

"Oh, how did I miss that?" She posed the same question I'd wondered and relieved me of the plastic. "My hero," she leaned forward and unexpectedly kissed me on the cheek, her body so close I felt one of the much discussed nipples press my chest.

The direct catalyst, the contact had an immediate effect on my cock, twitching uncontrollably behind my shorts as if a sentient being, letting both of us know of its presence. 'I' could see it as Mom drew back, I would be amazed if she hadn't, but thankfully she made no sign of acknowledgement, possibly to save me embarrassment. There was an awkward one or two seconds before I thought of a way to depart the scene.

"So I guess I'll go have a shower," I stated, quick to turn my body from her though regretful I no longer stared at her breasts.

I grabbed my phone from the table and made to leave as I saw her place the plastic tag in the bin.

"Enjoy it," Mom remarked as I was half way across the room. "Hope I didn't use up all the hot water," she added as if reminding me she as well had just been naked. I turned my head to smile and for the briefest of milliseconds thought I saw her eyes on my groin.

I'm not ashamed to admit I beat off in the shower.

*

Getting stuck in traffic due to a sinkhole or something a few blocks from our house, meant Mom was home before me for once that week and I learned had been for half the day. Surprising that she hadn't removed her 'uniform' though, which even though she was now wearing underwear beneath was still a beautiful sight to behold.

"How were the other shoes?" I asked as she strolled around the kitchen preparing dinner in her heels.

"Better," she acknowledged.

"Oh so no more foot rubs. Good," I lied, laughing.

"Hey I didn't say that," she smiled and approached. "Look at you Mr. Stuff-shirt businessman." She tugged at my tie before loosening it and placing a hand upon my chest. It for a moment felt like we were a married couple and it took everything to not lean in and kiss her. "Why don't you go and get changed, dinner's in ten."

I wanted to smack her bottom playfully as she turned away to get back to the meal, my hand almost in the process of moving to do so. However showing amazing restraint I controlled myself, satisfied by admiring her ass as I left the room.

"Was today any better?" I asked when I returned to the kitchen.

"Apart from the limited hours and the fact I was on back to back waxing all morning," she replied sarcastically. "Yeah it was great."

"I think you should seriously consider leaving Mom, if you're not happy," I reasoned. "I can help you look for jobs. It doesn't have to be in a salon."

"Baby this is all I know how to do. Monica and I were talking about it. Who'd want to employ middle aged women with no other experience outside their field? I looked online this afternoon," she added. "There just aren't any vacancies at the moment. Not in the current climate."

I sat at the table and admired her body, the straps of 'that' white bra under the tank top. There was the hint of underwear behind the leggings, a faint panty-line on her hip, the color however, hidden. 'I' would employ her, I thought. To do any number of things. The thought struck me like a bag of bricks and I rose from the table.

"Where are you going?" Mom enquired. "Dinner's almost ready."

"Have to check on something, I'll be back in a minute," I explained and headed to my room, opening my phone and the appropriate apps. I looked up into my reflection and couldn't hide the excitement in my eyes.

*

Our show ended and I texted a friend to convey my thoughts, awaiting a reply as Mom scrolled through the onscreen tv guide.

"You're not going out tonight?" She casually remarked before she jumped at the text response vibrating from my phone.

I chuckled at my friends comment and set it aside before giving Mom my undivided attention.

"What and miss foot massage Friday?" I laughed and made a play for her ankle.

"Again?" She seemed shocked I was offering another foot rub and quickly changed her position to enable me access to both feet. "You don't have to," she added and I feigned acquiescence by letting go of her foot.

"Oh ok then," I joked.

"Oh!" She moaned and I laughed out loud, taking her foot once again in my hands.

Wearing white ankle socks, I slid them off her feet and set about repeating the previous nights massage, a glass of wine in her grip as opposed to the tea. As she adjusted her position to become more comfortable the light blue nightie she wore rode up high on her thighs, any higher I thought, and I'd see everything.

"So I've been thinking about your job," I stated as I rubbed both feet at once.

"Oh no not this again," she groaned. "Really it's ok. I can put up with it. I don't want you worrying about me."

"Hey that's my job. To worry," I added.

She drained the last of her glass and as she'd done the cup of tea the night before, rolled to her side to place it upon the floor. The action caused her nightie to ride up as I'd predicted, the smoothness of her pussy displayed to me before I realized it was the flesh colored thong I was staring at. Just as alluring nonetheless with the indent of labia clearly visible. She settled once again on her back, and looked down her body obviously aware her panties were on display. To my surprise she was slow to fix the malfunction, seemingly happy to flash me, I noticed not even looking to my face to make sure I wasn't peeking.

Did she want me to look, I wondered? My mind raced and believe it or not I was thankful when she finally pulled it back down to cover her groin, enabling me to concentrate on the story I wanted to tell. Barely obscured, I took my eyes from her pelvis and looked into her face.

"Why don't you go into business for yourself?" I raised the question and she furrowed her brow.

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean set up your own operation. Maybe even with Monica?"

"That's crazy Lincoln," she stated. "Do you know how much it costs to set up a business?"

"About five to ten thousand dollars would do it!" I immediately shot back to her surprise.

"And the rest," she mocked. "The equipment, leasing a premises. It'd be astronomical."

"You do it here!" I straight away proposed.

"What?" She cocked her head.

"Come on," I let go of her feet and reached for her hand, dragging her from the couch. Her legs parted and gave me another eyeful that I'd store in my 'spank bank' for later use as I pulled her laughing from the lounge room and down the hall.

We stopped beside the front door and I swung my arms around turning in a circle.

"If we had a cat I could swing it in here," I suggested as I once again looked at her, her face still showing confusion. "It's a foyer! There's enough room for a counter, chairs for waiting." She followed me into the dining room. "We get rid of the table and chairs of course, there's plenty of space for all the equipment, those chairs you sit on for pedicures."

I once more took her hand and she giggled as I dragged her from the room into my own bedroom across the hall.

"Look, you could fit two massage tables in here or those waxing beds," I walked into my en-suite. "Straight from there to the bathroom, it's perfect!"

I looked in her eyes as she fully understood what I was suggesting. That she run her business from home.

"But there's still the money Linc," she doubted. "I can't afford to set up a business. I'm barely coping with the mortgage as it is."

"Maybe you can't, but I can!" I claimed.

"What?"

"My savings," I proudly stated.

"No!" Mom immediately rejected the notion. "That's your money, for your future. Your own house."

"Exactly," I agreed. "That's why I'm investing it in a private business run by someone I trust more than anyone in the world," I assuredly proposed.

She was silent as she looked around the room. I could see the cogs in her head turning. Running through the logistics.

"I don't know Honey," she sighed. "It's too much to ask."

"No it's not," I went to her and again took her hand, the other. "I want to do this. To help you out."

For a moment I thought she'd say yes. That she'd hug me and we'd begin making the plans right then and there. She didn't.

It was a shake of the head that first told me her answer.

"I can't," she stated. "I can't ask that of you." Her hands left mine and she began to move back toward the hallway, her shoulders noticeably slumped.