MY MOTHER SUSAN part10
by Hot Milfs Blogunobstructed view of her bra-clad tits. Any forlorn thoughts I had about
being suave were lost at the moment. Cartoonists have done well using my
expression, eyes bugging and tongue lolling out. Tres cool, that was me.
“Nice!” I gasped. I was also quite articulate.
“The perfume?” she asked, laughing and not waiting for an answer,
added, “Now, I want to dance, Mr.”
Perhaps I’d had healing of a few damaged neuronal circuits, or
maybe I’d just matured a fraction, but my dancing was remarkably
improved. I could say that, knowing that I’d not stepped on her feet, at
least not as much. A definite improvement. Keep in mind that that’s a
relative statement, given my starting point. Nevertheless, we danced and
danced, initially a bit stiffly, but gradually with greater grace and closeness.
At first we chatted a bit, mostly about nothing of consequence. You know,
social small talk . Soon, however, she placed her head next to mine and we
danced silently.
Remember that we were about the same height? Then you can
picture us, she with high heels, dropping her head a bit to mine. I didn’t
give a darn what I looked like. I was in heaven.
“Billy, introduce me to your date, won’t you?” said a classmate of
mine as he moved in on us, smiling and holding out his hand.
“Uh, Mother, I’d like you to meet John . . . I’m sorry John, I don’t
think I ever knew your last name.”
Mother laughed easily and held out her hand saying, “Hi, John.
Nice to meet you. My name’s Susan.”
Strange, I thought. She didn’t use our last name.
“Could I have the next dance, please,” John asked.
Mom made a production of asking my permission first and then
accepted with a warm smile.
Darn him. He was tall and looked too damn handsome. Worse, he
could dance. You know, the fast dances that had me confounded.
For the rest of the evening, John and I danced with Mom. He was
actually a pleasant, very polite and socially at ease fellow who, as it turns
out, filled my mother’s desires for “lots and lots of dancing.” But perhaps
more significantly, John caused to appear an apparent inexhaustible supply
of chilled Chardonnay wine, only a little of which I drank, but a great deal
of which Mom quaffed.
I don’t ever remember seeing Mother look so gay and animated.
Her eyes were shining and she laughed easily, a deep-throated, lusty laugh
as she chatted gaily with the two of us. She has always been a marvelous
story teller and in the last hour of the dance, told us a number of
outrageously funny stories, often with herself as the brunt of the humor and
most often with deliciously naughty overtones.
The last few dances were slow and romantic and Mother insisted
that she dance with her date. “You understand, don’t you John? Billy’s my
main squeeze . . . he’s the guy I’m really taken with,” she said as we moved
away.
I was almost floating with pride and when we moved onto the floor,
I looked into her eyes and said, “Thanks, Mom. That meant a lot to me.”
“Well, it’s true,” she said as she leaned forward and kissed me
lightly on the lips.
I was aware of a sheen of perspiration on her face and upper torso.
Looking down, I could see a large drop of moisture that was trailing its
way down between the heaving halves of her breasts. I felt very warm and
didn’t know if it was from the dancing or something else.
She moved closer and wrapped both arms about me, holding me
tightly to her body. Again, I was acutely aware of her pelvis against my
thigh. My hand had dropped to her waist and then to her upper buttocks,
…End of the part10. To be continued..