Mom on Loveseat at late-night part 2

Roseey, who'd scrunched her face into a frown at Mathew Carron's rude remark, perked up and smiled at Kameron's kind words. She patted him on the thigh with her hand. Again, she was struck by the tensile strength of his leg muscles, and also how much warmer his legs were than hers. Kameron felt a little electric shiver at her touch. Roseey left her hand lightly on Kameron's leg under the blanket slowley.

No sooner had Roseey touched Kameron's leg, however, when the character on the T.V. screen, Angel, quickly pulled all her clothes off and walked with her drink, naked, to the balcony of her high-rise apartment. She stood at the railing with the twinkling lights of the city spread out beyond her.

Then the doorbell rang in the T.V. show. Angel went to answer it, still naked, and after opening the door she pulled a man, obviously younger than she was, through the door and into her arms. They fell to the floor and she pulled his clothes off and they writhed on the floor, naked, together.

One of the things Kameron -- and the rest of America -- liked about the show was that the lead character, Angel, looked so wholesome and straight-laced, but had such a dirty and kinky side. She took her clothes off in almost every episode. It gave Kameron something to look forward to ever week.

But he felt odd having just compared the woman who was naked on the floor to his mom. Mom also looked wholesome and innocent. She had a proper way of doing things. He couldn't imagine her having a sexually wild side to her. But he wondered whether mom ever got wild, before he banished the thought and told himself he shouldn't be thinking things like that.

Meanwhile, Roseey watched the sex unfolding on the T.V. screen with a twinge of envy. Mathew Carron and I used to do things like that, she thought to herself. But it had been so long. Mathew Carron didn't seem to be interested in sex much, lately, and on the few occasions when he did show interest the drinking impaired his ability to keep it up, or even to get hard in the first place.

In the show, Angel had surrendered to her lover's strong, muscled arms. Roseey shivered a bit at the fantasy of being held and taken like that. The man with Angel was young and blond, and he had lean but pronounced muscles, like her son Kameron, she thought.

The room warmed quickly with the air conditioning off. The blanket probably was no longer necessary, but Roseey felt snug and comfy lying under it with Kameron, so she kept it on.

Suddenly, on the show, a gunshot sounded offscreen. Roseey jumped, startled. She pulled her hand off Kameron's thigh and grabbed his hand. They interlocked their fingers and without thinking about what she was doing she pulled his hand back to her until it rested on her thigh.

Kameron was surprised to feel the soft, cool skin of mom's thigh under his fingers, because his hand was high on her leg. The sundress must have risen a lot up her thighs. He couldn't complain, though; if mom didn't mind it, he didn't either.

Roseey felt it too, and she felt how heavy Kameron's hand was on her thigh. She felt the impression it made. She felt, too, how her entire right leg was pressed against his left, and the toes on her right foot touched his calf lightly. She thought for a second that perhaps there was too much contact between them, but to do something about it would call attention to the fact, and she decided it was better just to let things lie.

Mathew Carron stood up and scratched his belly.

"I'm going to get another beer," he mumbled. "Anybody want anything?"

Roseey and Kameron both said no.

Roseey peered at her husband, again, with disapproval. Laziness and beer had taken a toll on his once-muscular physique. She was struck by the contrast between her husband and her son.

Kameron, for his part, was annoyed at his dad, who seemed totally unappreciative of mom. Kameron knew that, many years before, they'd been high school sweethearts, and dad had been a star on the football team, but that had been a long time ago. Looking at his mom and dad now, they looked like a mismatch. Dad was getting plump and jowly, while his mom still looked fresh and fit and pretty.

She was better looking than any of his friends' moms, no question about it.

After his dad left to get a beer from the kitchen, Kameron looked through the side of his eye at mom under the blanket. He hadn't noticed before how much her breasts mounded under the striped crochet blanket. It rose and fell fetchingly over her breasts with her breathing.

His hand still was clasping his mom's, and it lay on her thigh. He squeezed her hand in an affectionate gesture and tapped her thigh with his hand. The result was to bring his hand further up her thigh and to push her thin dress farther up her legs as well.

"Your dad's not behaving very well, Kameron," Roseey said.

"I know, mom," he said. "He should be nicer to you."

Roseey struggled with a vague sense that Kameron's hand was higher on her thigh than it should be, but his hand wasn't doing anything wrong and there wasn't anything sexual about it, so she supposed it was O.K. It felt good. She was amazed at how much warmer Kameron's body was than hers; he was like a furnace. She was warmer under the blanket than she had been, but she still liked the warmth of his body, and she didn't want his hand to move.

Mathew Carron returned to the living room, with not just one beer but two -- one to drink right away and one to be held in reserve if needed.

Roseey hoped he wouldn't need another one. He already had drunk too much.

Mathew Carron settled into his chair with a heavy sigh. He popped the tab on the beer can and soon was lost in his program.

Roseey suddenly felt moisture on the underside of her left thigh. There wasn't enough room on the right side love seat cushion for two people, so her bottom and leg kept sliding onto the other cushion, which still was wet.

"Ugh," she said.

"What's wrong, mom?" Kameron asked.

"I can't keep myself on this side of the sofa because this cushion is too small. My leg keeps pushing up against the wet part on the other cushion," she said.

Kameron thought about getting up and offering his spot to his mom. That would be the chivalrous thing to do, he thought. But then he had another idea. He wasn't sure about it, but there didn't seem to be any harm in suggesting it.

"How about if you get on my lap?" he asked his mom. He said it as normally as he could. But inside, against a little voice that cautioned him against putting his mom's cute bottom on his lap, he tingled at the idea of his mom's body on him.

"Are you sure?" mom asked. "Don't you think that will be uncomfortable?"

"No, mom," Kameron said. "You barely weigh anything."

"Well," she said. "You're sweet. I know that's not true."

She paused.

"I guess we can try it. It's really uncomfortable constantly feeling the wet part of the sofa against me."

Roseey lifted her bottom and set it on Kameron's lap, while Kameron took the blanket and lay it over the two of them again. Then he settled his strong hands on his mom's waist.

"Ohhhh!" Roseey said to herself, as she settled into Kameron's lap.

Something big and firm nudged against her butt. It was her son's penis. It wasn't erect, but it wasn't completely limp, either. It was . . . somewhere in between. She hadn't expected to feel it, and she hadn't expected it to be quite so . . . big.

She wasn't sure what to do. It seemed wrong to remain sitting on Kameron while feeling him in this way, but it would be embarrassing to call attention to it. Then, too, she had nowhere else to sit. After a moment's indecision, Roseey decided to remain where she was. She even twisted her pert bottom back and forth to find the right part of Kameron's lap into which to settle for the rest of the show.

The contact with his mom's bottom sent a powerful electric jolt straight into Kameron's hard cock. Kameron felt his mom twist in his lap. The blanket started to fall so he grabbed it and adjusted it so it would stay over them. He didn't know what to do with his hands, so he brought them around her and set them on his mom's bare thighs, just below the hem of her short dress.