Downstairs with mom

I left my room about an hour after talking to Jenna with an idea of what I would do when I saw Mom again--inspired by Jenna creaming to the notion of teasing her father. I stepped lightly and quickly, with my tablet in my right hand, as I headed downstairs. I had dressed in a pair of loose, black basketball shorts and a body-fitting workout shirt of matching color. The downstairs was as dark as I had hoped, with the light coming from the television in blinking spurts of white, gray, and darker, mood-setting atmospherics. Dad lay on the couch to the right of Mom, swallowed by its size with his head on a pillow, and Mom sat on the back couch, her flaxen hair shining, despite the darkness.

My footfalls barely registered to my ears, but there was no way they'd reach Mom or Dad over the explosions and shell bursts of the war movie they were watching. When I rounded my side of the back couch, Mom turned her head, the surprise on her face making me smile as much as her outfit did. Had she expected me sooner or not at all? It didn't matter, because now I was there.

Mom had dressed as though she had expected me. She wore a tight, gray tank top, low cut with three pink buttons in the center of her chest. If she undid those buttons, the halves would spread under the pressure of trying to contain her breasts and reveal her twin mounds almost to her nipples. Her shirt had a pink, lacy trim, as did her gray boy shorts. They were small shorts, the kind that a teenage girl might wear despite being too small for her body. The smallest portion of Mom's butt would hang out if she stood, showing off that smile at the bottom of her cheeks--the crease that formed where her hamstring met the meat of her ass. The shorts were small but not tight, and the leg holes didn't lay flush against her thighs. At the right angle, they'd hide nothing from my prying eyes.

As dirty thoughts passed through my head, my cock thickened, begging me to take a look between my mother's legs as quickly as possible.

"Did you take a pill tonight, Dad?" I asked, sitting down on the cushion next to Mom.

"Why, are you afraid I'm going to sleep down here, and you won't get the TV?" Dad asked, then yawned. "Yeah, I took a pill."

"Just asking," I said. "You won't mind if I talk to Mom while you watch your movie? We were talking about colleges today, and I've been looking at some and--"

"Whisper," Dad said. "Whisper, and let me fall asleep."

"You got it," I said.

"Colleges?" Mom asked, looking at me as the TV's light danced over her face, striking like lightning as the scenes changed. Her tone may as well have said, Is that best you could come up with: Colleges?

I shrugged, and Mom looked back at the TV. I hit my tablet's touchscreen and opened a text file. I thought for a moment before I typed, Are you upset about this afternoon?

After studying the words for another minute, I slid my tablet over to Mom and said, "Have a look at this one."

Mom turned her head toward the tablet. She puckered her lips, then took it from my hands and read what I had written. She took her time, and I slid closer to her, my shoulder and thigh almost touching her.

I watched as Mom raised her right hand and brushed her fingertips across the tablet's border. She took even breaths, then her fingers typed, punching the keys with quick strikes, hitting backspace, then moving more slowly. I didn't read her words so much as I watched her graceful fingers poke at the keyboard.

She handed the tablet back to me, and it read, I don't know.

Oh, man, how was I supposed to work with that? I typed back, You didn't say no, and I handed Mom the tablet.

I know, Mom typed and handed it back to me.

I moved closer to Mom, placing the tablet between us, resting it on our thighs, my right, her left. I typed, I had fun. I paused, my fingers hovering over the soft keyboard. I would have been with Jenna today if you hadn't let me do that. I took my fingers away, placing them below the tablet on the side of my upper thigh. The backs of my knuckles were close to Mom's skin beneath her shorts--so close I could feel the warmth of her body.

Mom typed, and I read, That doesn't make it right.

But it makes me safe, doesn't it?

Before Mom could answer me, I opened another window, clicked on a picture folder, and brought up a picture of Jenna in a tiny, emerald bikini that lay plastered on her skin like a hentai drawing. The upper and lower swells of her breasts were on display while her nipples poked against the green nylon of her bikini bra as if green were her nipple's natural color. She was on her knees, sitting back on her heels with her thighs spread. The V of her legs narrowed toward her teenage cunny, where the thickness of her meaty, outer labia bulged outward from her panty's triangular covering. And beneath the green fabric, every fold of my girlfriend's pussy pressed against her panties, projecting her labia with three-dimensional craftsmanship.