J. Russell - Mother_s ass

He shuffled from one foot to the other, his face flushed.

He doesn't know what to do, she realized. He can't sink through the floor, and turning around and running would be too undignified at his age. He's trying to figure out how to appear casual-how to look blas? about it all.

Dan drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Crossing to the toilet, he seated himself on the closed lid and leaned against the tank. "I get it, I guess," he said.

"Hm?"

"It's like they said in school. You know, in Social Adjustments. About us getting to the age when it's time to start learning the facts of life."

"Oh," she replied weakly. "What was it you wanted?"

"Huh? Oh! I wanted you to come look at Smokey. He was doing a new trick… bowing." Danny grinned. "Sure looked funny with his rump in the air and his knees on the ground."

She giggled. Her mental image of the tiny donkey, his ears as big as he was, bowing to Danny provided a trigger to release the tension in the situation. "I wish I could. See it, I mean."

"He'll do it whenever I tell him, now," said Danny airily. He gazed thoughtfully at her. "Mom, sometimes I just can't get over how complicated you and Dad are."

"How?"

"Well, I mean you're too complicated for me to figure out yet. Like I think I know exactly what you think – I figure a rule is because something's just right or wrong – and then all of a sudden I find out it was just because you didn't think I was old enough. Like not talking about Dad's salary. I used to think that was some kind of big secret no one ever knew. And then I got old enough you knew I wouldn't go around talking about it. Or like knowing what I was… about not knowing I was half-Indian until last year. Same thing. And I always figured people seeing other people without their clothes on was something you and Dad had a hang-up about. I was wondering how a guy learned all the stuff they were talking about in Social Adjustments – except the theoretical junk, I mean. And all of a sudden it turns out I was just too young for that, too." He grinned sheepishly. "Should'ah known better."

"Yes." Her voice caught in her throat. I'm trapped! she thought. My God, there s nothing I can do! And then, Yes, there is! I can tell him this is one time it isn't a matter of how old he is!

But Dan had leaned towards her and was continuing in his little-boy, confidential tone. "I'm glad, Mom. I did want to know, and the books and pictures just didn't do it. Besides, I've been feeling awful funny some of the time. I've been dreaming things and thinking funny things when I look at girls – or women." He stared meaningfully at her.

No! Oh, no! she thought wildly. She wasn't going to be able to tell him this was a special case. Not when he'd revealed himself to her so honestly. She steeled herself and pushed herself slowly back to a sitting position, deliberately letting the foam slide off her tits, leaving them shiny and smooth beneath her son's wide-eyed stare.

"Danny, get the towel… that big, thick green one."

"Huh? Oh. Okay." He rose and brought the towel.

Helen's hand trembled as she pushed the lever to drain the tub. She extended her arm. "Help me out," she said, her lips dry with fear.

Danny took her hand and lifted while she climbed out of the sunken tub to stand before him on the tile. She saw his body tense as his glance fell to the rich auburn of her pussy hair, and she was uncomfortably aware of a sudden tightening in her cunt.

"You dry me," she said, forcing a smile. "I'll be the queen."

Danny laughed self-consciously and began to towel her. She winced but smiled more broadly at the way he lingered while he dried her boobs. And she rose to the balls of her feet and grabbed his shoulders when he pressed too long into the sensitive flesh of her pussy.

"All right!" she whispered. "All right, Danny! Thank you."

"Did I do okay, Mom? Do I get the job?"

Get the job? Alarm flared. "What do you mean?"

"You gonna wait for your bath till I get home from now on so I can dry you?"

"Danny!"

"Didn't I do it good?"

"You… Yes, you get the job, Danny."

He let his Lance sweep over her, taking in the glow of her skin and the firm curves of her flesh. Admiration was so clearly evident in his expression she couldn't bring herself to resent the frank interest. For a moment, then, they were frozen in uncertainty, while Helen wondered how to bring the episode to a close and struggled against the rising wave of awareness that pervaded her.

"Gee, Mom! That's great!" said Danny, starting as if suddenly conscious of his concentrated survey. "Just great! About the stuff from that class…"

He was now counting on her help, she knew. She had allowed him to think she'd provide it, and he'd see no reason why any other time would be better than now. He certainly wouldn't forget the commitment. And if she was going to yield on that point, delay would buy nothing.

"Okay," she murmured. "What about it? What would help most?"

"Well…" he hesitated. "Well, there was a lot of stuff about how girls are… well, put together. About how women are built. It's just hard to visualize. And that was way at the start of the semester!"

"I… I'll show you." She was finding it hard to breathe. She was going to let him examine her and the bed – any bed – would be too suggestive.

"What time is it, Danny?" she asked.

"Hm… two-thirty."

Art would get home at six or a little after. No one else would come before then. She could choose the setting without fear of interruption. She braced herself and smiled. "Okay. There's time. Come on, Son."

Danny followed her to the dining room, looking puzzled.

"I'll get on the table," she said, fighting for calm. "Just like an examining table. That way, you can move around any way you need to."

Danny studied the drop-leaf table, now standing against the window with its leaves down. He brightened. "Hey, Mom! Super!"

"Move it away from the wall so you can get to the other side if you want to."

"Okay."

He moved the table away from the wall and stood back.

"Need help, Mom?"

"I'll make it." She hitched herself onto the end of the table and hesitated for a moment before lying back. It was all she could do to avoid folding her hands over her crotch, but she folded them under the back of her head instead, and winced at the expression of sudden new interest in Danny's eyes.

"Gee! That makes you look different!"

"How?"

"Well, I mean the way it makes your ribs stand up and stretches your… your breasts!"

"Oh." She levered herself backward and lifted her knees, setting her heels against her butt. "All right, Son. Find out what you need to know." She slid her feet outward to the sides and let her knees fall away from each other. The air chilled her twat and sent a sharp tingle into her belly.

Dan bent over her to peer intently at her boobs. He probed at the bulging surfaces with a finger and a look of awe passed over his face. The touch of his finger was like that of an electrode to Helen. She drew a deep breath, embarrassed at the quivery sound. And when he took a nipple between his fingers, rolling it and exploring its texture, she gasped audibly.

"Mmmm!"

He jerked his hand away. "Mom! Did I hurt you? I'm sorry! Oh, Mom!"

"No, no!" She was distressed at his agitation. "You didn't do anything wrong, Son! It's just that some spots are awfully sensitive. They're supposed to be. Go ahead. Just don't be too surprised when I jerk or make a noise."

He grinned. "Okay. If you say so, Mom." He resumed his examination of her tits, and she tensed against the growing flood of tremors his fingers produced.

Despite her efforts, muscles fluttered involuntarily and a primitive excitement heated her. She suspected – and then became thoroughly convinced – that Danny was teasing her. He'd certainly had time to complete his familiarization, yet he continued to manipulate her nipples. She knew she couldn't absorb much more of that kind of stimulus without making some major – and unmistakable – body movement.