The Floor waxing show 2

"He won't, Mom, but you have to keep letting me look at you."

"Luke, you're being bad. Are you trying to blackmail me? I'm not afraid to let your Dad know you've been a very naughty boy. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Mom," I replied, but I wasn't convinced, and neither was she.

"You can only play this game as long as I let you, and by my rules, understand?"

"Yes, Mom," I said submissively, and kissed her. I turned the kiss into a very long, tongue twister, the whole time pressing my cock against her. As we got really deep into the kiss, I started rocking my cock against her. When our lips parted for air, she was gasping, and I was grinding against her pussy.

"Luke, Luke, stop, stop ..."

"Stop what?"

"You know, you know, stop it."

But I didn't. I started kissing her again. As soon as my tongue was in her mouth, I really starting rubbing against her pussy. Hard, grinding, pressing my cock deep into her crevice, dry-humping her with abandon. I kept my mouth on her. I felt her legs lift up on either side of me and close over my back. I increased my pace. I ground my whole body into her. I came, so did she, clutching my back strongly to her as I spurted by spunk on her belly, and collapsed against her.

"Luke, you touched me."

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"We can't do this again, you broke the rules."

"I'll tell Dad."

"If you do, we'll never be able to do this again."

"OK, I won't. But I want to watch movies with you."

"We can watch movies, but you have to learn to behave yourself, follow the rules."

"I will, Mom."

"Gosh, look at the mess you made on my tummy. Look how much there is."

I looked appropriately admonished as I rose up and looked down on the pool of white spunk splattered on her beautiful belly. "I got it on me, too," I said, pulling down at my pajamas. As I did, my cock, still quite hard, flopped into view. Mom looked at it.

"Well, I can see why you made such a big mess," she said with a smile.

"I can make more, Mom."

"No you don't. Come on, let's go get cleaned up before your Dad gets home." And that was the end of another incredible afternoon. As we walked together up the stairs, she let me slide my hand down from her little waist to cup her right ass cheek. I stopped her at her bedroom door, pulled her back as she started for her ensuite and kissed her, tenderly. At the end of the kiss, I slipped my tongue into her. She let me finish the kiss, then, "No, son." Shit, back to square one, I thought. "No more today, sweetie."

"Ah, Mom. Will you let me kiss you before bed? Come see me so I can kiss you before bed."

"We'll see," she said, and slipped away into her room.

---------------------------------

That night, there were no innuendos, no teasing glimpses, no flirting of any kind. Mom treated me like her son. I decided not to torture myself. I went to bed early. At the top of the stairs, I spontaneously turned and yelled down, "Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight son," he automatically responded.

"Hey, Mom, you forgot to give me a kiss goodnight," and I quickly retreated to my room. I undressed quickly and got into bed. Mom knocked lightly and came into my room five minutes later.

"That was quick. It took me ages to get you into bed when you were little." Then she laughed at herself, "Not that I'm trying now."

"Come and give me a kiss, Mom."

"Alright, but just a kiss."

"Ok, but turn out the light. And you have to lay on the bed. I want a real kiss, not a quick peck."

"Ok, but you be good," she said, and turned out the light. A moment later I felt her kneel on the bed and then stretch out to lay beside me. She reached over to me, touching my shoulder and then the side of my face.

"Aren't you wearing your pajama tops?" she asked.

"No, its too hot," I replied and pulled her to me for a kiss. We snoggled for a couple of minutes and then I pulled her on top of me. I centered her pussy over me and slid my hands down over her ass and pulled at her legs, parting them around my hard cock. I pressed upward.

When our kiss broke, she said, "Luke, you're being very naughty again. Dad's right downstairs watching TV."

"I know, Mom. That's why you have to let me play quickly, because we only have a few minutes," I argued lamely.

"OK," she said, "You can play for a few minutes," and lowered her head to kiss me. I grasped the hem of her skirt and pulled it up while we were kissing, so that only her panties were between us. She must have realized then that I was naked. I had no pajamas or undies on. My bare cock thrust against her panty covered mound. I slid my hands up onto her ass and held her in place while I started little fuck motions against her.

She broke our kiss. "Oh, you little bugger," she said, breathing in little gasps as my cock lunged between her slit. She was genuinely surprised, "You little bugger!"

I laughed in her ear, holding her against me, rubbing harder and longer against her, pausing to grind my cock into her pussy. "I'm a little bugger, Mommy," I said, sliding my hand down her cheek, between her legs, and pushing with my fingers against the bottom of her pussy through her slim panties, into her damp cunt. I started to shove my cock up and down the channel formed between her pussy lips.

"Oh, oh, oh, ugh, ugh ohhhh, ohhh, ooohhhh, ugh, ungghhhh. Oh, you little shit!" She started pressing back on me, spreading herself open around my cock.

"Come on me, Mom. Come on me. Come." She started to thrust in earnest, in time to my shoves against her cunt. I tongued her ear, and pushed the finger stroking the rear of her panty inside and rubbed it along the line between her ass and her pussy.

"oh, oh, oh, uh uh uh, uhh uhhhhh ungnhhhh, unnnnghghhhhh." She collapsed on me, her pussy twitching and periodically pulsing against my cock.

"You little bastard, you little bastard," she gasped out, trying to catch her breath.

"I can't help it, Mom. I love you. I want to fuck you."

"No! That will never happen."

"But it feels good, doesn't it Mom?", I asked.

"Yes." She pushed her pussy against my cock as her body involuntarily agreed with her. "Yes it does. But I won't let you fuck me, I just can't."

"'Then let's just say goodnight like this, Mom, our own secret ritual."

"You were only supposed to look, remember?"

"But I like rubbing against you. It's only fair if I can't have you." I whined in a little kid's voice.

"Oh, don't try to pull that on me. I'll think about it. You can give me a little rub now and then, maybe, if you're a good boy, that's all."

"OK. Mom?"

"Yes?"

"If you wake up and can't sleep you should come and wake me up too. I don't want you to be alone if you wake up at night."

"Oh, my god, your Father. I've got to go. I've got to get downstairs," she cried in a panicky voice, springing up and rushing to the door where she paused, gathered her wits, opened the door, and exited into the hall, talking back to me in a voice loud enough to be heard downstairs, "Goodnight, dear, we'll talk about it in the morning. Sweet dreams."

She didn't come again that night. The next day, things were back to the normal mom/son relationship. Mom was particularly conservative in her dress. I didn't complain, or act miffed in any way. Patience, I was learning, reaped rewards. I paid no extra attention to her. When she skipped floor waxing day, I didn't mention it. I just kept treating her like a regular Mom.

One day, Mom came home around noon dressed in a flowered, sleeveless dress hemmed just above her knees. It swirled about her lovely legs as she walked. It was the most liberal thing she had worn for two weeks. It was a summer dress cut a little lower and held together by buttons all down the front. She fussed about in the kitchen for a while, emerging with a tray of sandwiches and two glasses of milk. "Do you have time for a movie break?"

"Yeah, sure, Mom," I casually answered, feigning disinterest. "Something particular you'd like to watch?"

"How about that chick flick we missed most of the other day?"

"Absolutely," I replied, and went to put it in the DVD player, intriqued that she was raising that memory. When I turned around, she'd sat down leaving me just enough room to squeeze between her and the end of the couch. She handed me a toasted tomato sandwich as I sat down. As I took it, a little mayonnaise dripped out onto her legs, just above her knees. She ignored it, so I turned toward her and, with my right hand, used my fingers to scoop it up. I licked my fingers and said, "Ummm, spicy mayonnaise, my favorite."

"Stop," she laughed, then, "Start the movie, and close the drapes a bit, the light's reflecting off the TV."

I did as she asked, then settled in to eat my sandwiches and watch the movie. I didn't do anything else for half an hour, ten full minutes after finishing my last sandwich. Mom was restless. She stretched her legs out on the coffee table, then pulled them back to rest her bare feet on its edge, raising her knees and letting her dress slide a little higher up her beautiful legs. Each time she changed position, she sidled a little closer to me, until her thigh was pressing tightly against me. When her dress restricted her movements, she undid a couple of buttons, and then a third before her foot rested comfortably on the edge of the table. She had bared a lot of leg but I just kept watching the movie.

Don't worry this is not the end part coming soon the most erotic parts