Hot And Desirable

"You look confused." "I, uh, you, you aren't mad at me," he stammered. "Mad?" she smiled cryptically. "Uh, you're not mad?" he ventured again. "I was, a little, when I first woke up and realized what you had done to me." "Mother, I am so sorry," he blubbered. "But probably not for the reason you think," she smiled wanly. "What, what do you mean?" "You did what I didn't have the courage to do," she said softly. "I've wanted to do it for the past two years." But the most shocking sight was his mother.

She sat on the couch wearing a sheer sexy, softly flowing gown that caressed her body, giving the illusion of concealment, while at the same time, hinting at the suggestion of sexy unmentionables hidden underneath it. She had her long sexy, elegant legs crossed and was rhythmically bouncing one dainty foot, encased inside a sexy, glossy white, high heeled pump. Up and down, up and down, it bobbed as she gave him a dark, smoldering look.      
            Averting his eyes down away from hers, he found his eye drawn down to the glittering white pump as it leisurely rose and fell. With every kick of her foot, the hem of her gown rustled softly above the delicate, thin strap of white leather encircling her graceful ankle. "Are you okay?" He heard his mother's voice come to him through the deafening roar in his ears.