Paula called him to tell her she was in bed. He went to her room determined not to make the same mistakes he’d made there the night before. He didn’t have a hardon, but he wondered if he could keep his impudent member under control for however long it took his mother to get to sleep.
* * * * *
Paula smiled at him as he entered her bedroom. She was already in bed, under the covers. Her bedside table lamp was still on. Charley thought he might get away with just lying on top of the blanket, but as he approached the bed Paula turned the covers back for him and lightly patted the bed beside her. He got into bed, lying on his back so as not to be caught staring at the babydoll gown and matching panty his mother had on. A babydoll nightie! He didn’t even know she owned stuff like that.
His mother reached over to switch off the table lamp, and in so doing the back hem of her short nightie rose up enough to expose the bottom parts of her bottom parts. Not that this made a lot of difference, thought Charley, because the gown was damn near transparent anyway. Paula pulled the covers back into place over the two of them, for which Charley was thankful. She turned to lie on her side facing her son.
“Thank you for your help today, darling,” she said, resting a hand on his chest in an affectionate gesture. Her fingers toyed with a curl of the hairs she found there. “I’ve been putting off doing a lot of things – things that just don’t get done when you aren’t around here to help me with them.”
Charley assured her that he was more than happy to help sort out his father’s belongings and to look after other routine but necessary post-funeral chores.
“I meant things that your father would be helping me with if he was still here,” said Paula. Now Charley didn’t know what she was referring to. His cock twitched in his boxers, giving him a bit of a clue. Oh, fuck.
His wayward cock was beginning to piss him off. Oh, wait. That was one of its jobs. He needed every little bit of silly mental diversion he could find to keep him from thinking unthinkable thoughts.
“Always glad to help out …” he said cheerfully, turning on his side to face her and instantly knowing that he probably shouldn’t have done that, “… Mom.” She had moved closer to him without him knowing it, and suddenly his body and hers were very close together, almost touching, and her lovely face was suddenly very close to his.
Charley fought off a powerful urge to kiss his mother’s sweet mouth, and he even managed to convince himself that she would like it if he did that. After all, she didn’t pull back from him one bit. Their lips didn’t touch, but they were just a fraction of an inch apart.
Paula spoke again, and with each of her words the teasing aspect of their nearly-touching mouths grew stronger. “I think it’s time we talked about what happened in this bed last night,” she said, her eyes fixed on his. “And about why that same sort of thing isn’t going to happen here tonight.”
“I’m so ashamed of what hap …” he began, but she put a finger on his lips to silence him. Her mouth was so close to his that Charley suspected her finger might be touching both of their mouths at the same time. He had seized on that spacial relations problem to distract him from the sexual tension he was feeling. It worked too, but only briefly.