It was my mom?

Jane and my mother came back into the room a few minutes later. I was still sitting there trying to figure out how to best get into Jane?s pants. Mother, bless her heart came to my rescue, "John do you think you could help Jane tomorrow. She has some boxes of books that she needs moved from her garage to her basement?"

Perfect, I thought to myself, but I played it cool, "Ah, Mom you are always finding someway for me to get some more work in. I guess it would be OK."

"I would be happy to pay you," the lovely Jane piped in.

"No, it?s no big deal. Are there so many I should get a friend to help," I asked her?

"There are only ten or so boxes, so I think you'll be fine by yourself. My husband is worthless for this type of thing, I have been asking him for months, but he is always at work and never seems to get around to doing the things that I ask him. I'll be home all alone tomorrow," she answered me.

Alone, I thought, was that a glint her in eye that promised more than moving a few boxes around. Then again I might be reading too much into it. I will just play it cool and see what comes. I usually find that letting the woman move the game along was the best route. Married women had to feel like they were in control of the situation. I was their fantasy boy, and all I had to do to get a nice good fucking was play along. Married women did know how to fuck. They were not like the young girls who were still trying to figure out what to do. Married women knew what it took to get them to climax and they were not shy about telling me what they wanted. Most of them were also good cock suckers unlike the young girls I had sometimes dated before I took on my quest to fuck married women across the globe.

As I daydreamed about sex, my mother and Jane were making small talk about something, but I wasn't really paying much attention. Jane said, "I must be going, my husband should be home soon, and he will want something to eat."

I would be eating your pussy if I was him I thought to myself. Out loud I said, "Goodnight Jane, it was nice to meet you, I'll see you tomorrow."

"It was nice to meet you, too, John, I'll see you about 2:00pm tomorrow," she said back to me.

My mother walked her to the door and came back to the table sitting down across from me. "So did you like Jane," my mother said to me when she returned.

"Yeah she seemed like a nice person," I replied.

"I noticed that you were staring at her breasts a lot. Do you like big breasts, like she has," she asked?

"Mom," I started to protest, and then suddenly the foot was back at my crotch.

"It was you," I stammered, "It was your foot?"

"Well I figured you were frustrated staring at her big tits, and you might like a little stimulation. Why don't you unzip and let me finish you," she added.

I stared at my mother for a moment as my world underwent a paradigm shift. I had always found my mother attractive, and had sometimes wondered what she would look like naked, but I had never crossed that line until now. Without a word I unzip my pants and let my erect cock stick out through the zipper. Mother scrunched down in her chair a little bit and I could feel both of her small soft feet wrap around my hard cock.

"I haven't done this in a while," she said. "Your father always had a bit of a foot fetish and he liked me to jerk him off with my feet. Does that feel Ok to you?"

My only reply was a soft moan as she stroked up and down the length of my rock hard cock. I stared at her tits as she jacked me with her feet. Her breasts were nice sized and I could see her nipples harden and poke out through the fabric of the sweater top she was wearing. I imagined that her nipples were dark as she had dark skin and hair, I was thinking about how nice it would be to suck her nipples into my mouth as she brought me to orgasm.

My cock started to spurt, and she expertly gripped my as I ejaculated a big load on the underside of the dinning room table. Moaning loudly I bucked my hips and I fucked her feet a little to maximize my pleasure.

As I came down from my orgasm my mother said, "Was that good for you, John? I am a little rusty so I hope it was OK. Why don't you go get a rag so I can wipe my feet off. I don't want to track your cum all over the house."

I was so stunned by the whole scene that I did as she asked and did not think about the absurdity of helping my mom wipe my sperm from her feet and the dining room table like we were cleaning up a spill. Man, I thought, what is going to happen next?