Plans Go Awry

ONE WEEK LATER

You check your makeup in the rear view mirror as you pull into the driveway to your mom's house, the light growing dim as the sun sets over the horizon.

Lipstick? Eye liner? Blush? Eye Shadow?

Perfect, perfect, perfect, and perfect!

Tight black dress? Heels? Cute anklet? Earrings? Slinky black underwear?

Also all perfect!

Cleavage? You adjust your bra and dress straps, then tilt the mirror down to get a good look. You better believe that shit was on point!

You tilt the mirror back to look yourself in the eye. Everything was perfect! So why wouldn't this pit on your stomach go away? And why did the gorgeous woman looking back at you in the mirror look so sad?

It had been almost exactly one week since your 'encounter' online. And you'd spent it working on a plan to seduce your unsuspecting mother. It all seemed so easy at the time, she was into you, you were into her! What else was there? Something, something, they fucked like rabbits, the end. You called your mother on Sunday, hoping to catch her before she made any plans for the following weekend. You'd managed to set up dinner with just the two of you for Saturday.

Now with the appointed time rapidly approaching, the excitement had given way to a sense of impending doom.

One way or the other, your relationship with your mother would change forever tonight. That realization had hit you with the **** of a semi truck. What's worse was it had already started. You knew the deep, dark secret, and that knowledge alone would forever alter how you acted toward her, even if you kept everything that happened to yourself.

The week had started off with excitement and anticipation, and now it had devolved into dread and fear. It wasn't too late, she hadn't seen you yet, you could call and say something had come up, or that you weren't feeling well, or...

The front door to the house opened, and your mother appeared in a halo of light, waving enthusiastically.

You swallowed hard and waved back, forcing yourself to open the car door and step out.

Your heels clacked audibly on the concrete of the darkening sidewalk as you approached the front door. You tried to walk slowly, sexily, towards the waiting figure, but you ended up just feeling weird and awkward.

"Hi hon!" Your mom exclaimed, stepping down to meet you as you approached. "How was your week?" She gave you a big, warm smile and then swept you into a hug.

Your body tensed at the contact, and you felt your face flush.

She was looking effortlessly sexy in a white deep v neck and cut off jean shorts, she was wearing white sneakers, and had to go on tip toes in order to match your height in heels. The result is she was pressing herself against you in a way that made you feel warm all over. A feeling that intensified as her boobs pressed against your own.

You had hugged your mother thousands, perhaps millions of times at this point in your life, and yet the feelings coursing through you this time were strange and frightening in their intensity.

"O-Oh, hey there Mom!" You stutter, and think about where to put your hands. It was something you'd never had to think about when hugging your mom before. Your first instinct was to grab her ass with both hands (Women in cut offs had always driven you wild) and to pull her against you, possible into a long warm kiss that would be anything but what one would expect between mother and daughter. And her scent! Had she always smelled this nice?? The skin of her neck smelled of vanilla, and all you wanted to do was kiss and taste it. You were willing to bet every inch of her was fucking delicious.

"It was great!" You say a little too enthusiastically, pulling out of the hug to look into your gorgeous mother's pale blue eyes. "And it just got a whole lot better!" You add, trying to smile. Your mom laughs, and something about it sounded a little different this time, it was almost musical to your ears. Did she realize you were flirting? It was impossible to tell. Either way it didn't matter, her giggle was one of the sweetest things you could remember hearing in your life. Holy fuck were you down bad.

Your mother looks you up and down, the warm smile still on her face. "Wow honey, you look amazing!" The genuine compliment makes you flush again. "Headed to the club or something later? I thought you said you were planning on staying over tonight?"

You **** a laugh. "Oh, just felt like getting prettied up, no real plans on doing anything besides hanging out with my favorite person in the world..." You were really hoping your flirting wasn't too obvious, if this had been any other girl you were interested in, they probably would have gotten the hint by now, but with mom... it was really hard to say.

Your mom cocks an eyebrow at you, still smiling. "Get this dressed up for a night in with your mom? Ok I guess, haha." That giggle again.

"Come on in, spaghetti should be ready in a few, and I opened a bottle of that fabulous red wine we had last Thanksgiving..."

You follow your mother inside, watching her fit sexy ass sway back and forth in the cutoffs as she led you to the kitchen.

You moved to sit on one of the stools near the kitchen island, slowly crossing one leg over the other, and letting the slip of your tight black dress ride up your thigh.

If you mom notices your sexy pose, she gives no sign as she turns to stir the boiling kettle of pasta on the stove.

"You'll never guess who I saw at the store yesterday, your old teacher Ms. Watkins..." Your mother continues to talk, your eyes continue to ogle her in her cut offs.

I mean what would she say if you just grabbed her and bent her over the counter...

You shake your head to clear it of the intrusive thoughts. Well what now? All your plans had pretty much gone up in smoke on the ride over, and here you were, feeling pretty ridiculous in this dress, with your mom talking about your old grade school teacher and what they had chatted about at the store earlier this week.

"Uh-huh." You nod at something your mother had said, shifting in your seat and trying with all your might to stop staring at her perfect, round ass.

Maybe this had all been a horrific mistake. Maybe you should just eat your pasta, watch a movie or two with your mom and go to bed. Then leave tomorrow and never think about any of this again. That had to be the best plan, right?

The throb between your legs was so strong it was making you squirm a little. You didn't think there was shower cold enough on earth to calm you down now.

Your mother was still talking, but you had stopped listening.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to get yourself under control. You begin to absently play with the ring on your finger. You feel a gentle warmth running along its surface.

"...anyway, she's doing well, and she's glad you're doing well also. For a women in her 50s she was absolutely stacked. I wanted to invite her over to fuck, but I wasn't 100% sure if she was gay or not."

The last sentence cut through you like a knife. You open your eyes to see your mother still turned away from you, her entire body seemingly frozen over the stove.

"Umm... what was that mom?" You still couldn't believe she had just said that. Had your ****, horny mind conjured that up?

"I...I..." Your mom stammers, her body still seemingly frozen. "What I meant to say was, she.. was.. I mean..." She turns to face you, and you see her face has gone bright red, and not from the steaming pasta.

"She was so hot, I wanted her to finger me right there in the grocery aisle." Your mom slaps her palm over her mouth so fast its comical. In her eyes is a terror you've never seen before.

She removes her hand from her mouth.

"Kristen, I'm so sorry, I don't... I don't know whats happening..." She looks scared, tears are forming in her eyes. "Kristen... I'm so jealous of that stool you're sitting on, I wish it were my fa..." She claps her hand over her mouth again then bolts from the kitchen sobbing, leaving you and the half cooked pasta behind.