Standing in the Kitchen

Matt was suddenly in the kitchen, listening to his mom talking about him, apparently telling his dad about the headache he had on the way home from school.

"Nate, are you listening?" she asked, turning toward him.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I was just remembering some of my own headaches when I was his age," Matt said, smiling. "I'm sure he's feeling better now."

His mom looked at him curiously. "You had bad headaches too? You never told me that."

"Sure I did, Helen. I didn't make that big of deal about it since I had outgrown them," Matt said, not knowing if he was right or not, concentrating on planting the memories if his dad ever explored it.

Matt's mom turned back to the kitchen counter, and Matt shook his head. As long as he was inside his dad's mind, he had to think of her as Helen. "The chicken has about thirty minutes to go, so if you want to watch the news, feel free," she said. Matt was too focused on her ass to pay much attention to what she said, and he stepped forward, his arms sliding around her waist as he leaned forward and kissed her neck. "Oh, my," she moaned, pressing her ass back at him. "What got you so excited today?"

"I just want to be close to you," Matt murmured, sliding one hand up her flat stomach, cupping her breast with only a thin layer of fabric separating his hand from the hard nipple he could feel. Before today, Matt hadn't even dreamed he could be so lucky to be able to feel his mom's breast, and now here he stood, his hand full of breast, his hard cock pressing against her firm ass.

"Nate, wait," she moaned, pressing back harder, providing exquisite pleasure despite the protest. "We can't do this."

"Why not?" Matt asked, pressing his hips forward, trapping his mom's hips between his cock and the hard surface of the countertop.

"Because..."