Yes. Tell her she can come in

You finish zipping up your fly and answer, "Sure, come in." You take a last glance at the computer screen and your pants to make sure there's nothing obvious to show what you had been doing. As the door opens, you turn in your desk chair to look at your mother. She steps in hesitantly, with a concerned look on her face.

"Dave," your mom says in a quite voice with a little tremor in it. "I'm so sorry about... well, telling you what I did this morning. I know I shouldn't have done that." She grips one hand in the other in front of her. "I still don't know why I did. It was completely inappropriate." She tells with a slightly confused look on her face. "You were right about dreams. Everybody has them. I think this one must have just raised a lot of insecurities in me... but that was my issue to deal with. I shouldn't have burdened you with it."

"It's OK, mom. I'm not scarred for life or anything." You say, trying to lighten the mood and make her feel better. She smiles at that, then sits on the edge of your bed. "I'm just surprised that you did tell me about it. I know we're pretty open with each other, but that's not the kind of thing we usually discuss."

"I know, honey. You're a resilient young man, and you've got a good head on your shoulders." She gets a slightly confused look on her face. "I'm not sure why I mentioned any of it either. It's just... when you said you wanted me to tell you about anything that was bothering me... it just seemed like the right thing to do. You wanted to know, so you deserved to." Something about what she says tugs at the back of your mind, but before you can figure out what you are missing, she continues, "I'm just glad you've got more sense than me, and could deal with it maturely." She shakes her head, smiling ruefully at her own slip-up. "It's nice to know that even after all the mistakes I make as a mom, you turned out to be a wonderful young man."

Her face turns a bit more serious, as she continues. "I just had to make sure that you were all right. I couldn't stop thinking about you all day. Worrying that what I said might... I don't know... bother you, or make you uncomfortable. I would never want to do that. It's my job to make everything right for you—make sure you're happy and have everything you need and want." Her voice sounds so earnest, like she's deeply concerned about failing you in some way.

You roll your desk chair closer to her, reach out, and take one of her hands in yours. "Don't worry so much. You've always been a great mom." Her eyes meet yours when you take her hand. She looks surprised, and her mouth opens in a quiet gasp. Then her eyes dart quickly down away from your face seemingly studying your hand that's holding hers. She takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, then she does it again, and a third time, it looks like she's trying to make herself relax. The look on her face when you touched her, and the rising and falling of her breasts in her tight dress make it difficult for you to relax. You know you shouldn't even notice that about your own mother, but after this morning, it's hard not to think that way.

"I, ah, I still want to make it up to you." She says, smiling hesitantly. She strokes your hand lightly. "How about I make whatever you want for dinner tonight? Abbie's working late at the coffee shop. It's just us, so choose anything you want."