Quote:
Originally Posted by Torch_Man
I came back to earth when I sensed someone in my room. I didn’t hear her come in but when I opened my eyes I found her leaning against the dresser. I don’t know how long she had been standing there but I knew that she had been standing there for a while looking at me. I was still holding my cock and it was still hard.
Her neatly combed hair was still wet from the shower she must have taken and drops of water were falling onto her nightgown. Her hands were folded across her chest and just below her breasts, pushing them slightly up and giving them a fuller than usual look. I had seen those breasts earlier and it was easy for my imagination to see her standing their without the nightgown, almost like I could see through her clothing. She wasn’t wearing a bra as I could see her nipples pressing through the wet nightgown. She also wasn’t wearing any panties either, I surmised, as I failed to see any panty line under the thin, silky material. She was deep in thought as she examined the nails on one of her hands. The shadow on her face was longer than it had been earlier. There was a frown on her brow and her lips were pulled in tight under some emotional toll.
I laid there holding my throbbing cock with my never-ending erection, contemplating whether I should keep holding on to it or let go as a respect for her presence. I didn’t want to draw attention to it, so I kept holding on and waited for her to say something. She said nothing. She stood there examining her nails, throwing a glance now and then towards me, but saying nothing. I guessed that may be she was waiting for me to say something to her, but I had nothing to say.
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Finally, after an eternity and a half, she broke the silence. “So, what’d you think?”
“Think about what?” I whispered back.
“About what you saw?”
I contemplated an answer, but I didn’t know what exactly was she asking.
She waited for a while and then threw her hands down in what looked like exasperation. I sensed that she wanted me to say something in particular, but I had no idea what it was. I told her, “I don’t know what you want to hear, mom.”
She looked at me with tearful eyes. I couldn’t figure out the reason for such emotions, but I felt for her nevertheless. She said, “I want to know what you think, or rather I want to know what you feel after seeing that.”