Russell watched as the Lexus driver took a little bit too long to get himself lined up. Russell had wept along with his mother at the funeral. She would be mortified to know he had ever heard her. But he had outgrown his lust for his mom a long time ago. He had girlfriends, of course, more than his mom knew about. And yes, on occasion, flick through them with his hand in his pants. A moment later the older guy clenched his ass and lifted the young guy a couple of inches, groaning as he did so. Just as his reversing lights came on, a tiny orange Fiat drove up the street and swung in behind it, right into the space, claiming the spot. Six months ago, almost to the day, his father had been knocked down there and killed by a drunk driver. Possibly it was because she was still a beautiful woman. She looked at his damp shorts and reached for them. Then she pulled the shift on over her head and turned around. He sat down quickly, feeling the hot water roll over him and relief as the bubbles covered him up to his waist. She took the shower attachment and played it on her son's head, wetting his hair. Russell stared straight ahead concentrating on not getting a hard on. It stuck to her and her breasts became visible as the thin cotton became translucent. Look at me." He turned and saw his mother's breasts clearly defined through her wet shift, jiggling about as she scrubbed him. Her son's more than half-hard cock staring up at her. So the presence of a woman, even his mother, was having an effect. I'm not interested in what you have down there, Russell, and don't be ashamed if you have a natural reaction. She threw it on the floor and turned, unable to ignore his physique, admiring his pecs, his flat stomach and trim waist. "I have some bubble bath that will give you a little privacy down there. She stood in her bra and panties with her back to him and unclipped her bra. Now you can get me as wet as you want." Russell was speechless. As he did so she could not help but catch a glimpse of his sweet cock hanging down. It was thick and seemed to be sticking out a little. She put some liquid soap on her hand and rubbed him down starting with his chest, shoulders, then back. She made sure plenty of bath water ran down her arms as she scrubbed him, wetting her shift. Keep them tight shut while I finish washing you." She finished his hair, rinsed it, and without thinking, she scooped bubbles away from the bathwater. Try to figure out what's going on in his mind, how this has come about. Try to stop him from meeting these men in parks." Run In The Park. She'd be back to work in a week and he'd be back to school. We believe in the teachings of the Church, the word of Jesus and Our Lord. We have to try and save him ourselves." "How do we do that? "Now remember, Hannah," said Juliet as she ushered her sister out the door, "Don't confront him yet.
The road was wet and Russell splashed through the puddles.
He heard his mother come out of the bathroom and go downstairs.
He had always liked his uncle, who had never been anything but kind to him.
Perhaps a little like Eva Longoria, slim, petite, desirable. Breakfast With Uncle Gilbert It was three days to Christmas. Everyone wants their cars fixed before the holidays. " Uncle Gilbert worked at one of the big car dealerships on Route 52 and often dropped in on the way to work for a coffee. "Take your stuff upstairs before you go, please," she snapped at him as he put on his trainers. He went up to his room and dumped his things on the bed. Russell did it when she nagged him, but he never did it quite right.
Russell was out of school for the holidays, while his mom was using up vacation in her job as a secretary at Du Pont. Russell and his mom were enjoying a moment of quiet at the breakfast table, his mother reading The Covenant, her church newsletter, while Russell was catching up with the sports news on his IPad when the front door burst open and Uncle Gilbert was there. He had started this habit after Russell's dad died, just to make sure things were OK in the household. They both picked up their bags and IPads and books and put them over on the kitchen countertop in a big pile, leaving the table free of everything except coffee, toast, and muffins. "Now, how are you Gilbert, and how is Juliet getting on with her quilt? She watched as he collected his stuff and walked up the stairs to his room. He looked so like his father, more so with every day. She felt an ache in her that was not entirely maternal.