Mafia Desire (Erotica)

“Don’t talk about that piece of shit.”

“Watch your mouth, Ryan.” She warned me.

“Not with him I won’t. Guys a scum bag, dad always hated him and so do I because I know why.”

“You’re father told you about him?” her already large brown eyes widened.

“Yes.” I said, and continued to talk so I wouldn’t think about it, “And not only that, but that piece of crap has more money than he knows what to do with and showed up at the funeral not even offering to help you.”

“Would you want me to take it?” She asked.

“If he offered? Yes.” I shrugged, “May as well be good for something.”

“He’s good for a lot, just nothing good.” She smirked. “But anyway they are not sure if the girl is coming back and I might stay working there.”

“Mom, that’s…”

“An extra five hundred a week at least.” She pointed out. “If we could catch up, I would be making enough between both jobs and what you make to get by here without things being too tight.”

“Not worth it, those guys are bigger pigs than where you work now.”

“So?”

“So, its not right you’re there.”

“There’s nothing right about the last few months, Ryan, why should this be different?” She said quietly, “Look, at least I didn’t take the offer to work topless.”

Seeing the look on my face, she raised her hand.

“I mean it, Ryan I won’t, I swear. Not just because of how degrading it would be, but what if someone saw me and… that would be hard on you…”

“And the girls.”

“They’re too young, but I said no.” she paused, then added, “Unless they wanted to front me ten thousand, then…”

“Mom!”

“Okay, okay.” She grinned, “Besides, who wants to see a pair of forty three year old boobs when all these twenty year olds are running around, as it is I’m surprised they look at me at all.”

“You’re a gorgeous woman, mom.” I told her, meaning it. “Dad always told you that and he wasn’t kidding.” I laughed, “You know how much bullshit I still hear from friends about my cougar mother?”

“Knock it off,” she waved her hand, but was smiling, her trademark huge heartfelt smile, that always made everyone around her do the same.

“Seriously.” I gave an exaggerated sigh, “You know the kids in my class vote for Milf of the year, you won last year. I have guys asking if they can sleep over all the time.”

As mom continued to smile and shake her head, I took another look at her and this time more as a man than a son. I hadn’t been kidding, a lot of my friends, and especially Billy had been ogling my mother since they knew what they were looking at and I couldn’t blame them. Mom was tall and her legs were well shaped and as my dad would say, “went on forever”.

Although she wasn’t big in the chest department, she knew how to dress and found ways to show them off without being trashy. Her big brown eyes and full lips gave her a little bit of an exotic appearance and she’d always worn her long curly brown hair down. When seeing her in tight jeans and an occasional clingy skirt, it was easy to see why my friends raved about her ass.

For the most part I accepted the teasing as a compliment to her and never got upset, even when one night when we were drinking, Billy not only confessed he had been stroking it to my mother since middle school, but that his father had once made a comment my mother was the hottest woman his age he had ever met.

Looking at the sleazy outfit she was in I found myself imagining the look on Billy, or any of my other friend’s faces if they saw her in it.

That caused my thoughts to turn serious. The thing I hated most about her working there was it was inevitable someone was going to see here there, someone we knew well and she would hear a lot of shit. Maybe not from people who knew the situation, but others who would just think it was something to see my mother dressing like a slut. Something had to happen to get her out of there, but what?

“Hmm, any of them have money?” She cut into my thoughts, and gave her long brown hair a toss, “Maybe we could work something out.”

“Nah, they’re broke jokes, like me.”

“Screw it then. This sucks, because older guys at my age? Jeez they’d be taking me to bingo for a night out.”

“What about one your age,” I once again dared to bring up the topic she always got upset about, and I wasn’t thrilled with either, but that was selfish on my end, I had to think of her. “You know mom, dad said he wanted you to…”

“I know what he said!” she snapped, “And when I feel like I’m ready I’ll think about it. Right now all I’m worried about is keeping this house and you in school. Getting laid isn’t important.”

“But having a guy around would be good for you for…”

“I have a guy around,” she reached across the couch and touched my cheek, “And he’s a good looking young man who takes good care of me!”

“And he’s your son and I… you know I was talking about other things.”

“I have batteries for that.” She said, “And they’re easy to turn on and better yet, I can turn them off whenever I want.”

“Thanks for that.” I told her.

“Hey, what can I tell you?” she laughed, “I never said I didn’t have urges, just don’t need a guy right now.” She stopped, then slumped into the corner of the couch, “Sorry, Ryan, I shouldn’t talk about things like that with you. I guess lately I really have been seeing you not just as a son, but as an adult and…” she reached over and took my hand, “A friend, you’ve been my rock, kiddo, and I appreciate it.”

“Then promise you’ll keep your clothes on.” I grinned.

“:Okay, no topless milf of the year.”

Mom crossed her legs and reaching down rubbed her foot, “Damn,” she said, “My feet are sore,” she sighed longingly. “Those shoes…”

“Would you like me to rub… I guess so!” I laughed when mom quickly turned on the couch so her back was against the arm and placed her feet in my lap.

“Well… I knew you were going to ask.” Mom said, “That’s why… ohhhh”

Mom released a long sigh of pleasure as I cupped her right foot in my hand and rubbed my fingers into the bottom of her toes. She slid further down into the couch and as she did her skirt rose up higher and I noticed the white stockings were thigh highs and caught a glimpse of white lace between her thighs. Quickly averting my eyes, I said,

“Hey, mom, can you fix your skirt?”

“Oh, shit.” She cheeks flushed, “I’m sorry honey,” she grabbed a throw pillow from the top of the couch and shoved it between her legs, “This damn skirt is really short, I can’t imagine going out like this.”

“My friend’s could.” I winked, “Cougar.”

“Brown noser.” She winked back, “But damn you have some nice hands.”

Mom closed her eyes and for the next few minutes the only sounds in the room were her soft purrs as I rubbed her heels and the soles of her feet.

I remembered my father doing this for her every night after she came home from the salon, and on Friday nights when the girls always slept over grandma’s I knew more than that happened on the couch. That I had discovered by coming home early one night when a date fell through.

I’d come through the back door quietly in case they were in bed, but when I saw the living room light on had headed in, only to be confronted with the sight of my mother, still dressed, but with her skirt up and blouse wide open, riding my father on the couch.

I had quickly left the room, but the scene had stuck with me. Not in a sexual way, but in the way that I found it endearing that my parents, after over twenty years together and three kids, still enjoyed each other in every way.

Now sitting here rubbing her feet, I wondered if she enjoyed it for the comfort of her sore feet or was it a connection to my father? Not him, but a familiar act and from the closest thing remaining to her of my dad, me.

“Tell you what, honey.” Mom said, her eyes still closed, “You do this for a girlfriend and she will be hooked. Your dad raised you right when it came to taking care of women.”

“You did to.” I reminded her. “What did you say? You ever mistreat a girl; I’ll cut the damn thing off myself?”

“I might have said that once.” She sighed as I worked her left heel a little more and swinging her legs from my lap, stretched and yawned.

“Thank you, honey, but I think it’s time for us both to go to bed, another long day tomorrow.”

“Oh!” I reached into my sweat pants and removed the rolled up twenties. “Bill’s dad had some work for me today and I made a hundred bucks!”

“Oh, honey, you already work too much.” She pushed my hand away, “Keep it.”

“We can put it on the cable bill. I tried to give Mrs. Williams twenty, but she said no.”

“She’s sweet, been very good to us over the years.” She took the money and with a grin, stuffed it in her shirt, “Just like work. Well, good…”

“What happened at the bank, mom?” I asked, before she could get up.

“The bank.” She looked away from me, “Figures you’d remember that.”

“I did and I guess I know the answer.”

“Yeah, you do.” She turned on the couch to face me. “They turned me down.”

“I thought you said they had some kind of bridge loan thing and you were going to borrow against dad’s pension and…”

“They said that’s too risky, sometimes the companies fold overnight, the people who invest the money do something stupid and lose it and no one ever sees it.”

“The house?” I asked hopefully.

“They won’t lend against the house, not with a close to thirty grand lean on it. Besides, we’re almost four payments behind and they saw that, shit, Ryan, we need six thousand just to catch up. Everything we make covers food, gas, insurance, the utilities and the couple of hundred a month I pay on the medical bills.”

Mom took a deep breath and whispered, “We’re going to have to move Ryan; my only choice is bankruptcy and start over.”

“The girls will be…”

“I know.” She nodded, “Believe me, I know. Not just them but I… I won’t have next year’s tuition for you.”