Unspoken Pleasure (erotica)

See, I wrote after switching back to the text file. How do you expect me to stay away from her?Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

There are WOMEN your age.

But I love Jenna, I typed, my skin tingling and my cheeks warming. The only other woman I love is you.

I moved my fingers away from the tablet, placing them on the outside of my right thigh; only this time, I brushed my knuckles against Mom’s skin. My eyes moved from the tablet to her profile, stopping to admire the soft slope of her rising and falling breasts and the hard nipples poking through their cotton, under-lit by the tablet’s white glow. Upward, my gaze continued to her Viking-like features, taking in her lean jaw and full lips, her prominent cheeks, and the fay-like quality of her composition.

Mom stared down at the tablet, her lips slightly parted, and the urge to move forward and plant a kiss on them radiated through me with the strength of a gunshot. I looked away from Mom, over to Dad, and then back at the screen–my cock had thickened in that time, forcing a soft mmm reaction in my throat and a slight clenching of my eyes.

Mom hadn’t answered. I looked at her again. Her head turned, angling to the left, her eyes latching onto my crotch and the growing tent in my lap. Mom’s gaze sent a tingle through my cock, the head perking up as my shaft surged forward, pushing my knob against my shorts in a spear-like thrust. This time I groaned aloud.

Mom slapped my thigh.

I brushed my fingers against her bare leg before I typed, See what your plan is doing to me? I tapped the screen as if thinking, which I was, but I was only thinking about how long to wait before I started typing again. I have porn to jerk off to, but I don’t want to come alone. You’re not helping me unless you have a way to take care of me.

There was a moment of hesitation, and then Mom typed, Why isn’t looking at me enough for you? Her eyes moved to my cock again. I swear I saw a tremor run through her as she took her next breath. I’m your mother.

I didn’t hesitate. My fingers flashed across the tablet, typing, And that’s why you’re the only woman I can cheat on Jenna with.

Mom’s eyes widened, then narrowed. Her next exhale took a long time to billow downward from her nostrils. The sound from the TV grew softer, taking on a distant vibration while my senses concentrated on my mother. Cheat. I had typed cheat. Mom’s following inhale echoed in my ears as though it were one of my own breaths. She turned her head, looking at Dad, and my eyes followed her gaze. He lay deep within the couch, on his back, his head resting on a pillow pushed against the base of the armrest. He had the couch’s blanket over his body, covering him from the chest down, and his hands rested on his stomach, over the blanket. Fuck, I wish the man would snore.

I looked back at Mom.

Frozen. She’s frozen. I took a deep breath. My fingers curled and uncurled, inching toward the tablet’s soft keyboard. This is her game. It stops when she says no… and means it. A chill ran through me. What had I meant by ‘and means it’?

I pressed the back of my hand against my mother’s thigh until I met resistance, then I slid it upward, turning my pinky to the right along my mother’s skin. A shiver ran through Mom as I placed my hand on her thigh below her short-shorts. I squeezed her leg while reaching for the tablet’s keyboard with my left hand.

Do you know what I love most about watching you?

My chest turned thick as I waited for Mom to reach for the keyboard. When she did, her fingers moved by the millimeter, their forward momentum almost nonexistent, but when their tips contacted the keypad, she typed in a rush, What?

I moved much quicker than my mother. Your pubic hair. I love the way your blonde curls stick up over the waistband of the little panties you wore for me today. I heard Mom’s quick inhale. I didn’t even know that Moms were allowed to own panties that small. I glanced at her, using only my eyes. I swear I saw her smile, so I swept my thumb across her thigh, opening and closing it as I typed. Jenna doesn’t have pubic hair. She’s smooth between her legs. Mom breathed in sharply again. I get extra hard whenever I see your thick, blonde hairs.

Mom said nothing.

Do you dress like that for Dad?

Mom typed, You shouldn’t talk like that to me, taking her time and hitting backspace more than once.

Why not? I opened all of my fingers across her thigh. Jenna lets me talk to her that way. She likes it. I slid my hand across her thigh, following the inward curve and getting my middle, ring, and pink fingers between her legs before she closed them tight, trapping my three digits between her warm limbs. I can show you the videos.

Mom looked at me, then typed, You have videos?

Not new ones. I squeezed her thigh again. Not since you started this.

Her fingers moved like a whirlwind over the screen. You have to delete them. She looked at me again. And so does she.

Why?

Don’t be stupid.

As slowly as I could, as my heartbeat rose and my cock pulsed with the idea of what I was about to tell my mother, I typed, I’ll get rid of them if you let me touch you. I tapped the screen several times before I continued. Right now.

Mom stared at the screen. I stared at her. My heart swelled until my chest could no longer contain its size. Beneath my shorts, my balls tightened, and my cock tried to harden further, intent on stiffening until it snapped in two. As I was getting ready to type again, Mom answered me.

Your father is right next to us.

I breathed a sigh of relief so loud that Mom turned her head toward me. I stayed focused on the screen as I wrote, He’s either asleep or too sleepy to notice.

No.

You let me do more this afternoon.

I squeezed my mother’s thigh and forced my forefinger between her legs, joining my other fingers and getting a better grip on her limb.

Can you wait until tomorrow? Mom typed.

I swept my thumb across the top of my mother’s thigh as I applied pressure to her legs, seeking deeper access to her body. Mom didn’t budge. She squeezed her thighs together harder, and the heat from between them warmed my hand.

Stop, Mom typed.

If I do, can we go to my room?

No.

Fine, I typed. But this is what I have waiting for me next door.

I moved my fingers across my screen, clicking buttons and swiping folders until I pulled up a picture of Jenna, and she hadn’t dressed as an innocent eighteen-year-old girl would have. In the picture, she was wearing her friend’s black lingerie: stockings, garters, see-through panties, and an open-bust shelf bra. Her black, satin-gloved hands with white lace at the cuffs covered her nipples but left a good amount of her skin bare.

If not you, then Jenna, I wrote, my breathing deepening.