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Maternal desire 

    page views:1  Publication date:2023-03-24  
When I returned home for the Christmas holidays, I couldn't wait to show her the new playing techniques I had learned, but my mother never played with me; she just stood behind me watching. As the days passed, I hoped that the scene from late summer this year would repeat itself, especially hoping for another "high heels" incident. Christmas passed uneventfully, and then came New Year's Eve. My mother asked if I would like to play a piece or two at the New Year's party she was hosting.

"Of course, what would you like to hear?"

"Why don't you play a few first, and I'll choose," my mother said, her expression more excited than throughout the holidays.

I sat down and began to play. When I started the second piece, my mother put her hand on my shoulder. After the piece ended, she sat down on the piano bench next to me, anticipating my next piece. I played the third piece with all my heart. When the piece ended and my mother praised my performance with great joy, my chest tightened a little.

"This is truly... what do you young people say... wonderful!" Mom praised enthusiastically, leaning slightly towards me.

"Thank you, Mom, I've learned so much at university," I replied proudly.

"It's not just about studying; you have a natural talent for it," Mom said, a radiant smile spreading across her face.

My face flushed slightly, and I lowered my head.

"You should give a recital at church."

I immediately looked up; this wasn't what I wanted. "Mom, but..." "Oh, you should do it, please, Joe." I shook my head again. "Mom, you know I..."

"This is very important to me," Mom interrupted, her voice unusually gentle.

The change in her voice stirred a strange feeling within me. I lowered my head, avoiding her gaze, afraid she would easily discover the sordid thoughts in my mind, but I was surprised to see Mom's right hand fingers pulling at the hem of her skirt, slowly lifting it from her knees upwards. I froze, my eyes fixed on Mom's thighs.

"I really want to see you perform in front of everyone, that would be so wonderful," Mom whispered.

Her hands gripped the hem of her skirt, her legs pulled back, then she pulled the hem up towards her hips. Her left knee shifted slightly outward, but was blocked by the chair leg, so her right leg moved to the other side, spreading her legs apart and pulling the skirt up even higher. Suddenly, light reflected off a narrow strip of white fabric, making it stand out against the dark skirt.

"You'll listen to me, won't you?" Mom asked, her voice still gentle, but less steady than before.

"I'm going back to school in a couple of days."

"Oh, then it'll be fine during summer vacation, right?" My words caught in my throat, but I nodded anyway, and after a moment, my voice was a little hoarse as I said, "Okay, of course, if Mom insists I do it this way." "Of course I do," Mom whispered, even though it was just the two of us at home.

At the same time, she thrust her hips forward, her vulva peeking out perfectly from beneath the cotton fabric of her panties, unlike the black lace panties I'd seen before which revealed more secrets, though I'd already filled in the rest in my mind.

"You're so good at pleasing me, Joe~" Mom's tone returned to almost normal, though still a little hoarse.

"But it'll have to wait until before summer vacation ends, right?" I said.

Mom frowned slightly and repeated, "After summer vacation?"

"Yes, because we need to practice for a while," I said.

"Practice? With me?"

"Yes," I replied, seemingly regaining some confidence, "I want to perform a four-hand piano duet with you." "Oh, Joe, I can't play with you, your playing level is already better than mine." "Of course you can, you just need some practice." "No, I'll be seen as an idiot."

"Nonsense!" The word I blurted out sounded almost like a swear word to Mom. Her eyes widened, realizing that I could actually use that word in front of her, my feelings must be real and intense.

"But..."

"I only want to play with you, Mom." I gently pressed my index finger to her lips, stopping her argument.

"I need you to come on stage with me, the two of us, to play together." Mom looked deeply into my eyes, and I looked back at her firmly. She must have been very pleased with my attitude, because she suddenly smiled sweetly and nodded in agreement, "Okay, Joe, I promise to perform with you on stage, a duet between Mom and son." She leaned forward and kissed me. I acted a little surprised, tilting my head back slightly, and Mom's lips landed on my cheek, pressing a kiss on the corner of my mouth. When she pulled away, her face was slightly flushed, and she realized that the kiss was a little too intimate.

My mind went blank, and as she pulled back, I leaned in and kissed her back, my lips covering the side of hers, as if in revenge for what I had just done. After the fleeting kiss, I was surprised to find my hands on her waist, and after a brief caress, I awkwardly pushed her away. My mind was filled with strange excitement about how slender her waist was and how beautiful the curve from her waist to her hips was.

I lowered my eyes and took one last look at the lovely triangle between my mother's panties and thighs, then patted her bare knees and said, "If you don't want me to embarrass myself at tonight's party, you'd better start practicing now." That night, I played quite well and became the focus of the entire party. Around midnight, a few women at the party, a little tipsy from a few drinks, were laughing and joking loudly. They moved around to my side and expressed their admiration and affection for me under the mistletoe-covered doorway. (Translator's note: At Christmas, it's customary to kiss someone of the opposite sex while standing under mistletoe, and the other person generally cannot refuse.) Unfortunately, I was only somewhat interested in two of them and didn't mind kissing them, and one of the women kissed me in public without any hesitation. I was somewhat surprised by the behavior of these women who frequented the church. After a few drinks, under the cover of night, they eagerly flirted with strangers, seemingly forgetting all their promises to their lovers.

After everyone had left, Dad went upstairs drunk, while I stayed behind to help Mom clean up the mess from the party, so we wouldn't have to do a major cleaning the next morning. Just as Mom was about to leave the kitchen, I came in from the living room with the last two glasses in my hand, and we bumped into each other in the porch. Mom took the glasses from me and placed them on the table next to her without immediately rinsing them in the sink.

"That's enough for tonight, thank you for your help, son."

I nodded.

"You played wonderfully tonight, everyone appreciated your performance." Mom paused, then continued, "I noticed Mrs. Erickson was particularly pleased." Mom was alluding to the passionate kiss the beautiful woman had given me under the mistletoe.

Although she was joking, I sensed a hint of jealousy in her tone, so I looked up at the top of the porch, avoiding her gaze. But she followed my gaze, and our eyes locked onto the mistletoe still hanging on the porch. I reached for the light switch and snapped it down, plunging the kitchen into darkness. My mother's upturned face was illuminated by a sliver of dim light from the living room. I wrapped my arms around her waist and lowered my head to her.

"Happy New Year, Mom," I whispered, pressing my lips to hers before she could react.

My mother didn't resist; in fact, she returned my kiss just as Mrs. Erickson had done, her breasts pressed tightly against my chest. As my lips met hers, she rose on tiptoe and kissed me back.

The kiss wasn't long, nor short. When my mother ended the kiss, her breathing was a little rapid.

After I succumbed to my physical desires and kissed her, we both seemed a little awkward.

"Oh dear, I think this year is going to be tough," Mom said, turning her head away to avoid my gaze. She didn't really need to do that, because I was also glancing around, avoiding her eyes.

Mom walked past me and quickly went upstairs to her bedroom.

A few days later, I returned to university.

[The End]

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