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Message-ID: <51308asstr$1117829404@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "NC" <hairpinbend@yahoo.com>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 3 Jun 2005 17:16:27 +0000 (UTC)
Cache-Post-Path: newsfd02!unknown@ppp5-216.ath.forthnet.gr
Subject: {ASSM} Mother's Wardrobe Part 3.1 (M/F, mother/son, inc)
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Date: Fri,  3 Jun 2005 16:10:04 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Mother's Wardrobe 3.1
by NC (M/F, mother/son, inc)

Needless to say, that after that, I became even more obsessed. I even
started believing that she was doing all that stuff on purpose, in order to
turn me on or something. On the other hand, my logic (or whatever was left
of it), was telling me that she is my mother and she loves me. It was as
simple as that. Yes, she feels comfortable enough to be naked, in front of
you. So what, moron? You are her son. She trusts you implicitly. She thinks
you are innocent. She can't possibly imagine what's going on, inside that
dirty head of yours. If she had any idea at all, you would now be off on
paid vacation to the loony bin.

With these beautiful thoughts daily in my mind, another week passed. And
then, one afternoon, she called me to her bedroom, to help her with her
wardrobe. You see, every 2-3 years, she picks out all the
clothes that are too old, or the ones she doesn't want anymore (for whatever
reason), and gives them to the church. I knew beforehand what she was doing,
so I went to her room, with no expectations. Yeah well... how the hell should
I know that I would find her naked again!!! That's right. I walked
unsuspectingly into the bedroom, whistling a jaunty tune, and there she was...
all naked! NAKED, I tell you!!!!!

OK, I guess you can all understand my surprise, which was genuine this time.
I even tried to apologize for my... intrusion (even though she was the one
that called me), but before I had the chance to speak, she said "oh here you
are! Good... I need your help."

The room was a mess. It looked like it had been hit by a hurricane. There
were clothes all over the place... even on the floor. "No wonder why she gives
her clothes to the poor," I thought. "This isn't charity. It's necessity.
There isn't any more room for them."

By the way, like that time in the bathroom, she covered her nudity with her
hands, the moment I stepped into the room. Only this time, I didn't detect
the same haste. I mean, she covered herself alright, but I got the
impression that she did it more because it was the proper thing to do, and
not because she felt any actual embarrassment. The next minutes, I would be
proven right. I mean, she was doing stuff, so she had to use her hands. It
was inevitable. So, at first she would move them whenever necessary, and
then she would cover herself again... but each time, with less determination,
willingness, and care. After a few minutes, she stopped this silliness
altogether.  I mean, it was pointless. First of all, I could see everything
anyhow, and then, let's face it... If she didn't want to be naked, she wouldn'
t be naked. And the biggest turn on, was that she had no reason to be naked.
Well, she wasn't shy of me. That was for sure.

Anyway, thinking about it, was getting me nowhere, so I decided to stop
overanalyzing it. Obviously for her, it was not a big deal.  I sat in the
bed, next to a pile of clothes. "Just relax and enjoy the show," I said to
myself. From the looks of things, this was going to take a while.

To be continued...
-----------------------------------------
Comments are always welcomed and appreciated.
NC

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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