An unwanted chill would go through him. When she bent over in front of him, his eyes would fall on the opening of her blouse and he would look at the tops of her swinging breasts. He would see her come home from work dressed in her business attire and wonder if she was wearing panties.And he had done something... something that made him feel guilty and embarrassed him, yet he would do it again if he got the chance.It was Thursday evening and his father had come home from his trip that afternoon. At dinner, his mother had seemed particularly agitated, jumpy. He had no idea what was wrong.After dinner she had gone up to take a shower. Chris went to his room and his Dad was relaxing in the family room watching the news.It was about an hour later when Chris left his room and walked quietly down the hall to his mother's bedroom. He was disappointed that the door to her room was closed. He started to turn around when his mother came out, almost bumping into him. She had a bathrobe on and. She let the music seep into her, vaguely wondering where it was coming from. She kicked a leg forward and set herself swinging again. The soft rumble of far-off thunder reached her ears over the top of the soft music and Emmy’s eyes sprang open as she looked to the skies. The storm would be starting soon. She inhaled the thick ozone deeply, drawing it in like a drug as sweat trickled over every inch of her body, dripping down to mix with her sweet, aroused juices. Her fingers pressed harder against the outer lips of her hot, steamy pussy, but never went any further than that. She was aching so badly, she wanted nothing more than to drive her fingers inside her centre and ease that throb. She could feel the closeness of the air, inching across the fine hairs on her skin. The low, dense rumble of thunder primal and dark, the eerie sound of the saxophone in the night... God! Emmy thought. Emmy couldn’t resist. She slid her hands up her smooth belly and cupped her breasts. As her.
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