It's been four months since the cruise and a return to regular life. Although now when my wife would go shopping or step out for a little while, I would go into the back of my nightstand drawer and pull out my mom's used pantyhose that she had left me with. Taking one leg of them, I'd slowly slide it down the length of my shaft, sending shivers through me as the silky nylon passed over the sensitive head of my cock. I would usually jerk off with the memories of our few moments on the cruise until I came and my semen was seeping through the nylon.
My mom and I spoke a couple of times a month, which was normal for us. In the intervening time since the cruise, she had put a pause on her current relationship so she was living alone for the first time in a very long time. Sometimes--again, if my wife wasn't home--the topic of the cruise would come up. I know I certainly still wanted more, but if she did she didn't let on much.
Until that is, certain insinuations started creeping into our conversations. I feel like I'm probably more open than most to... different sexual thoughts. After all, I did fuck my own mother. But even I was a little surprised when the idea of a threesome with my wife took form. She's certainly never been open to any exploration outside of just us, so I was initially apprehensive at the suggestion. But the stiffening of my cock betrayed me, and over the course of a few months my mother and I began to plot.
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The next trip back home landed up being for Christmas. It's an eight hour drive, and I usually drive most of it. We talked about our plans while visiting, which included a fancy dinner out since my mom didn't feel like making a big dinner herself. My wife, who doesn't dress up often, brought along her only dress. At my insistence she also brought black stockings to wear with her dress. I had purposefully been holding out on sex with her for awhile by now, and she knows I love nylon.
We eventually arrive, and my mother greets us at the door. I immediately notice that she's apparently been doing something different as she seems to have lost some weight. We hug, and I doubt my wife noticed my hand linger on my mother's ass a moment. Damn, I'm already hard and I have to wait until tomorrow night.
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As we're getting ready to head out the next evening, my wife and I change in the spare bedroom we stay in while visiting. She humors me as I walk over to run my hand up her freshly stockinged leg prior to her putting her heels on. I can also feel her apprehension at dressing like that for what's basically a family outing. But her pent up sexual frustration was what won out since she knows I'll want something later. She just doesn't know what that will really be!
When we're ready to head out, we meet up with my mom in the living room. She too is in a dress, and black nylons. My wife, again knowing my love for nylon, certainly catches my leering and I give her a knowing smirk.
A little later at dinner, sitting between my wife and mother and while waiting for the food to arrive, I place my hand on my wife's knee under the table. Of course it's completely hidden by the table cloth, but I only manage to get halfway up her stockinged leg before she brushes me away.
On the other hand, after dinner my wife excused herself for the restroom prior to leaving--so I take the opportunity to run my other hand along my mom's nylon covered leg. In response she parts her legs a little more, and I am able to reach high enough to tell she's in pantyhose. But then I see my wife returning and I reluctantly remove my hand from my mother's inner thigh.
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I sit in the back of the car from the ride home, mainly to hide my raging hard on. We share idle chit chat for a bit, and within a half hour we're back at the house. My heart was pounding.
The entrance to my mom's house basically opens to a sitting room, with open doorways on either side of the wall facing you as you enter--to the left is the entrance to the kitchen and to the right is the living room, and both of those are separately by a counter.
We go into the living room to hang out and chat, my wife and I on the couch around the corner from the sitting room and my mother on one of the two other chairs. Shortly thereafter my mom says she needs to check something out front and excuses herself. Her heels click on the hardwood floor as she heads through the kitchen, and out towards the front door. At the sounds of the door opening and closing, I lean over begin to kiss my wife's neck.
