This is part of a series of unrelated yet similarly themed fictional short stories entitled MATURE SECRETS. They can be read in any order. All characters are fictional, and all are over 18.
I joined a rock band my senior year of high school. It was the first band for most of us, and we weren't that great for a bunch of eighteen-year-olds. But we all had the usual dreams of fame, fortune, and chicks. The first couple of practices were at my house, but after that it was nearly always at Steve's house. One reason for that was because Steve's mom seemed to actually enjoy having us there making noise in her basement. Another reason was that I encouraged it, because I actually enjoyed being around Steve's mom.
Mrs. Kegal was just divorced fairly recently. She is a career woman with a degree, but sometimes she acted a little silly and ditsy, it seemed to me. As the mother of an eighteen-year-old, she had some miles on her - well into her forties certainly, maybe even older. She had sort of an attractive face despite a few wrinkles. Her eyes were brown, and she had stylish teased strawberry blonde hair that didn't quite reach her shoulders, that was usually in need of combing by the time of the evening that I got there. She was a couple of inches shorter than me, maybe 5' 5" tall. Frankly, she wasn't someone that would normally be considered striking or a "babe". But she had two distinctive features that always caught my attention: her left tit, and her right tit.
On this Friday night, as it had several other times, it started before I ever got to the basement rehearsal area. I arrived at the front door with my guitar, and, as Steve was already down in the basement, Mrs. Kegal let me in, wearing a tight thin beige sweater. She had a couple of similar ones she wore often, that clung to her big tits, and cut way down in a "V", practically down to her bra, actually showing some of her ample cleavage. As I wiped my feet off by the door, I watched her jiggle back to the couch, where she sat and folded laundry. As she made small talk to me, she leaned over, showing cleavage spilling out of her sweater and bra, and I took my time cleaning my shoes.
As she often does, she was wearing some really tight black stretchy pants, spandex maybe or possibly cotton. I don't even know if she had the right figure for those; her butt wasn't all that little. I mean she had a slim waist for a mom, which made her tits look big, but she had a tad bit of a wide butt. You could easily see her panty lines through the skin-tight fabric, and her butt jiggling when she walked. I caught the other guys looking at her rear-end a couple of times. But we never talked about it, even when Steve wasn't around. I wasn't going to admit to my friends that I found any of their moms arousing.
She was sorting her own underwear. My teen eyes bounced from her cleavage to her pile of colorful panties, and a couple of HUGE empty bras of various pastels. They seemed gigantic to me, lying there on the couch in front of her with the cups flattened out, but then I looked at her tits and I could see that she had plenty to fill those cups with. I know that she was a working single mom and had precious little time for housekeeping. Yet it seemed a little odd to me that she would so often have her underwear out on display when she knew that several teenaged males were coming over.
I saw one thing I hadn't noticed before. There was a glass of wine on the coffee table in front of her.
About thirty minutes into the rehearsal, Mrs. Kegal came down to the basement. She was always around at practices, and seemed to use any excuse to come down when we were rehearsing. Sometimes she had questions for Steve, sometimes she'd bring down snacks and pop, but often she just came down to listen. That's when I would sometimes have trouble concentrating on my guitar playing, as I got aroused by the way she dressed.
Tonight that thin beige sweater showed every seam of her big bra. The fabric seemed painted to her chest as her heavy wide tits hung down a little from their own weight. The sweater scooped down to expose the top of her cleavage. That's when I really caught Jim and Ronnie staring at her. They looked at her as she bounced down the stairs, and when she leaned over to put the drinks and snacks down on the table, they peered right into her top at her exposed cleavage.
She gave us all sexy smiles as she stood leaning on a metal poles that supported the ceiling. At the start of one fast song, Mrs. Kegal started dancing in front of us. Perhaps that glass of wine put her in a more chipper mood than usual.
As she danced, her cleavage jumped out of her bra and blouse. I could both see Jim and Ronnie staring at her bouncing tits and shaking ass, as I was. She gave Steve a smile and a wink. He just smiled and shook his head a little. She moved her shoulders back and forth, and kicked her legs up a few times.
After the song ended, Jim, our tall singer and guitarist with the long blonde hair, said, "Nice dancing, Mrs. Kegal." Us other boys all mumbled in agreement.
"I'm your number one groupie!" Mrs. Kegal laughed. The other guys grinned silently at her.
"Do you even know what that word means, Mom?" Asked Steve.
"Yes, I grew up in the sixties, Steve," she laughed, although I wasn't sure what that meant.
"You should come to our shows and get everybody up dancing," commented Ronnie, the bass player.
"On TV they always show a woman in the front row flashing her boobs at the band," Mrs. Kegal continued. "Maybe I should flash my boobs at your next show."
"OK," Jim said, with a smile on his face.
"Yeah, fine with us," Ronnie agreed. I just smiled, but I was getting a hard-on watching Steve's mom dance and flirt and talk dirty to us, talking about showing us those big boobs.
"Mmmm," was Mrs. Kegal's reply to that, smiling. "Play 'Come On Over' now," she said, requesting our original song.
"We're kind of tired of that one. We're working on a new song," I said.
"Ohh!" She replied, with a pouting expression. Then she smiled and said, "If you do "Come On Over," I'll flash you." The band members all looked at each other and grinned, even Steve.
I don't know if anyone took her seriously, but Jim started playing 'Come On Over,' and the rest of us eagerly jumped in. Mrs. Kegal stood in front of the band, smiling through the first verse, dancing in place, causing her "boobs" to shake again. Then she grabbed the hem of her sweater, with her elbows sticking out to the sides, and started to lift.
Mrs. Kegal's bare midriff came into view. She bunched up her top with her fingers, and I could see her fingers grab the bottoms of her bra cups. With one quick movement, Steve's mom lifted her top and bra up, and her big tits fell out. She held her top and bra over her tits, arched her back, and stuck her bare tits out at us. Her tits were white, almost transparent, and hung down a little. They were topped with large brown areolas.
I glanced over at the other guys. Jim and Ronnie, on guitar and bass, had big grins on their faces as they stared at Mrs. Kegal's tits. Steve, on drums, had eyes as big as saucers, and his jaw hung open.
Steve's mom smiled and shook her tits. I couldn't believe how much they bobbled and jiggled. I thought she'd cover up again, but she just kept showing them as we played. It was hard to concentrate on our playing. We made a lot of mistakes, but just played through them.
Mrs. Kegal pulled her sweater over her head, through her hair, and dropped it on the floor. Then she reached back and unhooked her bra, and dropped it. She proudly danced completely topless, with a big smile on her face. I could see a red line from where the bottom of her bra had dug into her flesh, and her tits hung down over that in front. At first they mostly swayed back and forth and around. Then she seemed to purposely bounce around to make them fly in all directions, as she put her hands in the air and thrust her chest in and out. Her torso was pretty pale, but her tits seemed even whiter and shone like beacons, maybe because her chest and face had obviously seen more sun.
When the song came to an end, I tried to keep it going to watch Mrs. Kegal's tits more, but the other guys weren't thinking clearly enough for that, and it stopped at its natural conclusion. We three guitarists whistled and applauded our drummer's mom for her thrilling performance. "Wooo! Alright Mrs. Kegal!" shouted Ronnie. Jim and I applauded. Steve actually laughed at his mom's show.
Mrs. Kegal let out a little "Wooo!" Herself, giving her tits one last shake. She looked a little flushed. Her expression was one of surprise, like she amazed herself that she did that. But she didn't seem embarrassed at being topless in front a group of her son's friends, or immediately try to cover up as I feared. She said, "Now play 'You'll Be The One', and I'll keep dancing." So we immediately launched into the medium-tempo rocker.
Mrs. Kegal stood right in front of Jim as he sang, and shook her tits in the face of the tall guitarist with the long blonde hair. She stood next to him, and pressed her tits into his right shoulder. Jim was wearing a tight tee shirt, and I watched as Mrs. Kegal rubbed her hard nipples against his bare arm. As she did this she pressed her crotch into his leg, and rubbed up and down on him, humping him like a dog. Then she reached behind him with her left hand and grabbed his ass. Jim just grinned and tried to keep singing and playing.
Mrs. Kegal did the same thing to Ronnie, our bassist, who was about my height, and like me, a fairly skinny kid with brown hair parted at the side and bangs nearly covering his eyes. She also reached down with her right hand and groped his crotch! He held his low-strapped bass to the side for better access, a clear sign that he enjoyed it.
