"Your nipples are hard, Cat."
I don't know who was more shocked by my uncle's comment, me or my mother? I glanced up from my plate of lasagna to my Uncle Gary, sitting at the other end of the kitchen table. He had a grin on his face, as though he was quite pleased with himself. He was also giving a blatant stare at mom's chest.
Uncle Gary is my mom's youngest brother and the middle child of three siblings. He's thirty-four, six years younger than mom, divorced, and born to raise hell.
After my uncle's wife left him, mom seemed to have taken pity on him, or maybe she feared that he could not cope with life as a bachelor again. Mom started inviting him over for meals occasionally and began delivering leftovers to him.
When my father's National Guard unit was deployed to Iraq, just a few months after I turned eighteen, Uncle Gary's invitations to supper became more frequent. Soon Sunday meals at our place became a regular event for him. It was a perfect arrangement. My uncle had someone to cook for him once a week and mom had some company, as well as someone to help out with chores that my father would normally have done when needed.
I was glad for my uncle's visits too. It gave me another guy to talk with and helped me to miss my dad a little less. I had not always been especially close with Uncle Gary, but we grew closer over the months. I also discovered that he was quite the opposite of my mother, Cathy, and prone to saying and doing things that most people would not consider, well... proper -- especially in the presence of his sister.
At first I wondered if I was misunderstanding my uncle's comments, or making too much out of what I heard and saw. The first time I noticed his hand slide down to mom's backside to give it a squeeze as he hugged her I thought he was just being playful. Then it happened again during his next visit. Sometimes he would comment on the clothes she wore and mention how they accentuated her shape -- especially her bust. It was then that I had to accept that my uncle's thoughts about mom were far from chaste at times. Perhaps a lot of the time.
It wasn't long after that when I too began to notice mom in ways that my uncle did. I had always considered my mother to be pretty and in great shape, especially for someone who's forty, but that eventually grew into more -- lust. Eventually Uncle Gary's comments about my mother's breasts, or how firm her ass was, began echoing in my mind. Although I knew fully well that it was unnatural and forbidden, the normal, healthy feelings I had for my mother turned into quite the opposite. I desired her in a way a son should not.
Mom isn't exactly prudish or up-tight, although one might think that if they only spent a little time with her. She's normally reserved and quiet. That's not to say she's aloof or proud -- just rather shy and introverted at times. She is the polar opposite of her brother. It's like my uncle got her share of gregariousness.
When my uncle made his comment about mom's hard nipples that Sunday I was somewhat shocked at first. Not shocked that they were hard because I had begun to notice them occasionally for over a week or more, but shocked that Uncle Gary could be so brash as to comment on them -- despite how obvious it was that they were rock hard. I knew he always spoke his mind, but this went beyond his usual playful banter. It was his sister that he was talking about after all. Still, the fact that it was my mother he was talking about did not stop a rush of excitement from coursing through me. I felt my cock twitch and my pulse quicken.
I felt guilty. But I suppose any eighteen year-old male would have reacted the same way -- whether it was his mother or not -- and especially if she was as pretty and shapely as my mother. But that is not something someone would be as honest about as I'm being.
After I gave my uncle a glance from across the table I shifted my eyes to my mother sitting to my right. She was wearing a short-sleeved dress. It was light blue and made her sapphire eyes stand out. There was a row of tiny white buttons running down the front of the dress and I noticed that the top two were undone. But what I especially noticed was how her stiff nipples stood out from the front of the dress. It was made of a thin material and hugged her chest, clinging to her breasts as she leaned over her plate of lasagna.
Mom's brilliant blue eyes met mine for a moment and she gave me a shy smile. I could tell she was embarrassed. Too embarrassed to say anything. Her cheeks were a bit flushed and she could not hold my gaze. She pushed her black hair over her shoulder, then lowered her head to her plate once more. She began pushing her food around with her fork.
"You shouldn't make comments like that about me, Gary." Mom's voice was soft and devoid of any trace of anger as she spoke. More than anything she seemed bashful.
"Come on, Cat, I've said worse." Uncle Gary was still grinning and I wondered if he was going to continue with his lewd comments now that he had clearly flustered mom.
"Yes, but not in front of Mark." Her eyes darted my way for an instant before returning to the table.
The rest of our meal was finished in near silence. It seemed as though my uncle had been shamed into restraining himself from making any more inappropriate remarks. Mom filled the awkward silence by telling him how dad was doing and informing him on all the bits of news he included in his daily emails to her from Baghdad.
Once we had finished eating mom put the leftover lasagna in the fridge and gathered our plates and utensils.
"You can take the rest of this lasagna home with you," she told my uncle as she put the casserole dish in the fridge.
"Thanks, Cat. You're a great cook. I'd starve to death if it weren't for you." Uncle Gary pushed his chair away from the table and ran a hand over his bloated stomach.
Mom turned from the dishwasher, smiling. "I don't think you have to worry about that," she said. "It looks like you've got enough fat stored up there for a while." She laughed, giving his round stomach a poke with her finger.
Uncle Gary jumped a bit as mom jabbed him with her finger. "Like you can talk! I think you've been eating a little too much of your own cooking lately, Cat." As he spoke, my uncle turned and reached for mom's ass. He gave it a hard squeeze through her dress, then ran his palm over her shapely rump.
Mom let out a squeal and lurched away from her brother's grasp, almost dropping the plate in her hand. "Stop it!" she cried out, swatting her hand at his.
I laughed, watching the antics of my mother and uncle, but I was also trying to hide my arousal. Just seconds before Uncle Gary had grabbed mom I too had noticed how her tight dress clung to the curves of her hips and ass. Her curvy body looked firm. I had been wondering if she felt as good as she looked. Now I really envied my uncle.
Mom stood in front of my uncle's chair. She did not appear angry at him, which surprised me. Actually, more than anything, she seemed quite self-conscious. Her eyes flitted towards me for a moment, then back to her brother.
"I guess I have put on a little weight since Dave left for Iraq," she said, frowning.
Almost immediately, I noticed the smirk on my uncle's face vanish. It was obvious that he felt bad for having offended and embarrassed mom. He looked up at her, then forced a smile.
"Hey, I never said you didn't look good," he said. "Besides, I think most of the weight went to your chest." As he spoke, my uncle reached up and gave mom's left breast a squeeze. His fingers curled around it as he pushed it up. Somehow his hand seemed small as he cupped her sizable breast in his palm, molding it into a large orb as he pushed it up.
Once again, mom let out a shriek and recoiled. Her breast fell with a bounce as she lunged away from her brother's grip.
Uncle Gary was laughing, but neither mom nor I were -- but each for much different reasons. She was shocked and mortified by her brother groping her, but I was rendered mute with lust and awe. After a few moments I became aware that I was staring slack-jawed at my mother's chest once more. Her nipple had stiffened and swollen again. It pushed out at the material of her dress. It was only when she turned to look my way that I realized I was leering at her. I lowered my head and kept silent.
Without a word, mom turned and resumed filling the dishwasher. Uncle Gary got up and poured himself a cup of coffee. A tense silence filled the kitchen once more. I wondered what my mom and uncle were thinking -- although I had a pretty good idea of what was on his mind. When he said he was going to the washroom and left the kitchen I felt even more nervous around my mother. She seemed to feel the same because it was over a minute before she spoke, then only tentatively.
"I'm sorry about all that." She had approached me to stand beside the table.
I shrugged. "It's not your fault, Mom," I said. "Uncle Gary's the one who's bein' bad."
Mom spat out a short, nervous laugh. "Yes, very."
Silence once again. Mom was looking at me, probably trying to think of something else to say to diffuse the tension. During the silence my eyes fell to the front of her dress again. A third button was undone now -- probably pulled open when she had jerked away from her brother's grasp. Her nipples were hard. They looked thick as they stood out against the swell of her breasts.
