I put the housecoat on and wrapped it around my body. My legs were still shaking a little bit, and my heart was still beating fast, but I was OK other wise.
I had no idea just what my mother was going to say when I got to the kitchen, but since she had asked so politely and told me to come as I was dressed, I simply went. I had put my now deflated penis back in the panties and entered the kitchen from the laundry room, walked the short distance to the kitchen table and sat down, facing my mother at the counter.
"Do you feel better now Vinny?" It was said as if I had just washed my face and hands. No rancor or recrimination, anger or hostility in her voice or manner. I was both relieved and yet concerned. Her reactions so far had been so totally out of character and my expectations. I was unsure of just what to expect next. She was dressed in a pretty, pale blue flowing skirt and off white cotton blouse. While I could see her bra shape the material was opaque and hide the bra itself. Nylons, pantyhose I'm sure, were over her feet that were standing in blue pumps. She was very comfortable in her being while I was a nervous wreck wondering what would come next.
"I'm glad we'll have this chance to talk, Vinny. I was only surprised that I caught you, not that you were wearing my clothes. I've known for some time that you liked to masturbate in my lingerie. My panties were stretched and there were little stains on them. I understand how males are, that when you get an erection there seems to only one way to relieve the, what shall I say, pressure? "
I muttered a weak "uh huh' and just sat there.
"I want you to be happy, Vinny, and what ever I can do to help you be happy I want to do. Within limits, of course."
I really had no response in mind, but I did know what I liked. But, I was still in a bit of shock and both eager and afraid to really tell her.
"So, tell me, Vinny, just what do you like? And one of the limits is no physical sex between you and I. No intercourse. Or blow jobs."
Her frankness shocked me. I didn't want intercourse. I never even had that thought. Nor a blow job. That never crossed my mind. What I wanted was to be teased. Teased and a bit humiliated for wanting to play with her panties. And bras. And other lingerie. But, just how do I go about telling her?
"When I was a young woman I used to be a bit of a prick tease. On dates I'd like to get a guy hard and leave him that way, knowing he'd go home and masturbate thinking of me. I'd let guys feel me up, under my bra even, but then I'd sop them. I casually let my hand brush across their hard cocks just to be sure I was getting them hard. Then I'd insist they take me home. Of course I was horney too, so I'd jill off thinking of them stroking their cocks. We didn't have the internet then, so I had to imagine what a guy looked like jackin' off. Oh, the imagination is a wonderful thing. What do you think of that, Vinny?":
"Being a guy in that situation I know what he felt like. Frustrated and a bit angry at the purposeful teasing with no relief. But it sure made me horney and yes, I'd get off two or three times after a date like that."
"Did you use my panties to help, Vinny?"
"I did sometimes, if there were used panties in the hamper."
"Don't the girls ever give you a hand job? I started doing that because I didn't want to go home right away and I didn't want my date to be agitated and jumpy and horney. That was no fun. I know how horney I was and my friend Louise's brother told her how uncomfortable it was for guys. They used to share all kinds of things and that is where I learned more about guys at first. So, I'd rub them through their pants until they had an orgasm. I only did that a few times because it made a mess in their pants. Don't the girls do that for you, Vinny?"
