Blame It On Dance

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 17

I still remember the bone-crunching thump as mum tripped and fell heavily to the hardwood floor. I sprang out of my room and ran to her side. I bent down and said, “Mum… mum — are you ok?” I was concerned that she may have severely injured herself. She just lay on her back with her eyes closed — sobbing. In between sobs she explained that nothing felt like it was broken other than her pride and her butt felt really sore from landing so heavily.

As I stood back up I innocently asked, “Well, what were you doing anyway?” It was then that I noticed how much of mum was on display. The tie on her robe had come loose leaving it completely open and bunched around her shoulders. Her camisole was twisted to the right, which in turn forced her left breast completely out the side, displaying a dark beige n—-e perfectly centered on a rather large, but light pink, areola. Her legs were splayed apart at odd angles and that caused her French knickers to pull tightly across her pelvic area outlining a very prominent p—y. The effect on my c–k was immediate, no time to think distracting thoughts, no time to consider that this woman is my mother, no time to think of any possible consequences, just Bang! Flaccid to steel rod in microseconds. It was while mum was responding to my previous question that she noticed the tent in my track pants, “I was just doing some dancing prac….,” she was saying then cut herself short. She looked up to my face open-mouthed and eyebrows raised inquisitively. I could feel myself going bright red from embarrassment. I tried to mumble an apology but the words just wouldn’t come out. What could I say anyway? Slowly mum looked away and I think it was then that she realised just how disheveled she was. “Oh my god!” she shrieked as she quickly pushed her breast back and pulled the robe around her. It was now mums turn to be embarrassed.

I found my voice again and said, “Let me give you a hand to get up,” and simultaneously offered her my hand. She looked up at me, still slightly red and said, “thank you son.” But as she took my hand I noticed her glance toward my crutch area once again. “I think I best be off to bed now anyway,” she continued. “So what were you doing mum?” I asked again. “Well, with your dad not being able to dance for another year I didn’t want to lose any of my skills either. I have worked too d–n hard to get where I have, so I thought I would just continue with some practice, but it looks like that wasn’t such a good idea was it!” With that mum said goodnight, turned and hobbled up the stairs. I watched mum leave then turned off the lights and returned to my room. As I lay on the bed thinking about what I had just witnessed, an idea was starting to form on how I could help mum out, then sleep finally overtook me. The next morning I woke to the sound of mum getting dad’s breakfast ready.