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Mom’s Dirty Dancing

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When I got home late Saturday night, Mom was sitting at the kitchen table. I said to her “Geez, Mom I’m 25 years old now, you don’t have to wait up for me.”

“I know, son,” she said. “I went to bed, but I had trouble sleeping. I couldn’t relax”

Judging from the half empty bottle of scotch in front of her, she was probably good and relaxed now. Mom was 46 years old but still quite attractive. She had put on a few pounds but not much. Her ass was a little bit bigger than it used to be, but then again so were her tits. I would often catch my friends checking her out when they thought I wasn’t looking.
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