Sweetie… You didn't really have to pull at my panties, right?"
That question of hers sliced into me like a blade. For a second my thoughts scattered. She said it so innocently, with no suspicion at all — and that made it ten times worse.
I scrambled for a reply. "I had to, mom. The cloth kept slipping, and I couldn't hold you properly. I don't want you to get hurt."
She sighed softly, almost relieved. "I knew you'd have a reason. You're always careful with me. God bless you, my boy."
That blind trust of hers strangled me. She believed me too much. More than I deserved.
I swallowed, my throat dry. "Maybe… If I use a little oil, your body will slide easier. It'll loosen your back too."
I expected her to question it, but no — she accepted at once. "Oil? Mm. Yes, that makes sense. You always know what to do. Do it, sweetie. I believe you."
Believe. Always that word. She had no idea what it was doing to me.
I fetched the small bottle from the nightstand, knelt back down, and poured the liquid into my palms. It felt cool at first, then warm and slick. I rubbed my hands together and reached for her.
The first touch lit my nerves on fire.
I pressed the oil along her side, gliding over soft skin, down her hips, slipping lower until my palms were spread across the shape of her thighs.
She trembled a little. "Ahhh… that feels warm. Different. But nice."
I forced a reply, my voice low. "It'll help loosen you. Just keep still. I'll take care of it."
"You're so thoughtful," she whispered. "God knew I would need a son like you."
I almost laughed at the cruelty of fate — hearing her say that while my body burnt with thoughts no son should ever have.
As I worked the oil down her waist, she spoke again, almost as if talking to herself.
"You know, sweetie… Your father never touched me like this. He told me closeness between husband and wife was unholy. He said it was against the Word. So… we never knew those things. I believed him. I thought he must be right."
The words struck me. For half a heartbeat my brain screamed: If he never touched her… then how did I come into this world?
But lust clouded reason like smoke choking air. I shoved the thought aside. I only mumbled, "You… you're amazing, Mom. Not many women could trust like that."
She let out a small laugh. "Amazing? Or foolish? Other women teased me… they said I didn't know what a wife should know. I never argued. I only prayed for purity. Even now… I am untouched in ways I sometimes don't even understand."
Her words made my chest pound. She was admitting it — a wife, still naïve. A virgin in spirit and flesh.
I whispered back fast, "You're special. Don't ever think it's foolish. You're the purest woman I've ever known."
She fell quiet at that, as if my words dug into her in ways she couldn't explain to herself.
The oil made her skin glow in the dim lamplight, her body slippery under my hands. I slid across the dip of her lower back, barely above the forbidden curves of her pussy. My fingers trembled on the edge, brushing close to the heat of the place no man had touched. Clit
She shivered, a small gasp slipping out. "Careful, sweetie… I've never felt anyone press there. It makes me weak…"
I whispered quickly, "It's okay. Breathe. I just want you relaxed."
She gave a tiny laugh, nervous but trusting. "Strange… It feels sinful, yet comforting, because it's you. You're my boy. You'd never mislead me."
The guilt of those words ate through my chest. If only you knew what I'm thinking…
But my hands didn't stop.
Her voice came soft again while I worked the oil further.
"When I was young, even holding a boy's hand felt like a terrible sin. I pulled away and begged God to forgive me. My mother always said, 'Stay clean, daughter. God wants pure vessels.' So I never let anyone close. Not then… not even later with your father. He never asked. Not once."
There it was, plain as day. She said it. Clear enough for me to connect the dots. But lust muffled reason. My body's hunger drowned logic.
I only whispered, "That makes you more pure than anyone else I've ever known."
She chuckled softly. "You don't think I'm silly?"
"No," I said quickly. "You're… beautiful. Not silly. Never silly."
It was true. Every word.
By then, my hands had grown bolder. I slid the oil lower, massaging at the edges of her thighs, so close that my fingers almost touched the hidden folds of her pussy.
Her body trembled again. She whispered, almost afraid of herself:
"Oh Lord… Why does it feel so good there? My body feels… alive. I've never felt this before."
My breath caught. I murmured back, "It's just me helping you. Trust me… nothing bad will happen."
She nodded faintly, still pressed against the floor. "If you say so, sweetie. I believe you. I always believe you."
Her words nearly undid me.
The room was choking hot now. Her body shone with oil, trembling beneath my palms. Her quiet breaths had turned into uneven gasps. Every moment I was straining against the wall inside me, breaking, ready to fall.
Then she whispered, voice raw and shaken:
"Sweetie… Tell me the truth. This is still just helping me, isn't it? Nothing unholy is happening?"
Her innocence struck like lightning. My lips parted, my throat worked — but no sound came.