I quickly looked away but a minute later I glanced sideways to confirm what I hoped: Mom was indeed not wearing a bra as attested by the faintly visible memories of mammarial movement. I adored those two white mounds. They were like Alps with two small huts perched at the crests, ready to offer succor to the lost. I followed their rise and fall as Mom repeatedly breathed life into the twin temples and tried to revive c***dhood memories of finding solace there. Why would it be so wrong to do so now?Halfway through the show, I raised the courage to reach for my drink, but completely forgot to peek up Mom's skirt and instead got caught looking down at her twin peaks."Be careful," Mom cautioned as I picked up my drink.I made sure there was no root beer on the lid that could spill on her blouse or legs. I sucked on the straw for the next fifteen minutes, frequently sneaking peeks at Mom's breasts and very exposed legs. During the commercials at the half hour, I leaned across Mom to put. "Matt's smile said it all. "Now it's my turn" he said and he began to wash Dave as thoroughly as his mate had washed him. The only problem came right at the end. The sensuousness of washing and being washed had crept up on the lads and by the time Matt had to attend to Dave's foreskin and cockhead, Dave was rock hard. Standing up, Matt grabbed the shower from its socket, turned the control to cold and directed the water onto Dave's dick. Dave gave a yelp of shock and called Matt a sly bastard but the trick had worked. The cock went soft as quickly as a burst balloon and Matt completed his task successfully.Towelling off, Dave showed Matt to his clean underwear drawer. (Already worn pairs, swaps etc lay in a heap beside the bed. ) Matt's eyes lit up at the sight of so many hot briefs. "Take your pick" Dave said, "we're the same waist size."Matt was like a k** in a candy shop and tried on several pairs, to the evident delight of Dave, who'd never before had an underwear modelling show.
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