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Satin SexHe was pouring two glasses of wine when she called to him. His mother, spending the weekend with himnear the fifth anniversary of his father’s death. They were leaving soon for an evening at one of the fewremaining jazz clubs in the city, and he was thinking that a quick bit of Pinot Grigio might get them feelingmellow sooner.”Could you help me with this zipper, Dave. It’s on the back of my blouse and seems stuck.”He was recorking the wine, and didn’t turn for a moment. When he did she was just a couple steps away.He started. She laughed and asked if she had startled him.”I guess,” he replied.But that wasn’t it. It was the blouse. And it was the skirt. Both were made of extremely soft and shinysatin charmeuse, of the kind normally found in the finest lingerie. And he would know. He had a fetish forsilk and satin. He had been that way even before he knew what sexual feelings were. For him, sex andsatin were one whole thing, each a part of his basic needs. It was as if she had appeared nude tosomeone without the fetish. And she was his mother.”Do you think the satin is too much? Some people seem to think it’s a bit tacky outside a wedding or aformal ball, but I like it. Especially for a jazz club. It’s just got a certain ‘eff you’ air about it, don’t youthink?”He couldn’t think. His mother was in her late 40’s, but she was slim and very fit. He was already an adultwhen she had gotten the very well done breast implants just a year before his father died. At times whenhis thoughts were roaming freely, it had occurred to him that it was a pity that his father had gotten ill sosoon after they were placed. They had transformed her always nicely full, but getting slightly too round,breasts into the taut, pointed fullness of a much younger woman. He samsun escort was mesmerized by them now. Theblouse, which he was right then zipping up, had a high neck at the front. From this, a sheet of smooth,shining fabric spread from puckered waves at the neck, to smoothly d**** across her revealinglyoutlined, highly textured, puffy aureolas, and long hard nipples. Her nipples swung and danced inside thesilky fabric as she turned to face him again.”I feel like dancing. Will you dance with me at the club tonight? If you’re not afraid of being seen with anolder lady,” she laughed.He wasn’t afraid of being seen with an older lady. But he’d seen her dance. Even at a place withmellower, slower music, there was always an air of the “hot girl in front of the stage trying to get laid bythe guitarist” to her movement. And in a revealing satin blouse and swirling satin skirt? God help them ifthey played anything even resembling swing jazz, and got those eye-catching breasts started on astruggle to escape through the flimsy silken walls that imprisoned them.No, he wasn’t afraid of being seem dancing with an older woman, he was afraid of having to endure thewatching eyes of everyone in the club, and they would definitely be watching her, while his pants lostthe ability to disguise a growing erection. He knew that her being his mother wouldn’t help him a bit inthat regard.The satin itself was a sexual being to him. People didn’t understand that fetishists usually had a perfectlynormal dose of appreciation for the eroticism of the naked body. A perfectly normal level of excitementduring a nice blow job. Not to mention the pleasure of sliding an erect cock into an excited woman anddancing inside her. But the satin was an equal thing. The teasing and sensations escort samsun of his naked bodydressing and moving in satin clothes, and between satin sheets, was equally, if not more, eroticallyfulfilling. Satin on a woman was like a threesome for him. The satin would seduce him, even if the personinside it happened to be his mother.”Well, it’s not that at all,” he stammered helplessly, “It’s…it’s just… almost too attractive, if you know…””I think we both do,” she interrupted, “Dave, while you were out this afternoon I found a key lying behinda chair in the living room. I wondered what it might be for, and thought I’d just try it in the door of thespare bedroom you keep locked. Because, like you said, you keep all your important papers and yourfather’s gun collection in there.”He felt a flush of heat climbing his face. He could almost see the redness himself. The spare bedroom.The secure room. His satin room. The walk-in closet full of satin clothes and lingerie. The round bed inthe middle of the room, d****d in satin sheets. The mirrored walls and ceiling.His mouth felt like it should say something, but his brain had nothing on offer to send. The chokngsilence was broken by his mother.”Dave, I know what a satin fetish is. Your father and I shared one. It’s not very common in women, butwe do exist. I suppose genetically you didn’t have much chance to avoid it. And I’m glad of that, becauseI know how much pleasure it can bring. I miss your father that way. We had an amazing sexualrelationship built around, or should I say, experienced through, our passion for satin sex. What I’m goingto say now may shock you, but we never raised you to follow society’s norms, to hold its religioussuperstitions, or to respect its demonization of a samsun escort bayan physical reality we all share, the love of a sexual touch.I’ve known you your whole life, and I knew you were a satin fetish from the time you were a c***d. Youweren’t as stealthy as you imagined, and I smile inside at the number of times I had to have youradolescent precum dry-cleaned out of my silk blouses.”Dave made another attempt at speech, but she shushed him,”Be quiet, and listen. I see the way you look at me when I wear satin. Why do you think I dressed thisway tonight and threatened to dance? It’s time we shared what we both really crave, the satin touch ofsomeone who understands our needs. Our lusts. Someone who shares a shameless bond with us. Thisisn’t 30,000 B.C., Dave. We’re not mating. We don’t need to worry about spawning a village of inbredbabies. We can just love each other and please each other and comfort each other. I miss your father,and I miss satinsex with a man who knows how to please me. You’ve probably never had sex with awoman who really has a satin fetish. I know you can buy an imitation, and probably have. If you payenough for a satin escort, it’s a pretty good imitation. But I want you to know the joy, the shameless lust,of satinfucking a woman who has a fetish too. A woman whose body gets aroused by the look and thefeel of satin d****d around her satinman’s cock. I want you to fuck me, Dave. I want to tease your satinhardened cock until you ache to stroke it inside me.”He had no words, but he didn’t need them. She knew his passion better than he knew it himself.”Now don’t even try to get your thoughts or words together right now. Just take me to your satinbedroom, let me dress you in satin too, and lets explore our bodies and our fetish together.”So they did.Claire was already dressed in satin. In less than a minute from her proposition, Dave’s naked cock wassliding into his satin-lined fuckpants for what promised to be the satin session of his life…….To be continued…

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