Unspoken Pleasure by Erotica

Mom's Touch But Don't Look Policy:>Ep8

The next morning, we woke up for our morning run. The days were getting hotter, and more people were out on the streets with us. The world was slowly reawakening.

We'd gotten up to five miles a day and I was starting to feel really good. It was warm enough, too, where I was able to run without a shirt. I tried to convince Mom to go with just a sports bra, but she told me she didn't feel appropriate being exposed like that.

We were at our usual pace as we turned the corner down a quiet, tree-lined street. We were doing so well, I was starting to think about pushing it, maybe up to 7 miles. Mom usually trailed me when we ran, but as we turned, she caught up to my side.

She looked down at my bare chest. For a moment, I saw her eyes go wide. Then she fell back.

"Mom?" I turned around, thinking she'd just lost her pace. Instead, I found her sprawled in the middle of the street. "Mom!"

I raced back and knelt next to her. Mom was lying on the ground. She had a light scratch on her cheek. She looked at me, her blue eyes small and scared.

"I tripped," Mom said, "I'm OK." But her body belied her calm demeanor -- lying in the fetal position on the ground.

"Can you stand?" I asked.

"Definitely," Mom said. She started to get up, but when she put weight on her left leg, she tumbled back over again.

I rushed to be next to her.

"Knee?" I asked, worried. If her knee was out, we were calling an ambulance.

"Ankle," Mom said. Ok, maybe that wasn't so bad.

on her right leg, but

She took a step, grimaced, then took

someone," I

said, "I'm

limped down the street. We were three miles from home. There was

held her up, like a baby, and started to walk us back home. Mom wasn't tiny, but she was light. I

the street; my mother clutched

embarrassed by what had

just glad

knight," Mom said, remembering her old nickname

any other way," I

while carrying someone. We had to break a couple of times so I could rest. It had

collapsed on the front lawn. We lay on the grass, staring up at the blue sky. The day was warm. The air smelled like

it's not,"

reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing

at me. Eventually, we were able to get up and I carried Mom inside the house, up to her bedroom. Even as an adult, it felt strange being in Mom's space. Like I'd crossed an

I went downstairs to the fridge and threw together a bag of ice. When I came back, Mom was lying back, head propped up by the pillows. She was still in her running outfit: tight black yoga pants and a green tank top. Her ponytail was askew,

a little plan. Rest and ice, mostly, while checking for swelling. I knew that if Mom couldn't put weight on the ankle, she'd be going to the doctor, but I was hoping it was just a sprain and she'd

was sure my patient was OK, I went and took a shower. Then I made

shower, too?" I asked,

gone too far. Again, that was the problem with hiding our relationship under a blanket, it was impossible to truly understand