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.

was OK on her right leg, but she held

said. She took a step, grimaced,

someone," I

said, "I'm

as she limped down the street. We were three miles from home. There was no way

mom into my arms. I held her up, like a baby, and started to walk us back home. Mom wasn't tiny, but she was light. I hadn't done all that upper body work planning to one day carry a woman three miles, but it

my mother

She was clearly embarrassed by what had happened. "I guess I tripped on

said, "I'm just glad

little knight," Mom said, remembering her old nickname for me. "Come

it any other way,"

We had to break a couple of times so I could rest. It had taken us less than an hour to get out but coming back

staring up at the blue sky. The day was warm. The air smelled like honeysuckle. The world was comfortingly quiet. "This

it's not," I

over and grabbed my hand, squeezing it

to my lips and kissed it. Chivalrous to the end. For a moment, I thought Mom would yell at me for doing something affectionate where she could see it. Where everyone could. But instead, she beamed 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 invisible barrier into my parents' private world. The room was

on her Queen-sized bed. Then 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

Google thought and put together 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

a shower. Then I

take a shower, too?" I asked, hoping for the chance to help

I knew that I'd gone too far. Again, that was the problem with hiding our relationship under a blanket, it was impossible to truly understand the shape of it. Instead, I had to guess and, occasionally, break the