The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Only Teasing

Tags: mc, mf, md, in

Synopsis: Cecil’s mother finds herself wearing less and less around the house. There’s nothing wrong with that, right? It’s only teasing.

Author’s note: This tale is a tribute to the magnificent works of JAPA, which are (unfortunately) no longer on the archive.

Chapter 1

A small thrill ran through me as I decided what I was going to wear that day.

The more mature part of me told me to wear the slacks. I was just going to be hanging around the house; they were smart, practical.

The obvious choice.

I dismissed that voice entirely, and chose the dress. It’s not like it was particularly revealing…at least, not unless you wore it without a bra.

I didn’t put a bra on. Panties, either.

Nothing wrong with that. After all…I was only teasing.

* * *

My son Cecil started getting headaches about six months ago. At first we thought it was a problem with his glasses, then his diet, then we were worried about stress…finally, we were referred to a specialist.

He couldn’t work out what it was, but he did find a drug that got rid of them entirely. I can’t tell you what a relief it was—ever since Cecil’s father left, he’s been the centre of my life, and seeing my baby boy in pain…well, it was almost as bad for me as it was for him.

Now, Cecil takes the pills twice a day and everything is back to normal.

He’s been on the drug for three months now, and it’s so lovely. Every time I see him, I can’t help but smile.

And every time he sees me, he smiles as well.

That’s what made me notice, actually. I was cleaning out the fridge, and I turned around to see Cecil watching me, an odd smile on his face.

“Hey boyo,” I said, standing up and turning to face him. For a second—just a second—his eyes flicked down to my cleavage.

Nothing odd about that, of course. He’s just a normal, healthy male, and…well, if I’m being honest, I have more than an average amount of cleavage to display.

What was odd was my reaction. Normally I’d just let it go, return to cleaning…but at the sight of my boy’s reaction to his mother’s breasts, I couldn’t resist pulling my shoulders back, giving him something to look at.

After all, I told myself. It’s harmless.

I’m only teasing.

To my delight, Cecil was unable to resist looking at the two perky (if I do say so myself) treats that I put on offer, and a huge grin spread across my face.

For the rest of the day, I was glowing. After all, I was only teasing. It’s not like I had lifted my shirt up and showed him my bra…or what was underneath.

Pushing your boobs out slightly? That’s totally harmless. Every woman does it.

I’m only 41, but it’s been a while since anyone paid attention to my body…especially a teenager like Cecil. It was nice. It was validating—it showed me that the hours I’d put in at the gym lately weren’t wasted, that taking care of my body paid off.

And, of course, it reminded me how much men like tits.

The next morning, making breakfast, I couldn’t resist teasing Cecil just a tiny bit more. His eyes were on me as soon as he entered the room, and—just as I had the previous day—I pulled my shoulders back and put the girls on display.

Again, his eyes drifted down to them immediately, and again that warm glow filled my whole body.

I’m only teasing, I reminded myself with a smile. It’s totally harmless—there’s nothing wrong with a teenage boy checking out a sexy woman.

Sexy woman. I liked that. Me, a sexy woman. I was a sexy woman.

I was a sexy woman, and there was nothing wrong with a bit of teasing.

That afternoon, when Cecil got back from school, I decided to take it a bit further. I’d gone through my entire wardrobe to find the top with the most cleavage, and changed into it just before my son returned. Then, once he joined me in the kitchen, I poured myself a huge glass of milk and started to gulp it down.

A small part of me was worried that milk was too obvious a choice, but as soon as Cecil’s eyes were on me, all my concerns faded away.

After all, I was only teasing.

Some of the milk spilled out the sides of the glass, dribbled down my face, and landed on my exposed bosom. I noticed Cecil’s eyes widen as the white liquid dripped onto my generous cleavage, and the warm glow grew.

I was a sexy woman. No, more than that—I was a hot bitch. I was a hot bitch, and I could tell that I was turning Cecil on.

Nothing wrong with that, I reminded myself. I’m only teasing.

Finishing the glass, I glanced down at my milky tits.

“Whoops!” I said with an uncharacteristic giggle. “What happened there?”

Cecil’s smile as I carefully dabbed at my boobs with a napkin kept me glowing all night long.

* * *

“Jesus, Mom,” Cecil said as he saw the outfit I’d picked out. “You look amazing.”

Blood rushed to my cheeks at his words, and I couldn’t resist doing a little spin. The dress had definitely been the right choice—my only complaint was that it was a little longer than I would have liked, ending at my knees. My legs are my second-best feature, and I didn’t feel like my current outfit did quite enough to show them off.

Of course, I suddenly realized as Cecil stared at me, I could go shopping. I could go shopping and buy some sexier clothes to wear around the house.

There’s nothing wrong with dressing sexy for my son. I’m a hot bitch, and it’s totally harmless.

Yes, I decided. I was going to go and buy something sexier for Cecil to see me in. After all, I was his mother—it wasn’t like anything could happen.

I was only teasing.