Her fingers engulfed me as she began a hand job on me, much to my enjoyment. She manipulated me to the edge of release and pulled me back, time after ...ime. All the time she was watching me intently."So, why haven't you told me how you want to get off?" she asked as her hands skillfully continued to please me. "Because I don't know," I honestly admitted. She never broke her rhythm as she continued to massage my cramped crotch muscle with one hand as her other hand reached for something at the. I squeezed Mom's breast, sending a signal that this was no accident. Turning to the last two pages of notes, I dropped my hand below the keyboard to rest it on Mom's thigh. As Mom played, pointedly staring at the notes, I slipped my hand under the dull, gray dress to the greet the excitement of the warm flesh underneath. Mom closed her legs but when I whispered in her ear that she was playing so well that I was sure the recital would be a huge success, she relaxed and they opened again, enough. At dinner I told her that when we got home she would stand in front of me and take off the dress and bra which would leave her in her high heels, suspenders and stockings and nothing else. She would then pull and pinch her nipples until they were long and hard. Then she would come forward to me spread her legs and I would finger her and rub her clit. When I was finished she was to kneel in front of me ,slip a vibrator in her pussy and rest it on the floor while she sucked my dick. She would. She was wearing shiny black leggings with an obvious camel toe. Her snatch had totalled gobbled up the crotch of her pants. She had on black patent leather heels. Her blouse was low cut, it wrapped over itself. It hung below her waist, hiding the fun curves, but left a fun surprise for the imagination. She wore no bra which was just silly. Her tits were completely bouncing all around."What are we doing tonight?" I asked as she approached me. She grabbed a hand and cuffed it. She said.