fucking my friends mom part 2

Hearing the accident, Mrs. Clark spun around to see what had happened. Seeing that it was just a bit of spilt milk, she began to walk towards the closet to retrieve the mop.

"No, Mrs. C., don't use that. Use this," Greg quickly replied holding up a dish towel he had conveniently placed on the table next to the milk.

Without even thinking about it, Mrs. Clark changed directions and walked over to the table to take the cloth from Greg's outstretched hands. If she hadn't had such a sleepless night last night, because her thoughts had been plagued with images from the stories and pictures, she probably would have thought it odd that Greg didn't clean up the mess himself.

She dropped the cloth on the spilt milk and was going to use her foot to move it around, but Greg spoke up again. "No, Mrs. C. You should get down on your hands and knees to clean it up. It's the only way to make sure you do a good job," he said with a touch of authority in his voice.

Responding as if she was in a fog, Mrs. Clark slowly dropped to her knees at Greg's feet and began to, hesitantly, clean up the mess. Greg felt energized, having Stacey's mom kneeling at his feet cleaning up after him. He knew he had to proceed carefully from here or else he would risk blowing it all.

As she continued to work, Greg began in a conversational tone of voice, "you know Mrs. C., I was reading somewhere that a proper and decent woman wears a blouse and a skirt. You are a proper and decent woman aren't you, Mrs. C.?" Greg asked, again staring at her intently.

Sensing his intent gaze, and confused about the strange feelings running rampant through her, as she knelt at his feet, Mrs. Clark began to color slightly at the cheeks and could not look him in the eyes. Her thoughts were jumbled and she had a difficult time formulating a response. When she realized he expected her to answer, she finally managed to mumble, "Yes....I guess so."

Sensing her confusion and weakness, Greg pressed the attack. "Well, if you are indeed a 'proper and decent woman', then shouldn't you also dress in that fashion?" he asked.

Head still bowed and turning a deeper red, Mrs. Clark stuttered, "well....I.....it's just...I....I guess so."

"Well alright then. It's settled. Next time I see you, you should be dressed that way," Greg replied amicably, sensing a win. "I think you got it all cleaned up now Mrs. C. You can get up now."

Flushed deep red, Mrs. Clark rose on unsteady legs and walked back over to the stove, to continue cooking breakfast. For the rest of the meal, Greg acted as if nothing had happened and talked about various topics like school, sports, and local events.

Once he had finished eating, he informed Mrs. Clark, "I'm going to head out to the school to shoot some hoops, but would like to drop by for supper, if that's alright with you?"

Having regained some of her composure, and feeling more at ease with the rest of the conversation she had with Greg, she readily replied, "certainly Greg. You know you are always welcome here."

"Thanks, Mrs. C. I gotta go now." Greg waved goodbye as he headed for the back door. As he stepped outside he took a deep breath to steady himself and prayed that the suggestion he had planted in her would take root and come to fruition later on.

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