Knowing that Ian was dressed, Mary didn't wait the full twenty minutes to go back downstairs. She wanted to tell her son her plan -- or most of it at any rate.

"Ian? Honey?" she called out in the general direction of the pool. "Can you come in a minute?"

"Sure, mum. Be right there."

Mary poured herself a cup of coffee, sitting at the kitchen table while she waited. He didn't take long.

"You wanted me?"

Little do you know just how much, Mary said to herself as she admired her son's body. She was feeling positively lascivious and shifted to ease the dull ache that was spreading through her pussy.

"Remember when you were little and we used to go on dates? Just you and I?"

Ian looked at his mother curiously. "Yeah. But I'm not little anymore, mom."

"I know you're not. But we did have a lot of fun if you recall."

Ian nodded and a slight smile crossed his face at the memory.

"Well... It's been ages since I've been on a proper date and I'd like very much if you would escort me to dinner tonight. Somewhere quiet -- and a little romantic."

"Mom!" Her son protested, but at the same time something tugged at his heartstrings. He knew that his mother didn't date because of him. That she thought dating would take away from their time together. It kind of felt funny, but he realized that she did everything for him and very little for herself. "Erm... Okay. We can do that." He smiled. Who knew -- it might even be fun.

"Great!" Mary jumped up from her chair and gave him a huge bearhug. "Who knows -- you might even have fun." She chuckled and slapped him on the butt. "Go get showered and dressed. C'mon. I'll race you upstairs and meet you back here in a half hour. Last one is a rotten egg!" Giddy with excitement, she raced her son up the stairs, rushing past him into her bathroom to get ready.

She'd bought a new dress just for this occasion. It was black and hugged every Rubenesque curve of her body, not leaving much for the imagination. Her full breasts strained against the material, the faintest hint of nipples dimpling the rippleless fabric.

"Not bad." Mary murmured, examining herself in the mirror. There was a feverish glow about her that did little to disguise her steadily growing anticipation of what was to come.

"Ian?" She called out, from the top of the stairs as she started down. "I'm ready if you are."

He was. Mary stood back and admired him. "Very nice. Very handsome."

Ian just stood there with his mouth open. Staring. "Wow," he finally said. "Just... wow!"

"You like?" She spun around to give him a better look.

"I like. You look... beautiful." He'd never seen her look so... maybe radiant was the word. Ian grinned, happy that he hadn't turned his mother down now that he saw how happy she was.

"Oh, honey. I bet you say that to all the girls," she chuckled. Truth was, she didn't care if he did or not -- as long as he said it to her. "Now let's get this show on the road."

Ian held out his arm and she slipped her hand through as they walked out the door toward the car.