The jersey came down to mid-thigh. It's color set off her hair beautifully. He loved that jersey: She looked so damn cute in it. Didn't she know what she did to him when she wore it?

He scrambled backward along the rug and into his room, closing the door just before she came out of the bathroom.

He locked it and collapsed back against it, shaking slightly. He heard her footsteps pass his door, then pause and come back. There was a gentle tap on the door.

"Jeff?"

Shit!

"Jeff?" She knocked again.

"Y…yeah?"

"Open the door, honey."

He took a deep breath and swung it open a foot or so, hiding his lower body and his bulging erection from her.

She looked up at him and smiled.

"What do you want for dinner?'

"Uh… ah… I don't care."

"You sure? Paige wants spaghetti again."

"That's okay."

"Okay then. Are you all right?"

"Yeah Mom, I'm fine." She nodded, then turned away. He followed her with his eyes as she went into her room and the closed the door.

He swung his door closed again and then took out his raging hard-on, holding it in his fist. He only had to squeeze once before it exploded, spraying white jism onto the wall.

He sat at the kitchen table, watching her work at the counter. She was still wearing just the football jersey, and he had a hard time concentrating on the little TV on the table as she moved around in front of him.

She turned off the stove under the spaghetti, and grabbed at the handle to lift it off. Jeff sprang up and moved over to the stove.

"I'll do that Mom." he offered.

"I can do it honey."

"No, it's okay." He grabbed up the heavy pot and walked it to the sink.

"Wait till I get the strainer." she said.