She was sure Joey wanted to talk bluntly with her, yet she couldn't. She needed more time. As days passed, she was slowly adjusting her dress, wearing more revealing clothing than ever before. They were always in good taste, yet sensual and teasing. She was hardly aware of this, but Joey was, most definitely.

Almost all her skirts and dresses were slitted up one side or the other now. A few were slit very high, and if she wasn't careful, a whole hip would be exposed, even the lace of her panties. She had one particular dress, designed on the lines of a Roman toga, that was silt to her waist. It draped over her shoulders and clung to the tips of her tits nicely. When she wore it, she always let her long, enticing thighs flash and tease.

There were changes coming over her, changes that surprised and delighted her. She was more relaxed, more comfortable, at ease with herself and her exposure. She became accustomed to her son looking at her, seeing the thrust of her tits, the flash of her legs. She no longer blushed when she caught his eyes on her body. Now she would shiver with pleasure, eyeing her son with flirty looks her mouth moist and pouting. Then, a few days after she had enlarged the hole in the bathroom wall, she wore a white toga dress without a body suit. Underneath it, her tits were naked, her nipples straining at it beautifully. She wore a pair of tiny, skimpy panties. The panties were only two triangular pieces of sheer lace, with elastic band about her waist. The dark color of her nipples showed through the thin whiteness of the dress, and when she swirled into the living room where Joey was watching television, her long legs flashing to her waist, she whirled in a circle. The two flaps of her toga-like dress lifted high, revealing the sweet shape of her compact ass, the tiny crotch of her panties.

Then she sat down, letting her skirt fall where it might.