Chapter 12: Grace’s Curiosity and plicationsThe farmhouse kit, usually bustling with m activity, was quiet ie afternoon. Alice was out tending the furthest fields, and Kray had a rare lull in his t schedule, a wele respite after a string of back-to-back massages. Grace moved around the kit, preparing a simple supper, her movements graceful and effit even in her worn cotton dress.
Today, however, the worn cotton dress seemed… different. Or perhaps it was just Kray’s increasingly perverted perception. The nee, normally modestly high, seemed to dip a little lower than usual, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the soft curve of her colrbone and the shadowed valley between her breasts.
The fabric, thin and light in the lingering summer warmth of the kit, g ture, hinting at the gentle sway of her hips and the gentle swell of her curves with eaent. Kray tried to avert his gaze, fog on peeling potatoes, but his eyes kept drifting back to his mother, a strange mix of familial affe and… something else… stirring within him.
He had noticed Grace’s subtle g him throughout the day, a curious light in her usually gentle eyes. He knew word of his “pleasure healing” was swirling through Luma like wildfire. He could hear the hushed whispers even when ts arrived, the mix of curiosity and sdal in their voices. And Graaturally, was observant and deeply attuo the undercurrents of their small town.
“You’ve been busy tely, Dray,” Graented, her voice casual as she stirred the stew pot simmering over the fire. “Lots of folks ing to the farm.” She didn’t look at him directly, but he could feel her gaze lingering on him, assessing, curious.
“Just… a few,” Kray mumbled, avoiding her eyes, feeling a blush creeping up his neck. “Word seems to be spreading.”
Grace chuckled softly, a warm, knowing sound. “Spreading like wildfire, more like. Mrs. Gable practically shouts it from the rooftops, and Era… well, Era’s been singing your praises to half the vilge.” She finally turo face him, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “‘Pleasure healing,’ they’re calling it. Sounds rather… intriguing.”
Kray’s blush deepened. “It’s just… massage, Mama. Rexation. It helps with pain.” He tried to downpy the “pleasure” aspect, even to Grace, his own mother.
Grace raised an eyebroyful smirk tugging at her lips. “Rexation, eh? And they say it’s… particurly rexing. Pleasurable, even.” She emphasized the word “pleasurable” with a knowing tohat made Kray’s stomach ch with nervous excitement.
He stammered, struggling to find the right words. “Well, it’s… supposed to be soothing. The skill… it’s called… [Pleasure].” He finally admitted the he word tasting both forbidden and thrilling on his tongue, especially when spoken to his mother, who stood there, her dress ging to her curves, her eyes alight with pyful curiosity.
Grace leaned against the kit ter, crossing her arms, her gaze fixed on him, sharp a undeniably… pyful. “Pleasure, you say? Hmm. Sounds rather… mysterious. And a little… sdalous, if the whispers are to be believed.” She paused, letting the silence hang in the air, her eyes studying him ily.
“Tell me, Dray,” she said finally, her voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tohis ‘pleasure healing’ of yours… what exactly does it entail?” She tilted her head slightly, her dark hair casg over her shoulder, the movement drawing his gaze involuntarily to the gentle curve of her breast revealed by the slightly lower nee.
Kray’s heart pounded in his chest. This was it. The moment of truth. Grace wasn't just curious; she robing. And there was a definite undercurrent of… something else… in her voice, in her gaze. Something that wasn’t just maternal , but a hint of… perhaps… a more personal curiosity about this “pleasure” he was now dispensing.
He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. “It’s… hard to expin, Mama. It’s… massage, but… with a special energy. It’s… very rexing. It eases tension, relieves pain.” He still avoided the more explicit details, the moans, the blushes, the suggestive whispers of his ts.
Grace’s smirk widened, being more overtly pyful now. “Oh, I’m sure it’s very… rexing. But I’m a bit stiff myself today, Dray. All that weeding in the south field. My shoulders are quite tight.” She subtly shrugged her shoulders, as if demonstratiiffness, the movement causing the thin fabric of her dress to shift, emphasizing the gentle sway of her breasts beh.
And then, she dropped the pyful pretense, her gaze being direct, almost challenging. “Tell you what, Dray,” she said, her voiow ced with a clear, almost daring proposition. “Why don’t you… demonstrate this ‘pleasure healing’ of yours? Show me how it works. On me.”
Kray froze, his mind bnk for a moment, his breath catg in his throat. A demonstration? On Grace? His mother? The thought sent a jolt of both panid illicit excitement through him. Massaging Grace, in a “demonstration” of his pleasure skill? It was… intensely intimate, deeply taboo, and undeniably… arousing.
He stammered, struggling to find a polite refusal. “Mama, I… I don’t know if that’s… appropriate. It’s just… massage. You don’t need a demonstration. I just… give you a regur massage, like I always do.”
Grace chuckled again, stepping closer to him, her eyes fixed on his, her voice dropping to a spiratorial whisper. “Oh, but Dray, I’m not just asking for a regur massage. I want to uand this ‘pleasure healing’ everyoalking about. I want to see this… special energy of yours in a. And besides,” she added, her gaze flickering downwards, towards his hands, a suggestive warmth entering her voice, “who better to practi than your own mother? Someone who trusts you pletely?”
Her words hung in the air, den with unspoken implications, blurring the lines between maternal , pyful curiosity, and something undeniably more… sensual. Kray’s heart pounded against his ribs, his palms sweating, his mind a chaotic swirl of flig emotions. He was caught between his ingrained respect for his mother, his burgeoning pervert desires, and the undeniable pull of her intriguing, slightly dangerous, proposition.
He knew, deep down, that refusing Grace’s “demonstration” would be more suspicious, more awkward, than simply agreeing. And a part of him, a part of him that was increasingly drawn to the forbidden, to the sensual, to the undeniable pleasure of his skill, desperately wao agree.
“Alright, Mama,” he finally mao say, his voice barely a whisper, his cheeks burning. “I… I give you a… demonstration. Of… pleasure massage.”
A slow, satisfied smile spread across Grace’s face, a smile that was both maternal and something else, something that made Kray’s breath cat his throat. “Good boy, Dray,” she murmured, her voice softening even further, being almost… caressing. “Let’s see what this ‘pleasure healing’ is all about then, shall we?”
She led him towards the familiar stool, settling onto it with an almost expet air, her back preseo him, the thin cotton of her dress ging to her spihe subtle curves of her back tantalizingly visible. Kray stood behind her, his hands trembling slightly, his heart rag, his mind a whirlwind of anticipation, nervousness, and a growing sense of forbiddeement.
He focused on the [Pleasure] skill, the now-familiar tingling warmth flowing into his fiips. He hesitated for a moment, then slowly, hesitantly, pced his hands on Grace’s shoulders. The fabric of her dress was thin, almost translut in the warm light, and he could feel the heat radiating from her skin, the soft curves of her shoulders beh his fiips.
He began to massage, startiively, trag the tours of her shoulders, his touch lighter, more hesitant than usual. Grace remained silent for a moment, her breathing shallow, as if holding her breath. Then, a soft sigh escaped her lips, a sigh that was less about relief and more about… anticipation.
Enced, Kray’s touch became slightly more fident, his fingers kneading deeper into her shoulder muscles. He moved down her neck, trag the delicate curve of her nape, feeling the soft skih his fiips. Grace’s head lolled back slightly, her eyes fluttering closed, her breathing being more rapid, more shallow.
He moved his hands outwards, towards her shoulders again, and then, almost unsciously, his hands drifted lower, trag the curve of her shoulders downwards, towards the gentle swell of her breasts, barely cealed by the thin cotton of her dress. He hesitated for a fra of a sed, a flicker of panic mixed with an overwhelming surge of forbidden desire.
And then, he tinued. His fingers, guided by an almost irresistible impulse, brushed against the soft curve of her breast, just grazing the e, sending a jolt of electrisation through his own body. Grace gasped softly, a sharp intake of breath that was almost a moan.
He tinued, his touch being bolder, more deliberate. He cupped his hands gently over her breasts, feeling the soft fullhrough the thin fabric, the warmth radiating from her skin, the faint tremor of her breath. He began to massage, trag slow, circur motions over her breasts, feeling the subtle give of her flesh, the sensitive areoe hardening slightly beh his fiips.
Grace’s breathing became ragged, punctuated by soft, involuntary moans that escaped her lips. Her body shifted oool, subtly pressing back against his touch, seeking more, demanding more. Her head lolled back further, her neck arg slightly, exposing the delicate curve of her throat.
“Oh, Dray…” she whispered, her voice thick with breathlessness, “that… that feels… different.” Her words were barely audible, almost swallowed by her soft moans, but they resonated in Kray’s ears like thunder.
Different ihis wasn’t just massage. This was… something else. Something deeply sensual, deeply forbidden, deeply… perverted. He was massaging his mother’s breasts, elig moans of pleasure, expl the boundaries of their familial intima a way he had never dared to imagine before. And Grace… she was responding. Not with shoot with anger, but with… pleasure. And a hint of something else, something that mirrored his own flicted mix of thrill and transgression.
He tio massage, his own body trembling now, his heart pounding, his senses overwhelmed by the heat radiating from Grace, the soft sounds esg her lips, the intoxig st of her skin, the sheer, forbidden thrill of his as. The lines between healer and pervert, between son and… something else… were blurring rapidly, dissolving into a haze of forbidden pleasure and fusing, exhirating intimacy. And Kray, caught in the swirling vortex of his own desires and his mother’s ued, sensual response, found himself willingly, perhaps even eagerly, surrendering to the uncharted, deeply perverted path that y before him.
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Name : Kray(18)
Css : Healer
Level : 2 (0/20)
LP (Love Points) : 16+2
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Skills : [Pleasure : Lvl 2], [Kiss : Lvl 1], [Ecchi moments : Lvl 1]