The cups of her bra were transparent black lace and left the inner half of her breasts exposed. The shirt and bra propped her smallish tits up nicely and if she had any doubts of that, the appreciative looks of the boys were all the proof she needed.

At one point she'd gotten down on all fours to shove the plastic bins containing clothes she wouldn't be wearing until the winter beneath her bed to save closet space.

She had her head low and partway under the bed to see how much room she had and heard one of them whistle, and in a not so quiet whisper, tell his friend what a fine ass she had.

Rather than be offended, his remark had gotten her worked up. That was becoming a common occurrence today and she was beginning to enjoy it. What Emma also enjoyed was the several annoyed looks she'd seen Eric direct at them when he'd caught them gawking.

Normally Emma had no tolerance for women who cock teased, especially women her age that should be past those types of games. But she was getting a thrill out of both the attention she was getting, and Eric's reaction to it.

Thinking of Eric did dampen her mood somewhat. He didn't seem to be looking at her. He had confessed he thought she was attractive and told her how much he liked this look...why wasn't he paying attention to her?

Why did she want him to should be the real question.

His paying no heed to her showing off other than to roll his eyes a few times and once make the comment ‘really mom?' made her nervous.

Again it made her wonder if she'd imagined their lusty exchange upstairs.

Had she had some type of daydream? Eric made a joke he'd gone away afterwards, had she?

“We're pretty much all set, Ma'am."

Emma turned around, but remained standing on the chair, looking down at Earnest. Unlike the younger men, he had shown no real interest in her. No, that wasn't true, she had seen him looking at her oddly, his eyes on her chest.

It hadn't been with a look of desire or even scorn, the looks she'd been getting from her son, but more like concern. More than once in the time Ernest had been there moving small items and keeping an eye on the others, it seemed as if he were about to say something to her, but caught himself.

"Wow, that was quick." Emma went to put her hand on the wall to brace herself as she stepped down from the chair, but instead took Ernest's hand when he offered it to her,

“Thank you, nice to see chivalry isn't dead." She joked.

"I try to treat a lady like a lady," He replied as he steadied her while she got off the chair.

"Even when she's not acting like one."

“Excuse me?" She raised her eyebrows and made a show of looking offended even though she was guilty of what he was implying.

“But I imagine you're generally a lot more ladylike." He still had his large calloused hand on hers.

“ALL the women who lived here before were."

“What's that supposed to mean?" She pulled her hand from his, but more because the comment disturbed her rather than his touch.

Ernest looked away from her, muttering, ‘Just had to say something, didn't you?"

"Talking to me or yourself?" Emma prompted despite the fact she knew the answer. She wanted to keep him talking.

"Miss..."

“Emma.”