Finally, my mom stopped walking.

I felt the constant pressure lessen dramatically as she sat down.  She even went so far as to apparently cross her left leg--and me with it--over her right.  The result was that my mom was now casually swinging her left foot back and forth.

The shoe was still tightly bound around her foot, as her foot was likely swollen from the walking.  However, the lessened pressure allowed me to breathe easier, and my lungs could now inhale fully, despite my body still being trapped in place.  More oxygen was making its way around her sole, and though I was tipped downwards and gently dipped up-and-down with her movements, I was happy for the break.

The situation also alloted more sound into the shoe.  In the distance, I could hear a female voice speaking from a microphone, and at times people around my mom would laugh or clap, giving the impression of some sort of presentation that my mom was watching.  She too laughed from time to time, shaking my body with her foot. 

As I rocked up and down, a new predicament surfaced.  Due to the sweat accumulating on my back, I was stuck to the cloth sole, and so, ever so slightly, my mom's skin was rubbing my penis back and forth.  Though unable to move any part of my body, the pressure had let off just enough to create a friction between her hot sole and my now erect penis.

To make matters worse, her own foot had started to lightly perspire--an amount so trivial she likely would not have noticed it, even with her shoe off.  But, from my tiny vantage point, the miniscule sheen of sweat on her sole was becoming more and more evident, and was acting like a lubricant for the inadvertant "foot job" she was giving me.

I closed my eyes tightly and tried to think of other, less sexual situations.  School work.  Bills.  Job ads.  But, nothing worked.  No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't fight the pleasure I felt from having my mom rub her foot on my penis.  Both humiliated and disgusted, I was pinned under her foot and had no choice but to endure the continuing pleasure. 

The last thing I wanted was to ejaculate on her skin.  I couldn't imagine a more awkward problem.  How would she feel about it? Would it disgust her too? However, such a result might get her attention--certainly, a sudden "spray" of liquid in her shoe would be enough to get her attention.

And so, I remained divided--all the while, I knew I was on the verge of bursting, no matter my final choice. 

My mom's foot grew hotter, and her light perspiration was beginning to coat my entire body, save for the areas touching her shoe's sole.  Even more, a light, salty taste began to form inside my mouth, and I realized that I was tasting some of her sweat.  I couldn't close my mouth, for risk of suffocating in the increasingly stuffy atmosphere, and so I allowed it to run past my lips, and did my best to swallow very little of it.

I made my decision.