A Mothers Word

The first time I remember seeing my mum naked was when I was 18 years old. Even at that age it had an effect on me. I didn't really understand the significance of a 'hard-on'. I just knew that it felt kind of nice when you, well...had one!

One day when I came home from school I was absolutely desperate for a piss. You know how it is when you're younger - you always hold on longer than you should because playing with your friends is more important and you're always worried you are going to miss something. I ran straight up the stairs and into the bathroom, not expecting Mum to be standing in the buff drying off. My gaze went straight to the dark patch of hair between her legs. She looked startled and immediately pulled the towel around her middle, but I'd already copped a good eyeful and now her breasts were exposed and shiny with water.

This was my first real good look at a naked woman and it had a very arousing and lasting affect on me. After all, she would still have been only 28 at the time and in pretty good shape.

Mum must have been embarrassed by my staring because she sounded irritated and asked me to go out. I explained how badly I needed to use the loo and was going to wet myself if I didn't do it right now.

"Hurry up then, she snapped, and turned her back to me.

I had my Arsenal kit on and had to pull my shorts down to free my penis which had suddenly become quite stiff. I couldn't help sneaking a look over my shoulder. I was fascinated at seeing my mother like this - a lady with no clothes on. I'd only heard stories from my friends at school.

Well, I tried to piss, but it was fully hard now and awkward. I couldn't get started. Mum got impatient. "What's the matter, for goodness sake?"

I felt too shy to tell her the real problem, so I leaned forward and with a supreme effort managed to start peeing. Unfortunately the angle was wrong and I splashed over the seat because I couldn't aim it properly. She told me off for being careless and said to come back to clear up after she'd finished drying.

Even now, eight years on, the image of my mother standing in the bath naked and the impression it made on me is still deeply embedded in my mind. I've had plenty of girlfriends, but I still have that same fascination for my mum. I've often imagined what it would be like to touch her in a way that would be considered socially unacceptable. The thought seemed to excite me.

Whenever I saw her dress up to go out, or for having people round for dinner or whatever, I could not help admiring her. She was so attractive, and sexy. Especially in clothes that showed off her figure. I would get a terrible urge about her and it was starting to screw me up with guilt. I knew this wasn't natural, not a normal love for one's mother. I began to lose sleep over it. My fantasies would more often than not revolve around her.

She had had me at a young age so now at 36 years old she still had a pretty good figure. It was shortly after my 18th birthday that something and nothing happened -- if you get my drift.

I had managed to get a job driving a van for a courier company, delivering items for a catalogue firm. One day she asked if she could come along for the ride. It was a nice sunny day and she had no plans and said it would be nice to get out the house for the day. I had no problem with that. The firm wouldn't have to know.

"Sure," I said, "Let's go."

She looked lovely, all summery in her lightweight black cotton frock, pleated and flowing, and her simple white cheesecloth blouse unbuttoned enough to show a bit of cleavage, and knotted at the bottom so that you could see her tanned flat tummy.

As the morning wore on and the day warmed up Mum put on her sunglasses. It made her look glamorous, like a film star, or Hollywood wife. She seemed to be quite happy watching the world go by. By eleven o' clock I'd already made over a dozen drops and I was thinking that soon we'd better stop for a break.

Mum stretched out on the seat and yawned. I watched her blouse tighten around her bust. "I think I'll shut my eyes for five minutes," she said. "This sun is so relaxing." She kicked off her sneakers and put her feet up on the dashboard. Her frock fell back. It was quite innocent really, but she was showing a nice expanse of thigh and from my position I could also see a white flash of underwear. My penis immediately responded in the time-honoured tradition.

I had to check myself, "this is your mother, Jason -- behave!"

Mum seemed to sense I was ogling her and suddenly she was peering over the tops of her sunglasses. I don't know -- a woman's intuition I suppose. "What's the matter?" she said. "Haven't you seen a pair of legs before?"

It was then she realised that it wasn't just her legs that was showing. "Oops, sorry! I hadn't realised... There," she said smoothing her skirt back down and tucking it safely between her knees. "Is that more 'ladylike' for you?" She suddenly looked out through the windscreen, horror on her face. "Jason, WATCH OUT!"

I suddenly came out of my trance and looked back at the road. We were almost into the back of a lorry which had slowed up drastically on a hill. I hit the brakes hard. There was a squeal of rubber. Just in time. It was okay. We dropped back.

"Jesus!" I said, catching my breath. "That was close -- sorry!" I could feel the colour coming to my cheeks. Or was it draining?

"I think you'd better keep your eyes on the road from now on, darling!"

"It's okay, Mum. It doesn't bother me," I said, referring to her legs being on show. But actually, it did bother me, more than I care to admit.

"Well, I'm not tired of living even if you are," she said. "Just be careful."

After about five more minutes, when we'd both sufficiently recovered from our 'wake-up' call and were beginning to feel relaxed again. I said:

"You've got pretty good legs though, Mum. Really! I mean, for a woman your age."

"What do you mean, a woman my age?"

"Well, you know...you're no spring chicken, but you put girls half your age in the shade."

"Well, I suppose it's a compliment -- backhanded, but a compliment nevertheless."

"Straight up! I mean it, Mum."

"Well, that's sweet of you - thanks. I wish your father would say nice things and notice me more. He never says anything nice."

"Must be blind! And mad. Men, eh?"

"Yeah, too true!"

"I tell you, if you weren't my mum, I'd..."

"You'd what, dear?"

"Nothing."

I couldn't believe what I'd just said. My face was in full bloom now. Why couldn't I just keep my big mouth shut for a change?

"Come on, what were you about say?"

"Forget it, I was just being...Oh, it's not important."

I could see her out the corner of my eye, giving me one of her looks over the glasses. I drove on in silence, trying to concentrate on the job in hand, but I was aware of a certain tension now between us, not unpleasant, but unsettling nevertheless. Mum thankfully let the subject drop, closed her eyes again and appeared to doze off. Her frock began to slip back again.

I wondered if I'd overstepped the mark and embarrassed her. Perhaps she knew that by pursuing that thoughtless remark I would be embarrassed. Maybe she'd sensed that my compliments weren't actually all that innocent. Mothers can be very perceptive that way.

After driving a further half-hour in silence, I suggested that maybe we should pull into the next 'Services' for some refreshment.

"Yes, I could murder a cup of tea," she said. We got a couple of sandwiches and a pot of tea and sat down. That's when Mum said:

"Right, Jason... A few home truths... I want to put the record straight."

She poured the tea and smiled at me, a mumsy, all-knowing smile. The kind that told you, listen up, this is your mother speaking. In other words - normal service was being resumed.

"You see, I know what it is with you. I've seen the way you look at me. I know it's not how it should be, but to be honest I've rather enjoyed it, the attention and everything. I'm actually very flattered. That sort of thing is great for a woman, a mother -- even from her son..."

I unwrapped a ham sandwich and looked at it. I had suddenly lost my appetite. I didn't know whether she was waiting to see if I was going to say anything. I didn't. She continued:

"The only trouble is, I don't think I could handle it. I don't think we could."

She brought the cup to her lips. I looked into her eyes briefly, still fingering my sandwich

"I'm sorry if you feel I've mislead you. I can't say I haven't thought about the possibility of us... you know... having a fling -- if I can put it like that. In fact it's caused me to do a lot of soul-searching. I'm sorry darling, it's not to be."

I blinked against a tear and looked away, Motorway traffic snarled angrily past the window.

"I just want to be your mother. This idea, this vain hope that somehow we could take this further -- that we become lovers - it's ridiculous when you think about it."

I sighed heavily and gulped my tea. A mother certainly knows how to put a fire out when she has to. My hands were trembling. My eyes felt heavy with tears.

"It's the reason I wanted to come with you today. To say --"

"Mum, don't! Just leave it..."

I didn't say anything more, I didn't have to. In fact we ate and drank in silence from then on. Mum glanced at me occasionally, but I couldn't meet her eyes. It was a quiet drive home too. It had been a close call -- for both of us. But we were both still intact, and I guess, relieved. I still couldn't help feeling let down. I'd been made to face my demons, but I don't know that I'd actually defeated them. Mum would continue to be just mum for the time being, and me, for my sins - a normal son.

But I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't want it any other way. How long would I be able to keep playing my normal family role?

Sometimes you just have to concede to a higher power, even if it is just a temporary blip in your master plan. I would let her think it was all okay now, that she had straightened me out. But only for the statutory cooling off period.

Then it would be game on again. I would wear her down until sooner or later she gave in. A mother might think she knows best, but there has to be some exceptions in life.