All characters in this story are over 18 years old.
------
I was back in my home-town over the vacation. I had not been home for a while, so I was extra happy to see my parents. My other siblings would also come, which made it even more fun. Our family had always had great fun together, especially when we stayed together over short periods of time, and we would go on small trips or do sport activities together.
Also this visit seemed to be full of activities for us to do. We would take walks, go to the beach, go out to eat...
One afternoon my mother asked me to go and buy some groceries for dinner. Apparently, she had food in the oven that she had to stay home to watch over.
I accepted, went away, and came back just short of an hour later. As I stepped through the door, I noticed it being very quiet and empty inside. I still could hear my mother in the kitchen.
I asked her where everyone had gone, and she explained that they had left for the neighboring town.
"At this hour?" I said.
"Yes, they said they would spend the night. So it's gonna be just you and me for dinner."
I was perplexed and a bit disappointed that I had not been asked to come. But, I did not want to make my mother think I was upset about being left alone with her, so I did not protest any further, and just gave her a surprised look.
"But it'll be fun here too!" She said, trying to lighten up my mood.
"Of course it will!" I answered, smiling at her.
The dinner was great. It was nice to be able to spend some alone-time with her, where we could speak openly to one another. As we ate, we spoke about everything that was going on in our lives. We joked with each other, and something I said made her laugh, causing her to drop some food on her blouse.
"Oh shit, " she said, still laughing.
"I'm sorry, mom," I said.
She did not answer, but instead started to open the buttons of the blouse, exposing her upper chest. Was she going to take it off?
My question was soon answered, as she continued to open the buttons. I could see her bra, and then her belly. She opened the last button, and put the shirt on a chair to her side. She did have nice breasts, especially for a woman her age. Although her bra was on, I could tell that she had natural, mid-size breasts that did not seem to have been much affected by gravity.
She saw me looking at them. I blushed, and she must have noticed, because she said:
"What? It's not like you've never seen me naked before."
That was definitely not an exaggeration. I had seen her naked more times than I could count. But that was in more natural contexts, I told myself, not at the table, in the middle of a dinner.
I did not say anything, yet she said, "Fine," and went away from the table, only to return a brief moment later with a large, white t-shirt on. I could see her nipples through the t-shirt. Did she take off her bra?
I could say I did not think about my mother's breasts more during that dinner, but that would be a lie. In fact, her nipples poking through the fabric of the oversized t-shirt made it hard to keep my mind on any topic we were discussing. I do not know if I looked more at her breasts or her face at the remainder of that dinner.
My mother was not a nudist by any means, but she was not afraid to be naked around me.
When I lived back home, my mother and I even took baths together. This had been somewhat of a mother-son activity, as we never bathed with other family members around, or even in the house. Almost every time we were alone, she wanted to draw us a bath. I almost always agreed, partly because I wanted to make her happy, partly because I enjoyed it.
I have to admit: It was a very exciting and fascinating experience to see my mother naked in the bath, and I imagined her seeing me in a similar way.
It always felt a bit romantic to go into the bathtub with her. We had the bathroom light switched off and some candles lit, with some relaxing background music. We would put bubbles in the bath to make it feel more special.
We did not speak about it much to anyone else in the family, and the fact that it felt like our own, secret miniature spa made the whole experience even more exciting.
It had been an important bonding time for us. I was always very shy with girls, so it was great to be able to be so relaxed around my mother. I had no idea how to start a conversation with a girl my own age, but with my mother everything was so easy. Sometimes we spoke about the day or everyday things, sometimes we sat in silence just taking in the atmosphere. It was always great just sitting and watching her, and it felt like she enjoyed it too.
We did not have any particular seating; our sides switched from time to time, but the usual position was the same. We would sit on opposite ends of the bathtub, facing each other. Sometimes my mother's legs would be on the sides and mine in the middle, sometimes the other way around. It was not a huge tub by any means, so our legs still had to be half-way folded up for us both to fit, and it also caused our chests to be out of the water most of the time. I remember this very well, as that would place her nipples just above the surface.
It really was a beautiful experience, and her wet skin and soft breasts looked wonderful, especially in that cozy, dim light.
I never deliberately touched her breasts, but sometimes I or she would reach for something, and my arm would brush against it. Everytime it happened, I would feel a small jolt of excitement run through my body. She did not seem to notice, or at least not mind, that her son had been in physical contact with her breast. Neither did she seem to mind my eyes exploring them. She never did anything to try to hide them from me, or tell me to look away. And it must have been very obvious that I took interest in my mother's breasts, as I almost constantly glanced at them when we were in the bath together. In retrospect, I appreciate that she did not make me feel guilty for being curious about her body. I was also very curious to know what it was like to hold her breast in my hand. I imagined it would feel soft, warm and smooth.
As I sat across from her at the dinner table, staring at her nipples through the fabric, that familiar feeling of excitement and curiosity crept back at me. I now of course had much more experience with girls my age, but somehow those experiences did not seem to have quenched the curiosity about my own mothers body.
After dinner, we decided on watching a movie. A movie about some baseball guy was on. We watched for about half an hour, but soon agreed that the movie was not worth spending time on.
"What do you want to do instead?" she turned to me and said, "Let's do something fun together,"
"Sure," I said, "Like what?"
"Maybe you want to take a bath?" She said, in a voice as if she was joking. However, I was fairly certain she was not, based on the way she waited for a response.
"You want to take a bath?" I asked back at her.
"Okay, that would be nice," she responded to my question, as if I were the one having suggested it, and turned off the TV. "I'll go prepare."
She went off to her bedroom, while I went and got the candles that I assumed she wanted for our bath. It was going to be as romantic as our baths always had been.
I lit the candles in the bathroom and switched off the lights. I turned on the hot water in the tub and added some bath foam. I took off all my clothes except my underwear, and began searching for a playlist with relaxing music. Just as I found one and pressed play, my mother walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She had a bathrobe on, and smiled when she saw the preparations. "What do you think?" I asked her.
"Just like we used to," she responded, looking dearly into my eyes.
She turned her back to me, opened her robe, and let it fall to the ground. I looked at her curves, from her shoulders, to her ass, to her legs. She had a beautiful body shape; she always had.
As she turned towards the bath, I could see her sideways. She leaned forward to feel the water with her hand, and I saw my mother's wonderful breasts sway as she touched the surface. The familiar urge to feel the weight of her breast in my hand came back upon me.
Before she got in the bath, she turned towards me, exposing her full-frontal nude body to me. I looked at my mother's tits. I looked at her vagina, covered by hair.
Oh my god, I thought to myself. I can see my mothers bush. The thought made me excited; it made me aroused.
