"Be sure to wash your back," Mom said as I headed to the bathroom for a shower. "I'll wash it for you if you like."
How was that going to work, I thought. Is she going to get in the shower with me?
"I won't look," she said. "You're a grown man now. Don't worry."
Yeah, right. Then why does she need to wash me? And how will she soap down my back without looking, anyway? What if her hands went the wrong way? Is she going to be in there naked with me? I wanted to say yes so bad it hurt. But was this real?
"Go ahead and get in, I'll be there in a minute." she gestured toward the shower door.
I still don't know why, but I said, "Ok."
The water poured over me as I stood there, nervous. I was just finishing high school. Never had a girlfriend, never been kissed. It's true that I thought about girls all the time, my sheets were wet every night with my cum. It wasn't just school girls I fantasized about either. Many nights I thought about Mom. How she'd bend over to say goodnight, almost showing me her breasts. How she had sat on my bed next to me, her hand around my waste, touching my thigh and almost stroking my ass. And I'd masturbated countless times thinking of having sex with her.
But this was different.
I figured she'd only see my butt, it couldn't be so bad. And, what if...?
The shower curtain slid open. I heard her feet land on the wet floor behind me. "Here's a washcloth, honey," she said, handing it to me.
I held it under the spray. She reached past me to grab the soap from the dish. The quick glimpse I caught told me she was naked. A shiver went up my spine, and I started to get erect. I held the washcloth behind me, and she took it.
Next I felt her hand on my shoulder. The slight roughness of the cloth and the cleansing feel of the soap felt good, but there was something strange in the way she moved her hand. Slow, gentle, like she wanted it to last a long time. I stayed still and let her do it, a gnawing feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.
Slowly her strokes moved down, to the middle of my back, then lower. I wondered if she would wash more of me than she said she would. Part of me hoped so. Mom's hand then gently scrubbed up my right side, and then she touched my chest. "Can I keep going?" she said.
"Yes," I said, my head still swimming in uncertainty. She moved her hand down over my body, and reached my hips, then my ass.
"You should clean really well down here," she said. Her strokes felt more like loving caresses than scrubbing, and I felt sure this was going somewhere very wild. She continued, "You should let me wash you more often. Will you do that?"
I was terrified of her seeing my erection, but at the same time I wanted badly to show it to her. "Yes," I said. "why not?"
Then I felt both of Mom's hands stroking my hips, slowly moving forward toward my cock. "Will you let me wash here?" she said. "I'll bet you're really dirty down there."
My breathing got heavy, and I felt something against my back. It was Mom's breasts. Her soapy hands reached around between my legs and she started to stroke below my balls. Her fingers probed my sacs, then with her left hand touching one ball, her right hand grabbed my erection and moved slowly up toward the tip. "You have to keep this clean, honey," she said. Her touch was exciting. It was so wrong, but I was so starved for sex and I'd dreamed about Mom for so long I didn't care - she seemed to want this too, so who was I to say no?
Her hands let go of me, and in reaction, I turned around to see why. Now, I didn't give a thought to her seeing my erection. She stood there, her naked body inches from me. The blonde hair, green eyes just like mine, her youthful face that didn't look forty-something at all. And her body. She had modestly sized, but beautifully shaped tits, small dark nipples, which stood hard before me. Her hips were voluptuously curved, the focal point being a dark bush hiding the place I came out of. Mom was sexy, and I wanted her.
She handed me the washcloth and the soap. "Your turn," she said.
I started with her shoulders. She raised her arms and I followed down her side, and slowly, nervously moved my hand toward her breast.
She took the washcloth away. "You don't need that," she said.
I was shaking as I stroked her breast. It was soft, yet firm, and I wanted so bad to feel it in my mouth, to suck it. I stroked her other breast the same way, pausing to feel the hardness of her nipple.
Mom's eyes closed and she took in a deep breath.
I caressed her belly, then ran both hands along her hips, drinking in the electrical charge I felt being there with her. And then I ran one hand toward her bush. The hair felt just like mine. Her legs parted slightly, and I reached lower. Feeling heat, I started to pull away but she grabbed my hand and pressed it into her vulva.
"Like this," she said, moving my hand in a slow, small swirl. Her eyes closed again and her head tilted back a little. And I felt her hand on my erection, squeezing hard. I didn't want to cum yet, and pulled away.
She seemed to have the same thought. She picked up the soap, put it in my hand, and said, "Here, wash my back."
I waited for Mom to turn around, but she didn't. I reached around her waist and began stroking the small of her back, our bodies moving close. In a full embrace, I stroked her back. As she breathed, her breasts heaved against my chest, my erection firmly planted against Mom's belly. Her arms were around my neck, and I felt her breath in my ear. I moved both hands down to slowly stroke her ass. I loved the smooth, round feel of it. I thought about all the times I'd looked at Mom's ass and how it seemed so sexy, and now it was mine. I squeezed it.
