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TEASING MOTHER

About the Author

Stars peppered the night sky, as we stepped out. I was like a dog to my mother’s walk, my feet moving from the wooden patio flooring to the soft green of the back lawn.

“Make sure It’s warm for me, honey.” Mom said, her body draped in her satin robe. “I just need to go get something, and I’ll come right back down.”

“Sure.”

Our nightly habit consisted of late soaks in my father’s hot tub. After the divorce it became something for us to share. A way to take something that was his, and make it firmly ours without question.

Each night I’d receive the same text from my mother. A simple smile emoji, followed by a question mark, then a knock on my door. I couldn’t deny I loved it, but what son wouldn’t when their mother looked like mine?

She was a stark brunette, with deep, smoky black eyes. She looked more like a painting, her face dotted with light freckles along her cute button nose, her cheeks prominent and sharp, fighting for attention from her hour-glass frame, as a tight waist met broad hips, as the shapeliness of her ass rounded into a deep swell.

I pulled my robe off my shoulders, and climbed onto the hot-tubs side. For a brief moment, I could hear my father’s voice, a distant memory, chastising me for the way I got in, treating his tub the way he should have treated his wife.

Use the platform or you’ll damage the wood.

I chuckled at the thought.

This was mine.

Mom was mine...

I stretched my right foot into the water, and felt its heat stretch up my leg. I submerged myself fully, letting the water rise to my chest, hugging me like a wet blanket, as the chill of the night’s air met its warmth. I sat back and took a deep sigh. I waited for my mother’s arrival, the eagerness in my stomach only matched by the hardness of my erection.

“How is it!” Mom called from the glass door that separated the patio from the living room. She stepped onto the grass like a model in waiting, a pale image under the night sky, the moonlight bright against her skin, caressing the soft satin along her ample bust, her cleavage growing deeper with each step closer she took.

She disrobed in a similar fashion she had all summer. She rolled the silk off her back, letting her chest draw forward beneath a tiny strip of white fabric that barely covered her nipples. Her outfits had grown more revealing over time. She had gone from swimsuits, to bikinis, to whatever you could call her outfits now.

A part of me wanted to see her fully. To have my mother come to me naked, her body mine, her form mine, her figure wet and ready to be explored. This was enough though. For now, it had to be.

“It’s getting warmer...”

The blue light of the tub spread out from the bottom of the water. She moved through the darkness toward its subtle glow. The light pushed a blue hue across her form, as she slipped in, lowering herself from the platform beside me, as her breasts floated heavy against the water.

“Finally...” She sighed, wrestling her dark locs into a messy bun.” She splashed water at me, then smiled. “Eyes up here mister.”

“What? I wasn’t-”

“Sure...” She chuckled, then placed her fingers along her top. She tried to stretch the fabric over her breasts. “Is it too much?”

“Might be too little.”

She splashed me again, her chest jiggling with the smallest exertion. “That’s not funny.” She struggled to hide her smile; a sweet blush followed by deep dimpled cheeks. “Is it really that bad?”

She looked down and we both soaked in her image. The roundness of her breasts sat like two perfect globes, her complexion a soft milk, her top a light bit of string that nearly popped around her chest. She looked more like a pornstar, than a mother. More like a woman on the prowl, bursting with erotic guilt, ready to draw in the eyes of any men she could find.

“Depends who you ask?” The weight of my lust was undeniable. It was desperate, rolling through me in a strange heat, stretching my cock to a full mass at just the slightest look of the woman who raised me. I shifted my hips, and lowered deeper into the water. I struggled to keep her form off my mind, my fantasies daring to get the better of me.

“Swap with me.” Her eyes lingered over my shoulder, and up to a window behind me.

A knowing instinct told me what it was. “Him again?” I said, an ounce of distain in my tone. I turned back and saw our neighbour’s bedroom light on. Mr.P. The pervert. The neighbour who always had a reason to be looking out of his window at this time, observing my mother from the comfort of his home.