A Mother's Love

"So Harry what do you think?" Sheila asked, cocking both hands suggestively on her hips. She was wearing a matching bikini set, which left little to the imagination. She was practically falling out of her top, so heavy and full were her two breasts. The high riding bikini bottom showed off the dimples on her butt while draft tufts of pubic hair protruded from the sides. She had yet to be waxed. Harry was speechless.

"Is it that bad?" she inquired, standing before the full length mirror in the fitting room stall. "It's too young. Not age appropriate, right?"

Harry, mouth agape, shook his head. His mother looked ravishing. Age had treated her kindly. In fact, she seemed to blossom in middle age. The extra weight she had put on suited her and accentuated her curves. Her face that had always been pretty remained so, with the exception of a few crow's feet around her eyes which Harry didn't mind and in fact found enticing. She was full-bodied and unapologetic about her weight because, unlike other women, she carried it well. Most of it had gone to her breasts, thighs and ass, which gave her an hour glass figure to die for. As a young woman, she had been fairly flat chested, slim and narrow hipped; but now she was downright buxom.

"No," Harry said breathless. "You look great. Any woman would be happy to fill a bathing suit as well as you do."

Sheila titled her head to the side and regarded her only son. "Ahhhh," she said. "You're sweet, but I don't believe you. You're too nice. I mean, how many people want to see an old broad like me in such a skimpy suit?"

"You'd be surprised," Harry said.

Sheila threw him a sidelong glance. "Really? Like who?"

Harry stammered. "I don't know. All kinds of guys."

Sheila smirked and left it at that. "Besides," she added, examining herself in the mirror, "the bottom keeps riding up my butt."

"So?" Harry said.

"So...everyone will see how fat ass your mother is."

"Mom, don't say that. It isn't fat. You have a lovely ass." Harry couldn't believe what he was saying. He had just complimented his mother's ass.

Sheila let his off color remark slide and said, "You know what, maybe you're right. I'll keep it."

"Great," Harry said, grinning from ear to ear.

"But what about you, mister?" she said. "We still haven't picked out a bathing suit for you."

Harry said he didn't need one; he still had his one from last year.

"You're not getting off the hook that easily. Here, try these on," she said, handing him a pair of board shorts she had picked out in the store earlier.

"Here? In front of you?" he said.

"Where else? I need to see how it fits you."

"I'd rather not," he said.

"Harold Joseph Pickens, you're going to do as I say and you're going to try on these shorts."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry replied, chastened.

He took off his jeans and started to put the board shorts on over his underwear.

"No," she instructed. "Take those off, too. Otherwise we won't know if the shorts fit."

"Mom," Harry said.

"When have you become so shy? It's nothing I haven't seen before."

Harry sighed and turned around so his back was facing his mother and he pulled down his underwear and stepped into the board shorts, which he pulled up around his waist. "See," she said, "that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Harry shook his head. But then to his utter dismay his mother kneeled before him and tugged at the waistband of the shorts.

"Mom, what are you doing?"

"Why, I'm checking that it's right size, you silly goose."

"You're a silly goose," Harry said.

They smiled. Sheila smoothed out the front of the shorts with her hands, her fingers coming within inches of Harry's engorged penis. She could just make out its outline underneath the fabric. It was longer than she remembered, thicker too. Her little boy was growing up.

The next day, Sheila and Harry went to the beach. Sheila did the driving. They listened to the radio and talked about old times. They never failed to make each other laugh.

"Mom," Harry said after awhile. "I'm glad we're doing this too."

"Me too. We haven't been to the beach in an eternity. How long has it been?"

"Since the divorce," Harry was quick to reply. Far from being sad, Harry was happy that his mother had divorced his father two years ago; he was a prick who didn't deserve her, Harry always said.

"Has it been that long?" she said.

Harry nodded.

Sheila looked over and put her hand on Harry's thigh. "Listen, I'm sorry this has been a rough couple of years and I know I haven't always been there for you."

The feeling of her hand on his thigh was electric. "It's O.K. I'm just glad we're together now."

Sheila smirked to herself. Interesting choice of words, she thought. Together.

When they got to the beach, there was nowhere to change. "We'll have to hold towels up for each other," Sheila said.

"O.K." Harry said.

As Sheila sat on the edge of the backseat with the door open, Harry held up the towel across her. "No peeking," she grinned and Harry closed his eyes. "Don't be silly," she said. "I was only kidding. I don't care if you look or not. I'm only your mother."

Harry opened his eyes but tried not to stare. Though he still managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of his mother's hanging breasts, even a flash of her dark areolas, and the dark patch between her legs. She stood up in her new bikini. "Your turn," she said.

They switched positions, Harry sitting down and Sheila holding up the towel. "No peeking," Harry joked and his mother smiled. Her eyes were still open. Usually shy and quick to dress, this time Harry took this time. He wasn't ashamed if his mother saw his burgeoning manhood, in fact he was quite proud of it. Of all the boys he had seen in the locker room at school, he was by far the biggest. Sheila noticed it, too, and she caught herself staring. She seemed disturbed.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked once he was changed.

"Nothing," she said, though she couldn't lie to herself. Her little boy was now a grown man.

They frolicked in the surf, Harry splashing his mother, and they held each other under a wave, trying not to fall over. They laughed and swam and kicked in the surf. They were like a couple of kids. When they came out of the water, their suits clung to their wet bodies like a second skin. Nothing was left to the imagination. Harry could see his mother's semi erect nipples peeking through her top as well as the outline of her pussy lips. For his part, Harry's shorts molded his penis perfectly, showing off everything except the size of his balls.

They lay down on towels side by side. "That was fun," Harry said.

"Maybe for you," Sheila, "but I got a bunch of sand up my butt."

His mother didn't usually talk that way around him and the use of "sand" and "butt" in the same sentence had an arousing effect on Harry.

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"It's O.K." she said. "I'll dig it out later."

Harry wondered what she meant, wondered whether she would actually reach her finger up her butt and clean out the sand. The image of his naked mother fingering her asshole gave Harry an instant boner and he immediately lay down on his towel on his belly.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"Oh nothing," Harry said. "It's just a tummy ache."

"Oh you poor thing. Let me rub your back for you so you feel better."

Harry didn't argue with her and Sheila straddled his back, kneading his shoulders.

"How does that feel?"

Harry's eyes were rolling back into his skull. He moaned. "Wonderful," he said.

Sheila smiled. "I'm pretty good, aren't I?"

"The best," Harry said. "And in more ways than one."

"What do you mean?"

"You're the best mother, the best dresser, the best looking."

"You're such a sweet talker," she said. "Keep it up."

"You have the best lips..."

"Keep going."

"The best eyes...the best face...the best thighs..." He looked up to see if his mother objected to what he was saying and seeing none continued, "the best breasts...the best ass...the best body." He stopped, waiting for his mother to say something, but she didn't. Instead, she rolled off him and lay back down her towel.

Sensing he had done wrong, Harry immediately apologized. "I'm sorry. I went too far."

Sheila was hugging her knees, staring off into the surf. "It's not your fault," she said. "It's mine. This was my idea. I brought us here. For all I know I was subconsciously planning for this all along."

Harry was confused. "What do you mean?"

"You're eighteen. Of course, you're going to act that way and say those things around a half naked woman, even your own mother. I should have known better. But I was being selfish. I was only thinking about myself and about all the good times we had here."

She faced him. Her eyes were tearing. "I'm sorry. Will you forgive your old mother?"

"Oh mom," Harry said and immediately embraced her. They stayed like that for awhile, hugging each other on the beach, rocking back and forth, his mother crying. "I love you, mom."

"I love you, too son."

Then their eyes locked and in the heat of the moment, half in tears, half in excitement, they kissed. This wasn't your typical mother/son kiss. This one had legs. It lasted and Sheila and Harry used their tongues to probe and polish each other's mouths. Instinctively, as if giving in to a higher power, Sheila laid back on the towel, while Harry moved on top of her, kissing her and rubbing his genitals against her crotch.

Suddenly realizing what was happing, Sheila shouted, "Harry, stop!"

He immediately desisted and rolled back onto his own towel. His head was spinning, so was Sheila's. Had they just been making out on the beach, in public no less? Sheila stood up and started to gather up their things. "We should go."

They didn't say anything to each other on the ride back. Harry tried to apologize but his mother wouldn't hear of it. When they got home, his mother headed straight for the shower to, Harry assumed, wash the sand out of her butt. Once she was done showering, he heard a door slam. She had locked herself in her room.

Whatever had been troubling in the night was gone by the following morning. "Good morning, sleepy head. How did you sleep?"

Harry stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Fine. You?"

"Slept like a baby. Here, eat your breakfast." She had prepared a feast.

"Thanks mom. This is great."

"Enjoy it while it lasts. You can't live at home forever and have me be your cook."

"Why?"

"Because it isn't healthy. I was thinking about it. I think you need to go out more. Meet more people. Get a girlfriend."

"Mom, you know how I feel about girls. They're stupid and immature."

"Not like your old mom?"

Harry shook his head. "Not even close."

His mother laughed. "You're such a charmer. You've always known how to cheer up your mom. Are you done?"

Harry looked down at his empty plate and nodded. She picked up his place and put in the sink with the other dirty dishes.

"Mom, why don't you let me do the dishes for a change."

"If you insist," she said and took off her apron. "I'm going upstairs to take my shower."

"Good." As Harry stood by the sink, scrubbing and washing and rinsing, he thought about his mother's naked body in the shower. He could almost see it in his mind's eye: the heavy hanging breasts, the round heart-shaped ass and the dark patch of pubic hair. Other women shaved down there, but Harry preferred how she'd kept it natural.

"Why, aren't you a good little helper?" It was Sheila. Her hair was wet and she wearing a white tank top and short shorts.

"I try," Harry grinned.

His mother started to put away the dishes that were dry, but she couldn't reach the top shelves. "Here, let me," Harry said.

"Thanks. I'd forgotten how tall you are." She took a step closer to him. "How tall are you now?"

"Six two."

"Wow you're almost a foot taller than me. Turn around," she said.

"Why?"

"Just do it."

Harry turned his back to his mother and he felt her back up against his. Her head barely reached his shoulders.

"That's not fair," Harry said. "You're wearing heels."

"O.K." she said, looking at him and stepping out of her high step heels. "Happy now?"

"Much."

They stood back to back again and this time Harry was much taller than her. Harry turned around. "You know what would make you taller?"

"What?"

"Standing on my feet."

"But wouldn't that be cheating?" she said.

"Not in my book," Harry said and facing each other now his mother stood on his feet. They were not quite eye to eye, but Sheila definitively felt taller. He hadn't this close to her since the episode at the beach and he caught himself gazing into her eyes. When she stepped off his feet, he was nursing a full fledged boner.

"Honey, you need to take care of that?" she said.

Harry blushed. "I'm sorry."

"It's O.K. Just go upstairs and do what you go to do to take care of it."

Harry knew what his mother meant, so he went up to his room, shut the door and started to masturbate. Standing in the kitchen, Sheila thought about her son, his pants around his ankles, stroking that large manhood of his. It was enough to make her stutter. When Harry was done, he came back down.

"Feeling better?" she said.

"Much," Harry said. He had evacuated the poisons, so to speak, and could look at his mother without having a sexual thought. But he knew this reprieve wouldn't last.

"What are you up today, mom?" he asked.

"I don't know. I may go shopping. How bout you?"

Harry shrugged. Sheila hesitated, "If you're not doing anything, you come with me, but only if you want to."

Harry's eyes lit up. "That would be great."

At the mall, they held hands and attracted more than their fair share of stares. Harry knew why. His mother was gorgeous and here was this lovely woman on his arm. They passed a Victoria's Secret and Sheila could tell Harry was staring at the mannequin in the window.

"Do you like that?" she asked.

"Umm, yeah," Harry said.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," she said. The mannequin was wearing a black lace thong and a matching push up bra. "Do you want to go inside? I could use some new undies."

"O.K." Harry said, non-committal. Sheila picked out what she usually did, plain cotton panties. She could read the disappointment on Harry's face. "What's the matter?" she said.

"Nothing. It's just that you're such a beautiful woman, I think you deserve better underwear."

"Such as?"

Harry looked around. "Such as these," he said, showing her a lacy thong. Sheila picked it up and held it up. "But it's practically floss," she said.

Harry didn't say anything.

"But I could try it if you like."

Harry couldn't believe what his mother had just said. He nodded coolly. Sheila picked a few thongs and g-strings in various colors and went to the fitting rooms. Harry held her bags and waited outside her stall on a bench. He could only see her feet below the bottom of the stall door and her feet and ankles as she threaded them through each new selection. Suddenly, her head peaked up over the top.

"Honey," she said. "Can you give me a hand?"

"Sure, mom."

She opened the stall door and Harry stood there, not knowing whether to enter or not. "Come in, come in," she said. "Before someone sees you."

The narrow fitting room was full of his mother's sweet intoxicating aroma. When she closed the door, he saw that she was only wearing a thong and bra. Harry tried not to stare.

"So," she said doing a twirl. "What do you think?"

"I think you look amazing."

Sheila faced the mirror and pulled up the thong higher on her thighs and adjusted the bra. "Not bad for an old broad, eh?"

Harry was stunned. He could see the white expanse of her cleavage, the outline of her pussy lips and the shape of her beautiful round ass. She was practically naked before him. It had been over an hour since he had masturbated in his room and those old feelings returned. He started getting hard. Sheila noticed immediately.

"Wow," she said. "That didn't take long."

Harry apologized again.

"It's OK. Just do what you go to do."

"You mean, here?"

"Where else? You can't possibly walk around the mall with a boner that size."

She had a point and he expected her leave him alone in the stall to jerk off but was amazed when she was still standing there, half naked, while he unzipped and pulled out his raging hard-on. Sheila tried not to stare. Harry sat down on the bench and started to stroke himself. It was bigger than Sheila ever imagined. After a few minutes, Harry sighed in exhaustion; he couldn't come.

"What's wrong?" Sheila said.

"I don't know. This has never happened to me before."

"Here, let me try." And before Harry could object, she kneeled before and seized the base of his cock and stroked it slowly.

"There," she said, smiling. "How does that feel?"

Harry was besides himself. He was in Heaven.

"Tell me when you're close," she said. "So you don't make a mess."

The pressure was building in Harry's balls and as the juices shot up from his shaft he tried to warn her, but it was too late. His mother's face and chin was covered in cum.

"I'm so sorry, mom," Harry said.

Sheila wiped some cum from her eye and said, "Boy, that was a big load. Give me a head's up next time, will ya?"

Harry nodded. He couldn't believe his mother had just jerked him off and moreover he had cum on her lovely face, which was dripping his juices. Sheila cleaned herself up, dressed and together they left the dressing room.

That night, as he lay in bed, he tried to jack himself off to sleep as he ordinarily did before bed time, but this time his hand was no good. No, after his mother's, no other hand would do. So he gathered up his courage and knocked on his mother's bedroom door. She was still awake and reading in bed.

"What is it, honey?"

Harry was ashamed in asking, but Sheila was surprisingly obliging. "All right," she said. "Let's get this over with before I change my mind."

Harry took off his boxers, but his mother said to take everything off, including his shirt, which he did. She made him sit on the edge of the bed while she kneeled between his thighs. Sheila was wearing her new underwear and so Harry could stare down into the vast expanse of her beautiful cleavage. As she went to work on his dick, Harry closed his eyes and moaned.

"No, keep them open," Sheila said. "I want to see the expression in your eyes when you come."

As the pressure built in his balls, he moaned louder and his mother stroked faster.

"Oh god," Harry said, "I'm gonna cum..."

Sheila grinned ear to ear. "That's it, baby. Cum for momma."

Instead of dodging it, she opened her mouth and caught each successive rope of semen in the back of her mouth. She purred with delight as he kept cumming. She had raised a real stud. Sheila's mouth was almost full when he was done and she threw back her head and swallowed it all in one gulp. Harry was astounded.

"Ah, that hit the spot," she said and wiped her mouth. She slapped his knee. "It's time for you to go to bed now, mister."

"Ok, mom," he said and kissed her goodnight on her semen covered lips.

Harry was surprised how nonchalant his mother was about giving him two hand jobs in the past day. He didn't know whether it was a one-time thing or whether it was the beginning of something larger. In any event, he decided to play it cool around her and not press his luck any further.

The next few days they acted like mother and son to each other and as if nothing had happened between them. Yet Harry couldn't stop thinking about his mom and her body. They invaded his thoughts whenever he was daydreaming and instantly his cock would stiffen. Harry wanted more but he didn't know how to go about it. Then Valentines Day rolled around and he saw his opportunity. He bought her some red lingerie, a dozen roses and a card.