Those of you who read our stories know that I am a confirmed voyeur and my wife Joan is a passionate exhibitionist. Our libertine lifestyle has been one of sharing each others excitement; be it carnal or be it romantic marital love. At one point we even shared the same beautiful woman during an eighteen month affair. What I am about to relate is an attempt to self-analyze my voyeuristic behavior.
I had just turned eighteen and was in my last year of school. I was wide awake lying in my bed. My parent's bedroom door was at right angles to my bedroom door and at the moment both doors were open. My room was dark but the light in their room reflected my mother's naked body in the mirror which was fully visible from my bed.
My mother, like everyone's mother, was beautiful. She was a natural redhead with copper colored hair and pale skin, very lightly freckled in some places. She had a cameo type face framed in her shoulder length hair. At about five foot six inches her body had fullness and beauty of form that would suggest sensuous pleasure. At the time I witnessed her nude loveliness she was about forty one and mother of two, me being the oldest.
Her breasts were large and full and the jiggled and swayed when she walked. Men would find reasons to stop and talk to my mother. My father spent a lot of time on the road due to his vocation and I think mom enjoyed the attention.
That first night I lay in my bed and watched as the lush woman in the mirror picked up a hairbrush and started stroking her gorgeous red hair. At rest her tits hung down and to the outside of her chest. They were full but bigger around toward the nipple end; sort of like a sock with a big round ball inside. This kind of surprised me because with a sweater on they always seemed to point straight out.
On the end of each tit was a nipple. It was like a flat little button about one half inch across and a pink in color. The nipples were surrounded by a larger bumpy ring a little darker in color. These bigger circles were about an inch and a half across and contrasted with the milk white skin of the big fleshy bags. The entire tit hung down to about the bend in mom's arm.
As my mother brushed her hair her breasts jiggled and swayed all over her chest and I lay in bed fascinated with the sight. The show lasted about ten minutes then the room went dark. I loved seeing my mom's tits; it was a very pleasant sensation and caused a stirring in my loins.
That fall my father put a crude shower in the basement; just a shower head, curtain ring and curtain over the existing drain. All the windows were curtained except one furthest to the rear of the house. Common in older homes, the bath room on the second level boasted only a tub. Dad or I used the shower but mom and my sister opted for the tub.
Dad continued the remodeling with the upstairs bath. This meant mom would have to use the basement shower for a couple of weeks. I managed, through the rear window, to observe my nude mother, twice, getting into and out of the basement shower. Besides those magnificent tits I now gained an appreciation for that plump white ass which blossomed out from her waist like an inverted heart. All I could tell from the front was that she was a true redhead. Where the lush alabaster thighs met there was a small copper colored nest covering her mons and labia.
The difference between the first time, in the mirror, and the naked displays in the shower was the rock hard erections that ensued. I felt no guilt about spying on my mother and I felt no guilt about my fantasies. At this period in my life having a hard-on was almost as natural as breathing.
With the upstairs bathroom remodeling completed mom reverted to relaxing in the bathtub in lieu of the shower. Thank goodness for older homes and keyholes. I found that if I sat at the top of the stairs on the second floor landing I could look through the keyhole and be rewarded with a great view of the bathtub. The problem was mom would have to take a bath when the house was empty except for me. The opportunities were rare.
Any sex life I enjoyed during my senior year consisted of few fleeting glimpses of my lovely mom and a stash of girly magazines under my bed. I was dating Joan and doing everything I could to get in her pants but an occasional petting session was the limit. Like most eighteen year old boys I always carried a rubber both to be macho and in hopes of actually needing it someday.
Wednesday after school my sister would go to girl scouts and not return home until about six o'clock. Wednesday afternoon was the only time I could be assured of being alone in the house with Mother. But . . . who takes a bath on Wednesday afternoon?
Call it Karma, Fate or Luck. One Wednesday afternoon, in mid November, I arrived home about three thirty. There didn't seem to anyone around.
"I'm home." I yelled, climbing the stairs to my bedroom.
"I'm taking a bath."
I lingered at the top of the stairs long enough to take a look through the keyhole. There she was sitting in the tub her pendulous tits shiny with soap and water, sliding back and forth across her chest as she washed her arms. The rest of mom's charms were hidden by the tub. If I was lucky I might get a fleeting glimpse of her pussy as she toweled off.
"Max, what are you doing out there?" Looking in the direction of the door.
Nervously, I moved quietly away from the door.
"Just sitting on the steps." A really a dumb thing to say.
"I'm going downstairs now." I said as I descended the stairs and turned on the TV.
The rest of the day proceeded in a normal "Cleaver" family fashion. After supper dad and I played a little ping-pong in the basement until I excused myself to do my home work. In my room I studied the girlie magazines far more than my history text and eventually went to sleep fantasizing about my mother.
The following day, Thursday, was definitely a turning point in our mother/son relationship. When I arrived home from school my sister was in the basement and my mother was in the kitchen. Dad was still at work.
"I need to talk to you for a minute." Mom said almost before the door had completely closed.
She looked beautiful as usual. Mom always made sure she looked her best when dad was coming home. Today she wore a green wool skirt ending just above her knee and a matching sweater. As she turned to walk ahead of me into the living room I was blessed with a lovely view of that heart shaped ass as her cheeks tussled in the snug green skirt.
She took a seat on the couch. In what seemed like slow motion she crossed her legs giving me an unrestricted view of her smooth creamy thigh and her white cotton panties. Raising my eyes to hers I realized I had been caught looking but the expression on her face was not one of reproach.
"I found something off yours in the wash this morning. I put it on your dresser with your choice of classic literature."
"What is it?"
"You'll see. I want you to consider not leaving these things lying about when a young girl lives in this house."
With that said; mom uncrossed her legs in that same hesitant way and went into the kitchen.
In my bedroom I went straight to the dresser and stared down at the round circular disk resting on one of my skin magazines. The magazine was open; displaying a nude, pale skinned, redheaded woman. I must have neglected to return the magazine to my stash the night before. The shiny copper colored object on the magazine was a "Coin Pack"; the rubber I had been carrying for about six months. Evidently it was in my pocket when I threw my Levies in the wash. I was bagged big time!
I stayed in my room mustering courage to face the lecture that would surely be forthcoming from my father. When mother called me down to dinner dad and my sister were already at the table. The meal and the rest of the evening passed without incident other than mom looking at me every so often like she knew something I didn't!
Nothing more was said and I relaxed as the week passed and started into the next. The following Wednesday morning, after dad left for work, mom reminded my sister of her Girl Scout meeting and off-handedly remarked to me that it would be awfully quiet around there that afternoon.
"Mom, I'm home." I said climbing the stairs to my room that quiet afternoon.
I'm taking a bath. How did your day go?"
My heart racing I stopped on the landing and related a few things about school to my naked mother sitting in the tub on the other side of the closed door. I sat silently down on the step and peered through the keyhole.