Ironically, I was studying for my orals when Mom came in from shopping and flapped the little scraps of fabric in my face. "What do you think?" she crowed. "Isn't it just perfect?"
"What the heck is it?" I asked. All I could see was a couple of thin bands of yellow fabric on a plastic hanger.
"It's my new swimsuit, hon." She sat down at the kitchen table and looked at me cheerfully. She was in a much better mood than I'd seen in years...ever since Dad died five years ago, in fact. That was good to see.
I looked at the little scraps of thin cotton again. "That's a swimsuit? I think they forgot a few pieces."
She stuck her tongue out at me. "It's a bikini, silly."
I leaned back and looked at her. "A bikini." Look, my Mom is a well-preserved 45 and all, but she doesn't really have the body for a bikini. And from what I could see, she'd bought one meant for a toddler anyway. "And what about your one-piece? It's nice."
"It's old and boring," she said, as I reached for the tall glass of water I always keep near at hand. As I took a long gulp, she said, "And also not sexy."
I did a spit take, I really did. Hadn't expected that.
"Okaaayyy..." I said, when I finally caught my breath, and she stopped giggling. My mom, giggling!
"So what do you think?" she asked excitedly.
Deciding to humor her, I said daringly, "Well, I can't tell you that until I see you wearing it, now can I?" I winked at her and she giggled again. Then she was up out of the chair and headed for her room, and I stopped thinking about teeny bikinis for the moment.
I say for the moment, because that's about all it took for her to return to the kitchen, this time wearing nothing but that...thing. I looked at her and my jaw hit the floor. Apparently, the bikini was meant for more than a toddler, because it did cover the important parts...barely.
Let me set this up for you, okay? First you have to remember that my mother is not a centerfold model. Nor is she ridiculously young, like most mothers in porn stories. What she is is a normal, middle-aged American mom. She looks nice, and she's very sweet, and she carries around maybe twenty or thirty pounds more than she could, okay? Let's say she's ample in all proportions.
In the bikini, she looked like a fertility goddess. And I don't mean the kind depicted in that ugly Venus of Willendorf statue that European archaeologists are so ecstatic about. She looked like the kind of goddess who could make you rock-hard by waving her hand, and then happily fuck you to death, or at least until she was pregnant with quintuplets. My mouth went dry, and when she put her hand on her hip and pouted seductively, I was lost.