I heard the strains of the violins as soon as I opened the front door and smiled. Mum was listening to HER music.
### ### ###
Mum's music was 'classical'. She freely admitted that she knew little or nothing about it. She enjoyed it and, in her book, that was all the understanding she needed. She didn't 'subject' Dad and I to it but listened when Dad was at work and I was at school. She'd go to her indoor beach, the conservatory, lay back on her sun-lounger and loose herself completely to the orchestral sounds.
The truth was that Dad and I actually enjoyed the music and Dad would often arrange for us to go to a concert. I was dragged along, at Dad's insistence, to get some 'culture rammed darn me lug 'oles'. When it was usually myself that spotted the up-coming concert in the first place. Mum was delighted and pleased that we were able to put up with it for her sake.
### ### ###
I slipped my shoes off and my slippers on before removing my heavy outdoor coat. Despite the clear blue sky and brilliant sunshine it was still quite chilly. I recognised the piece, Dvorak, Symphony No. 9 'From the New World' usually abbreviated to Dvorak's New World, I thought it very appropriate for the current situation. wandering through to the conservatory to ask if Mum would like a cuppa I stopped dead in my tracks!
### ### ###
My parents married young and I arrived within the year. Times weren't hard but could have been easier. Holidays were a rented caravan near a beach where we spent most of the holiday, because it was free. We played bat 'n' ball, flew kites and chucked Frisbees at each other. Great fun. I loved it and my Mum was the prettiest lady on the beach. Things improved over time and we started to go to the Continent, a mobile home near a sandy beach with warmer sunshine and warmer sea. Mum was still the prettiest woman on the beach and because it was warmer she wore a bikini instead of her usual one-piece.
Dad died six years ago. Fortunately I'd been working for a few years by then so was able to reduce the financial effect of our loss a little. I became the main bread winner and didn't complain at all. Mum kept her part-time job and we jogged along very well.
### ### ###
I was just about to step into the conservatory when I saw my Mother. She was laying on the sun-lounger in full bright sunshine. She was wearing big, silly sunglasses and nothing else! Her arms were waving, her head rocking side to side and her feet keeping perfect time with the beat. She was conducting the orchestra, naked!
I stood shock still and didn't say a word to disturb her. I looked, but looking doesn't make much noise until the heavy breathing kicks in. Her movements were strangely hypnotic. As she moved to bring in different parts of the orchestra or quieten down others her body twisted enticingly. Her full breasts swung left and right. When required her legs moved and, with perfect timing, she 'played' the required instrument. It was utterly mesmerising.
The final three minutes or so, with the lulling sounds of the woodwind section, slowed everything down, her hands caressed the air, moving to her naked body as the music flowed back and forth. Her breasts, flat stomach and thighs all received the flowing attention of her fingers and hands. As the music once again built towards the final few bars then her hands worked up her body once more, stroking tenderly across her pussy lips and up over her belly and glorious breasts until, again with perfect timing, she seemed to take up her baton and bring the orchestra back in.
My gaze returned unflinchingly to my Mother's pussy. With her legs parted and feet gently swaying to the rhythm I could quite clearly see her swollen pussy lips glistening in the bright sunlight. I reached down, careful not to make any sudden movement, slipped my hand into my pocket and attempted to sort out my rapidly growing cock. With every moment it was getting harder to ignore the fact that the woman before me was my own Mother. My growing cock took cntrol of my brain and only saw a beautiful, naked woman, with a landing strip?? My Mother has a smooth pussy AND a landing strip?
That realisation blew my mind and very nearly my load. My Father dead these six years and my Mother has a smooth pussy and a landing strip. I wanted to lick it, taste it and run my fingers and mouth all over it! I wanted to make this beautiful woman mine.
She reached out an arm, languidly and paused the old CD player.
"Hello Darling, you're home early. Is everything alright?"
She hadn't turned her head towards me and suddenly realised I was present. She hadn't made any move to cover herself, nothing. Just a simple question. Then she giggled delightfully.
"Cat got your tongue?"
I dragged my mind back to reality.
