It might not have happened if not for the tree. I say might not, because I like to think that some day it could have happened if the circumstances were right. Just not so soon, and not in such a way.
Soccer practice had finished later than usual, so I only had time to change my shoes before jumping on my bike and pedalling furiously, hoping to get home before I missed too much. Glancing up as I parked my bike at the rear of the house, I was pleased to see a wisp of steam escaping through the partially open bathroom window, and assured that mom was still taking her shower, before her usual evening at a single parents club she had started going to about a year and a half earlier.
She had been what turned out to be the trophy wife of a highly paid bank executive she fell in love with in her late teens. Unfortunately the marriage collapsed a few months later when she found out that he batted for the other side.
After he left to live with his lover - a window dresser at a high end department store - she discovered she was pregnant. To his credit, he voluntarily paid her a generous allowance, meaning she didn't have to work, but the trauma of his betrayal destroyed any trust she had in men, so she devoted herself to raising me.
Years later, when she joined the single parents club, I had been so happy for her that she had finally found an outside interest, that I had actually encouraged her to go.
Then about six weeks ago, something happened that made me view her in a completely new light.
After training I had gone with a group of team mates to play pool at another guy's house, picking up some beer and pizzas on the way. Before I knew it the clock said eleven thirty, and finishing my beer I said goodnight to the guys, and started the short ride home. When I was no more than twenty feet from the house, I detected a movement on the front porch, and my jaw dropped in amazement. Peering through the gloom I could just make out Mom leaning against the front door, holding her skirt up to reveal her pale thighs as she was fucked by a man I had never seen before.
As I watched, her breathless voice came clearly on the night air. "That's nice. Keep it in me until you're finished, I don't want to have to wash cum out of my clothes."
The guy gave three or four more thrusts then grunted. "That's the way babe, take it all."
As he withdrew I mounted my bike, and pedalled away quietly, my mind a whirl of conflicting emotions. Riding around the almost deserted streets, I thought hard about what I had witnessed. I had been happy that mom had a social life, but somehow it had never occurred to me that sex could be part of the equation.
There was no logical reason it shouldn't be part of her life; after all, at only thirty eight it would be years before her sexual peak waned, but in my mind it wasn't something my own mother did. The mothers of other guys, yes. My mom, no. As my mind revisited what I had seen, I suddenly found I was sporting an erection. Although I would never in a million years have thought of her in that way, I realised now that my overriding emotion was jealousy. Having seen her pale thighs spread wide, I began to wish it had been my cock inside her, rather than some nameless stranger. OK, so maybe he wasn't a stranger to her, but he was to me.
The house was in darkness when I finally returned home, and with my boner leading the way I climbed the stairs to my room, where for the first time in my life, I lay jerking off to the mental image of me fucking my mom. I felt a little ashamed when a stream of cum splattered on my belly, but despite that, no sexual experience had ever felt so good. Not even the only time a girl - actually the sister of a team mate - had let me put my hand inside her sweater to feel her bare tits as she worked her hand up and down my cock.
Over the next week I couldn't get the image of mom's bare thighs out of my mind, to the point where I was dreaming up scenarios where I might get to see more than just her legs. In bed each night I lay stroking my boner and imagining the most improbable situations, which always resulted in me spraying my cum into her pussy, rather than on my belly, which was where it really landed. At first my most frequent fantasy mirrored the way I had first seen her on the porch, except that she came dancing into my room with her skirt held high, begging me to cum inside her, and not on her clothes. The only problem with this was that it was too similar to on the porch. I could see her thighs, but there was only an indistinct shadowed area where her pussy should be. This made me think seriously of ways I might see more, even if it was only catching her in her underwear.
When the opportunity arose it was totally unexpected. I was in the yard fixing a puncture in my bike, when a faint sliding sound made me look up. The elevated bathroom window had been opened a few inches, and I could hear mom humming as she prepared for her shower. I looked ruefully at the narrow opening which was too high to see through, then a thought struck me. There was a large old apple tree about twenty feet from the house, and although my tree climbing days were far behind me, it seemed to good a chance to pass up.
Clambering carefully into the lower branches, I peered in through the window in time to see her naked back and shoulders as she shrugged out of her robe. That was all I saw that day, but it gave me the incentive to try again the next week.
This time I had a little more success. After staring for at least fifteen minutes through the six inch gap, I caught the briefest of glimpses of her firm bare breast, before she moved out of my field of view again. It wasn't much, but it was more than I had ever seen, and certainly enough to send me scurrying to my room and jerking my rod until a sticky fountain arced towards the ceiling.
The next week was even better. The window was open maybe an inch wider, and it only took a couple of minutes to set my heart racing. Mom was standing at the washbasin, and although she was mostly hidden by the frosted glass, for more than minute I gazed adoringly at her right arm and at least two thirds of her breast, including her hard brown nipple. Needless to say, my right hand worked overtime for the next half hour or more.
Each week was better than the last, until I was finally rewarded with not only seeing her entire tit, but for more than three minutes I watched it jiggle enticingly as mom brushed her teeth. I knew that no matter how much I yearned to fondle the soft globes, it was only going to happen in my fertile imagination, so I was more than content with what little she inadvertently showed. I would have liked to see below her waist of course, but that too was impossible.
I was out of breath from the furious ride home from the delayed training session, and leaning my bike against the wall, I scrambled up onto my usual perch, and moments later I was treated to a perfect side view when mom stepped from the shower, and stood fondling her superb breasts as she gazed at her image in the mirrored front of the medicine cabinet on the wall. With my eyes firmly on her taut nipple, I waited to see if she turned to the washbasin under the window. I knew from previous experience that the window was only open enough to allow the steam to escape, which meant that I could only see one tit at a time, but that wasn't top of my wish list right now. What I had been hoping for during my ride home, was that she would step back a pace allowing me to see past the washbasin, and hopefully catch a glimpse of her bush.
It was almost as if she was teasing me, because two or three times mom half turned to the window for an instant, moving away again before I could see anything. Undeterred, I tried to climb higher just in case, and disaster struck. My precarious foothold slipped, and with a shriek of terror I tumbled backwards towards the ground.
Mercifully my headlong plunge halted when my foot became jammed in the fork, and I was left dangling helplessly with my head only inches above the dirt. I cast a despairing glance at the window, where mom was staring through the now wide open window with a look of horror etched into her face. For just an instant I almost forgot my predicament in the excitement of seeing both of her wonderful tits front on for the first time, before she stepped back out of sight.
Moments later she crossed the grass towards me, fastening the tie of her short satin robe.
When she reached me she looked down with an amused smile. "Somehow Ben, I don't think that's quite the way Tarzan did it."
Any smart remark I had died on my lips as I looked up. The hem of her robe was no more than a foot above my face, and I had a perfect unrestricted worm's eye view of her slit, surrounded but not concealed by a neatly manicured bush. I groaned with embarrassment, knowing she couldn't fail to notice the sudden bulge that threatened to split my shorts, but she merely stepped closer and grasped my trapped ankle. A second groan escaped me as I felt the softness of her stomach press against my rampant cock.
She stopped trying to free my foot and stepped back. "It's harder than I expected."
I nearly choked on the double meaning of her words, but what she said next half convinced me that our minds were on different paths. "I think if we take your shoe off it will be easier."
"OK," I agreed, "But take it easy, it's a bit sore." It wasn't, but I wanted to enjoy the view as long as possible, and I sighed with pleasure as she pressed close again. Most likely it was wishful thinking on my part, but her pussy seemed to pout a little more, and her clit looked more prominent, and I looked hopefully, but in vain for any sign of moisture seeping from between the pink lips. On the pretext of trying to help, I wriggled my hips, rubbing my erection against her soft belly, hoping that if she noticed she would think of it as an unavoidable accident.
She seemed in no hurry to untie my shoelace, maintaining the close contact despite the gradually increasing movement of my hips, but eventually my foot slipped from my shoe and I tumbled to the ground, taking her with me, and her breath whooshed out as I landed on top of her. Her robe had opened partly, almost revealing her pussy again, and it only took me a moment to realise that if either of us moved more than a few inches in the wrong direction we could be in an almost perfect sixty nine.
The way mom suddenly tensed suggested that the same thought had occurred to her, but when she spoke her voice was tightly controlled. "I think you'd better get off me."
I scrambled hastily to my feet, contriving to disturb her robe enough to expose her slit as I helped her up.
"Are you OK, mom?" I asked anxiously, hoping she hadn't noticed.
She nodded and smoothed her rumpled robe. "Just a little winded. How is your ankle?" I put my weight on my foot and winced for effect. "Here, lean on me and let's get you inside so I can take a look at it," she said, putting my arm around her shoulders. Her breasts were soft and warm against my side, and I exaggerated my limp as we made our way into the house.
Pushing me onto the couch, she knelt and stripping off my sock, she rested my foot on her bare thigh as she gently rotated my ankle. "I feel a bit responsible for what happened," she said quietly. "I knew from the start that you were spying on me. Maybe I should have nipped it in the bud and kept the bathroom window closed, but it amused me to tease you with half glimpses of my boobs." She placed her hand just below her breasts, palm down. "Fortunately the window sill came to here, so you couldn't see what my hands were doing."
