My family is wealthy so I grew up in a very comfortable environment. My late father was the sole owner of a large company and my family still owns the controlling interest, though the firm is run by management. My mother owns her own design firm and is a very successful businesswoman in her own right. Since my father's death she and I have grown close and I've made it my business to look out for her, though perhaps more than anyone suspects.
When I graduated from college three years ago, mom decided she would accompany me down to our family's sea side house in the Bahamas for a week-long celebration of my achievement. I arrived a few days early so during that time I hung out on the beach, drank beer, and girl-watched. By the weekend, mom had arrived.
Maybe I was just horny from watching all those girls but I was struck by how good mom looked. She was approaching 50 that spring, but looked great. Think of Adrienne Barbeau in her mid-40s and you've pretty much got the picture.
Mom gave me a warm greeting and changed from her well-tailored business attire to the more relaxed and appropriate shorts and tank top. I poured her a glass of wine and we spent some time catching up. Then she told me she wanted to take me someplace nice near the marina for dinner.
That evening we went into town, got a dockside table, and dined. It was fantastic. Mom was in a great mood, too; glad to be away from the stresses of the office for a while. After dessert, she suggested we stop by the yacht club for a little dancing. I had never been dancing with my mom before, but what the hell, I was game.
Mom showed off her graceful dance moves and I enjoyed watching her have a good time - it was helping me have a good time, too. At one point she repaired to the ladies' room and I ordered us a couple of drinks from the attractive waitress.
"Your girlfriend's a really good dancer," the waitress remarked as she took our order.
I thought briefly about setting her straight on the arrangement but realized it didn't matter so I played along and just said thanks. Then the waitress leaned over and smiled conspiratorially.
"Don't worry sweetie, I really dig older men so what's good for the goose. If I can have a daddy thing surely you can have a mommy thing."
I felt my cheeks blush but what she said was pretty funny.
"Sure, why not?" I replied. "Why not go for it?"
"My thoughts exactly," she said as she retreated to get our drinks.
Mom returned in a minute just as a slow number was cranking up.
"What were you and that pretty waitress talking about?" she asked me slyly.
"She thinks you and I are on a date and I thought about correcting her but let it go."
"Well then let's show her how it's done," mom said as she took me by the hand out to the dance floor and fell easily into my arms.
There seemed to be a couple of moments where she might have caught me glancing down at her awesome cleavage, but I may have imagined it. I tried to keep a discreet distance between us but mom kept pulling me closer.
She commented on what a handsome man I'd become and how college had really done something for me. That, plus her stunning looks, was part of the reason I tried to keep some light between our bodies; I couldn't believe it but I was getting an erection just from dancing with my own mom!
Finally she made no pretense about pulling me to her, she just did.
"Hold me close, sweetie," she said with a seductive smile.
"But, mom, it's not that I mind dancing with you," I said in sort of mock defense. "What will people think about us dancing so close?"
"No one here knows us. For all they know we're lovers."
I got flush with excitement to hear my own mother talk so frankly. Surely she could feel the stiffness in my pants as it rubbed up against her belly.
After an hour of dancing that had grown increasingly suggestive, we headed back to our villa. I told mom I was going to take a shower before bed; I needed to cool down from all our dancing and relieve the sexual tension by jacking off.
She told me to use the one in her bedroom since the one in mine needed some maintenance and she hadn't had the opportunity to call the repairman. So I grabbed a towel and headed off to mom's spacious bathroom. Within a few minutes she came in wearing a bathrobe, her dark hair piled loosely on top of her head. She set a glass on the sink.
"I brought you a Rum Collins for a nightcap, dear."
"Thanks, mom."
"You know, I really had a nice time tonight, Ethan. It's been ages since I've been dancing."
"Me too, mom," I replied honestly.
We talked for a minute or two more and then she made me an offer.
"Hey, how about if I wash your back for you?"
"Sure, mom," I replied, as nonchalantly as possible. I was sure she was only trying to help rather than come onto me, but I was nervous all the same.
I thought I would just back over to the door and she would reach in with a washcloth and wash my back. I did enjoy it when my girlfriends would take showers with me and wash my back. I held my face under the warm spray while trying to figure out how best to conceal my three-quarter erection, when I felt the rush of cool air come in through the open shower door. I turned to look over my shoulder and I saw mom, completely naked!
"Hello, there!" she smiled. "I hope you don't mind but I didn't want to get my robe all wet, and I didn't want to let all this wonderful hot steam out, so I thought it would be better if I climbed in with you. We can save water that way, too. You know, two for the price of one!"
I was really flabbergasted, but I also wanted to pinch myself, wondering if I was dreaming. I think she was actually enjoying my discomfiture. There were countless occasions since high school when I admired mom in her swimsuit or her exquisitely tailored clothes. Starting in college I had even begun to have naughty fantasies about her.
They began somewhat innocently enough where we're sipping drinks in a hot tub in our swimsuits; me in my trunks and mom in her moderately cut two-piece that looked like something from a 1950s pinup - very sexy! Then I graduated to fantasies that involved us being naked in that tub, talking about the birds and the bees, with mom confidently predicting that I would be a real ladies' man when I grew up, or mom offering to teach me the things I would need to know to please a woman.
The imaginary lessons started with some light touching and necking, but I eventually worked up the nerve to fantasize about having sex with my own mother. It took a while, but once I finally had the full-on fantasy, accompanied by stroking myself to an ear-popping climax, I began to have more elaborate fantasies and enjoyed them immensely, not ever suspecting that they could be lived out. I was content with that, but now, with mom standing behind me in the shower, both of us naked, I wondered just how far-fetched my fantasy life had been.
What was unbelievable to me also at that moment was how good mom looked. Every bit as good as I had fantasized. Her beautiful big tits were crowned with delicious looking chocolate colored nipples and areola. Her pussy was covered with a healthy triangle of dark hair. I love that far more than the shaved look so many girls my age have. Mom's look reminded me of the models that appeared in the vintage issues of Playboy that my dad had kept in one of the back shelves of his spacious study.
She came over to where I stood, took the washcloth out of my hand and the soap from the dish. Rubbing the soapy washcloth over my back, she placed her right hand on my shoulder to steady herself and me. She used that hand to massage my shoulder, causing my rod to quickly rise to full staff. My heart was pounding, my head was swimming, and my cock was throbbing. I couldn't believe this was happening! Mom moved a little closer to me and her right hand reached around in front to rub the hair on my chest.
"You are such a handsome boy, sweetie!" Mom whispered in a dusky voice.
Her breasts pressed into my back as she moved closer, and I could tell by the feel of her hard nipples that she was turned on by being in the shower with me, and it turned me on that much more. I closed my eyes and savored what she was doing. In a moment her left hand wandered down to my cock and she lightly stroked it. I opened my eyes and gasped in surprised, followed by a very satisfied moan.
"So that's what I was feeling as we were dancing," she said in a sing-song way.
"I couldn't seem to get it to go down since we've come home."
"Oh, no need baby. Mommy's got just the thing to make you feel good."
She turned me around to face her. Holding on to my stiff prick with one hand and pulling me to her with the other, we met in a deep, sexy kiss. At that moment I saw fireworks, and I hoped that mom would be just as much into it as I was because I was ready to have her. I had absolutely no hesitation or thoughts about the forbidden nature of what we were doing, and the absence of those thoughts in itself seemed odd, but very liberating.
