All characters in this story are over 18 years old.
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This is the story of how my mother and I developed a close and loving relationship.
Growing up, it was just Mom and I, my dad left when I was four years old. He was abusive towards my mom, mostly verbal abuse...but absolutely nothing she deserved. Being the only child, that thrust me into the role of being "Man of the House"...a role that I wasn't extremely comfortable with in the very beginning, but later grew into. You see, I was not the most confident of pre-teens or even teenagers...always somewhat awkward and always insecure about my body. With the help of my mom, this eventually changed. But it was definitely a journey to get there.
My mom is very liberal, she would describe herself as an old school hippie. She is an avid reader, has a great appreciation for music and art. She's bisexual. She was a model and dancer when she was younger, now very into meditation and yoga. Oh, and she has also been a nudist for many years. She's attended many nudist camps, colonies, outings etc...I remember growing up there were many books on nudism on our shelves. It was a lifestyle. And even though it was a lifestyle I was raised in, it was not a way of life that was forced on me. In fact, there were boundaries for her, this isn't to say she felt insecure about being naked in front of me that certainly was not the case. But the instances of being unclothed in the house were minimal and were confined to leaving the shower, or the occasional topless sunbathing by our pool. The reason for this is that she wanted the level of nudity in our home to be dictated by me...that is to say, if I felt comfortable enough to be naked in front of her, or showed a high level of comfort seeing her in the nude...then it was ok. Until that time, we'd keep our clothes on the majority of the time.
In the early years, I was one of the most shy kids in school. I always had insecurities that other boys my age either did not possess...or they masked them very well. Mine were so severe that I could hardly form a sentence around girls. I don't know where all of this came from...I mean, I know I was a pretty skinny guy and I hated that. I wanted to be one of the bulked up muscle heads I saw in fitness magazines...but no matter how many weights I lifted, or calories I consumed...I was unable to gain a pound. I also had another feature that separated me from the other kids...a penis that was unusually large for someone my age. I know many would think that would be a teenage boy's dream...but to me it was just one more thing that made me stand out, or made me different than the other guys. And at a certain age, standing out and being different are not good qualities.
I played high school baseball and I remember some of the other boys joking and saying things like, "Hey you're not allowed to bring a bat into the showers,"... or "why don't you try out for porn" etc, etc...clearly, many of the guys were impressed and envious of my size...but again, I was Mr. Awkward and Mr. Insecure...instead of being proud of how endowed I was, I was more embarrassed than anything else.
As I began to mature, I started to see more results from working out...more muscle tone and size...and my mom noticed as well. She began commenting quite often on my development...I still had those awkward feelings and insecurities...but her compliments helped my confidence level, that is for sure. I was much more comfortable being shirtless around the house...and even bottomless going from the bathroom to my bedroom after showering. And during one of those short post shower treks down the hallway, my mom stopped me to mention again how much I've developed...but this time she was looking squarely between my legs. Admittedly, I'd been touching myself a little in the shower, so I still had some residual firmness...and while I still had the feeling of not being 100% at ease with my size...I believe that was the very first time I felt a tinge of pride...a feeling that the opposite sex found my size and my body appealing. This was a new feeling for me. And coupled with the growing attraction I was having towards my mom's body...I knew I was entering into unchartered territory, new emotions and feelings I hadn't experienced before.
The attraction to my mother happened gradually, but I believe it was a mix of several factors...my complete shyness with girls in school, my hormones starting to kick into overdrive, my close relationship with my mom... all combined with her penchant for wearing the most revealing outfits. And why not, she had an incredible body that she worked hard at maintaining, tall and thin, with long dark hair and long legs, a really nice butt that she was very proud of, and loved showing off...and beautiful D cup breasts. Let's just say, she was truly the MILF of the neighborhood when my friends came around, or when we hung out at the pool and they got to see her in her bikini...and I have to admit, I was beginning to see her in that light as well.
The sexual tension and feelings I had around my mother seemed to be growing daily...and I think she could sense it. My mom had a thing for white skimpy panties and white skimpy bikinis, if we were by the pool. Sometimes they were very sheer and I could see the brown patch of hair showing through her panties or bathing suit as she got out of the pool. This would drive me insane. I remember becoming completely obsessed with her vulva...wanting to get a glimpse any chance I could get. Don't get me wrong...I was plenty aroused seeing her breasts free from her bra or topless sunbathing...but the mysteries of what was between her legs is what had my mind racing. Especially at night while in bed and masturbating...I'm sure most of my friends were stroking themselves to porn, Hustler magazine, or thoughts of girls from school...not me, it was the fantasies of Mom's vagina that did it for me. Fantasizing of what she felt like, smelled like, tasted like...all I had was my imagination, and boy was it running wild!