Mom's Impressive Bush

Son, Jacob, 19. Mom, early 40s. They don't jump into it right away, its buildup for something fun. I don't really like too much romance either. Motherly love is usually enough. Anyway, enjoy. :)

*****

"Wow, Mom. Impressive."

Mom turned around and stood up immediately, pulling her shirt down to cover herself up more.

"J-Jacob!" Mom stammered at me sounding surprisingly more shocked than angry.

I smiled in an attempt to ease the mood. "Heh, sorry Mom. I'm just, you know... callin' it like I see it."

"Jacob, honey. You shouldn't be seeing anything, should you?"

"Hey, I didn't mean to. But I mean, you're my Mom. Who's been more true with you than me?"

I'm not claiming to be some prodigal son or anything, but I've never lied, especially not to my Mom. She was never very conservative and as long as I was honest I pretty much got away with whatever. It's why at 19 I still wasn't really gunning to move out or anything.

"It's true." Mom admitted. Was she almost smiling?

"It is true. And we're cut from the same cloth. Not to be cocky but I came out pretty impressive too, didn't I?" I grinned back and flexed my non-existent muscles at her. Okay, I don't overeat and I'm handsome enough, but I'm more likely to be behind a computer than working out.

Mom was grinning at this point too and had moved her hand back to her side. There was nothing to see but at least I knew she was getting comfortable. 'Wait, am I pursuing this at this point?' I realized I had a lot more aroused confidence for someone who was kind of winging it. Mom realized too, because I caught her looking down. I was only wearing boxers and cloth shorts and all 7 inches of me was at high alert stressing upwards and outwards against the soft clothing.

"Impressive." She caught me catching her looking as she looked up. "I mean, yes, I guess we both turned out pretty good. I could certainly look worse."

My mom wasn't smoking hot or anything but, "You've certainly avoided being a frumpy old lady so far."

Mom's grin was wide as she put her hands on her hips, which caused her shirt to slide up just enough to catch the bottom of her plain cotton underwear. I couldn't quite make out her bush at this angle but I know Mom caught me looking down than up again quickly.

"With a nice ass, apparently, or so my son thinks."

"Huh?" I actually let that out without thinking. My mom had a nice butt, sure, but it wasn't what I was after right now.

She almost looked taken aback. "You weren't saying I had an impressive butt?"

I caught back up with her thinking, chuckled, and smiled. "I'm not saying you don't, but that's not what I was talking about."

She tiled her head. "Then...?" she said, waiting for me to clarify.

There was a massive drop in confidence in me as I was called to clarify. Mom's face was filled with curiosity and confusion. Still, I'd been upfront with her as long as I could remember and it never hurt me in the long run, so...

"I meant your bush!" Her face switched to one of shock. But again, not anger. "Haha, kind of awkward to say out loud. Sorry Mom, but it's true. It was pouring out of your und... you. I mean, your underwear." I was grinning and blushing at this point, hard as a fucking rock. You know, when it starts to hurt just a little bit too much from being constrained at all.

Seeing her not respond immediately and to fill the silence for myself, I kept on, "I mean, me too. I don't shave down there either but I... I can't compete. I was more... well, impressed than anything. S'why I said that. Sorry Mom." I looked down then immediately back up when I remembered I could see her underwear. Didn't need to be caught looking when I was already caught looking.

A few seconds feels like an eternity when the silence is awkward, but eventually mom lowered her hands from her hips, sighed but not depressingly, shook her and said "What am I going to do with you?"

"How about a hug and I'll finish the laundry and you can go relax."

She smiled now, warmly. "I'm not upset at you baby, just surprised. Still, I won't pass you up on either of those." She stepped toward me and me her (my erection having done no sort of relaxing since this began) and embraced me. My mother was just a bit shorter than me but not by much, so my erection ended up pressed right into her groin towards our stomachs. Still, I hugged her hard towards me, not doing anything crude but aware that she must know it was there. She hugged me back like she didn't notice or care, though, and after a few seconds we separated and she smiled at me before heading up the basement stairs. I turned and watched her go, catching a glimpse of her underwear but it being too dark for anything else. I clucked my tongue disappointingly and started on the laundry. It didn't strike me until later that I ended up being upset that I couldn't see my Mom's pubic hair a second time. And it struck me harder how little I cared about it being Mom.

As I walked into the living room Mom was watching some girly movie on TV. She also had a bottle of wine open in front of her and was just setting her glass down as I walked in. She looked back at me and from over her shoulder I saw she was wearing the same long shirt from before. Still with no pants on, she had her legs tight together, but was showing an impressive amount of thigh.

"Movie?" She asked over her shoulder at me.

"Sure." I replied. "Wine?" I asked back.

"No." She said and patted the couch beside her.

"C'mon Mom, I'm not going anywhere." I pouted as I sat down beside her.

"No." She said again and turned her attention to her movie.

We watched the movie for a bit and I mostly zoned out, checking my phone occasionally or shutting my eyes and relaxing. The next time Mom went for her glass I checked out her ivory thighs as her shirt slid up but the room was mostly dark and there wasn't anything else to see and I looked away as quickly as my urges could let me for fear of being caught. When she went for a third time she finished her glass, grabbed the bottle, and sat back with both. I went for another glimpse.

In the basement I had seen hair pouring out of her underwear and all along the inside of her legs right up to her thighs. It was amazing, but here in this light there wasn't anything to see, or they blended with the shadow and the couch to make it so I had to use my imagination.

"Jacob?" Mom said and I quickly pulled my eyes up to hers. 'Busted,' I thought, but she was holding her newly filled wine glass out to me. "You can have a sip, if you want."

"T-Thanks Mom." I took the glass. She had to have seen I was looking before she handed it to me, though. I took a tall sip as Mom watched and she clucked her tongue at me as I handed it back to her.

"Nearly half the glass is not a sip, son."

"Heh. Thanks, Mom." I replied and leaned my head on her shoulder.

"Enjoying the movie?" She asked before I pulled my head away.

"Eh, not really." I replied. "Enjoying the company, though."

Mom's smile was warm as she looked down at me. "Let me ask you something then."

"Okay, shoot."

"Is this going to be us from now on, you constantly trying to catch a glimpse between your mother's legs?" Her grin was wicked and my face must have been red.

"No, I... No, I, I mean..."

"No, I, No, I, " Mom imitated me. She didn't have any malice in her voice but I was definitely embarrassed and not completely in command of that bold confidence that started this.

"No... I." I stopped and took a breath, committing to not embarrassing myself if at all possible. "Not constantly, Mom. Sorry. I guess I'm just... you know, the mind's curious. And the eyes follow the mind. And I like to look at nice things."

Mom's smile was wide as took a tall sip of her wine and I realized this probably wasn't just the second glass she'd had tonight.

"I'm sorry, Jacob, did you just say my bush was a 'nice thing'?" She laughed out loud and I realized I was helpless to not feel embarrassed.

I looked right at Mom's face and realized she was also red, not from embarrassment but from wine. She was loving this retaliation for what I said to her in the basement. I took another breath and willed myself to calm, realizing as the sober one I could more easily manipulate this conversation if I at least tried to take control of it.

I half-forced a smile. "I guess I did, huh? It's hard to judge something you only saw for a second, but I guess I was impressed enough to say so."

I was a bit taken aback when Mom started laughing into her arm. She put her glass down and fell back onto the couch chortling in laughter. I was about to ask her what was so dang funny when I noticed that with her arm up her shirt had risen up to her stomach revealing her cotton underwear again. If I leaned down I'd definitely see what I was looking for, but my eyes still scanned the edges as I looked at the cloth covering her mound.

"Oh my God, baby," she said in between trying to settle her laughter, "You really are obsessed." I looked up at her and she caught my eyes immediately. "It's just hair, son. And as close as we are I'm still your Mother. This is probably inappropriate or something, isn't it?" As her laughter finally settled she reached for the wine yet again and very unrefinedly poured what was left into her glass before turning her eyes back to me.

I wasn't feeling very in control of this conversation, but Mom saying hair and Mother so close together just reminded me of what I saw and then I pictured it and then I was hard. Damn hard. "I mean, you're probably right. Still..." Why was I always so much more confident aroused? "I guess I want to see."

"You guess?" she said, red-faced and grinning. She took a long sip.

"I mean, I'm trying to, so I guess I do."

"Do you think I'm going to show you?"

"I don't... know."

"Do you think that will help with your little obsession?"

I've never lied to Mom. Still, 'no' wouldn't work too well. "Maybe... maybe."

"Maybe?" Mom laughed at me. She was so loving this.

"Possibly?" I tried as she sipped.

"/Possibly/?" She nearly snorted out the wine.

I gave up, and as I did I smiled and relaxed. "Look, I almost regret saying anything. I was just surprised because I didn't expect my Mom liked it like I do, or would so easily beat me if this were a contest."

"Weird contest."

"Look, so either let me look, tell me not to, show me, or tell me to apologize, but I didn't tease you this badly, you lush, so let it go."

Mom downed the glass and put it to rest on the table. 'Did she drink the whole bottle?' I wondered. Her playful grin hadn't gone down at all after what I said.

"Did you just ask me to show you my bush?"

"I said a lot of things, Mom."

"My son just asked me to show him my bush."

"/Mom/."

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry I picked on you for talking about my bush."

I sighed deeply as she giggled.

Mom looked up at the movie which you could have fooled me into remembering that's what we'd been doing before, and I looked up to. The man and woman were drinking champagne on a boat before the man swept her up in his arms and kissed her. I debated excusing myself but had no desire to speak next. Mom went for the bottle, forgot it was empty, poured a little sip that was left from it into her mouth, and sat back. I looked over as this was happening and caught her eye at the end. She smiled, with a hint of her earlier grin and the same red in her cheeks.

"Alright." She said.

"What?" I asked.

"I'll show you. I'll let you look again, if you want."

"Wh... really? That's it?"

"That's it."

"Why?"

"You're asking why? Really?" Mom was grinning again.

"Well... yeah, I mean." My reply was sheepish.

"What do you mean?"

"Isn't this a big deal?"

"Is it? Do you not want to?"

"No, I mean."

"You mean?"

"I mean..." I sighed. You won again, Mom. "Yes. No. Whichever means I do want to see. I do want to see."

"There you go. And 'why' is because I'm drunk and it is impressive and I never get to show off to anyone but myself. I guess it's not too much of a stretch from you saying you like my hair."

"Uh... sure, Mom. We can go with that. You do have nice hair."

"Oh shut up. So how do we do this?"

"Um, you offered."

Mom sighed with a smile. "I did indeed. Okay."

She shifted toward me on the couch and started to spread her legs. Realizing this was actually going to happen, I got up from the couch and headed toward the light switch.

"Not fleeing are you, son?"

"Nope. The opposite, kind of." I flipped the switch and the white LED bulbs made everything visible. I sat back down and Mom grinned right at me.

"Trying to get a good look?"

"If we're actually going to do this. Otherwise I might look again, right?"

"Probably." Mom chuckled and sat with her back to her armrest. I did the same. Mom stretched her left leg out and rested it on my folded legs, and set her right leg out to the table with the wine bottle.

"Wow, Mom,"

Mom pulled her shirt up and onto her stomach. I got a clear view of her underwear and could see hair poking out from all sides including the top. Before I could wonder if this was it, she grabbed the edges of her underwear and pulled them up tight, covering her pussy but giving me a clear view of how thick the hair was around it. It was like a thick oval around her labia that spread out until it thinned down her thighs and up to her stomach. It was thick enough that it looked black but you could see the brown in it in the light, just like her hair. In a word...

"Impressive?" Mom asked.

I was in such a mixed state of shock and admiration that I wasn't even feeling embarrassed. Aroused, sure, but I was willing time to move as slowly as possible.

"I admit, Mom, I am impressed."

"Well I can't believe my son is staring at my pubic hair."

I was staring. I was trying to take a picture in my mind so I could masturbate to it later. Mother or not, having a woman exposing herself to me for my pleasure was very arousing and I didn't want to forget it anytime soon. So I didn't deny it. Instead I noticed details like how it spilled up and over the tops of her legs, and continued down towards her ass, where I couldn't see. Something about noticing the gap of skin on her thighs where the pubic hair ended before the leg hair began made me realize how erotic this really was.

"Is this what we're doing for the rest of the night?" She teased.

"It's a better show than whatever we were watching before."

"It's still on, silly."

"Oh."

Mom giggled as she pulled both her legs in and into a V shape, holding her knees with her hands. I got to appreciate how the hair spilled out onto her thighs and ass from this angle. She was looking at me but I was too busy staring at her to notice. I'm sure my mouth was hanging open.

Thinking I didn't want this to end, I thought of something to say. "When was the last time you shaved?"

"Oh goodness I don't know baby. Its been over a decade."

"Ten years. Wow." I could see she didn't shave her legs, but "do you shave your armpits?"

"No, honey, I don't shave anything. Are you just trying to get me to take my shirt off?" I looked up to see she was all grin.

"I'm just interested."

"Well it's nice you're taking an interest in your mother." she said and yawned, stretching her hands over her head. As I was looking downward I stopped to appreciate her mom boobs pressing against her shirt. Her nipples were hard. Though they hung with age, they were big and at this point they were boobs regardless.

"Ooooh Jacob," she yawned, "what am I going to do with you? I thought you wanted to see my bush, now you're looking at my titties?"

My cock pulsed when my mom said bush and titties. I was beyond hope. The alcohol was starting to make me feel bold, and my mom's teasing grin the entire time we were having this conversation had me empowered.

"You caught me. I'm guilty. I had a taste and now I want to see everything. Sorry Mom." I looked at her. She was grinning. So was I.

She put her hands down to the side of her shirt and lifted a bit. My cock twitched as my hopes rose.

"Hmm... you know that's awfully wrong."

"You raised me, Mom."

She choked on a laugh, "Oh! So this is MY fault now, somehow?"

"Probably!" I laughed, too.

"You little shit!" she said, standing up. Before I knew it, she had swept her shirt up over her head, but before I could gawk, she had raveled the shirt up tight and whipped it at my side like a towel. Not too harsh, but it did surprise me.

"Ow! Mom!" I said instinctively, but fell immediately back into giggles.

Whip! Whip! She gave me two more. I stood up, fighting off laughter, and stepped back, pulling my own shirt off and raveling it up quickly.

"Two can play at this game, Mom!"

"Oh yeah?!"

We stood there, drunk, giggling, brandishing our shirts-as-towels at each other, waiting for the other to strike. Mom got the better of me, though, as my eyes drifted down to the cleavage coming out of her bra. Her bra was plain and her boobs were still mom boobs, but altogether her being in her underwear in front of me like this was all too distracting, and I took a whip towards the nipple for it.

"Yeowch! Hey, no fair, that's cheating!"

"How's that cheating?! I don't think there's any official rules."

"No, but you've got a bra on. Protection."

Mom shook her chest back and forth which rocked her boobs around a bit. I stared. "Do you want me to get you one, son?"

"No! Smartass."

"Oh, so this is your clever way of asking your mother to take her bra off? Aren't you happy enough?"

"I am happy, but you could still take your bra off."

"Jacob." Mom pulled a Mom face at me and for a moment my heart skipped a beat, before she broke into a shit-eating grin. "Oh God, I can't believe you asked me to do that."

"I didn't really ask."

"Oh, well if you didn't ask." She said, and started raveling up her shirt again.

"Wait, wait." I said, looking her right in the eyes, matching her grin for grin.

"Yes, baby?"

"... Would you?"

"Would I what?"

"Mooom."

Giggles. "Would I /what/, son?"

"... Would you ... take it off?"

"My bra?"

"Yes."

"Yes /what/?"

"Mooooom."

"Yes /what/, Jacob?"

"Yes your bra! Will you?"

"Hrm." She was slowly shaking her chest back and forth, smiling with her hand up to her face like she was thinking about it. "I don't know baby. I'm not sure what comes next."

"Your panties come next, Mom."

"Jacob Smith! Or should I say Oedipus Rex! You are trying to get your mother naked!" She put her hands on her hips, straining to not smile. It wasn't quite working.

"I plead no contest."

"That means you do!"

"That's not what that means."

"Why do you want to see your old Mom naked, Jacob?"

"Because I can't stop thinking about it since I saw you bent over!"

"Aw, poor baby." she said half-sarcastically. "Come here."

She opened her arms. I went in for the hug, and felt her cloth-covered breasts again my chest and her head on my shoulder. I put my hands on the straps and hook of her bra.

"Are you going to unhook it?" She whispered.

I didn't hesitate. I scrambled with the hook using two hands. I struggled; Mom giggled.

"Push in then out. Like a Chinese finger trap."

"I know, I know." But I listened to her advice and soon it was unhooked. Mom stepped back, holding the bra up to her breasts with one hand while the straps started to fall loose about her shoulders.

"You know this is way too much for a mom to show her son, right?" She was smiling softly now.

"Yes, Mom."

"Good, as long as you know that." She said, and tossed her bra aside onto the couch. She continued covering her breasts with her arm, but it was still a lot and I was definitely feeling it.

"They don't perk up like the girls your age anymore." She said, a little softly.