It's been an exhausting day, at the end of a long and equally exhausting week. So I'm not that surprised that I ended up passing out early. I wake up when I hear someone opening the door, and I sit up, blinking in confusion. I've got that feeling you always get after a long nap, when you wake up and don't even remember what century you're in. But after a quick look around, everything comes rushing back to me, accompanied by a jolt of excitement.
It's Friday night! And I'm at my mom's house, for our special Friday-night tradition.
Right now, I'm lying on her couch. It's a super nice, fancy one, with silken upholstery and cushions you can just sink into. No wonder I was passed out!
Oh, and aside from the woolen blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I'm completely naked. That doesn't bother me at all, though. The soft wool is heaven against my bare skin, and it's unbelievably refreshing to not be wearing anything after having to stay wrapped up in the tight pants and jacket I wear at work all day. My clothes are probably right where I left them—neatly folded in a basket by the front door. Ever since my mom and I started these little Friday-night hangouts, there's only been one rule: clothes off as soon as you're in the house.
Speaking of my mom, I hear her soft footsteps padding over the floorboards, and she steps into the living room and turns on the lights. She looks
exhausted,
but her face brightens as soon as she sees me.
"Oh! Clara, sweetie, you're already here." Her eyes rake along my nude body. She pretends to look angry. "And you started without me!"
"Sorry~," I say, kicking my legs. "But after the week I had, I
needed
this, mom."
"I know what you mean, baby," my mom says. She's already lifting her blouse up and over her head, revealing her plump, pale stomach.
I jump to my feet, running up to her side. "Here, lemme help you with that."
My mom laughs. "Someone's eager." She pauses in the middle of taking her top off, leaving me staring at the tempting edges of her plain white bra.
"Mommm, stop teasing! Hurry up and get naked!" I tug on her blouse, and she relents, giggling as I yank it off of her. She turns, and I unbutton her bra, letting it fall away from her chest. Her breasts spill out, hanging full and proud against her chest. And believe me, these things are
weapons.
I can't resist reaching out and gently cupping them in my hands. "
God,
mom. Where do things like these even
come
from?"
My mom rolls her eyes and playfully hip-checks me. "You see my titties every week, baby."
"Yeah, and every week I'm like
damn.
"
I juggle her chest while my mom fidgets with the button on her jeans. When she gets it undone, I help her slide her jeans down her legs, revealing her ample bottom and the long, generous curves of her legs. She's only got on her panties and socks now, and she slips those off herself, before bending down so she can gather all her clothes into a neat little pile.
When she stands back up, she spreads her arms at her sides. "Well, there it is. Everything you hoped for?"
"Yes..." I sigh. "You're seriously so,
so
beautiful."
And she really is. When she was young, my mom was hot. Like, could-be-a-movie-star hot. And as the years have gone by, she's only gotten more radiant to me. Her body softened in all the right places. And there's this raw, motherly sweetness that pours out of her no matter what she's doing. Right now, she's giving me this wry smile, like she can't believe how much of a shamelessly horny dork her own daughter is. And even now, I feel like the love is just radiating out of her, so warm and comforting that I want to bask in it all day.
My mom sighs. "I swear, Clara. You're hopeless."
"Maybe a little. But hey, how am I supposed to compose myself when I'm looking at
that,
" I say, gesturing to all of her.
"Baby, please. Look at yourself. It's a miracle I'm even still standing, when you're showing everything off like that."
"Aww, mom..." I say, feeling the heat creep into my cheeks. I spread my arms. "Hugs? Please?"
"Well. If you insist."
My mom reaches out and wraps her arms around my shoulders, pulling me against her chest. We're the same height, but I like to sag against her, making myself feel small in her embrace. I can feel her body heat pouring into me, and my own chest presses up against her pillowy mounds. I rest my head on her shoulder, nuzzling her neck with my chin and inhaling deeply, breathing in the familiar scent of her.
"Mmmm. You smell good."
"Sweetie, I've been running myself ragged all day. I'm a sweaty mess."
"Yeah. Still. It's a nice smell."
"Hmm. I'm glad one of us likes it, at least. But I need a bath."
"Oh! Can I wash your hair?"
"I wouldn't say no to that..."
My mom gives me one last squeeze, then lets go. She takes my hand, her fingers intertwining with mine, and she leads me into the bathroom. Our bare feet slap softly against the cold tile, and my mom flips on the lights. The house she lives in is pretty modest, all things considered, but she spared no expense on the bathroom. The vanities are marble, the walls are white and spotless, and the whole place is dominated by a huge freestanding tub. I stop in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, and I tug on my mom's hand so that she steps up beside me. For a moment, I just want to admire the two of us.
I take after her a lot. In fact, I look almost exactly the way she did when she was my age: tall, willowy, with full dark lips and a tawny complexion. But her eyes are a rich buttery color, and mine are pale blue. We've both got the same raven hair, though I keep mine cut boyishly short and she likes hers long. Right now, it's all wound up into an adorable little bun perched atop her head. She wears glasses, big round ones that make her look both clever and unbelievably cute. I've never needed them.
Her chest is incredible. Like
insane.
But mine's not too bad either. We've got the same chocolate-colored nipples, and our breasts both plenty of heft and a tiny bit of sag to them. Down lower, she's got a soft belly with a few love handles. Mine is tight and edged with curves of muscle. I spend a lot of time swimming in the college pool, when I'm bored. Below that, well...
Let's say that my valley is a bit wild and overgrown. Hers, though, is perfectly landscaped.
My mom gives our reflections an approving smile. "We sure look cute together, don't we?"
"My eyes are all on you."
"Oh, stop," she scoffs, though I can see the pink coloring her cheeks.
My mom lets go of my hand and walks over to the tub, starting the tap. I sit up on the counter next to the sink, shivering slightly as the chilly marble presses against my bare butt. While we wait for the bath to fill, we chat about our days. My mom's a school teacher, and she's great at it. All her kids love her, and I can see why. She's seriously impossible
not
to love. I teach at the local community college. And I never feel like my stories are very interesting. But my mom listens. She laughs. And she sounds genuinely proud that I've almost made it through another semester. The longer we talk, the more light my chest feels, and I start feeling that soft, glowing feeling inside of me, the same feeling that I always get when I'm with her.
When the water's ready, she reaches up and unties her hair, letting it fall in a single dark, glossy curtain down her back. She dips a toe into the water and lets out a coo of delight.
"Perfect," she sighs. Then she slides her body into the soapy water. I pull up a plastic stool, sitting beside her. There's a plastic caddy of different shampoos next to the bath. I pick the one that I know is her favorite, a sweet-smelling one with lilac infusions. I squirt a healthy amount into my palms, and I start to work it into her hair, my fingers massaging her scalp, then her neck, then her shoulders as I work my way downwards.
My mom leans back and shuts her eyes. "Clara, baby... you're such an angel."
"I know~!"
"I love you so much, sweetie."
"Ditto!"
And yeah, I realize that this is
pretty
weird. I mean, I'm in my twenties. I'm cute. And I'm pretty fun to hang around. Why am I spending my Friday night with my mom? And why are we both
butt-naked?
As I work the shampoo through my mom's silken hair, we enjoy the silence of one another's company. It feels so right, just being near her. Things weren't always like this, though. I was a brat as a teenager. My mom was always busy with work, and I felt like she didn't pay enough attention to me. I acted out, I caused her problems, I yelled at her... all the classic moody girl stuff.
But then I left for college. I calmed down. And when mother's day came, I decided I'd rebuild our relationship by surprising her with an exclusive resort vacation. I worked my ass off, saving money for months to afford the trip. But when I finally called her and surprised her with the tickets, she
freaked.
There was plenty of crying, apologies, we talked about how much we really needed one another...
Then we got to the resort. The place was perfect! I mean it, it was one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. But I can be kinda careless sometimes, and I hadn't noticed one important detail about the place.
No clothes allowed. Period.
I was mortified. I freaked out, apologizing to my mom and promising we could try somewhere else. But she was into it! Way more into it than I was. We ended up going in, getting into our room, and then we undressed in front of each other. And I saw my mom completely butt-ass naked, for the first time since I was like a baby.
I was expecting it to be horrifying. Like, who wants to see their mom's junk? But oh. My. God. I know it's a cliche, but she took my breath away. I'm pretty sure I was like some nervous teenager seeing their girlfriend naked for the first time. I could only stare at her, tongue-tied, trying to make my brain understand that the gorgeous lady in front of me was my
mom.
And from there, things didn't get any less awkward. We took dance lessons together—naked. We swam together—naked. We ate super tasty meals together—naked. We played board games, walked on the beach, relaxed on the sand together—all naked.
And at night, we shared the singular bed together. Naked.
When we got home, I don't think I saw my mom clothed for more than a few minutes a week for the whole summer. We were inseparable. Best friends. Spending our days discovering all the fun times we'd never had, because I was too busy being a tiny little bitch.
And yes. We never bothered to get dressed.
And... well, you know... one thing led to another... I don't even really know how it happened, but...
"Clara?" my mom asks. Her voice brings me back to reality. "You alright, sweetie? You looked like you were zoning out."
"Oh. Yeah. Just um... thinking."
"About what?"
"You," I say.
"Oh, baby..."
She reaches back and cups my face. I lean my cheek against her palm. We both shut our eyes for a moment, enjoying the simple perfection of touch.
"Wanna help me watch this out?" my mom asks. "Then we can head to the couch. It's been a long week, and I need my Clara-cuddles."
"Yes!"
As promised, I scoop water over my mom's head until the suds are washed away, and her hair is bright and smells incredible. Then I offer her my hand to help her out of the bath, and I pass her a towel. While she dries off, I pad into the kitchen.
"Want me to make anything?" I call out.
"I'm not hungry! But if you find anything sweet in the pantry, I wouldn't mind," she yells back. "Oh! And wine."
"Of course!" I say. It wouldn't be one of our Friday dates without wine.
I spread the blanket out on the couch, then collapse on top of it, wriggling with joy as it caresses the bare, sensitive parts of me. I set out a bottle of wine and two glasses, along with a packet of double-chocolate cookies I found. Then I wait, toes fidgeting with the plush carpet while my mom finishes up in the bathroom.
When she pads back in, I motion her towards me, then gently slap my thighs. "Get on over here."
"Oh!
You're
