Autumn is such a strange and wondrous time of year. Summer's heat waning into the changing season, while days begin to grow shorter. Some days even feeling a bit like winter, with their nip of frost in the mornings and chilling breezes at night.
It was also my first autumn when I wouldn't be going to school. My high school days now behind me, leading into the days of being an adult, leaving me to contemplate what to do with the rest of my life.
Fortunately, I was still living at home with my mother. She'd been divorced from my father for some time now, long before I could remember him. After him, there'd been no others, either. Thus, I was without siblings or a true father figure. Of course, one could say that my uncles helped on occasion when I'd get unruly with mother and she'd need a strong hand to smack me back into behaving.
Now though, things were different between her and I. We were both adults, both people with lives ahead of us and needing to explore all that it meant to be adult. For me, that meant getting a job, finding a girlfriend and settling down into what would be the rest of my life.
Quietly I sat in the kitchen munching on my morning meal. Eyes constantly wandering around as I found myself lost in thought. Captured upon the whims of fancy and fantasy, completely unaware of a presence coming into the kitchen to join me.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was aware that someone was speaking to me. Moments later, my eyes found themselves firmly attached to the sight of breasts. Covered, but beautiful and full, filling out the thin robe of ebony silk. Smiling deeply, thinking that I was somehow dreaming, I lifted my gaze upwards to see who was attached to those beautiful mounds of womanly flesh.
"Earth to Tyler!" her voice cried out. A jovial tone dancing about every word she spoke as I suddenly realized I had been staring at my mother's breasts. So fascinated by their shape and weight I was, I hadn't even realized that the robe was the one she usually wore during her mornings.
"Oh! Um, morning Mom," I quickly replied, glancing back down at my bowl of cereal as I spooned a mouthful up and into my awaiting maw.
"Where were you just now?" She asked, moving to sit down across the table from me.
"Off in my own little world. Daydreaming really. I mean, I have the whole rest of my life before me, that's a lot to think about."
Nodding slowly, I could tell there was something on her mind. Had she caught me staring at her breasts, and wondered if I was some sort of pervert? Hopefully she thought I was just staring off into space, and she happened to walk into that space by pure accident. I would have been lucky if it was the latter. I would have felt horrible if she believed the former.
"So, any plans today?" She seemed interested in something. Her eyes darting around my shape as though following a fly or random leaf in the wind.
Shrugging lightly, I found my attention drawn once more to her breasts. Her sitting had wound up parting the black fabric of her robe slightly, offering my hungry eyes the barest glimpse of alabaster cleavage to stare at. Something I was incredibly thankful for.
"Not going to hang out with any of your friends?"
Again I shrugged, trying to prolong this conversation, trying to keep from letting her hear the strain in my voice if I dared speak. I was aware then, that staring at my own mother's breasts had caused a reaction. The typical, "man see tits" reaction. My boxers were tenting fiercely as I shifted about slightly within my chair, trying to keep my hips hidden by the table as much as possible.
"Well, I was going to head to the park later today and do a bit of painting. Care to join me? Or would that be too embarrassing?"
I felt something stir inside of me. A strange flurry of feelings and thoughts and awareness to the sensations of attraction. My mind racing as quickly as my heart as eyes finally lifted to once more look into her own. The idea of being with her while painting was oddly, arousing. And it made the straining hardness in my boxers all the more uncomfortable.
"I suppose I could go," I mumbled around another mouthful of food. I was afraid. Afraid she knew that I was conflicted, that I was stuck within a terrible turmoil that ripped up my insides and made me want to be inside her. I was afraid she was just taunting me into coming with her so that she could ridicule me in public, make a big scene about her son the pervert and have me arrested where everyone could see.
Laughing softly, she got back up from the table, moving her way through the kitchen door. Pausing a moment, her head leaned back as she looked at me sitting there. "I could always let you paint me nude!" Then she was gone, bounding upstairs like an African gazelle.
I nearly choked on my food in that moment. It was like she had been inside my head the entire time, purposefully teasing me into this excited state of being. So excited I was, that as I shifted in my chair readying to standing up, the head of my achingly hard shaft rubbed against just the right spot in my boxers.
Before I could stop it, I moaned out loud, feeling thick streams of my young sperm spilling out against the fabric and running down my length. Within moments, it soaked through, leaving my groin a sticky mess that I desperately needed to clean up.
Fortunately, my room was right across from the guest bathroom, which meant that I could run in there, grab some clothes, then make it into the shower without my mother ever noticing the mess her baby had made.
An hour later, I was feeling better. Dried off, clean, and dressed for the outdoors, I sat in my bedroom just staring outside. My room was on the back of the house which looked over a wide and pristine lake. Trees of every shape lining either side, blocking away the view of any other houses.
I found myself getting lost in thought against when Mother knocked on my open door. I hadn't a moment to spare before she set herself down next to me, looking out at the lake as well.
One thing we had been fortunate about, was Mother's parents. They had invested well during various periods of economic booming. As such, they passed on their wealth to us, and we could live quite comfortable in our small, nearly estate sized home.
"So, you ready to head out to the park?" She asked quietly, her fingers coming to rest on my shoulder.
"Yeah," I replied, turning my head enough to look at her.
Again I felt familiar stirrings, noticing what she had chosen to wear. Her top was thin enough that under a good rain, it'd turn from white to transparent, leaving her full breasts exposed to any who saw them. Her pants were equally tight, and of the same material.
From my vantage point, being that I was so close, I could nearly see the light pinkness of her nipples through her shirt. I could also see the shadowing of her cleavage through its gossamer cloth, despite being a turtle neck of sorts. Yet her shoulders and arms were completely bare, allowing me to view the flawless, soft skin I could remember feeling as a child.
Long black hair hung loose down her back and shoulders, with only the slightest hint of curl to it. Those beautiful lockes framing a still young face that gave witness to many things in her life. Full lips painted a light red, with bright, light green eyes that could suck you right into whatever she was saying.
"I've got a better idea. Why don't we go out back and paint instead. I remember how much you used to enjoy that, and it's beautiful enough now that we shouldn't waste the day traveling to the park."
"That sounds like a good idea Mom. And I wouldn't mind painting with you."
Smiling, I felt her arms wrap around my shoulders as she gave me a tender hug. Yet I was centered on the feel of her warm breasts crushing against my arm. Her nipples dragging along my skin, barely separated by cloth as thin as tissue paper.
Then she was gone, making her way to her studio downstairs to collect the various sundries she would need. I took a few more minutes, before making my way to follow. Those minutes spent adjusting my jeans to hide my once again throbbing erection.
We made quick work of packing up a few paints, her easels, palettes, and some brushes. I got stuck with carrying the heavy stuff, including a couple fresh canvases, before we made our way outside.
It was still warm outside, with only the slight crispness of air that fall brings with it. A light breeze helped keep us cool as we set back up for the day of painting, while it also caused Mother's nipples to pucker and tighten beneath the fabric of her shirt.
While I was transfixed upon those nubbins of flesh, she seemed completely unaware of their rising to attention, nor the effect they were having on my young body.
Pouring random colors on each palette, she went to work. Her attention on a scene of the lake as daylight struck along the water causing it to reflect around thing around it.
I on the other hand, found myself painting Mom. The way she looked, so thoughtful and posed, trying to capture that natural scene before her, was stunningly beautiful. I was lost within it, within the essence of her creative self.
Hours passed, neither one of us speaking as were both in our own little worlds. Caught up in the moment, I was placing a few finishing touches on my painting of my mother when I felt her hot, moist breath against my neck. Blinking back that artistic trance, I turned to see her smiling, staring vehemently at my work.
"Maybe I should have modeled nude for you," she whispered softly. The words sending a shiver of delight down my spine. Then a sudden grunt as she jabbed me lightly in the side.
"Keep teasing like that, and I'll make you." I don't know why I said it, but I did. Those words had been burning up inside of me since she first broached the subject at breakfast. Now, I had to let her know that I liked it. That I wanted to see her naked body.
Her brow arched slightly as her lips pulled into a playful grin. I could tell her mind was working, trying to figure out if I meant what I said, and if I would go through with it if I did. I felt myself come to a precipice. A point of decision that had to be made. A place where I couldn't back down, as it would wound me forever. Suddenly I turned, gently tackling my own mother to the ground. Her yelped was expected, even her giggles of joy as she immediately went into roughhousing with me.
Our bodies rolling around against one another. Pressing, rubbing, grinding as we both tried to take and keep the upper hand. A constant dance round and round as we traded the top position.
