The Tub

The Tub

By

Promithius

I never knew my father, although I was named after him. Mom, whose name is Corinne is a big woman, not fat, definitely not fat, in my view well proportioned, extremely well proportioned, and a perfect fit for one of my favorite saying. "Built for comfort and not for speed". Standing 5' 10" in her stocking feet her vital statistics, waist 32", having measured one of her skirts, breasts 44" from her "G" cup bra, confirmed via the laundry basket, and a hip size I can't be sure of, but guess around 46".

I have seen photographs of her when she was younger, before I was born and she was much thinner, I would even go as far as saying she was skinny, when you consider how tall she is. Mom is very attractive and other men find her so, although they're not generally looking at her face. She has a very pretty face and delicious long brown hair and an eye catching backside you could die for. In truth I had fantasized about her for several years before actually doing something about it.

Father left us when I was very young. As far as I could gather he only married mom because he got her pregnant at college, and then left us after he finished college and gained decent employment. I was about three years old. Mom on the other hand never finished college because she had me to look after. My understanding that things in those times were very tough for her, we were not on the poverty line, but, not far from it.

After my father left we had to move out of a decent apartment and move into a cheap one room apartment with mom having to find employment. We were lucky in some respect because mom was accepted in a clothing factory basically packing the clothes for delivery. Over the years mom progressed through the company to become one of the company's top seamstress. For several years while mom was at work I was looked after by the family that lived in the apartment beneath us.

When I was seven my maternal grandmother died, and we moved in with my retired grandfather, who then looked after me while mom was working. Since we were living in my grandfather's house, our financial situation improved quite dramatically, or so I thought. Grandfather had his pension, mom was bringing in a salary as well as cooking and looking after the house, things were looking up. Grandfather died when I was twelve leaving mom with considerable debts, so we were back to square one. That's not quite true because we did have somewhere decent to live, although several times mom was nearly forced into selling the house to pay off his debts.

Being a highly capable seamstress, mom continues to work for the company, but also, having her own work room in the house did private work as well, providing the customer supplied a pattern or picture with measurements. Although mother makes most of her own clothes, she is not creative, her sense of fashion is non-existent, and the clothes she makes for herself appears to make her look on the frumpy side.

I was eighteen, and it was during the summer recess between my leaving high school and starting college when I recognized mom's body was deliciously proportioned. The clothes she made for herself were unable to restrict the movement of those generous fleshy areas of her body. I would continually check her out watching her breast and backside bouncing and shuddering beneath her clothes. Occasionally, when she wore a specific dress with a fairly "V" shape plunging neckline you could see the flesh of her upper breasts rippling as she walked. I was not alone in watching this wondrous sight, out in the big world she would turn many a head. My lust for her at that time was so painful I didn't need to look at magazines to pleasure myself, I had my own fleshy temptress close by.

It was the final summer break before my last year in college when we would take advantage of the warm weather and sit in the backyard. Mom for the first time had daringly bought herself a bikini and would wear it sitting close to me. It played on my emotions and it was then when I realized I had fallen in love with her. Everything came to a head months after I had finished college. At college I had been living away from home for four years, but had returned home and was living with mom.

Late Sunday evenings when I was in bed, mom would have a long soak in the family bathroom tub, because the en-suite in her bedroom only had a shower. Occasionally I would hear muffed moans and groans, sometimes getting louder, which I assumed was caused by her pleasuring herself. Obviously, she must have been sexually frustrated, if only a little, so I decided to see just how far I could push her, hoping that we could become lovers. The following morning I questioned her.

"Mom, did you use the tub in the family bathroom last night?"

I'm positive she blushed when I asked her.

"Yes I did why did I disturb you?"

"No but I thought I heard the bathroom door, is your shower not working."

The bathroom door had squeaked for some time, mom kept asking me to do something about it.

"My shower is fine, but Sunday night when you're in bed is about the only time in the week that I can truly relax. You're quite demanding and I forever seem to be busy doing things or running around after you."

"Oh I'm sorry, you must have enjoyed your time while I was away at college."

"Quite the reverse, I missed you so much, and hated being on my own, because I love doing things for you."

I kissed her on the cheek.

"I missed you too, and I'll sort that squeak out."

It was time to plan my next move. If I could eliminate the squeak and lubricate the latch, perhaps, while she relaxed in the tub with her back to the door, I could open it and film her on my cell. The next weekend I fixed the door and practiced opening and closing it quietly.

It was several weekends later when I again heard the muffled sounds. With my cell programed to record I crept out and quietly opened the bathroom door. There was mom lying in the tub with one hand squeezing and pulling on her extraordinary large nipple to stretch her breast and the other, from what I could see with three fingers flashing in and out of her pussy. In her mouth was the face cloth acting as a gag to deaden the noise. She was much too occupied to notice me as I recorded everything up to the point where she was thrashing around, nearly forcing the water out of the tub as she orgasmed before collapsing.

After college I was fortunate having found a decent position with a large local company, which enabled me to bring home a second wage packet which had a considerable effect on the household finances. Mom no longer had to struggle to make ends meet, in fact we were able to enjoy the finer things in life, occasionally going to a restaurant or the theatre.

In all the years we had been together I had never known her to have a boyfriend, or go out with the girls, in fact I can never remember her going out on a date. That's not to say she hadn't been out with men. I wasn't with her 24/7 in fact she may well have dated while I was away at college but she never said anything. There were times when she seemed lonely and I always assumed during those times she wanted to do something about it but never had the courage.

Life for me began to change when one Saturday night I had a serious row with Lisa, my girlfriend of nine months. All day Sunday I had been moping around, thinking seriously about breaking up with her. Mother didn't help as I watched her flitting around the house wearing that dress with the plunging neckline that did wonders for her breasts and backside, causing immediate arousal.

Sunday evening we were both in the sitting room, mother was reading and I was working on my laptop.

"Darling are you ok, is there something wrong?"

"No I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine, are you sure there's nothing wrong?"

"I've already told you I'm ok."

"Alright you don't have to be so belligerent, you've been snapping at me all day, I know there's something wrong. You can talk to me you know."

"That's the problem I can't talk to you."

"Darling you can talk to me about anything."

"Mom you're a woman, there are some things that I cannot talk to you about, so let's leave there shall we."

"Darling it doesn't matter what the subject is, or how embarrassing it may be, you can talk to me about anything. It may be embarrassing for you and it may even be embarrassing for me but no matter, we should talk about it regardless."

"Are you sure you want to discuss my problem, you may not like it. It could even upset you. You may even become angry and come to hate me."

I knew my words would arouse her curiosity, and she wouldn't be satisfied until I had provided her with all the relevant information.

"Darling I'm the only parent you have and I wouldn't be much of one if you couldn't talk and confide in me. Now what's upsetting you?"

I sat there for a couple of minutes, head bowed looking as if I was weighing up the pros and cons about telling her. Suddenly I lifted my head and spirted out, "I'm breaking up with Lisa."

"Why darling what happened?"

"We had an argument last night and I just don't want to go out with her anymore."

"You've had arguments before, that didn't seem to make a difference, why did it this time, is there someone else?"

"Yes"

"Who, do I know her?"

"Mom you said we can talk about anything. Now I've started to confide in you but before I tell you any more, I need to know a few things about you. Since dad left and as far as I can remember you have never had a boyfriend or even been out on a date. But I've not been with you all the time and especially while I was at college so I don't know what you have been up to. So as romance goes what is the situation?"

"I don't think that's any of your business do you Pete?"

"No that's fine, I'll accept that, but the same applies to you, what I do is none of your business." I stood up, picked up my laptop and went up to my bedroom.

Most of the following week we spent avoiding each other and when we were in the same proximity the atmosphere was very strained and unusually quiet. It was Saturday night that signs of normality began to appear. I was up in my bedroom mother was downstairs. I heard her footsteps on the stairs before the knock on the door.

"Please Pete can I come in?"

"If you must."

The door opened mom walked and sat on my bed head bowed. "I can't go on like this."

"Ok, do you want me to move out?"

Her head shot up. "Good god of course I don't want you to move out."

Mom started crying. Through her sobs she said that she had come up intending to resume last week's discussions, she wanted us to finish our conversation. I moved next to her, put my arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Mom briefly smiled at me and wiped away her tears.

"Last week you asked me if I'd a boyfriend or been out on dates, well I've certainly not had a boyfriend, but have over the years had a couple of dates. The Problem is the men who asked me out always seem to have an alternative agenda which made it difficult for me to trust them, so I just stopped going out."

"So are you off men altogether?"

"No of course not, if I can ever find a trust worthy guy that's interested in me I'd still consider a relationship."

"Are you looking for a relationship, do you miss the companionship and physical presence of a man?"

"Yes to those questions, is there anything else you would like to know?"

"No, not for the moment."

"Good now I can ask my questions. So who is this girl you spoke about?"

"Well she's not actually a girl, more a mature woman."

"A mature woman, how much more mature than you, and do I know her?"

"She's roughly half my age again and I'm not sure whether you know her."

"Are you serious about this woman?"

"Yes very, in fact I'm thinking about asking her to marry me."

"I'm sorry Pete, but that sounds like a recipe for disaster."

"Mom knowing me as you do, and assuming I wasn't your son, if I asked you out on a date would you go?"

"Probably."

"If we had been together for some time, and found that we were compatible and enjoyed each other's company, and I asked you to marry me, would you?"

"That is an unfair question because as we are at the moment I'm inclined to say yes, however, if this was an actual true situation I'm not quite so sure what my answer would be."

"I must admit mom thinking about proposing makes me nervous, perhaps I could practice on you, what do you think? Come to think of it I have never seen you wear an engagement ring or wedding band, I assume that you must have a wedding band but an engagement ring I'm not so sure."

"You're right I do have a wedding band and an engagement ring."

"If it's not too painful for you, could we practice with the engagement ring?"

"Darling I'm not happy about this older woman thing, but I suppose there's not a lot I can do about it, except warn you to be careful and be absolutely sure this is what you want before asking her."

Mom left my bedroom and returned, box in hand, about thirty seconds later, she must have known exactly where it was located. "It was my grandmother's engagement ring." It was quite a piece with a large stone which I assumed was a diamond.

"Mom sit on the bed and let me practice on you. Tell me if I'm doing anything wrong or there's something that I could improve on."

Mom sat down and after holding the box in my left hand went down on one knee flipped the box open and said. "Corinne will you marry me and become my wife?" She never spoke, just looked at me in dismay as tears welled up in her eyes. "Come on mom keep up, give a reply." Her head dropped and as she stared at the floor and said. "Yes darling I will marry you."

I stood up, cupped her chin in my hands, raised her head so she was looking at me, then bent over and gave her a prolonged passionate kiss on the lips. It must have taken her by surprise because for the first few seconds she accepted my kiss. It was when I started feeling her breast that she struggled, first trying to push my hand away from her breast while at the same time trying to break our kiss.

"What the hell do you think you are doing? Don't you dare touch me in that way, tell me why I shouldn't slap your face?"

"If you slap my face I'll put you across my lap and give you a spanking."

"You wouldn't dare. If you lay a hand on me I'll have you arrested for assault."

Even before she finished talking she was across my lap. The first slap was hard, probably harder than I had intended. Mom screamed out in pain, although I think it was more of a shock than anything else. The second slap was not quite so hard but from her reactions it was still painful, and she began to lash out.

We had one hell of a struggle, but after five minutes she was exhausted and all the fight had gone out of her. She was stretched across the bed face down, and I was lying on top of her. My hands were beneath her, cupping her breasts, her dress was rucked up exposing most of the back of her upper leg, and my manhood was snuggled between the cheeks of her backside. Her hair was messed up, almost covering her face, it was a beautiful sight to behold. While she was trapped beneath me it was an opportune moment to share the feelings I had for her, so I whispered in her ear.

"Let me tell you when I first fell in love with you. When I was eighteen I lusted after your body, I loved to watch your tits and ass bounce around beneath your clothes. This lasted until the summer break, a year before I finished college. Only then did I realize that I had fallen in love with you. I was determined to make you my wife and that will happen, it may take a while, because I am the man of the house and you are the woman. I'm now going to let you up, I'm sure you got the message."

As she stood before me the look on her face was one of intense disgust. Suddenly her hand shot out and struck me hard across the face then she immediately left my room.

Lisa rang me at work during the week asking if we could meet, we agreed a meeting place on neutral territory at 7pm the following Saturday.

I left the house that Saturday evening without mom knowing, due to a second week of not talking and avoiding each other. After talking with Lisa I went to the movies which I hadn't done for quite a while.

It was late when I got home and was surprised to find mom still up and waiting for me.

"Where have you been until this time you never said anything about going out?"

I was in no mood to talk to her, so I just kept walking making my way to my room.

"Lisa phoned asking for you, I said you were out. Apparently you met her this evening and told her that you were breaking up with her, and that you were in love with another woman. I want to know who this woman is that you're in love with."

Why would mom talk to me like that after pouring my heart out to her? I looked down and noticed she was still wearing her grandmother's engagement ring.

"Did you not understand that you was the central character in the proposal, you did participate, now I want to know if you are happy for the couple?"

Mom was aware my question was loaded more than it first seemed, she knew the answer would determine our future relationship, and she couldn't be sure how it would affect my future plans. She raised her left hand and checked the ring on her finger, possibly wondering why it still remained there.

"I realized after, the engagement was directed at me, at the time your actions were a little too personal, but now I am gradually becoming to accept that our relationship is changing. I am happy for the couple, although I was surprised that they felt that way about each other. I can see it taking a little time for them to get to know each other romantically, they need to take it very slowly."

Take it slowly indeed, not if I can help it. She had already intimated that she is prepared to become my wife, so sex must be in her thoughts somewhere. It's just that I am more impatient than she is. I convinced myself to start dropping hints whenever mom gave me the slightest opportunity. That came quicker than I expected when she said that she was going to take a bath and soak in the tub. Considering the discussion we just had, why would she take a bath so late at night, in the family bathroom, when she has her own en-suite in her bedroom? Admittedly she only has the shower, but it seemed like a great opportunity to start persuading her to undress for me.

"Yes ok, in fact I could do with a bath perhaps we could take one together."

"What did you say?"

"I said that I would like a bath and perhaps we could take one together."

"Pete, that's not nice, what on earth would make you say something like that?"

"Well we are always being told that we must save water and that would save quite a lot."

"If you want to save water you'll have to look for other alternatives. I've never heard anything like it."

By then I'd gone too far to back down. "Perhaps you should let me come up and undress you."

"If you don't stop this foolishness immediately I'll slap your face again."

"I'm sorry let me make it up to you by washing your back."

"Pete I'm going to lock the bathroom door so you cannot possibly get in. I just don't know what's got into you."

With that she walked out the room and slammed the door behind her. The whole thing was pretty intense but a least I believed she got some sort of message, with me getting away unscathed. Things were a little awkward during the following week, although slowly everything returned to normal, well not quite normal.

It was late evening on the following Saturday we were sitting in the family room when mom rose and was almost out of the door before announcing that she intended to have a bath then go straight to bed. I just couldn't resist it and shouted out.