I woke late, which is not my usual, but I was feeling a bit rough. I swallowed 3 ibuprofen and sat in a hot, hot shower for a bit, allowing the scalding water to pound on my aching head. This always makes me feel better. Also, not having to work today helped my mood. I had arranged several days off in the row to spend time with Mom.
Mom. She flashed into my fuzzy head and my body began to respond in its usual manner. That full, heavy feeling in my cock began at once. I sat there idly diddling my balls as I replayed all of the sexy things we had done since that fateful day of her mistake with her computer camera.
Forgoing my usual coffee and Croissant breakfast, I dried, dressed and drove over to Mom's hotel. It might be early for her, but I couldn't resist being in her company another moment. Arriving at her room I let myself in with the spare key and quietly slipped inside. I could make out her form in the darkness of the room. I didn't want to push it too much, so remained fully dressed and lay down on the bed as opposed to getting in the bed.
She stirred a bit as I scooted closed and spooned her.
"Andy." She moaned groggily. "Don't be naughty." Her voice was slightly scolding.
"Not to worry. I promise." I wrapped my arm around her shape, buried under covers, and she moaned happily and scooted closer to me.
"Mmmmm. Morning sweetie love." She murmured happily and then dozed a bit more.
I dozed off again as well, and an hour later awoke to a real desire for coffee. I hugged her tight, kissed the back of her head, whispered that I loved her, and then phoned for coffee, croissants, and fresh fruit to be brought up to us. Then I crawled back onto the bed. Half asleep, Mom grabbed my arm and brought it close around her, placing my hand between her breasts, still on top of the covers though. I could feel her soft mounds close around my hand on both sides though; heaven!
10 minutes later she had to pee.
"I said I have to pee." She reiterated.
"You want me to take one for you?" I joked.
"No. I mean, ... I'm naked." She finally admitted.
"So?" I asked, confused.
After a moment she told me that it might sound silly, but I couldn't see her nude. I was taken aback, then said,
"But I've seen you nude many times by now."
"Not in person, though."
"I'll close my eyes, I promise."
"You'll peek." She told me.
"I might." I joked. "Seriously, I have seen you completely nude and, ... well, ... doing things that, ..."
She turned around to face me with a look that told me that she was still Mom and in charge.
"Really? I can't even peek?"
"Well," she relented, "maybe just a peek." She smiled and then slipped out of bed and padded softly to the bathroom. She was holding her breasts, to cover them, absurdly, but the sight of her gorgeous tushy and she bounced along was enough to energize my cock again. I forgot to close my eyes, so I watched full view and detailed in my mind her sexy back, defined deltoids, narrow waist, sexy defined quads; what a body my mother has. And beautifully tan as well. As she slipped into the bathroom I noted the tan line of her butt. Mom wore a bikini with a fairly modest coverage; lots of white on the adorable bottom.
"Andy, sweetie," she called from the bathroom. "I forgot my toothbrush. Can you bring it from my overnight?" I got up and opened her case, fished around for the brush and paste and headed for the bathroom. The door was open and I was afforded a sight I shall never forget. Mom was sitting on the toilet, completely nude, arms crossed to hide her bare breasts, but she was nude! Completely nude, sitting there in such an intimate pose. This, to me, was as much a turn on as watching her masturbate. The intimacy was surprising.
I left the stuff on the counter and backed out. Mom smiled a thank you. I returned to the bed and got in, rolling the image of her around in my hangover- addled mind. I heard the toilet flush, then water as she brushed, then watched intently for her return. There was a long silent moment where no sound issued from the bathroom. 'What was she doing?' I wondered.
After a long silent pause, Mom emerged walking slowly, head high, not covering anything. Her breasts were gently bouncing and swaying slightly as she walked slowly back to the bed, eyes on mine, pulled back the covers and climbed in. No comment about my having gotten into the bed. She rolled her back to me and scooted back up against me. She reached back took my hand and brought it around her. She kissed my palm and then placed my bare hand between her bare breasts and simply held it there. I was electrified!
"I love you Andy." She said quietly, and then no more was said until the food arrived.
The sun had appeared and the morning was still a bit cool but the veranda was perfect for breakfast. I had room service set up outside, tipped him and closed the door behind him. Mom was watching me the whole time. I went to the closet and pulled out a plush white robe and simply held it up for her. She threw back the covers, exposing herself to my view again and then stood and allowed me to cloak her in the robe.
Little was said as we drank coffee, ate our fill and watched the town coming to life. There was something so purely sensual about gazing at Mom's bare calves and feet and she rested them on the chair next to me. I had seen much of her body, (certainly not to this latest extent), over the years and never once gave it a thought from a sexual standpoint. Now I couldn't imagine not seeing her from a sexual standpoint. What an incredible change this was. She was staring at me.
"We're in trouble, aren't we?" she asked after a long moment.
"Why do you say that?" There was an even longer moment.
"The things that we've been admitting to each other, ... when we're excited, ... and ... you know ..."
"What we want to do, ... and be to each other?" I asked. She nodded. "You're not in trouble with me." I smiled. She didn't. Another long pause ensued. "I admit that it would be difficult if other people knew about this ..."
"Marianne already knows." She cut in.
"No." I countered. "She doesn't know anything."
"Well, ... she suspects." Mom stated.
"What if she does suspect, but doesn't care? Or even better, ... or worse, ... likes the idea, or is turned on by the idea?"
"Did she say something?" Mom asked me.
