Burning Issue

"They're looking good, Gary. If you'll just sit quietly, Doctor Evans shouldn't be long. She's checking another burns patient at the moment." The sister turned to Mum. "How are your burns, Ms Welch? They look good to me."

"Healing nicely, I think, Sister, thank you."

"Good. Now, sorry, but the next bit is just waiting. Doctor Evans will be with you as soon as she can, I'm sure." And she went out. I don't think we waited more than five minutes before Doctor Evans came in. I'd spent most of that period just examining my hands. Still red, and rather tender, but the skin was smooth and healing seemed to be well under way.

Doctor Evans took my hands in hers, examining them carefully, then smiled at me.

"I thought when you had your dressings changed the other day, before I let you go home, that you were healing well, and you are. On your solemn promise that for the next month you won't try to handle anything heavier than a knife and fork, or possibly a keyboard, I'm going to let you go home without new dressings. I am going to ask you to wear some light cotton gloves for protection, but otherwise we'll let nature take its course. Now, here, catch," and she reached into her pocket and threw something towards me. Reflexively, I caught it, and the doctor smiled. "Good catch."

I examined the object. A fairly soft, but resilient, sponge-rubber ball. Doctor Evans went on, "There's a danger that if you don't use your hands at all, the new skin might dry tight. Just squeeze the ball a few times every hour, just to exercise the hands, and you should be okay. Understood? And I mean all of my instructions. Well?"

"Nothing heavier than a knife and fork, or keyboard, wear the gloves, presumably not when I'm getting washed, though, and use the ball to exercise my fingers. Correct?"

"That's right. Now, back to the waiting area. The nurse will bring the prescription for the gloves, and some ointment I want you to rub in after washing, and last thing at night. I won't ask you to come back for a month, but if you have problems, come back and see me. The staff will have instructions that you should be seen, even without an appointment. Okay?"

"The gloves and ointment, Doctor? Hospital pharmacy?" Mum asked. Doctor Evans gave us a rueful smile.

"Yes, of course. Sorry, I should have said."

"No problem, Doctor Evans. You're a busy lady."

"That, I am, and I'm going to have to leave you and go to see my next patient, so goodbye, and we'll see you in a month. We'll send you the appointment through the post. Bye now."

And she was off, a very nice lady, and -- in my experience -- an excellent doctor. We only waited a few minutes before the nurse brought the prescription, and we set off towards the pharmacy. On the way, we passed the coffee shop, only half full, and Mum paused.

"There's no point in both of us going to the pharmacy. You get us a couple of coffees, and I'll hie myself to the pharmacy. Got money for the coffee?"

"Sorry, Mum, no."

"Here's a ten. Back soon." She gave me a little wave and set off towards the pharmacy. I headed towards the counter and studied the list of drinks available. I knew Mum liked latte, and I'd developed a taste for black coffee. When the girl behind the counter turned to me I was ready.

"Medium latte and large Americano, black, please."

"Drink here or take away?"

"Drink here, please." She nodded, smiled and turned back to the coffee machine, and a moment or two later she passed me a small tray with the two coffees. She pointed.

"Till's over there."

"Thanks," I said, but she was already turning to the next customer. I paid for the coffees and took them to a table where I could see the door. I'd barely tasted my coffee before Mum appeared at the door, looking around for me. I waved and she smiled, making her way across.

"Take your time, son, there's a slight delay. They have to get your gloves from storage. Be about twenty minutes, she said."

"No sweat, Mum, it's just great to be able to pick up a normal cup!"

"I'll bet," she said, laughing. We chatted for a while, enjoying the coffee and I revelled in the fact that the dressings were gone.

"How are your hands, Gary? You look a little awkward." There was an expression of gentle concern on her face and I hastened to reassure her.

"Fine, Mum, honest. They're a little tender, yes, and I feel the heat from the cup a little too easily. Maybe the gloves will help."

"I'm sure they will." She glanced at her watch. "It's been almost thirty minutes, so as we have to pass the pharmacy on the way to the car park, let's go."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Clown," she said, laughing, and stood up. I followed suit and we set off for the pharmacy. Everything was ready, waiting for us and ten minutes later we'd paid the car park ransom and were on our way home.

"How about stopping off at the Rose and Crown for lunch?" said Mum. "Celebrate the dressings coming off?"

"That is the best idea I've heard for a long time, Mum. Yes, please!"

We enjoyed our lunch, for the landlord's wife at the Rose and Crown is a more than competent cook, and liked nothing better than to try out her recipes on the inn's customers. Our choice on this occasion was a rich beef stew, or rabbit pie and we both opted for the pie, having eaten our own stew only the previous evening. As usual with Sarah Fenwick's cooking, the meal was delicious, and we followed it with a rhubarb crumble and custard, equally delicious.

Back in the car, before she started the engine, Mum turned to me.

"Any plans for when we get home, sweetheart?"

"Only one at the moment, Mum, a swim!"

She laughed. "Skinny-dip?"

"If you'll join me? Okay, even if you don't, yes. I want to feel the water against my skin." Again, because Jenny and I skinny-dipped together once, and it was great.

"Well, take it from me, son, it feels great swimming naked." She grinned. "And yes, I'll join you, if you don't mind."

"Of course not, Mum, you're absolutely gorgeous in your skin."

"Thank you," she said, softly, then smiled. "You're not so bad yourself."

"And thank you, too. Okay, chauffeur -- or should that be chauffeuse? Whatever, get us home, because I want to feel the water!"

"Yes, sir!" Mum grinned, started the engine, and we were off. It didn't take long, because we were only about ten miles from home, and we were soon indoors. Mum turned on the radar announcer for the driveway and turned to me, smiling.

"Just in case we're interrupted while we're naked."

"Absolutely! Okay, Mum, I'll take myself off upstairs and take my clothes off."

"Hang on a sec." Mum rummaged in the bag from the pharmacy, then handed me two packs of gloves. "Keep those in your dresser. I'll put the others away down here, along with the ointment. You can put some on your hands after your swim, okay?"

"Are we going to stay naked after our swim?"

"Do you want to?"

I grinned. "Very much, I like ogling my mother."

She laughed. "Pervert! Okay, we'll stay naked. At least, until it's time to prepare something to eat later. Nothing substantial, because we can probably live off Sarah Fenwick's pie for a couple of days!"

"Too true. Okay, mum, see you in the pool, but, say in about half an hour or so? You mentioning Sarah's pie reminded me -- it's not a good idea to go swimming too soon after eating."

"Very true, it's not. I have a couple of things I want to do anyway, so yes, I'll see you in the pool in half an hour or so." She turned away and I made my way up to my room, quickly shedding my clothes. I opened one of the packs of gloves and took a pair out, shutting the others away in a drawer of my dresser.

With half an hour to kill, I did a quick check of my emails. Nothing important, so I got out my camera bag. Although I still occasionally used film in my solid old Canon F1N, I'd succumbed to the lure of digital and had been given a Nikon D5200 by Mum for my eighteenth birthday, and had since acquired a used D90 in excellent condition as a backup. I was still getting used to digital photography but I liked the immediacy of it compared to film.

I took out the D5200 and attached the 18-70mm lens. That should do for some pool shots of Mum naked. Well, she had agreed to pose, hadn't she? I paused, thinking, and took out the 50mm f1.8 lens as well, and fitted it to the D90. With the camera's DX sensor, the equivalent of a 75m lens on full-frame cameras, and if I used it wide open I could throw the background out of focus. Whistling, I took myself back downstairs with the cameras and gloves. I still had about ten minutes before the half-hour was up, so I relaxed in the armchair with a photography magazine.

I heard movement on the staircase and looked up to see Mum, naked, carrying a towel. She smiled.

"Ready to swim, son?"

"Absolutely, but before we do, those nude photos?"

"What about them? I told you yes."

"Yes, Mum, you did, but I have my cameras here, and I'd like to take a few before we get in the pool, and some more of you in the water."

"You would, would you? I suppose you wouldn't give me time to add some make-up and tidy my hair?"

"Of course, but you look great as you are." I laughed. "Anyway, your hair is so short it's self-tidying! So? Are we good to go?""

Mum grinned. "I look great as I am, eh? Sure you're not biased?"

"Of course I'm biased, my mother is a beautiful woman, but I'm speaking as an objective photographer, not as her son."

"Of course you are, dear, of course you are. Okay, where do you want me?"

I suppressed the instant lustful thoughts that crowded my mind, and gestured across the room. "I like to use natural light where possible, but if we go outside the sunlight is so bright you'd be squinting. Next best thing is window light, the window over there is big enough to light you, and it's north-facing so the light will be softer. Okay?"

"Beside the window? Okay, then."

Mum had been carrying her towel across her crooked forearm, obscuring her lower body, but she cast it aside as she moved over to the window and I delighted in watching the tick-tock roll of her bottom as she moved. Beside the window, she turned towards me and I gasped.

"Mum, when did you do that?" The last time I'd seen Mum naked, she'd had a neat bush of pubic hair, but now her mons was shaved clean, her cleft clearly visible. She glanced down, flushing slightly.

"You mean this?" she said, gesturing towards her mons.

"Yes, that," I said. "Or is it none of my business?"

"No, it's not, but I might tell you later, if you behave yourself. But for now, mister photographer, you wanted some nude shots, so let's go!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

The session was fun, Mum responding easily to my direction. I was fighting hard to keep John Thomas from getting hard, but even so I had a partial erection, especially as a couple of times as Mum changed position I caught a glimpse of her pussy. At last I straightened up and switched the camera off.

"Okay, Mum, pool now. I think a swim will do me good, get the kinks out, and then I'll take a few shots of you in the water. Okay?"

"Okay, son. Maybe later, after we've had something to eat -- something light after that pie we had for lunch -- after we've eaten, perhaps we can look though the photos together on your computer." She grinned. "After all, your monitor is bigger than mine."

"No problem, Mum. Do you want a copy of them for yourself?"

She looked surprised, but pleased. "Yes, please. I never thought of that."

"Well, the pictures are of you, after all. It seems only fair that you should have them available any time you want to look at them, without needing to find me and get access."

"Too true. So, son, swim time?"

"Swim time."

"Okay, grab a towel from the airing cupboard as you go past."

I was ready for a swim after so long without one. I missed it almost as much as I'd missed my daily shower. Of course, already being naked saved a moment or two of undressing time, and within about thirty seconds of leaving the house, Mum and I were ready at the poolside. I'd grabbed the D5200 as we left the house and I did a quick check of the light, then tweaked the ISO setting up a little and set the camera down.

"Want to race?" Mum asked with a grin.

"Race?" I said, then laughed. "I know why you shaved, now. It was to reduce drag, wasn't it?"

She winked. "Of course! Well? Race or not?"

"Winner gets what?"

She sobered, a spot of high colour in her cheeks, and her eyes came to mine. "The winner can ask of the loser any task which it is in their power to perform," she said softly, almost whispering.

I stared at her for a moment, excitement building in me, thinking of the diary entry I'd read. I licked my suddenly dry lips. "Any task?"

She nodded. "Any task which is in the loser's power to perform, yes."

I took a deep breath. "Okay."

"How about twenty lengths, any stroke of your choice, dive start?"

I nodded. "That sounds fair to me, Mum. Ready?"

"Yep. Count of three, go on three? That okay?"

"Sounds fair, let's do it!"

"You can call it, son."

"Sure?"

"Of course."

"Okay, then On your mark... get set... one... two... three!"

And we were off, almost exactly together. At first, I pulled ahead, but I'd been immobilised in hospital for almost a month and my lack of exercise told on me. Gradually Mum caught up and then pulled ahead until, at the end of the twentieth length of our pool, she touched first, about half a body length ahead of me. She turned to me, a happy smile on her face.

"I guess I win, sport!"

"You certainly do, Mum, you certainly do. And just what do you win, eh?"

She sobered. "I'll tell you after we shower and get dried, okay?" She grinned. "Want to shower together? You can wash my back and no, that's not my prize. I'd just like it if you would."

"Sure thing." Although I'd rather wash your front.

"Okay, then, but didn't you want to take some photos of me in the pool?"

"Duh, yes! I'd better dry my hands, water and electronics don't mix."

A task easily accomplished, and I picked up the camera, turning back to Mum as she stood at the poolside, beads of water still standing on her skin. I couldn't resist it and took a couple of quick shots, Mum easily moving into my suggested poses. I lowered the camera.

"Mum, I want to try an action shot, so will you dive into the pool for me? I might need to have you do it again if it doesn't work first time."

"Not a problem, honey. Okay, then, here?"

"There will do fine. Okay, ready? Go!"

Needless to say, the first attempt didn't work, but the great advantage of digital cameras over film is that the results can be assessed immediately, and after five or six dives, I got what I thought were good shots. It might have been better if we'd had a diving board, but when we'd had the pool constructed we'd opted for keeping it relatively shallow, about five feet, to keep construction costs down.

Mum was still in the water and I signalled that she should stay in. She floated on her back and looked enquiringly at me.

"Okay, Mum, just swim up and down for a while. Keep changing the stroke, and make some of them back stroke, okay?"

"Okay, son."

"And proper racing turns, please?"

Mum grinned. "Slave driver."

I got some great shots from that session, especially of some of the turns, and debated briefly with myself whether to enter any of them in competitions, but I'd promised Mum that only we would see them, and I pride myself on being a man of my word. Besides, she'd skin me alive if I broke my promise; on those shots, particularly.

I didn't really know at the time they were great shots, but the LCD screen on the camera gave us a good idea when I flipped though them, Mum standing dripping beside me. When we'd looked through them, Mum turned to me, smiling.

"Looking good, Mister Photographer, I'm looking forward to seeing them on your monitor."

"Me, too, Mum." I paused, but I'd been thinking, and I went on. "I think I'd like to see if I can take some underwater shots, but that means either an underwater camera, or a waterproof case for the Nikon."

"Expensive?"

I shrugged. "No idea, but I'll have a browse online later, see what I can find out."

"Okay, but for now? A shower?"

"Sounds good."

"Come on, then, you can wash my back."

"I'd rather wash your front," I said, and it was only Mum's look of startled shock that made me realise that this time I'd said it aloud.

"Oh, fuck! Mum, I'm...," I was about to offer a shame-faced apology when Mum held up a hand to stop me.

"It's okay," she whispered, then gave me a wry, sort of embarrassed, smile. "It's wrong, I know, but I understand." She half-laughed, half-snorted. "Heck, I've been jacking you off while I'm naked every day, so I can understand your frustration, but for now, shower!" She turned away, and began heading for the shower, a three-sided cubicle with only a curtain for privacy, and again I admired the tick-tock roll of her bottom as she moved away.

"Stop admiring my arse and get yourself over here," she said, not even turning her head. I laughed, and followed her.

The shower beside the pool always starts on the cold side, so I reached in to turn the water on and we both stood back for a moment to let it warm up, then I slid the curtain aside and followed Mum in. Once we were both in, I pulled the curtain across -- to contain the splashing rather than privacy, given that we were the only people there -- and we took turns to get ourselves wet. Mum reached for the shower gel and took a generous dollop in her palm.

"Turn around, son, and let me wash your back."

I turned, and she began to rub the gel into my shoulders, my back, my butt -- and that was an enjoyable few moments as she made sure I was clean there -- and my legs. Of course, because it was my mother, my naked mother, washing me, John Thomas came up to look around and check what was going on.

"Okay, honey, turn around and let me do your front. Oh! Huh, typical, the never-ending erection rises again," said Mum, but she was laughing. "You have the use of your hands again, so don't let me stop you, or do you want me to jack you off again?"

I laughed. "You need to ask?"

She laughed. "I suppose I should have known. Tell you what, wash JT yourself, we'll finish here, and I'll wank you on my bed, where we can both be comfortable. Okay?"

"Very okay, Mum."

"Before you wash your front, wash my back, please?"

"Sure, just pass the gel." A task quickly accomplished, and I squeezed a generous glob of gel into my hand. "Okay, Mum, brace yourself!" She giggled and I began to rub the gel onto her shoulders, her neck, her upper back. About to rub gel onto her bottom, I paused.

"It's okay, honey, do my butt as well, please, and my legs." A firm, beautifully toned butt, too, and strong, slender legs, and I relished my task.

"Okay, Mum, rinse off now." It didn't take but a moment or two to rinse off the gel, and when I'd finished rinsing her off, she turned to me, a spot of colour in her cheeks. She was biting her lip, and just as I was about to ask her what was bothering her, she took my hand.

"Gary, honey?"

"Yes, Mum?"

She paused a long while before she spoke, and I almost had to strain to hear her. "Before, when you said you'd rather wash my front?"

"God, Mum, I'm so sorry about that. I - "

She stopped me in mid-flow by simply putting her hand across my mouth. "I told you, honey, I understand." She bit her lip again, then lifted her eyes, holding my gaze. "Gary, it's been too long, too damned long. I -- I -- I want to feel a man's hands on me, a man I love and who loves me. It's been too long, so yes, son, please wash my front as well as my back."

"You're sure?" I could hardly speak for the lump in my throat.

"Hell, no, I'm not, but do it before I chicken out. I'm scared, honey, scared of where it might lead, but at the moment I want nothing more than to feel your hands on me. So do it, honey, do it now!"