Hot Tub MILF Machine

She watched the three tall, strong young men spring out into the air, hanging above the water, before knifing down through the surface where long full-body kicks carried them swiftly down their lanes underwater. The dark haired one in the middle led by a head, but broke soonest for the surface, beginning a long, efficient crawl that churned through the water.

"No!" She grabbed the whistle on its cord between her breasts, blew three loud blasts.

Three wet heads popped up, almost to the far end by the time they stopped. Two were red, the ones who had stayed under longer, maximizing the time and distance spent underwater, avoiding the speed-killing drag of the surface.

"Dude, your mom's pissed now." One redhead said.

"Conner! You had it, honey. The kicks looked strong, you had a good lead on them both. Then you bailed. You've got to stay down there." She ended with her arms out in a shrug. It showed off her toned arms and shoulders in her one piece racing suit, loose shorts pulled over the bottom. Jennifer's nipples pushed though the thin material, but she assumed the swirling print disguised the small shadows. It was a unavoidable truth with racing suits.

"I wish she'd call me 'Honey'." One redhead muttered it as he pulled off his goggles, low enough for only the two other swimmers to hear. He got a splash in the eyes in response from Conner.

The tall redheaded twins surged up from the tiled wall of the old pool, stood dripping on the narrow deck. They had the long-limbed, gently muscled bodies swimming favors, but she was still nearly their height. Like hers, their suits were thin and hid very little. Just part of the sport.

She had set several school records swimming in high school. The small community college where she ran the Ceramics program, filling out her schedule and paycheck with Tennis and Golf classes under the PE department, didn't have a swim team. So when her son, Conner, and the McKinney twins asked her to sponsor a swim club, they got access to the old four lane 25-yard indoor pool, and she got an extra hundred bucks per month to watch them swim. And coach. And swim herself.

"Why'd you two need to leave so early today?" She pulled the whistle over her head, set it on the wood bench. "I can't remember."

The twins looked at each other before answering. "Oh. Dad's usual install guys are on vacation this week. A last minute delivery came up, so we're the backup muscle."

"Well, don't strain your backs or anything. You know Regionals are in less than two weeks." She pulled down her loose shorts, flipped them with one foot onto the bench.

The twins watched her turn, bend at her knees and trim waist, and launch herself out and over the nearest lane ropes to slice into the water of the second lane with almost no splash. She look two long powerful strokes underwater, her head not breaking the surface until she was behind Conner, her son and the only one else left in the pool. She boosted her weight out of the water with a hand on each of his shoulders to dunk him.

The redheaded brothers watched, grinning, both clearly noting the way the position momentarily shoved her chest, her small firm breasts and protruding, hard nipples, out and on display, framed by her own down-pressing arms. Conner did not resist, allowing her sudden weight to shove him down toward the bottom of the the deep end.

Conner felt the silky smoothness of her long toned legs brush by him on his descent. Holding his breath, in the silence of the water as his feet hit the deep diving well's tile bottom, he considered the past month, the changes that had happened since his mom had become the faculty sponsor to their nascent swim club.

He and his mother had always been close, roughhousing and competing as he grew in strength and physical skills. It grew naturally from having an athletic mother and no father-figure around. In Conner's memory, she had never even really dated, saying her son was the only man she needed in her home life.

Then the McTwinneys, as he'd dubbed the McKinney twins, had suggested her for their sponsor. Then she had started spending time with them in the humid, warm enclosed pool area. Had started wearing her old racing suits, and the comments had begun.

Hearing continual comments on how hot his mother was, her body on display to back up the comments, Conner had been trying to keep his growing attraction to her at bay. She looked like one of the tall, sexy beach volleyball players on TV, lean, strong and sexy, and did nothing to hide it, here at the pool, or when the two were alone at home. It didn't help that his girlfriend's family had moved to Florida, a continent away, this past summer. They hoped to be able to see each other, and more than just see, over Christmas. But that was months from now.

He grabbed a trim ankle lazily kicking in the water in front of him. He pulled. It forced her body underwater while helping launch his own back up. He let his hands trail along her legs, felt the nylon of her suit begin as his light touch traveled up her sides. His head broke the surface.

Jennifer barely caught a breath before she was dragged under. The last thing she saw above the surface was the heavy metal door to what passed for the locker rooms swinging closed behind the twins. She relished the strong hands that stroked along her body as she sank. It had been so long since she'd really been touched, touched by a man. Her time around three muscular, barely dressed young athletes had brought feelings, yearnings to the surface. Yearning and feelings she had ignored for years, shoved into a place just out of sight, keeping her focus on raising her Conner. Doing one big thing right.

It shamed her to recognize, deep inside, that it was the dark-haired swimmer, the truly forbidden one, who attracted her most in this dish of eye candy. The twins were aryan models in the making, strong and fair, but it wasn't enough. Her eyes and thoughts would return to the one who had been her little man; her big, strong boy; and had now become in reality the man of the house. Her son. She hadn't realized how attractive he was, how attracted she was, until the last few weeks.

Mother and son continued the workout together, swimming side by side in the water, separated by one narrow lane marker. They did 100s, four lengths of the pool. One she would swim, pacing him, the next she'd rest and watch. She wanted him working on technique, not speed. How he could minimize drag, maximize the distance produced by each stroke, instead of trying to simply power through the water.

He insisted on practicing more starts, with long dolphin kicks underwater, staying down as long as he could, before the session ended. She felt like she waited half an hour for him to finally exit the outside door to the men's locker room, trudging to the car. Then he wanted to stop at the store on the way home and wouldn't tell her why.

Joe McKinney, the twins' father, was pulling out of their neighborhood as she finally turned in. In the big spa store delivery truck, he waved at them.

"I wonder who's getting a hot tub?" She wondered out loud. It reminded her of the gaping, square hole in their redwood deck: the previous owners had built the deck around the spa. When they left the deck stayed, but the spa was not a 'fixture,' so it had been hauled away, leaving the empty cut-out.

The McTwinneys stood waiting by their old Ford pickup in Jennifer's driveway.

"What are you guys doing here? I thought you had a delivery to make." She called out the rolled-down window.

"We did. Check it out." One beckoned with an arm as they headed for the outside steps that led up onto the deck from the driveway. It was a small town and a safe neighborhood; Jennifer had never locked the gate that closed off the steps.

The two redheads were grinning widely when she reached the deck. Her mouth dropped open in shock. A square hot tub, the acrylic a bright swirly blue, erased the hole in the deck, hummed as water churned under the power of the submerged jets.

"Good job, guys." Conner's smile was as big as theirs.

"What the...what's going on? Where did this come from?" Jennifer was bewildered, sputtering.

"The hole in this deck was just dangerous." One twin began and, as they often did, the other finished.

"And Dad's thankful you took on the swim club."

"...so we stay out of trouble."

"This tub came back, just outside the 30 day return period. Old Fart Daniels demanded Dad come pick it up. He said he won't use it any more; he thinks it acquired magic powers."

"Boys! Use the man's name. He's not that old."

Brother two. "He called it the Hot Tub MILF Machine."

Fists on her hips, head tilted to one side, she asked. "MILF? What's that?"

A quick nervous glance passed between the twins, stopped briefly on Conner. Both twins were turning redder than usual. ""Um. A MILF is a mother who is...still attractive."

"Hmm. I don't think I've heard that word before. Is it German?" Conner shook his head. He knew his mother enjoyed playing up the spacy art-teacher persona. The twins didn't know her well enough yet.

One redhead snorted. "Maybe. I don't know the origins of it, exactly."

"Milch is German. For milk." Conner tried to be helpful, or maybe offered a shovel for the twins to dig themselves in deeper. It was up to them.

The other redhead shrugged. "Kinda makes sense."

She looked at her son. He could see how delighted she was with the gesture. And amused with herself. "You knew about this?"

He shrugged. "They told me to buy them some time, to get it over here and set up."

She nodded, considering before asking the twins. "Why did he call it the MILF Machine?"

"Well. He said he used it twice, joined by two different single mothers - he claimed - and things got too hot and horny for him both times. Sorry, but those were his words: 'too hot and horny.' Said his back couldn't take any more."

"Oh. And this is the best part."

His brother broke in. "The magic powers came from a radioactive can of Mountain Dew that was spilled in the ozonator."

"Seriously. Radioactive soda. Where does he get this stuff?"

Everyone laughed but Jennifer. "Exactly. Where did he get the Mountain Dew? We don't know that much about some of the effects of radioactivity."

"Mom!" Son said, laughing. "Radiation does not make hot tubs magical."

Jennifer paused. Turned to him, thoughtful. "You're right. Hot tubs are magical all on their very own."

She continued. "Hot tubs are magical because they can relax muscles, ease a tired mind, and - I've heard it rumored - even cause a son to be respectful and loving enough to rub his mother's feet and shoulders while she soaks in the hopefully non-radioactive waters."

As soon as she ended her pronouncement, as though the act was punctuation, Jennifer stepped out over the water and dropped into the swirling tub, still wearing the pants and t-shirt she had changed into after practice, crouching so she disappeared entirely under the surface.

Conner only had time to move his head to one side, the first step in shaking his head again at his mother's spontaneous ways, before she exploded back up out of the water. Mouth agape. A loud breath inhaled in shock.

"Fu...fuck! That's cold!"

She was up the steps so fast it seemed she had jumped out of the water. The twins' laughter was choked off at the sight of her, drenched, soaked shirt clinging to her fit body, to the thin bra underneath. Somehow, her erect, protesting nipples pushing out through the wet clothes was more forbidden, more salacious, than seeing them through her much thinner swimsuit at practice.

She hugged herself against the sudden cold, unaware she was emphasizing her nipples more. "So...cold."

"Ah. Um. It'll be hot by morning." The twins shrugged in unison.

"Now you tell me." She shivered.

Conner grabbed his thick terry robe off the back of a chair. He had pulled it from the dryer this morning still damp and set it where it would receive all day sun. The dense, heavy cotton took forever to tumble dry. "Here you go."

He held it open for his mother, reached around her from behind to help wrap the belt close. He felt her shiver, a strong shimmy of her shoulders, as she leaned back for an instant against his chest. He caught the scent of her hair, a hint of the chemical something from the water, not chlorine like the pool, over the familiar smell of Mom.

"Thank you, sweetie. That helps." Her hand rested on his. Then she stepped away from him. Each of the twins got a hug of thanks for the surprise delivery.

After the redheads headed down the outside stair, Jennifer shivered again.

"Damn, boy. That water's cold. Give your mama a hug and warm her up." She leaned into him, her arms crossed close in front of her with her hands under her chin, her face tucking in close to the side of his neck.

Conner wrapped his arm around her, held her in silence. He liked the idea of her wearing his robe, that he was responsible for keeping his mother warm.

-----

Conner had trouble sleeping. He didn't want to even touch the hard-on that plagued him, not with images, sensations of his mother running through his head. Her incredible nipples on display. The suggestion that her son rub her feet, massage her shoulders, in the swirling hot waters of the new tub. Most clearly, the feel of his hands on her long wet legs after she dunked him, sliding down their length as he let her push him under, then grabbing them to pull her under in turn. To feel her body slipping down through his hands. So smooth, so sexy, so wrong.

He grunted as hot cum splashed in striped waves over his stomach and chest. His hand had pumped him to climax entirely without his permission. God, his mom was so sexy. He rested one forearm on his brow, his heart beating fast, panting. "I gotta get laid soon."

After that, he must have slept, because he awoke with a start.

"Good morning, sleepy head!" Jennifer greeted his opening eyes after she jumped on his bed. She patted his leg through the covers. "Come on. It's tubbing time."

She stood, grinning. Conner saw she was wearing his robe, the one he had wrapped her in last night. Seeing her in his clothing sent a small tingle through his groin.

"I made coffee." She said it over her shoulder as she headed out of his room. Pausing in the doorway, she loosened the robe, slipped it down off her shoulders and let it drop to the carpet. Conner watched, managed to keep his reaction silent.

Jennifer padded barefoot away without another look back. Conner stared until she disappeared, locking in on the image of her tall, toned body in the high cut black one-piece bathing suit, a maillot. Lean hips showed bare, smooth skin. Her small, firm bottom was displayed to perfection in the fashionable, flattering suit that was a far cry from her usual racing models.

He pulled on the discarded robe after slipping into an older swimsuit. Like every swimmer, he had a drawer full of threadbare speedos in various patterns and team colors, and he was young enough to not yet associate the look with the stereotypical hirsute foreign beach-goers.

She handed him a mug of coffee when he entered the kitchen. He tried to avoid looking too closely at her in the simple, flattering swimsuit.

"No plans for Halloween?"

He had forgotten tonight was the holiday. "Nah. No one's having a party." He shrugged. "I can't trick or treat. Too old."

"You are awfully old." She nodded, with a mock-serious expression, full of concern. "Well, you get to spend All Hallows' Eve with your own personal witch then."

"Witch? You? Mom, you're a princess, a magic fairy maybe, but not a witch."

"Come on." She took his hand, pulled him out toward the tub. The morning air was chilly, but only just. Steamy mist rose from the tub. She released his hand, stepped down into the water. Putting her mug of coffee down, she turned on the pumps, eased down until only her head was above the water, neck supported by the cushion set above a cluster of massaging jets. "I don't know. Some places and times, an unmarried woman with a job was likely to be called a witch. Especially a tall, strong woman like me."

Conner followed her down the steps into the tub. Both to escape the chill, and to hide the growing arousal his mother was causing. The maillot she wore showcased her body from her long legs to her round, athletic bottom to her strong, lean feminine neck and shoulders. But especially her bottom, the way she had dropped the robe, walking away from his bedroom. And even more especially her breasts and the nipples which peaked them, already clearly defined, but crinkling outward through the thin-stretched black fabric harder once they hit the chill outside air.

He sat on the molded seat opposite her, swallowed a mouthful of his coffee and set it on the deck close to hand. He leaned back, not quite awake yet. His eyes opened wide when he felt her foot stroke across his ankle under the swirling water.

Her shoulders and head bobbed slightly as she moved closer to him, following the squared circle of the tub. The foot left his ankle, reappeared at his knee before vanishing again. Her head settled at an angle on the cushion nearest his seat and he felt both of her calves settle onto his thigh. She had very defined, developed calf muscles, elongated barefoot in a way most women - and men who wanted the look - needed very high heels to achieve. A McTwinney had gone into detail about them days ago, as part of a broader discussion between the brothers about her legs.

"Rub my feet, sweetheart. Please." She didn't use her pouty lower lip often, but he had never been able to resist it, even as a small child. He just couldn't let Mom be unhappy if it was in his power to fix.

He'd rubbed her feet countless times before. Almost a ritual for them. Whenever they watched a movie on the couch, her feet appeared in his lap. He knew where they ached, where she moaned in relief and asked for more, where to go gently, or use extra pressure, or avoid all together. He could do it with little thought or attention, hands moving with their own confident knowledge, listening to her feet and body respond without conscious help.

This felt nothing like that. Conner's mind raced while another part of his body responded without his conscious decision. He wrapped his near arm over and around both lower legs, turning his body away from her. Cradling her smooth calves this way, he could both rub her feet with two hands and keep the erection caught awkwardly in his swimsuit private.

"Mm. That feels good, hon." Jennifer purred. "But why don't you turn around and face me? So I can see you?"

"Alright, Mom."

Conner held her crossed ankles in one hand under the water while he shifted to the seat directly across from hers. If he sat on the edge of the seat, her legs stretched just the right distance to reach him.

Just the right distance for Jennifer's head to rest on the padded cushion while her body floated at the surface, supported by Conner's control of her feet.

"That's it." She slurred the words.

He could see the soles of her feet this way, and past them. His mother's eyes were closed, her lips parted in a look of bliss. Unlike previous foot rubs, this one required his conscious attention and his mind was failing him. Distracted by things like the curves of her small breasts, diminished more by her current position but still clearly defined in the thin, wet material as she arched. The nipples that crowned the small peaks, they seemed harder now, swollen.

She moaned and arched more as he stretched one foot between both hands, thumbs pressed next to one another into the meat of the sole. She looked and sounded exactly like a woman in the midst of sexual delight. A beautiful woman giving in to pleasure. A woman Conner more and more wished he could possibly...