Lingerie Intimacy with My Son

On a whim, I turned my face heavenward and closed my eyes. I drew a deep breath. And then, I reopened my eyes, searched for that special place in the sky that always pleased Seb and me when he, as a twelve year old, used to sit with me on the beach skygazing.

My breasts raised up to the sky. Seb's shadow stretched long and lean across the sand. My eyes, now closed.

Dusk. I loved to cuddle on his lap. I listened to him breathe. My head rested on his shoulder. Entwined my long fingers within his. I loved these times. So simple. Yet, so memorable.

I was raised a beach girl. I would be used to the charms of the ocean by now. But no. The ocean at night. The waves crashing on the shore. The moon glistening off its surface. lt all seemed magical and mysterious. This was as good as it gets.

I was pleased and sad.

I gave him my open mouth. I felt his hands on me. It was a long time since my blood surged like that. It was a beautiful night. He was a perfect gentleman. So far, and no further.

I looked at him. I saw that he had read the unvoiced part of what I wanted to say but couldn't.

"I want to be held and told my name. Take off my clothes. Touch me like it is the first and last time. Breathe my secret feminine air. But, we mustn't..."

***

My eyes flickered. It was night. We had drifted to sleep on the towel mat on the beach. How long had we dozed off? Seb was still sleeping. His breathing soft, sounding like tiny bellows.

Curiously, I had smoke on my mind. I could still feel it in my mouth, drawn down deep into my lungs, filling me in a long rich dirty cinnamon sigh. And then, the rush as the nicotine hit the bloodstream. A residual rolling anticipation in my mouth.

My lower body retained a trace of that tense feeling. I gazed down. Oh my goodness, my slit was caked shut by dried excitement. Whose?

I continued to feel a sort of friction throughout my entire body. The sweet lassitude that came from my insides powerfully churned. But, was this dream or reality?

I sensed too, an unfamiliar sensation in my buttocks. Was he there too? Damn! I don't remember a thing. What happened?

***

Part 2

Wife-Husband

My husband, Ethan had returned from his business travel.

That night. Our usual bedroom banter. We were naked as we slept in the nude.

"Anything interesting when I was away?"

"I did some shopping. For you."

"Hmmm... I don't recall I needed anything in particular."

"Ah, but you always do..."

"So, what is it?"

"Hang on a sec."

I beetled to our washroom.

***

"What do you think?"

Ethan had never seen anything like this on me. He was wild-eyed at my reinvention of self.

"Am I to take it that this deafening silence is your muted roar of approval?"

He nodded. But, not with his head. I was pleased with his appreciation where it counted most.

"What possessed you to buy this?"

"I've been thinking about this ever since I browsed a website on lingerie for mature women, recommended by one of my girlfriends. But, I just didn't have the guts to make a purchase commitment, fearful that it would pan out all wrong, when I eventually put them on. Like slutty, whorish, vulgar. And the online shop had a no-return policy for hygiene reasons."

"What made you change your mind?"

"Did I tell you that Seb had an unscheduled break when you were away? His professor was down with a virus, or something."

"You didn't."

"Oh? Sorry."

"So, what does all this have to do with Seb?"

"I was in our study poring intently over my laptop screen eye-balling this lingerie model and that, when Seb surprised me from behind, mmm... that would look lovely on you. I was caught out. It was soooo embarrassing."

"What particular lingerie were you browsing then?"

"The screen was displaying the wicked matching combi of quarter cup exposed bra and crotchless panty, modeled by a mature woman of my vintage. Seb was grinning wide like two Cheshires lined up side by side. That lightened me up a little. You know our son. He has his way of disarming people. He teased that the model looked like me. Feigning misunderstanding, I teased back, and how would you know I looked like that?"

"Hmmm... intriguing. Since you've your laptop here, show me that webpage."

"Oh my god! Do the regulators actually allow ads like that these days?"

"This is an adult apparel online shop. Not Toys R Us."

"Well?"

"What?"

"Does the model look like me?"

"Where?"

"Very funny!"

"She most certainly does. Our son was not kidding. This may be a bit surreal. Even creepy. Her top and bottom do too. Is my wife, poor thing, moonlighting as an online lingerie model for lunch money?"

A pause.

Ethan wondering aloud, "I just wonder what was going through Seb's tousled head then."

"Your son takes after you. A visual animal. Devours everything in sight."

"Yes, I've seen him surreptitiously checking you out a few times. His keen eyes tracing your arcs."

"How do you feel about it?"

"He is a healthy red-blooded lad. His mum is a healthy, lush, what do they call them these days, MILF? Mother nature carries on her own sweet way."

A pause.

"What happened then?"

"I felt obliged to tell Seb nonchalantly that I was just window-shopping for a lark. It's what solitary ladies in the desolate moor countryside do."

"And?"

"Seb sat beside me. He looked at me, brushed an, I think, imaginary strand of hair on my forehead, and in so doing, grazed his finger over my beads of perspiration. Like he knew I was hot and bothered."

"And?"

"Seb volunteered that if we could be adult about this, he could help me pick my shopping. He just completed a uni course module on photography, specifically boudoir photography, so he knew a thing or two about the best effects of this realm."

"Go on..."

"I told Seb that he could help me pick. No harm in that. But, there was no certainty that I would necessarily buy them. I might chicken out later. The lingerie was expensive, and there was a no-return policy."

I paused, not really sure if I should continue.

Ethan could see I was a little anxious, if not nervous. "Go on."

"We scrolled through a few webpages of merchandise. Seb shook his head. He said this wasn't going to work. But why? Seb said he had to have a sense of my body profile, proportion and features, to make any meaningful picks. Like what of me to flaunt, what to enhance the optics, and so on. Quite a forward and bold thing for a son to say to his mum, don't you think?"

"Hmmm..."

"I said he had seen me in my swimsuit before. He snorted. That matronly one-piece thing! It gave nothing away."

"And?"

"I told Seb that there was a bit of a problem. I had no other swimsuits in my wardrobe, be it one-piece or bikini, other than that matronly monstrosity."

"Go on."

"I was stunned when Seb suggested that he sees me in underwear. I said that would be crossing a line. He reasoned that it wouldn't be very different from a bikini. I sensed a bias in Seb's tone. Like he was thinking that my underwear would be as dreary as my swimsuit. Granny panties maybe. SWAT team bulletproof armoured bra. That kind of peeved, if not wound me up, a little."

A pause.

"I think Seb expected me to go to my bedroom, pick out some sensible underwear to put on. I surprised him. I stepped away from him. In an act of socially conditioned modesty although it didn't make much practical sense, I faced away from him. I peeled off my blouse. Seb had a foretaste of my bra. Strapless. Scarcely discernible slim transparent backstrap. From my back, it would appear like I was completely topless."

A pause. Bated breath.

Testing my husband, and in a way, deviously getting his blessing for what happened already, "It gets racy here. Do you want me to stop?"

He was about to answer, then bit his lip. My gaze drifted to his loins. This was a side of Ethan I had never seen. Here was a man whose wife was cajoled by a young man, his son, no less, to reveal her maternal charms. Here was a man in a state. Was this one of God's more sublime jokes on humanity?

"Hmmm... You're getting your jollies, aren't you?"

He didn't reply. Instead, his hand drifted to the rivulet of excitement on my thigh, and then traced it with his finger. We left a little collective smudge on the bedsheet. But, our excitements were greater than the damp mark they left.

"Go on."

"My back still to Seb, my skirt was tight around my thighs, I shimmied out of it. For the first time in my life, another male saw me in lingerie."

"How did it feel?"

"So right and so wrong all at once."

"How so?"

"That I've kept this private within my family circle. And it's scandalous that my son is seeing me like this. A stir fry of confused emotions. Sexy lingerie or daring bikini, is there a diff? Mum or woman, who am I when? What was playing in Seb's head, son or man? And then, mum, wife."

"What happened next?"

"My panty was black, high-cut and lacey. It covered three-quarters of my cheeks. Not outrageously sexy, but modestly appealing enough. The bottom arcs of my cheeks were visible. I kind of enjoyed this revelation moment, dispelling Seb's granny panties preconceived notion."

"How did Seb react?"

"I still had my back to him. So, I didn't see him. Silence. Male breaths. I think he was surprised by my underwear. That I wore underwear like that on a normal day at home. That his mum still had redemptive features."

A pause.

"As I made no move of turning around to face him, I think he wasn't sure what's next. Then, he asked sheepishly. Could I hike up my bottom just a little so that it rode into my crack, like a thong. I told him, no, that would be crossing a line. Already, I was showing too much. He reasoned that it wouldn't be any different from a thong bikini."

A pause.

"I told him that would be too much. I was about to explain that a woman has to prepare herself a bit to wear a thong, and that I was all natural. But, I bit my lip."

A pause.

I felt a little bad. Was I overly harsh? Most lads wouldn't give an ancient like me the time of day. And here he was, longing to see me. Maybe I'd meet him part way. I moved my torso a bit, this way and that, as if modeling for him. The movements drifted my panty closer to my butt crack."

"What happened next?"

"I teased. What do you think of your mummy dearest's derrière? Perhaps he was studying my pressed cheeks. I sighed saying I had been gaining a little weight in my backside of late. I hoped he found them still appealing. Did the extra weight add a little sensual sway mass to my mature tail, I wondered aloud? What did he think?"

"And?"

"He said he appreciated my buttocks, teasing that I was a delicious dish of pork on the bone. He complained that social media bombarded his senses with impossibly perfect plasticky sculpted nubile bubble butts. He liked my mature tail, curvy and longish. Authentic he said."

"Did you eventually turn around to face Seb?"

"I kept delaying that subconsciously. It was awkward to stand in front of Seb in bra and panty. So, I moved to sit beside him on the sofa, erect with my body turned toward him, half my butt overlapping the sofa's edge. I crossed my legs to obscure my mound as the panty was high-cut and the gusset was lacey translucent."

"Did Seb check you out?"

"At first, he was a little sheepish, stealing surreptitious glances at my top, his eyes trying to drill past my crossed legs to my mound."

"What did Seb see?"

"What do you mean?"

"What was your underwear like?"

"My bra was a strapless black half-cup."

"Did it show much?"

"The lace was just enough to protect me from the elements. Its top edge covered just up to my nipples. Seb could see much of my top. I wasn't sure if the top fringe of my chocolate smear of areolas showed. The bra was a tight-fit push-up. My breasts were pressed together, full-fleshed, showing up quite a bit of cleavage."

"Did Seb say anything about your top?"

"No. But, I could sense that he was enamoured of my show of ripe fruits and cleavage. The lad was expecting a matronly industrial construction bra, so this was a godsend."

"Go on..."

"When he had appraised enough of me topside, his eyes drifted southerly. He could see a generous expanse of my lower torso and thigh flesh. But, nothing of my crotch. I could just as well have been pantyless. My motherly secrets were secure."

"It must've been agonising for Seb."

"I could see the longing in his eyes. I dare say I kind of enjoyed titillating his senses this way. A curious sense of control and gratification. Almost cruel to a point."

"Go on..."

"Finally, I decided to meet him kind of half way. To his surprise, I suddenly stood up and announced that it was tea time, and that I would go get tea. Seb expected that this was the end of the magic spell. That I would gather my clothing, beetle to the bedroom, change into something sensible, then, go put the kettle on. He was pleasantly surprised that I stood up, gave him a full frontal for a few seconds, bent over impossibly low with my legs locked straight, to pick up my clothing from the floor, then strutted to the kitchen."

"What did Seb see?"

"My panty gusset front had drifted and gathered up a bit. You know I'm all natural down there. The sides of my bush were showing. Light pencil shading shadows. I could feel Seb's eyes lasered on me there. It's a strange feeling. My son seeing my pubes, although only the kinky light margins. But then again, maybe our son saw nothing because my rip curl wisps could have blended with the frilly lace of the panty edge."

"Do you think Seb saw anything when you bent over to pick up your clothing?"

"I can't tell. I don't have eyes at the back of my head. Maybe like my front, a little of my low pubic hair could have peeked out of the panty edges?"

"Your feminine bits?"

"Hmmm... again, I can't be sure. I don't think so. And, heaven forbid, if any pink showed, it would've been fleeting. And oh god, come to think of it, did I throw off any earthy piquant scent? Just what would Seb be thinking?"

Granules of excitement gathered on Ethan's head. It had been a long time since I saw him so charged with conviction. In an extractive mood, I playfully gave him a firm savage squeeze. A cruel and unusual punishment. A pearly drop oozed forth. I doodled it over his male pink in a sort of finger painting art that my kindly school art teacher, Mr Arthuro, taught me in another lifetime.

Just then, Ethan lost it... It was the first time I observed my husband ejaculate without any physical contact. It was that intense. He had a few joyous moments.

Later...

"What happened when you had tea with Seb?"

"Seb was surprised to see me strut out of the kitchen to the sitting room in a mid-thigh length apron, carrying the tea set. But, he didn't say anything. I moved myself such that Seb couldn't see my back."

"You're a merciless tease!"

"I passed the tea set tray to Seb and asked him to take over from there. I settled down on the sofa, made a show of relaxing. Crossed my legs coquettishly, my right foot in a come hither dangle. Seb was stealing glances at me, trying to determine if I still had underwear beneath the apron. I could feel the relentless probe and fossicking of his keen eyes to make a determination."

A pause.

"I uncrossed my legs, moved forward to get my cup of tea from the table, then recrossed my legs. This caused my apron to ride up high on my upper thigh. An expanse of my creamy thighs was showing. Seb remarked that I had sexy legs, nice arcs of calves, and turns of ankles. I chided him. He should not be talking about his mother's legs that way. The apron hemline was hovering just below my crotch. Could he see any hint of peeking bush?"

"Go on..."

"Seb reminded me that we had to get on with the selection of my lingerie purchases. I asked Seb to fetch my laptop to the coffee table. As he did that, I repositioned my legs. I placed my left foot flat on the floor. I angled and tucked my right foot beneath my left butt. My apron rode up high, hovering just below my crotch. Seb regarded me with renewed interest. I really couldn't tell what he saw from his perspective."

"Go on..."

"Seb helped me pick two sets of matching tops and bottoms. He implored me to pick an illicit matching exposed corset bustier and crotchless panty set. I told him that I would never wear the crotchless panty no matter what. It would be a dreadful waste of good money."

A pause.

"Seb intimated that from his boudoir photography course experience, the crotchless panty can be an alluring garment if its delicate lacey fabric is matched and artfully blended with the pubic hair texture of the wearer. It can stir eroticism. The wearer enjoys the wicked ambivalence of wearing something that reveals her most feminine, and yet, her intimate bits may not be obviously apparent. The admirer may be asking, am I seeing what I think I am seeing? Or, is it just sheer lacey fabric? The charm is in not knowing for sure."

"The lad is persuasive. Did he convince you?"

"I really didn't know what to think. So, I told Seb that I would go with the idea. We'd make the pick. I'd decide later whether to commit the purchase. Whatever added to the shopping cart could be deleted in a mouse click."

"What next?"

"We looked at a few models of crotchless panties. Seb would expand each image to study the fabric pattern and texture close-up. After awhile, he shook his head in a kind of despair. What now?"

A deep pause. I looked at Ethan anxiously, as if asking him if I should go on. He said nothing. I looked at him there. The granules of excitement were gathering again.

Relating in near verbatim, "Seb said, Mum, I can't help you if I don't know you... there. Me there? Your pubic hair. What? Yes. You want to see your mother's pubic hair? My son wants to see my pubic hair? Just so that we get us through this. Hmmm... I don't know about this... We can reason that lingerie and bikinis are not so very distant cousins. But, this is at another stratospheric level. Mum, I just want to help, and do this right. These garments are expensive, and there is the no-return policy. In that case, I just don't buy any. Come on, mum, never known you to quit."

A pause.

"What you're asking is a no-no. Let's be inventive here. I raised my right arm exposing my armpit. I'm natural here. Study this in lieu of... Although nothing overtly sexual, it was a little strange exposing my armpit to my son. Seb made a show of studying me there. Too sparse. Not representative. Texturally different."

A pause.

"What if I snip a sample of myself, into a small transparent ziploc bag. You can then study it. OK Mum, let's try it. Can you get me the scissors and the ziploc bag from the drawer in the kitchen. OK, thanks for that. Now, can you go to your room and give me five minutes to prep the sample?"

A pause.

"It was strange to see Seb examining my pubic hair in the ziploc bag. A son examining his mother's pubic hair earnestly in her presence. Then, he inserted his fingers into the bag and felt the hair. I teased. How does your mummy feel? Sorry to say this, mum, but this doesn't help. Snipped hair loses their form and texture when detached from their roots. Limp. I shook my head in mild exasperation."

A long pause.

"Despite what Seb said, I saw him stealthily slip the ziploc bag into his pocket. I was about to ask him for it. But, something nudged me to leave it be, for no good reason. Let him have his tiny bit of his mummy if this is what he wanted. A private intimate memento of mummy dearest before she turned silver."

"Go on..."

Relating in near verbatim, "Seb, let's get this over with. You're way too interested in your mother's details. Nobody must know about this. It is not something a mum would do with her son. Still maintaining my sitting position of my left foot flat on the ground, right foot angled back and tucked below my left buttock, I lifted my apron some. Here. He fell on his knees before me in a way that all worshippers of deities will know. His eyes gleamed. I was embarrassed by this. A part of me wanted to recoil in mortification, dash to the bedroom in utter shame. Another part of me was tingling with some kind of longing, egging me, to what end, I'm not sure. I looked away to the bay window, to the ocean far beyond, the ocean rolling in from somewhere out in the deep, to leave Seb to his own devices."