Mothers and Secrets

"Umm. Sure."

"Your father will take the cooler in his car, and you and I will drive separately in my car."

"Yeah," agreed her husband in a gregarious tone. "I may decide to head home early if I get too bored sitting by the pool. It's not really my scene, but I know your mother wants me there."

Madeline's eyes stayed wide open. Her smile did not match the unblinking eyes.

"Okay." It was all Grant had. "I'll go grab a towel and get changed then." In his room he took an extra handful of minutes to process what was happening. His father had never enjoyed going to the pool with them. He and his mother had gone there alone over the past three Summers.Maybe more. As long as I hang close to Mom, there shouldn't be a problem.

Also, the senior Bloom would see Madeline in that red bikini. They had intended that vision to be primarily for her son. Then again, the plan was to show her off to everyone else at the pool. Dad will behave himself in public, so what can be the harm?

Finally, there didn't seem to be anything he could do to stop his father from coming along without making all sorts of problems. Fuck it. Mom knows where she belongs. If there's any trouble, she'll be on me like white on rice. That's good enough.

When he came down, his father was lugging the yellow cooler towards the garage door. "Whatever," he grumbled at his wife. "I'll buy a hot dog at the snack bar if I get hungry. You two can split my cucumber whatever sandwich." He kicked the door open. "Assuming you're not too stuffed from your own," he added with a chuckle. He ducked through the door, out of sight.

Grant smiled. "Charming as always." This got a mild titter from his mother. "I'm ready if you are."

She tossed a plastic bottle of SPF 30 sun cream into a cloth bag with her towel and held up her key ring. "Yep! Grab my purse from the table, and we can go."

They climbed into her car. He had to be sure. "I trust you packed the red bikini, or you're wearing it under your dress?"

She turned to him with a look of surprise. "Of course I am." She shifted in her seat. The fit mommy had to lift her right leg so she could turn 90 degrees and face him entirely. With zero hesitation, Grant's mother took the hem of her dress and drew it back. The summer day light glowed on silky tone thighs. "Oh, I didn't ask. Um. Do you want to see that I've done as you ordered, coach?" There was a gleam of mischief in her wide eyes, but her tone was docile and yearning.

It took a second for her son to find his voice. "Uhum. Ye...yes, I'd like to see. Show me."

She calmly lifted the hem to her bulging chest. Her legs were entirely exposed to him. The red front panel of the bikini bottoms hid her crease and little else. Not a hair could be seen.

Without thinking, he reached out to caress the smooth skin around the crotch of her bathing suit. "You've shaved."

"Yes," affirmed the loving mother. "I've kept everything nice and clean for you. At least I assumed that this is what you wanted. I'll always do things however you want it; whatever you need."

Soon she'd be exposing far more of her skin to far more people, but there was a magic to this moment. There sat his mother; legs splayed apart, offering him her narrowly covered groin. She stared at him as if waiting to get his verdict on a dish she'd prepared in his honor. Sealed away together in the car, his mom's casual exposure and stirring words felt lewd and thrilling.

I could tell her to pull aside the front panel. Say I want to see how well she has shaved her pussy for me. She would do it. I doubt she would hesitate. His head spun at the idea. As if the meeting place of her bare legs had a gravity of its own, he felt drawn to shove his face between those thighs; put his mouth on his mother's crease.

She questioned him before he could move. "Is this how you wanted me?"

"Wha-?" He shook himself out of his daze. "Yeah. Yes. You look wonderful, Mom."

Still holding her legs apart for him, she asked, "Shall we go to the pool now?"

"If you—uh—yeah." He wiped sweat from his brow. Fuck! Who is seducing whom? Who is in control here?

Madeline smiled and restored the hem to her lap. She closed her legs, faced forward and turned the ignition. An elegant hand sporting fire-engine red nails eased a pair of sunglasses onto her face. "The pool isn't far, but let's put on the A/C anyway." It was as close as the mature bombshell would come to mentioning the heat they felt.

As they drove, the haze of sex fell enough for Mrs. Bloom to shake her head and say, "I have no idea why your father invited himself to join us."

"It's okay."

"I tried to talk him out of it."

"Really, it's alright, Mom."

"He said you and I have had plenty of mother-son time. Says he should be free to join his family at the public pool. I didn't know what--"

Grant grabbed and held her thigh. "Mom. Relax." She quieted down immediately. "He's not changing anything."

"Okay. I'm calm," she fibbed. "But what about when he sees me in this bikini?"

Masculine muscled shoulders shrugged. "My best guess is he'll see what a fool he's been for turning you down for years."

"I wasn't in such good shape until recently."

"You've been a fit and beautiful woman all along. I just helped you tighten up an already great body."

"Hmmm."

"One look at you rocking that tight little bikini, and he will probably realize how far you are out of his league now."

"But, I--"

"And that's not just because you've got a bangin' body," her son pressed. "Believe it. Your body is heavenly. It's not just because he's let his gut grow. It is hard to ignore what a lovely, upbeat and disciplined woman you are, running your career, your household and your physique. He can't do more than drive to work and complain about the meals."

"Oh, honey," she choked out as they pulled into the parking lot.

"Wait 'till you see how he looks standing next to you. It's going to be the queen of the world standing next to a grubby little gnome from under her stairs."

She parked the car and killed the engine. Her voice shook, "And where will you be? Who are you in this tableau?"

"Well, you're the queen. That makes me your prince." A prince who spanks his naughty queen's bare ass every night before bed.

The taut mother launched herself across the small space into his arms. She hugged him and breathed ragged breaths.

She's on the verge of tears! He shushed her and stroked her hair. The impact of her hug had hidden her trembling. Grant's touch soothed her as effectively as it could, at other times, excite her.

His mom's trembling diminished and stopped. The brunette head drew back, and she smiled with wet eyes. "You are a prince to me. I'm so lucky to have you...in my life." She kissed his lips -- closed mouths -- for a slow seven seconds. "I love you so much, Grant."

"I love you too, Mom." His big hands smoothed her hair a few more times, then ran down her flanks to rest on her womanly hips.

"Let's go show the world what a hot queen mamma you've got."

They exited the car, grinning.

Each Bloom went into the changing area designated for their sex. Like most young men, Grant was changed and ready in a flash. He entered the main pool area, prepared to wait for his mother to arrive from the women's changing area.

"There you are! I was wondering if you two could get lost on a ten block drive." It was his father, of course. His feet were bare now, and he'd unbuttoned his Hawaiian print shirt. He was trying to hide his gut, but the open shirt just emphasized it. "Your mother?"

"Still changing inside, I guess."

"Typical. Well, I don't want to wait around for her. A bunch of buddies from my office are here as luck would have it."

"Huh. Lucky."

"Yeah. See the three lounge chairs with the cooler, my towel and my sandals on them?"

"Yeah."

"Those are ours. I'm going to chat with my friends. When your mom comes, bring your bags over to our lounge chairs. Your mom will want to come and say, 'Hi' to Trent and Jerry. I'll introduce her to...whatever. Just wait for your mom, and take the bags to our chairs. After that you're free."

Free? Does he think I arranged to go to the pool with Mom just to ditch her?

"Sure thing, Dad. Go on. I'll make sure Mom comes."

Gabe ambled off to a group of similarly built people close to his age.

The young man stood by and awaited the fireworks of his mother's entrance.

The molten-hot Mad Mommy did not disappoint. She strutted in on cherry-red fuck-me heels that made a perfect mach to her bikini. Ha! She must have smuggled those in her towel bag so I wouldn't see them. Goddamn, what a woman! Full of surprises! The heels made her calves bulge. Her smooth thighs flexed, and her hips popped like she was on a catwalk. Those red lips smiled at her son with the light of a thousand suns. She arched her torso; shoulders back, breast bone up. Her chest bounced along like a slow motion wet dream. Dark shades hid her grey-blue eyes, but Grant knew she was watching him and only him. When she reached her son, he took her towel bag without a word. She put her hands on her hips -- showing off toned arms -- and locked her knees.

By the snack bar some dude spilled soda all over himself. Behind Grant, a skinny young woman was punching her boyfriend and growling for him to "Stop looking." Teenagers and twenty something boys and girls all around were picking their jaws up off the cement.

"Hey, baby," Madeline said to her young man with a playful confidence. She hugged his upper arm, squeezing it between her breasts.

"Hey. I like the heels."

"Thanks."

"You look so hot the pool might evaporate if you get close."

"That's sweet. You're the one who made me hot. Where to first?"

He gulped at her double entendre. He wanted to scream, That's right motherfuckers! She's the sexiest woman here, and she is mine! You like that ass? Of course you do! I'm going to take good care of that ass! She's all mine! The proud son spoke with a calm that hid these thoughts. "Dad's over there with some folks from his office. He would like you to join him; meet and greet." He rested a hand on her supple hip. She stayed put, and her smile broadened at his touch. "We will go over to those deck chairs first to put down our towel bags. He can wait."

"Sounds good. Lead on, Coach G."

They walked to the designated chairs, and the eyes of every pubescent human except for Mr. Bloom was on her.

Gabe turned to see what everyone was staring at. There was his son. Beside Grant there was a woman bending over to place a bag on their chairs. The mystery woman had the finest ass he'd ever seen. "Heh," he mumbled to himself. "My boy didn't take long to pick up a hottie. But I told him to wait for his..." The mystery woman stood. She turned ninety degrees, and lifted her arms to fiddle with her long brown hair. It gave a mouth-watering rise and shift to her already-impressive tits. She turned another forty five degrees, and he finally understood what he was seeing.

"Madeline?" A cocktail of feelings poured over him like multi-colored ice water. On one hand he was more turned on by his wife than he'd been in twenty years. On another, he felt sick with disappointment that she was withholding that miraculous body. He was embarrassed at how his body contrasted with hers. There was a numb satisfaction that Madeline's beauty would likely help his plan. Anger at how she had changed; moved on to greater beauty and health without him. Disgust with himself for refusing to move forward with her. A dozen other feelings of loss, regret and humiliation ran through him too fast to track.

Under it all, he felt jealous of his son -- my own son! -- for many things: his youth, his fitness and his license to touch Madeline almost anywhere. A son won't want to touch his mother in the ways I want to be able to grab my wife. What the hell does she want? It was a question he had failed to ask too many nights in a row. He blinked slowly as his son turned his wife towards the small group of his colleagues. Who cares anymore, he tried to assure himself. I'm going to get some pussy, and Madeline will help me one way or another.

Trent, the only tall and skinny man among Gabe's colleagues, was speaking to someone behind the husband. "Holy shit. Now that is how a bikini is supposed to look."

Their short, round and ever positive coworker, Gina, gasped. "Wow. Just, wow!"

Jerry, whose build most resembled Gabe's, leaned toward the approaching pair and squinted through his glasses. "Are they coming towards us? Wait. Is that Madeline?"

Barbara, the tallest and skinniest of all, never lacked a foul word when a polite one would do. She opined, "You mean that hot little bitch in red? Oh. Fuck."

Lisa, the mousy looking back biter of the group, said, "Madeline who? Wait. Your Madeline? Gabe? Is that your wife?"

The glowing golden pair were upon them before he could answer. The dark haired stunner held tight to the arm of her young stud. "Hi," she said to her husband. "I understand you ran into some people from your work." She made a smile that was unreadable with her eyes hidden behind opaque sunglasses. She tilted her head to the side, "Hi, Trent. Nice to see you."

Trent scratched at his unkempt salt and pepper hair. His bony shoulders poked at the bowling shirt he was wearing above plain yellow swim trunks. "Hey, Madeline. Good to see you too." He made a lame wave to her, but didn't approach.

"Jerry?" the hot-body mamma said in a voice that could melt butter. "So good to see you. How is Loraine?"

"She's good, Madeline, but not as good as you. You look amazing!" Jerry stepped forward, and took a hand she released from her son's bicep. His smile was endearing and heartfelt.

"Oh, Thank you so much."

"I mean, you were always a lovely woman, but--" he made a clearing sound from somewhere in his nasal passages. "You've never looked...like this!"

"I have my son to thank," she said turning briefly to indicate Grant. "He's really whipped me into shape."

Jerry released her hand and looked to her son. "Well I guess you already know this, but great job!"

"Thanks."

Madeline looked to the shortest woman. She was a plump woman in a simple purple and yellow one piece with wiry hair. Gabe's employee looked up through thick glasses at her boss' wife, mouth agape with awe.

The scantily clad goddess purred down to her, "I'm sure you are Gina,"

Gina gulped.

"My husband has told me that you are the most positive influence an office can hope for."

Gina turned her wide lenses to Gabe. "You said that about me?"

"Not in so many words," the stunning wife said. "But I can read between the lines."

"Honey," Gabe said, finally asserting himself. "This, over here, is Barbara." He gestured to the tall red-haired woman in an ill fitting black one piece that made her look mawkish and uncomfortable. She reached out to take Madeline's hand, more like greeting royalty than a shake between equals. "Hi."

"Hi. Sorry, but I don't know about you."

"Ha! Shit. No problemo. I'm in a different department. Don't really work with Gabe. She turned to Mr. Bloom. "Dude, you never told us your wife is a fucking smoke show." She turned back to Mrs. Bloom. "No offense. I mean I'm sure you're cool and all, but you have to know you're..." Her attention mercifully shifted to Grant. "Dude, wow! I mean, you've got to train me. I'd totally pay through the nose."

"My boss wouldn't like me training people privately. Mom's family, so she's allowed. I'll get you a card for the gym where I work. For what it's worth, Jerry is right. She was already beautiful before she lifted a dumbbell or changed her diet. I just helped tweak things."

"Well you've got to tweak me an ass like that, man. I know I look--"

"Barbara, are you drunk?" This was Lisa. The others were too busy trying to hide their laughter to interrupt. All three Blooms were too stunned to react at all.

The stringy potty-mouth blushed, and ducked her head. "Yeah, probably a little."

Trent took tipsy Barbara by the arm. They went to the snack shop in hopes of finding something to sober her up.

Lisa held herself ramrod straight. She had a blonde page boy haircut, and dark brown eyes. She was the only other woman standing there willing to dress in a bikini. Hers was green, yellow and blue resembling the flag of Brazil. The top was frilly, and made it impossible to gauge her chest. Her stomach looked soft. She had to look up to face Madeline. The red fuck-me heels put the brunette a few inches above the blonde. She held her hand out, and said, "It's nice to finally meet you. I'm Lisa, Gabe's secretary." Her hand seemed to be shaking until Grant's mother took it.

"Yes, Lisa. You're every bit as cute as my husband described." Lisa's eyes flared, but Grant couldn't guess what might have bothered her. "He's very fond of you."

Both women stood still, holding the handshake. This exchange mystified the son. He glanced at his father, and saw him smirking. What the hell?

"Thank you," said Lisa in a mechanical tone. She broke the handshake and turned to her boss. "I'll go see how Trent is managing with Barbara."

"Nice to meet you," the superior mother said to the blonde's retreating back.

The rest of the employees made their excuses and headed to the snack bar. Gabe turned to his wife. "I never got that hot dog. I'll get it now, and maybe hang out with the guys a bit more."

"Have a good time," his wife said. Then she turned her back to him, and faced their son. "I haven't put on my sun cream yet. Will you help me?"

Grant just nodded to his father and said, "Let's go, Mom. Maybe we'll have a sandwich while we sit." He put an arm around her and gripped her hard waistline. Mommy's coach guarded and guided her succulent body back to the chairs.

She could feel others staring. Her skin itched at the thought of so many men (likely a few women) wanting her. She shivered again, and squeezed herself tighter than ever against her son's big hard torso.

"Stay close, baby." Her breasts crushed against him.

"Psh," he responded. "Do you really think I'm going to let you out of my reach for a second?"

She panned her dark lenses around the pool. "So many eyes on us."

Her son nodded as they sat on their chairs. Madeline gripped Grant's thigh, maintaining constant contact. "A red hot MILF in a bright red bikini will get that. But don't worry. Everyone watching can tell you're mine."

The quivering mother gasped at the idea. "They may have seen me over there with your father."

"You were over there with me. I held you. You stuck with me, just like you're going to do as long as we're here. We went over to talk to a small group of acquaintances. They went to the snack bar. You stayed in my hands where you belong. There may be plenty of people drinking in your body with their eyes, but they all know only my hands get to cradle your curves."

Madeline felt desperate for her son's touch when she heard these words. "Take me into the pool. I'm not sure if the sun cream is water resistant. We can put in on later. I want you to hold me tight in the deep end."

Mother and son settled for holding hands as they walked. Once in the water their limbs and torsos were in constant contact. Most of the time, their heads and shoulders were a foot or so apart. Under the water, though, teenage boys circled and observed how the gorgeous brunette sat in her young man's hands; how he hid his erection against her soft groin. Diving young women saw how, just under the surface, the woman's delicate fingers gripped and stroked her boy-toy's forearms. Several noticed the bikini clad hottie's right leg twining down and around her possessive beau's left, like a climbing vine. None grasped the incestuous thrill.