Nudist Mum Visits Son

When the movie ends, he pushes his face toward my G-string and inhales deeply one last time. Sitting up facing me, we discuss the movie. After awhile, our chat meanders onto the subject of nudity. How continental and our anglo attitudes differ on the subject.

"I can't help but notice that you shave your testicles. Pristine. Not a wisp."

"Mum, you may recall, when I was a teenager, we vacationed on a Thai island. The chalet had cardboard partitions. It was way past midnight. I was supposed to be asleep. Dad and you were indulging in a little tropical paradise intimacy. I overheard dad ordering you to suck his shaved balls while he licked you. The next day, while bathing with dad in the resort's communal showers, I couldn't help but stole a glance at dad. Since then, I don't know why, I've this compulsion to keep my balls shaved."

I can't believe what I just heard. Looking down at his testicles, they look like two large eggs in a dark smooth pink sac. Is my son telling me something? I am so tempted to reach out and feel them. Close my eyes, run my finger over the dusky red flesh to feel the ornate texture and imagine its sublime pattern.

I have a thing for testicles, particularly ornately crafted nest egg shaped ones. They are the supreme biological and symbolic personification of manliness. And yet, representing the most tender of male fragility and vulnerability.

But, before I can reach out, he stands up holding his sac for me to look at.

"Mum, you seem enamoured of me there. Here, look at it properly."

I feel a little embarrassed with him standing there holding his testicles in my face. But, I also feel very aroused. My G-string is plastered to my wet, puffy lips. Seb's cock, though not fully erect, is more than just engorged. His foreskin is rolled back exposing his pink head. A glistening drop of arousal on his tip. His cock raises up now like the flag of a proud nation, and I am cheering.

I am so very tempted to cup one hand on his swollen testicles, and grip the thick base of his penis with my other hand. But, I resist this call to action with a superhuman strength that I do not know I possess.

"Let's move to the patio and soak up some afternoon rays."

We get up. He points the way forward. We sit on the double lounger next to each other.

We chat some more. The conversation veers back to the movie. The son character seeing his mum nude in his dad's paintings. The mum/son/dad tension arising.

"I know that until today, until I dropped my top, you've never seen me partially or fully nude. But, tell me, have you ever seen my body, even if fleeting? Bathroom ooops nudity flashes. Wardrobe malfunctions. That kind of thing."

Seb appears to be processing something.

"Well?"

"Yes and no."

"Huh?"

"You remember that time when you, dad and I went hiking in the mountains. I think I was about eighteen then."

"I remember, but only vaguely."

"You remember it rained buckets when we reached the summit. It was already dark. We were the only people there. We were dead tired."

"Dad and I hastily setup the tent. The hard rain soaked us to the bone. We were all cold, wet and miserable. We needed to get out of the wet things quickly, or we were going to catch our death of cold."

"Dad put up the fabric divider across the middle of the tent interior. We separated your backpack from ours, to place them on each side of the divider, for us to change out of our wet clothes. You were shivering, dripping a puddle on the floor near the door of the tent."

A pause.

"I couldn't help but notice how your nipples stuck out underneath your wet T-shirt and bra. Despite my teeth chattering from the biting cold, I was still a little turned on."

"Oh?"

"If I can identify the first time I was ever sexually aroused by your body, it would have been the moment."

I try to reimagine the t-shirt and bra I wore on that hike. All so long ago. It was the old technology type fabric, cottony and soft, unlike the synthetic, plasticky sweat-whisking variety material. Yes, I am old fashioned that way. Even when I am at my most sporting self. Indeed, the wet fabric would have hugged my contours.

"You ducked underneath the divider to your side and started to change. You asked to have the lantern on your side as you couldn't see the contents of your backpack properly. I passed it over."

"It looked like you placed the lantern against the far wall of the tent because your shadow fell on the divider. I didn't really notice at first, my teeth still chattering."

"Dad and I started to change out of our wet clothes. We were both naked."

"Then, I noticed the shadow on the divider. I saw the outline of you naked. It was all very sensuous. Like a soft porn movie. A living and breathing silhouette just two feet from me."

"Well, I don't know if I should say this..."

"I'm piqued. Don't you dare stop now."

Sheepishly, "As I stared, I felt myself starting to get a stiffy. I instinctively turned my back to dad, which wasn't helpful. I think my sudden movement attracted dad's attention to me, and then, to your silhouette. Counter-productive. The tent was too small for me to turn away from dad completely. I also didn't want to make it too obvious that I was hiding from him. He could still see me."

A pause.

"Dad looked at your silhouette, then, his eyes drifted to my erection. He said nothing."

A long pause.

"Go on, please..."

"I looked back at dad. He had a massive hardon. Bigger than mine. My first thought was that dad was bisexual, turned on by my hardon. But, he appeared preoccupied with watching your silhouette as if he had never seen you naked before, and then, taking momentary glances at my hardon. Like some kind of cause-&-effect empirical study."

"After awhile, as if we had an unstated understanding, we both just focused on watching your silhouette."

"We saw your image bent over your backpack, your naked breasts hanging down a little, swaying, even shaking, as you searched for your clothing. You looked nice. Neither huge nor small, just beautifully rounded and firm. Ripe fruit that had just burst through their skins. I could feel your weight with my eyes."

"Finally, you found what you wanted. I and maybe dad too, anticipated that this was the end of it. That you would put on your dry clothes, and that would be it."

"Imagine our delight when, still naked, you proceeded to repack your backpack, stuffing clothing down toward the bottom. Your swaying breasts were a sight to behold."

"That was when dad whispered: Quite a show, huh? I couldn't believe my ears. I gave a muted self-conscious half-laugh and said: You don't say!"

"We continued watching. You stuck out your chest and arching your back, you pulled your nightgown over your head."

"Dad surprised me again. He patted my cock, then his, and said: Your mum, she's really something. Now, let's get dressed."

"The spell ended. The dry clothing made me feel instantly warmer. But a chill was still deep in my bones."

"Sorry mum, if I've been overly forward in my account. I got a little carried away."

I say nothing. This is all alot to process... For the wife. For the mother. For the woman.

***

"Mum, the sun is getting stronger. If you turn over, I'll lotion your back."

I turn over onto my stomach. I feel my naked son straddle me. I feel his shaved testicles rubbing against the bottom of my buttocks. I instinctively shift my legs apart. His testicles fall between my thighs. Closing my legs slightly causes his testicles to push up against my pussy. His shaft nestles between my arse crack. I get a massive charge from this lewd contact.

I am leaking onto his testicles. He must feel this. What is he thinking? I feel so deviant permitting my son such intimate contact with my body.

Seb rubs lotion on my back, from my neck to my buttocks.

Then turning around, facing my feet now, he straddles my back, sitting gently on me. I feel his arse and his shaved testicles pressed against my lower torso back. He rubs lotion from my ankles to my buttocks. He parts my cheeks. Can he see past my G-string to my butthole? Can he see past my G-string to my pink? He rubs lotion from my arse crack to my now very wet G-string covered crotch.

Getting off me, he asks me to turn over for him to rub lotion on my front. Turning over toward him I look up. There, just inches from my eyes, is the underside of his erect cock. Embedded in his wood is his intention, suggesting that it be used for a certain purpose and in a certain way.

"Sorry mum, it just happens. I've no control over it."

"It's OK, honey, I understand."

I exercise almost inhuman impulse control to keep from taking him into my mouth.

Again straddling me over my hips, his cock just inches from my crotch, he unties my G-string. In one quick movement, he pulls it off. This is rather bold of him.

We are now both naked. Putting the garment to his nose, I watch as he inhales deeply, savouring my most secret scent. He twitches and leaks as I watch.

Spreading my legs apart, he sits on top of me. His shaved sac rubs against my pussy.

He slathers lotion on his hand and rubs the lotion in, cupping my breasts. His palms are warm and comforting as they cup, very gently, the underside of each of my breasts. The way he allows my breasts to rest upon the soft warmth of his hands, it feels as if he is merely touching me to see if I am indeed real.

Making a pertinent observation, "Mum, they're heavier than they look."

He rolls my nipples between his fingers. He pinches and squeezes my breasts, sending waves of pleasure down my spine. My fluids leak all over his testicles giving them a sheen.

With one hand on my breast, he moves his other hand to my pussy. He cups my pussy, squeezing my puffy wet lips between his fingers before inserting his middle finger into me momentarily, diligently lotioning me there where the sun don't shine.

Oh my God! That first searing contact. A line is crossed. He is enjoying his mum way too much. Our social contract changed forever in that moment.

Sliding down my legs till his testicles are between my feet, he rubs lotion on my feet. I can't resist. I just can't. Offerings laid at my feet. I use my feet to fondle him. They begin to tighten up.

He gets up. He straddles my head with a knee on each side of my head. I look up. I see adorable nest eggs with the finest of texture motif hanging above me.

I put my hands on his legs. I feel my way up to his butt cheeks, pushing them open. A lovely oily o-ring comes into view. A strapping young brawny jock. And yet, such an exquisite butthole. Nature surprises us with hidden wonders when we least expect it.

I feel Seb pull my legs up and back. He puts his mouth to my lips. Nibbling, licking. I feel his tongue poised to invade me.

All the barriers are down. I am nothing but a feeling animal. An animal in rut that has to be fucked.

I don't know why, but suddenly, my senses snap. Oh my God! What have I allowed to happen. Seb is supposed to apply lotion on me.

"Seb, Seb, we've to stop. I can't... We can't..."

I disentangle from my son before it gets too far gone.

"I'm going to the kitchen to make tea."

The spell is broken. Seb is speechless.

***

Chapter 6

Vibe

When I return to the patio with the tea, I feel bad about the abrupt turn of events. I kind of implicitly encouraged Seb along without any demonstration of resistance. I even egged him on during particular moments. And then, I cut him off. Have I been overly harsh?

Even as I think this through now, we are still naked. I have not covered up. What does this say? I hope he reads it as we having broken the nudism barrier, reached a kind of comfortable social equilibrium, and nothing more.

Trying to navigate in another direction, "Seb, drink your tea. Then, I want to try out your Christmas gift."

Seb normalising somewhat, "OK mum. Sorry about all that earlier. I got carried away."

"Don't worry about it. We both did."

Continuing, "You're a healthy red blooded lad. If you didn't react the way you did, notwithstanding that I'm your mum, you're not alive. So, chill."

***

Maybe I should make it up to Seb a bit?

"Seb, this is your bullet vibrator gift. Now is as good a time as any to test it. I'll try it on my nipple, just for a lark."

Soft whirring sound.

"Seb, it's a lovely sensation. Thank you."

It is an agreeable experience, made more so, by the gifter viewing his gift bearing on the giftee. A mum can only receive so many intimate gifts from her son, before it transcends to a woman receiving gifts from a man.

"Mum, can I do it on you?"

"Yes, please. Put it against me here, like so."

"Hmmm... mum, you do have a sensitive tip here. Look at it now."

"Yes. Now, do the other one."

"Oh yesss!"

"Do you want to try it on your nipple to experience what it is like. Just for a lark."

"Why not? You do it for me, mum."

I playfully apply it on Seb's right nipple.

"Hmm... not much reaction. Underwhelming huh? I guess you and I are engineered differently."

"I guess..."

"Can you let me try something else? A little bold. Up the ante a bit."

"Please. It's your gift. Do what you wish with it, mum."

I place the vibrator against his shaft. He reacts within a minute. As he stiffens, I put the vibe under his head, against his frenulum. That is wonderful, apparently. I also hold it against his testicles, and then, underneath them. I nurse him with a motherly devotion not seen since he was ten.

I can't help but hold his testicles. They are so ripe for my cupping. They are made for my palms by some divine intelligent design. I just love the way the skin stretches as he grows. The way the head gets bigger and bigger. Those first little drops of excitement. And the way his testicles tighten up.

I gather the liquid arousal with my fingers, bringing the homemade family confection to my lips. Seb observes me savour his evidence of arousal, but says nothing.

I hold his male flourish. He feels the pressure of my hand. Not strong. But, even and steady.

I'm trying to compose a poem in my mind to keep calm. Trying to curb the excitement that hurls around inside my body like a trapped comet.

Eminently a better class of hardon than my hubby. My hubby just doesn't have that straining energy anymore.

Mine to have and to hold until...

He moans that he is sensitive there. He cautions me to be careful how much I tease him there as he may leak on my legs.

I run my fingers around him. His sensitive little eye-slit is in my face. I can't help but squeeze him gently. Another pearly drop of arousal bubbles out of the tip. I just love this cause and effect.

I play with the gathering granules, doodling them over his tender male pink in a sort of finger painting art that my kindly school art teacher, Mr Arthuro, taught me in another lifetime.

I run my finger along a thick vein that runs a good length of him. I christen it Mister Stringy, even though what I'm doing here is not so Christian.

Such prominent veins are quite uncharacteristic of young people. It lends a sense of vulnerability. Will it burst asunder if I work it too vigorously? Rawness like unconcealed plumbing, but in a gentrified place. All that juxtaposed against phallic gamey male meat.

I must admit I like this thick vein.

Pointing at it, "Does Mr Stringy here have a pulse?"

"Find out for yourself, mum."

"Oh yes! I can actually feel it. A life force of its own."

I decide to hold it longer. This time, the sensation, whether real, or I imagined it, is especially vivid. It is speaking to me in the way it knows how, just as pulses speak to physicians of inner vibes.

"Seb, come meet Mrs Stringy."

"Huh?"

"I've a feminine counterpart, Mrs Stringy, on my person in the form of a singular thin, pale blue vein that threads to my left nipple. Here..."

"Ah, I see it now."

"I've mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, blue veins are not exactly what women aspire to have. On the other hand, your dad says that he likes it because it gives my fruits a certain authentic texture and character."

"Dad is right! The man knows his aesthetics."

"Mum, we haven't really tested the bullet vibe properly yet."

"What do you mean?"

"Good that we tested on your nipples. But, it's designed for more compelling sensation."

"You mean..."

"Yes"

"Perhaps I should test it when I'm alone..."

"Well, mum, you tested the vibe on me on my most intimate."

"That's true. But, we're built differently. Your privates are not hidden away. Mine are. I've to reveal my most intimate. You know what I mean."

"Yes, but my aroused reaction is starkly visible, whereas yours is more subtle."

A pause.

"Mum, it's OK... We've come this far. You're not the first, and won't be the last woman to use a vibe."

"It's not using the vibe per se. It's us together here. What mother would use her vibe in front of her son?"

"Mum, you're overthinking this. This is just for a lark. And I do want to share this gift experience with you."

"Hmmm... I'm beginning to wonder who exactly is doing the giving, and who the receiving."

"Was it Saint Francis of Assisi who said, for it is in giving that we receive."

"This is so reassuring. I'm glad this saint approves of our little gift exchange here."

"Mum..."

I whisper as if there are interlopers lurking in every shadow, "OK".

I part myself just a little. I struggle somewhat to place, by feel, the vibe at the optimal position. My clitoris is not the most accessible of anatomy parts.

"Mum, let me do it..."

Before I can say anything, he takes the vibe from me. It is wet. I am a little embarrassed. He kneels before me, at eye level to my mound. Like a devotee worshipper before a high deity.

He combs my pubes with his fingers to some obedient form. Some semblance of order.

He touches my opening. I look at him solemnly like I am inducting him to some secret society. He draws my lips a little farther apart, laying the moist, hair-lined flesh a little too open to his lustful eyes.

He explores the minutiae of my womanhood like he is ascertaining and deciding which are the optimal positions for the vibe. He does some delicate arrangement of my lips and folds. He murmurs into my pubic hair.

He is touching my femininity with such passionate attention, I almost feel like I should look away. But, I can't. I'm full on gawking. At myself.

Oh my God, he must be looking deep into me, as far as he can see, where bright pink gives way to a dusky rose, that fades away into shadow. He is transfixed, staring into my nether depths. He cannot tear his eyes away. The combination of hints and details excites him. There is a strange compulsion bearing on me to let him look as long as he wants.

I feel the units of shame multiplying in me. This has gone beyond testing a gift appliance. My son is way too interested in the private details of his mum. Is it healthy for a young man to be so invested in his mother? Should I allow this? What will my son think of me after this? I shake my head and return to myself as my emotions reorder themselves.

"Seb, Seb, this is enough. Let's test the vibe."

I close my eyes. Sensations dancing on my outer labia. This goes on for awhile. Now, my inners. My canal now.

Seb is quite skillful at this. It is as if he designed my pussy, and knows exactly where the secret nerve wires are inlaid.

I feel his finger unhood me. A rubbing sensation. Is that his finger or the turned off vibe? Again.

Now, the vibration resumes. I sense an outpouring of my arousal. My secret scent is no secret anymore. It is in the air.

Should I be feeling this good? Like slipping into cool river water.

Better to stop now, while I am behind in the game.

"Seb, it works. Thank you."

I pull away from him. It is like breaking suction.