Openness Leads to More Openness

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There were birthday gifts from relatives and friends, a half-eaten cake bought by Mom, and delicious food prepared by her. However, there were no friends or relatives. The only person present there to celebrate my 18th birthday was my mom, Carina.

The reason was Mom and I had just relocated to an isolated community deep in the mountains after she won a government grant to study the indigenous tribe. Since she didn't want to live alone in a remote area, I decided to take a gap year and come with her.

After dinner, we went for a walk near a small lake behind the house. We enjoyed these walks as the summer weather was pleasant and the clear blue sky sparkled with stars. She sat down on a rock near the lake and opened a can of beer she was holding in her hand.

"I know you're going to try it sooner or later, but I want you to try it in front of me. I don't want you to drink behind my back. So take a sip."

Sitting down beside her on the rock, I shook my head and said I didn't want it.

"Go on, take a sip. It won't hurt you." She placed the can on her knee on the jeans.

So I took it from her and gulped down not one but two big swigs.

"Remember, don't drink with your friends. If you want to drink, drink at home. Don't be like your father. If he hadn't gone out to drink with his friends that night, he'd be still with us here today." Mom reached out and took the beer from me and wiped the can with her T-shirt.

"He was driving, so it wasn't his friends' fault," I chimed in as I felt the rush of the beer.

She turned her face toward me and stared into my blue eyes with her blue eyes, but didn't say anything.

We stayed there for around 15 minutes talking about everyday things before returning.

The next day when I came back from grocery shopping, I saw Playboy and Juggs magazines on the table in the living room. I doubted the shops in this small town sold them, besides they were old issues, so Mom most probably bought them before we came here. I had seen Playboy at my friend's place, but never in my house. Since Mom was in her room, I quickly flicked through them.

"I got some magazines for you. Take them to your room." I heard her voice as she came out of her room in her usual long skirt and shirt, ruffled my blond hair, and went straight to the kitchen.

I just stood there as I wasn't sure whether she really wanted me to take those magazines. But when she didn't come out of the kitchen for three or four minutes, I grabbed them and rushed to my room.

A couple of days later, it was Friday, we were walking after dinner near the lake, when she asked: "Wanna swim, Liam?"

"Yes."

"Go." She untied her blonde hair and sat down on a rock.

I took off my T-shirt but kept my shorts and underwear on and jumped into the lake. I thought she wasn't planning to swim, but around 10 minutes later, I saw her swimming some feet away from me.

Since it was dark and she was in the water, I was able to make out only her head and face. Then saw her coming out of the water and hurriedly walking on the sand in a bra and panties. As she was putting on her jeans and shirt, I, too, got out of the lake. When we reached home, I noticed her shirt was clinging to her wet bra. However, I quickly averted my eyes as I didn't want her to catch me.

For the past two years, we have been going on hiking trips, cycling, or long drives on Saturdays. So the next day, we packed lunch and went for hiking. We were coming back from the trail and sweating like hell when Mom took a detour and began walking to the lake.

"It's so hot today." And to reiterate that point, she began taking off her top with her back toward me. Then, without hesitating for even a second, she took off her jeans, revealing her five-foot and seven-inch body to me. She was three inches shorter than me.

I was obviously aware that Mom was tall, that she had long legs, and she was a full-figured woman, but watching her toned legs, her shapely thighs, her ample ass partially hidden under her blue panties, and the white skin of her smooth back contrasting with her blue bra strap was something else. She didn't look 39 years old from any angle.

Without even glancing at me, she entered the water and began swimming. I took off my T-shirt and even my shorts and jumped into the lake in my underwear. Since she was swimming a little far from me and was underwater below her neck, I was struggling to see her, but my luck changed when she shouted it was time to go back home.

I was putting on my shorts over my wet underwear when she came out of the water.

Her long blonde hair was wet and pushed back, her cleavage was hidden under the blue sports bra, but the shape of her big breasts was clearly visible, and while the blue panties were covering her pussy, her bare thighs and legs were glowing in the sun. She picked up her clothes and, coming near me, told me I shouldn't have put on my clothes as the house was right there and now my shorts would get wet.

I thought she would put on her clothes, but she cupped her breasts with both hands, adjusted her bra right in front of me, and started walking to the house in just her bra and panties. When we reached home, she went into her room and changed into jeans and top.

The next afternoon, I was in my room when she knocked on the door and asked me whether I wanted to go for a swim. I immediately said yes and got up. This time, she took off her top and jeans near me, revealing her full cleavage as the bikini top had a plunging neckline. As soon as she hit the water, I took off my clothes, adjusted my erect cock, and joined her.

In the lake, she swam near me, and we even threw water at each other. She then signaled with her hand, and we came out of the lake, and she sat down on a rock. Fortunately for me, she had brought towels today as I was wearing underwear and not swimming trunks and was aware that I had a hard-on, so I grabbed a towel, sat down, and put it on my lap. Meanwhile, she sat there in her bikini top and panties.

She opened one beer for herself and one for me and started talking about her work.

The whole scene was like a dream, unbelievable. Just two days ago, she was dressing in the most prudish manner, and today, she was barely wearing anything but, more surprisingly, was so comfortable. She lifted her arms and tied her long blonde hair in a bun, either without realizing how that simple act was making her buxom boobs pop out more or how appealing her underarms were looking or realizing it but doing it anyway. Besides, the bra was revealing the shape of her nipples, but she made no effort to hide them. Then she lifted her leg to her chest, giving me a full view of her smooth ass. As if that wasn't enough, she decided to torture me more. When we were talking, she put her palms on the rock and leaned back like a model posing for a magazine. She sat there with her legs wide apart with a beer in one hand. The sight of her sitting there with her legs open and showing the faint lines of her pussy without any shame drove me and my poor cock wild. We stayed there for around 20 minutes and she showed me nearly every inch of her voluptuous body. The only small mercy was she didn't take my towel or ask me why I had it on my lap as that would have made it difficult to hide my raging cock.

After taking a shower, she came out of her room in a sarong and a shirt whose top two buttons were open, and she wasn't wearing a bra as her cleavage was bare and her nipples were protruding through the material.

"I should wear these kinds of clothes in this weather. They are airy and comfortable." I saw her walking to the kitchen swaying her ass. Then she stopped just inside the kitchen, placed one hand on the wall, leaned back, and, peeking from inside, said: "Now that's what's called a nice piece of ass."

Before I could reply, she winked at me and disappeared.

Three days later, she asked me to get a box from the car as she was carrying books and other stuff. When I came back with the box, she asked me to put it in her room.

Then, after changing into jammies and a top and making a cup of coffee, she again called me and told me a local colleague had invited both of us tomorrow to attend the tribe's biggest festival and she had also given us costumes to wear.

"What do you mean costumes?" I walked to the box.

"Open it, let's see." She too came near the box.

When I opened the box, all I saw were some things with feathers around them. Mom put her coffee cup on the table and started picking one thing at a time, spreading them on the bed.

One was obviously a bra. The under cup was made of white feathers and the upper cup had feathers painted in orange. And it had very thin white straps. The other looked like a skirt. It had a thick belt and long strings of white flowers hanging from it. Then there were what looked like armbands and headwear and something shaped like underwear. There was also something that had a thin belt and long strings but only in the front and the back, leaving the sides of the legs and the thighs completely uncovered.

"What's all this?" I stared at the things in genuine confusion.

"Well, this is...well, you know what this is." Mom put the bra aside.

"This is a skirt," she said as she lifted the white flower thing. "I've seen the photos. They wear them during their main festival. Wait, I'll show you." She took the bra and skirt to my room. "And the other skirt is for you, try it." I heard her shouting from the room.

"Skirt?" I thought to myself as I looked at the strange thing on the bed. "I'm not going to wear a fuckin skirt," I told myself.

When she came back, she was in that bra and skirt. Now, bras have straps that run down straight to the front. This one, however, had straps that went to the sides, leaving her cleavage completely bare.

"She got the size right. She came and took my size, but I wasn't sure." Mom bowed her head and looked at the bra.

"Are you gonna wear this?" I asked as I saw her looking at herself in the mirror with half of her well-endowed boobs popping out of the bra, her stomach completely naked, and her legs and thighs as bare as her arms.

"Why not? And why haven't you tried yours? Just put it on."

"I'm not gonna wear a skirt." I shook my head.

"They all wear it, both men and women. I can show you photos if you want."

"Show them."

"Sometimes you're impossible." She went in her bra and skirt to the bookshelves and started searching for a book.

"See, all of them are wearing it." She was right. Men and women were all in skirts.

"Now please change. If there's some problem, they can still fix it. Now go."

"And what's this?" I pointed at the underwear-shaped thing.

"It's a loincloth." She rolled her eyes.

I picked up the loincloth and the skirt and began walking to my room.

"And don't wear the loincloth over your underwear." I heard her shouting from her room.

"How come there's this loincloth for me, but not for you," I shouted back from my room.

"I forgot to ask. I'll ask them." I detected a bit of anger in her voice.

"It seems fine." She nodded her head as she looked at my skirt. "Take off your T-shirt. If there's a problem, I'll call her and she'll fix it."

So, I took off my T-shirt and stood there in just a skirt.

"Is the loincloth OK? If it's not, tell me now."

"What do you think?" I stared at her in anger.

"Don't be so grumpy. You're looking very gladiator-like. They will paint our faces tomorrow, but only a little bit."

Then she again looked in the mirror.

"OK, the sides are visible." She came toward me.

"Is the front part visible?" She was standing before me.

"What do you mean? All the flowers are visible."

"Not the flowers."

She took a deep breath and put both her hands on the front of her skirt.

"Are my panties visible?"

I looked at her face in surprise, but she just stood there with a straight face, and then I looked at the front of her skirt.

"Remove your hands," I said in exasperation.

When she removed her hands, I stared at the strings but didn't see anything.

"No."

"Go to the side and check if they are visible from the back."

"What?" I asked.

"Just stand there and check." She pointed at her bare thigh.

I went and bent down a little and saw her panties and ass peeking from the strings.

"Yes. Not a lot, but they are visible."

"Hmm. Wait a second." She then stood there and started thinking something. She picked up her phone and called her local colleague.

After thanking her for the clothes and telling her they were great and worth the money, she said: "You were right, the panties are fine. But I was wondering if your sister sells thongs. I think thongs would look better, especially from the back."

After listening to her reply, she gave a thumbs-up to me and told Jenna she would be in her sister's shop in 30 minutes.

Hanging up the phone, she put her hands on her ass. "I don't think they are too visible. But people will dance, too, so I don't want to flaunt my panties there. A thong is better."

I didn't say anything.

Coming near me, she placed her hands on my bare shoulders and saw me from head to toe.

"You are looking stunning. With these biceps, this chest, this Tarzan look suits you." She ran her hand on my biceps and chest.

"I still think you shouldn't wear all this," I said.

"Oh come on. We'll have fun and come back. You can chat with some local girls there. Think about that. Now get my clothes from your room. I've got to go to the shop."

I picked up her top, jammies, and bra and gave them to her.

"This belt is fragile. All this is hand-made." She took off the skirt in front of me, leaving her in only panties and the flower-adorned bra.

Then she put on the jammies and turning her back toward me, she took off the bra and holding it in her hand, she stretched her arm behind her and said: "Put it on the bed carefully."

She then put on the bra and the top that I gave her minutes ago with her back toward me.

"What are you waiting for? Go change," she ordered when she turned toward me.

"This feels odd."

"What feels odd?" I saw frown lines forming on her forehead.

"The thing that's inside this." I put my hand on my groin.

"Oh, you mean the loincloth. Is it tight?" She came closer to me and looked at the front of the skirt intently.

"No, it just feels weird."

"If it ain't tight, it's fine. You have to wear it for only a couple of hours. Now don't be a baby. Go change and bring the clothes here, so I can keep them properly."

As I left her room, she said: "Y'all have to wear loincloth because guys dunno how to keep it inside. We know how to keep it inside."

"Why should we keep it inside if there's something good?" I retorted.

By the time I took care of my erect cock and changed, she was gone, so I threw the loincloth and skirt on her bed and came away.

The next afternoon, after lunch, we took off to her colleague's house to get our faces painted. Since Mom knew I wasn't very keen on paints, she assured me they would only paint a couple of lines on our faces.

It was a fairly big house built of bamboo and wood on the main road of the town. Mom's colleague Jenna came to greet us at the door and she had paint all over her body, with a coconut tree decorated in riots of color emerging from her panties and its branches going all across her busty breasts, which were bare except for the paint. I was immediately fascinated by the artwork and her naked boobs.

She introduced us to her husband, her parents, and her sister, all of whom had some paintwork on their bodies, but only she and her sister had on their whole body, including their ass and groin areas. She and her sister were wearing only panties. But they weren't really visible because of the paint. Her mother, who I later found out was some sort of a leader of the community, was wearing a huge headdress and a bra made of coconut and panties of peacock feathers.

We sat down on a bench in the main room, and they served us home-brewed wine, which hit me like a bullet as that was the first time I had tasted alcohol, and that too home-brewed. But it wasn't just me. Mom, too, shook her head a couple of times after taking just one sip.

I turned my focus to Jenna and her sister. Jenna was shorter and younger than Mom, and her rack was as big as Mom's. I was guessing her nipples were black but wasn't sure as they were painted violet.

Her sister, Lena, who looked younger than her, was of almost the same height and had smaller breasts and her black nipples were clearly visible. On her stomach, a baby was painted. The baby's mouth was just below her nipple as if it was drinking milk from it, and a single drop of milk was falling from the nipple to its open mouth. Its one hand, meanwhile, was on her other breast. On her back, there was an image of the goddess of strength and power.

"My dad is a very good artist and he's very fast. I think full work on you will look good," Jenna said to Mom.

"Yes, but maybe some other day. Today, just some light work on our faces will be fine," Mom replied.

Jenna's husband, who was carrying some boxes, came to say bye to us as he was heading out to help with the festival's arrangements and said to Mom we should consider full work on our bodies.

"It won't take too much time. I'll ask Dad to do just on your front. He did ours, but this will take too much time. So just your front will be fine." She pointed at herself and her sister.

"What does this symbolize?" Mom looked at the artwork on Lena.

Jenna said her sister was getting married soon, so this work wishes her healthy babies.

Mom nodded and turned her face toward me. "What do you think? Should I go the whole nine yards?"

I stared at her in response.

"Dad can make anything you want. This is a festival, so you are allowed to go crazy. You are tall, you have a good body, so give it a shot. If you are not happy, wash it off with soap. It's not permanent." I thought Jenna was addressing Mom, but no, she was telling me.

"No, I'm fine, but thank you."

Wearing a skirt was already more than enough for me.

"OK, let's do it, but only the front. I don't want to trouble your dad too much. Just broad strokes, something that won't take too much time is fine."

I wanted to scream at Mom when I heard her say that, but the whole family was there, so bowed my head and stared at the floor.

Jenna's dad got up from the chair and asked us to follow him. Mom, I and Jenna followed him to the other room. He collected his things, laid a sheet on the floor, and asked Mom to take off her clothes and stand in the middle of the sheet barefoot. Mom took off her jeans and top and gave them to me.

"You came prepared," I said.

"Whaddya mean?"

"That." I pointed with my eyes to her thong lying in the bag.

"Well, we won't have time to go back home. I've brought your clothes, too."

"Do you want something naughty?" Jenna asked Mom.

"Whaddya mean?"

"Wait, let me ask Dad."

After talking with her dad, Jenna said: "Dad's saying an image of the devil will look good on you."

"Does he think I'm a devil?" Mom and I looked at her dad, who was probably in his early 50s.

"Noooo. It's a devil who ravishes women. He's saying it doesn't take much time and, since you are tall and curvaceous, it will look good."

"Yes. Whatever." Mom stepped on the sheet in her bra and panties.

"Tie your hair and wear this shower cap." Jenna handed her a purple shower cap.

Mom put the shower cap between her legs and, raising her arms, she tied her long blonde hair in a bun. As she did this, I noticed I wasn't the only one staring at her bare stomach, her voluptuous boobs, and hairless armpits. Jenna's dad was watching, too.