Seven Days with Mom

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Bright lightning illuminated a brilliant pathway in the sky, lifting my eyes skyward as thunderstorms roared and growled like lions. Although the driveway was still dry, the dark clouds circling above and the 300 million Volt of flash piercing through the early Sunday morning darkness meant things were going to get wet, very wet, very soon.

As I tied my shoes and looked out of the window from the living room, I knew going out in this weather was crazy, but she was determined, and if she was determined, she was determined.

I told her last night that not going hiking in the morning would not bring the sky down. After all, we went hiking yesterday and had been doing it nearly every weekend for over two years, but she started calling me a sissy for being afraid of rain, so I gave up.

"Ready?" Mom asked, looking at me with her blue eyes.

"Are you sure?" I said as I got up from the couch.

"You gotta keep them in shape if you wanna man," she replied, running her hands over her green shorts and thighs, which were toned and firm even at the age of 39.

"I don't wanna man," I said as I opened the front door.

"Not even Tim?" she inquired, lifting her arms to tie her shoulder-length blonde hair in a bun as she stepped out of the house.

Tim, who was 6'1, 177 pounds, or 80 kilograms, and a quarterback on the school team, was one of my friends.

"Huh?" I exclaimed as I turned my face toward her and looked at her.

"I know he won't mind climbing me," she said without looking at me.

"And how do you know?" I asked, looking at her in jealousy and anger.

"I know," said Mom, or Stephanie.

"But how?" I repeated though somehow I managed to keep my voice calm.

"You can tell. Just like I can tell you wanna climb Ann."

The first feeling that hit me when she said that was shame, utter shame. I had no idea she knew I fancied her friend Ann.

Granted, I acted like a puppy in front of Ann, always trying to please her, and my eyes were all over her breasts, but I was under the impression that I didn't make it so obvious.

Ann was 5'5, had black hair, brown eyes, and a big rack that stood out on her petite frame. And boy, she loved showing that rack. I think she only bought tops and dresses that displayed her assets. That she was single and had no children further attracted me as my 18-year-old brain told me she was available.

Just then, a thought flashed through my mind that I should ask Mom whether Ann fancied me, but of course, I didn't.

We were by now on the dirt track and halfway through the hiking trail. Usually, there were fellow hikers, but today, there was nobody, probably due to the weather.

"You've gone awfully silent. What happened?" Mom asked.

"I'm thinking you promised me a special gift on my birthday last week, but you still haven't given it," I replied in a desperate attempt to change the topic.

"Maybe today if the nature permits. It all depends on the weather gods," she said.

"At least tell me what it is. All you've told me it's something I've wanted to see for a long time."

"Then wait a little more," she replied, taking a swig from the water bottle.

We walked the rest of the way in silence. On our way back, the rain gods, as feared, didn't just start smiling but went into full-throttle laughter. Since we were on a dirt track and surrounded by bushes and rocks, sprinting our way to safety was impossible. By the time we managed to take shelter under a medieval structure that had a half-surviving roof built of clay tiles and only three granite walls, we were completely drenched.

"Holy smoke! We are wet," she said as she leaned her 5'10 body against a wall and untied her hair to dry it.

"I told ya it was gonna rain," I commented, wiping my wet face and head with the wet T-shirt.

"Oh my God, are you afraid of catching a cold? What if you catch a cold? Will you die? Or, God forbid, what if you have to sneeze? Will sneezing kill you?" she remarked.

I ignored her and looked at the sky as it poured down. Taking out a tin box in which she kept her joints from her bag, she asked me to hold it. She took out a lighter from the bag, lit the joint and, after taking two long drags, extended it to me.

"Go on, you're 18 now. It won't kill you," she said.

"You really believe I'm a sissy or something, don't you?" I asked, staring at her blue eyes.

"I don't believe it, I know it. I'll prove it to you," she said as she stared back at my blue eyes.

"Have you ever had this?"

"No," I replied.

"When I was your age, I was rolling joints like you roll on the bed dreaming about Ann."

"I don't dream about Ann," I hissed in mock anger.

"Of course, you do," she said, blowing the smoke right on my face.

"And how did you ask Julia out? Didn't you ask one of your friends to tell her that you liked her? By the time I was 18, I had more boyfriends than men on the Moon. Talking about Julia, have you, you know..."

She made a circle with the index finger and her thumb and penetrated it with the other index finger.

"You should lay off that stuff," I said, pointing at the joint.

"Better hurry up or she'll be smoking someone else's joint. Pussy."

I don't know why but my eyes instinctively went to her green shorts, which were sticking to her wet skin like honey sticks to fingers.

"I didn't mean that! If you wanna look, look at Julia's," she growled, straightening her shorts at the crotch area.

I immediately shifted my gaze away from her crotch.

"OK, here's another one. Have you ever seen actual porn? I don't mean the garbage on the Internet. I mean sitting down and watching a proper one."

"What's a proper one?" I inquired, taking a drag of the joint and going into a coughing fit.

"That you have to ask proves you haven't. Unbelievable. Sometimes I find it hard to accept you are my son."

She leaned against the wall and took off the wet light jacket. I was standing opposite her with the joint in my hand and leaning my 5'11 frame against the second wall. She wiped her hair, her face, and her neck, but the jacket itself was wet, so it didn't help much. Her hair and neck were still wet. I immediately averted my eyes, but she started speaking, so I looked back at her. However, using all my inner strength, I kept my gaze on her face, much, much higher than the twin peaks.

"I've discovered a shop that sells wild tops. Do you like this one?" she said, looking down at the wet top.

It was a white tube top that was just a thin piece of cloth over her breasts, leaving her shoulders, cleavage, and her whole stomach exposed. And since the top was completely drenched, her pink nipples, her areolas and the around them were on display as they pressed against the wet material. It was evident she wasn't wearing a bra.

"I've bought a bunch of them for both of us. Will show you when we get home."

She sensed I was avoiding looking at her wet top, so she said, "Come on. They are, to use the term you guys like, just tits. Ann also has them."

"You are obsessed with Ann," I commented, taking another drag of the joint.

"Nah, I like mine, they are firmer. Since we are talking about firm things, tell me the craziest thing you have done," she said as she sat down on a log.

"Whaddya mean?"

Though I desperately wanted to see her nipples and her big tits, especially as I had wanted to see them for so long and knew now was my chance, for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to look at her breasts. I just knew they were there and that the two cherries were staring at me.

"OK, I'll start. When I was in school, a friend got a Sony video camera, it was very expensive, very high-end. She was shooting and I and another girl were just fooling around, you know, posing like models and making stupid faces. Then we started making noises like those porn stars make. It was crazy. I still have that tape somewhere. Now, it's your turn."

"I don't know. I don't think I've done anything crazy."

"Go on, tell me something."

"I really don't know."

"Then let's go home. It's not gonna stop raining anytime soon, and we are already wet, so let's get wet some more," she said as she got up.

"Won't you put this on?" I asked, pointing at the jacket.

"Is my boy afraid someone might see his mom's ripe melons?" she said as she put her arm around my waist and pressed one of her melons against my arm.

"Don't worry, nobody's here," she said, wrapping the jacket around her waist.

Since it was still raining, the top was sticking to her skin, revealing just about every inch of her breasts. Thankfully, she put on the jacket once we left the dirt track. As soon as we reached home, we straight away went to our bathrooms to shower and change clothes.

When I came out of my room, she was bending down and putting some clothes on the couch in the living room. She was wearing jeans and was barefoot. Her breasts, including her nipples were bare, as she was topless.

"Ian, try this T-shirt," she said as she picked up a black T-shirt and straightened her back.

"You put on your clothes. I'll come back later," I said, turning back on my heels.

"Try it. You've seen them anyway, so why act so shy now? Put it on and lemme see."

So, I turned back and took the T-shirt from her hand without looking at her assets.

"It fits perfectly," she said as she came and stood before me, with her naked boobs inches away from me, and adjusted the tee over my shoulders.

"You like it?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's cool," I replied.

"Now lemme try mine."

"Isn't that a bit much?" I asked as I saw her wearing a tight brown mesh top that was exposing her front body through the mesh.

"I'm not gonna wear it like this outside. I think it looks great. Let's see how this looks," she said, picking up another top.

It was skin-colored and had a low cut that was revealing her whole ample coverage, and her voluptuous breasts were straining against the tank top. The words Milky Way were written on it in pink.

With her constantly changing in and out of tops, standing there topless with her tits moving with every movement meant I was offered a full view of her boobs, her back, and her stomach. Every inch of her skin was as visible as my hand. What made the moment more special was the fact that she made no effort at all to hide them. Where until yesterday even a peek of her cleavage was difficult, today her assets were on full display.

"So, the weather gods were happy today and you got your gift. Now go change while I fix us breakfast."

"What, is this the gift?"

"Go change, and while you are changing, think about what I said about you seeing something you had wanted to see for a long time. It's really something that you gift something to someone and they don't even realize it. Now go."

It was only when I reached my room and was changing that it hit me that she meant her breasts. Holy fuck! Her gift was her showing me her tits. I mean, she obviously meant that. I was pretty sure she meant her voluptuous boobs. Fuck!

"That was a really nice gift," I said as I sat down in the kitchen.

Mom, who was still wearing jeans and that Milky Way top, replied, "You liked the T-shirt?"

"Yes, and also the other gift."

"What other gift? Just eat your breakfast," she said, sliding the butter to me.

"I need milk for the coffee," I said as I took the last bite of the toast.

"But you drink your coffee black," she replied.

"True. But today I want some fresh milk from the Milky Way," I said as I lifted my face and looked at her top.

"Oh! So my boy is finally discovering his tongue. Good. Very good. Sorry, that Milky Way is too far away. Maybe try planet Ann or planet Julia. After all, those were the mission's first preference. The mission should stick to its original route."

"Fine. It's the Milky Way's loss. The mission will land on both planet Ann and planet Julia. And not just land. The spacecraft will also plant a huge flag there," I replied as I sipped the black coffee.

"Good luck. It looks like the spacecraft doesn't have the equipment necessary to probe this Milky Way. Go explore lesser planets."

"We will see," I said, getting up from the table.

Our daily routine was simple. In the morning, we ran together for an hour. Then she went to the office, she worked in the human resource department of a local company, and I went to school. After school, I worked for three hours in a restaurant, serving customers. In the evening, we went for a 20-minute walk. On the weekends, we went hiking in the morning, and then I worked in the restaurant for eight hours, and we walked after dinner. That was our routine. In the summer, we swam in the creek if the weather was good and we had time.

I called the restaurant where I worked and told them I wasn't feeling well and spent the whole day at home, even dumping one of my best friends, Derek, who wanted me to come over to his place to play video games. Usually, I spent my time playing video games, listening to music, or fantasizing about Anna, Julia, or even Mom, but not today. Today, I wanted to be near her, beside her, around her, just anywhere where I could see her ample assets in their full glory. When she was making her bed, I was there. I was there when she bent down to tuck the bed sheet under the mattress, offering me a view of her breasts as her bending down caused her tits to push together, accentuating her cleavage. I was there when she was arranging her cupboard and even when she was working on her laptop.

The next evening, I was in the living room watching Michael Phelps on the TV beat his opponents when I heard the car pull into the driveway and knew she was back from work. I switched off the TV and went to the door to welcome her. Taking the take-out she was carrying, I followed her to her room.

"I've got Chinese. Hope it's fine," she said, putting her handbag on the bedside table.

"Yeah, sure," I replied as I lay down on the bed, resting my body on my elbows and my feet on the floor.

"How was the day?" I asked.

"Not super busy. Why aren't you out with Derek and others?"

"Not in the mood," I said.

"You are home a lot. Is everything OK?" she inquired, as she took off her shoes and looked at me, and I saw her pink lips curl in a smile.

"Everything's fine," I answered.

"Then help me unbuckle this," she said. She turned her back toward me, started unbuttoning her shirt, and threw it in the laundry basket. With her back still toward me, she stood there in a bra and a knee-length skirt. I immediately stood up and held the straps of the bra with both my hands, but the thing refused to come off. I bent down and, bringing my eyes as close to the straps as possible, peered at the hooks and again tried to unbuckle them and somehow succeeded after lots of struggling. Her hands were on her shoulders and her fingers on the straps, so the bra didn't fall. She buckled the straps once more and said, "That was clumsy. Girls won't like it. Put your middle and index fingers under the strap like this, and then move the other strap with your thumb like this in one smooth movement."

She demonstrated it and the hooks came off in a single motion.

"Go on, try again."

So, I did as she told me and it was less clumsy than before.

"Do it again," she ordered.

So, I tried once more and, after two more attempts, I was able to unbuckle the bra in one movement like she wanted.

"Good. Now open that second drawer and get the purple bra that's there," she said as she took off her bra and stood there in just the skirt.

She took the purple bra from me and put it on.

"Now do this one," she said.

I went behind her, but there were no hooks there.

"They are in front," she said without looking at me.

I went before her, and she was right: the hooks were in front.

"Repeat the same process," she said as she stood there with her hands on her sides.

I bent down and pushed my middle and index fingers under the strap between her voluptuous boobs and my thumb over the strap. This was the first time my fingers were touching the skin of her breasts and my face was so close. The blue veins criss-crossing the white skin of her tits were as prominent as a stream of blue water streaming down a creek. Her pink nipples were inches away from my mouth.

"This will make Ann happy," she said as I opened her bra with a flick of my fingers.

"I don't care about her," I said as she placed her hands on her tits and took off the bra, exposing her boobs.

She simply nodded her head and started walking to the bathroom.

"After taking care of yourself, warm up the food," she said, closing the bathroom door.

It took me a moment to realize what she meant, so I rushed to my room, took "care" of myself, and was heating the food when she came back wearing an old shirt and shorts. After dinner, we went for a walk and she told me if Ann asked me how or where I learned the trick, I should say the Internet.

"Why would Ann ask me that?" I said.

"OK, if Julia asks," she replied.

"So, how are things with Julia? Have you reached the first base, third base?"

I stayed silent.

"Oh, come on. Spill the beans on whether you've spilled the beans," she said.

I mumbled something.

"What?" she said.

"First base," I answered.

"She seems to be taking it slow."

"No, I've moved on," I replied.

"Moved on to whom?" she inquired.

"It's a secret," I commented.

"Is she good?"

"The best," I replied.

"Why is she the best?"

"'Cause she is."

"You mean her body?"

"Everything," I said.

"When will I meet her?"

"Be patient."

"So, have you...you know, touched any bases?"

"Should I?"

"Since it's a secret and I don't know her, all I would say is be patient. Don't be in a rush," she replied.

She spent the rest of the evening doing office work, and I reluctantly picked up my school books. The next evening, she was lying on the bed, with her head resting against the headboard, and was doing something on her laptop, and I was flipping through one of her magazines. I was sitting on a chair with my legs on the bed and her legs were on my legs. She suddenly got up and rushed to the kitchen and from there she shouted, "I was about to order something. The page is open, just click it, and order it."

I dragged the laptop toward me. First, I thought I was looking at some ad, but no, it was Victoria Secret's website and the page was showing a model wearing nothing except a bra with underwire and other words written below it. Mom was obviously buying bras from the website. I pushed her credit card aside and started looking at the bras in different colors all the while thinking that Mom was showing me the bras she wanted to buy and which will soon cup her voluptuous boobs. The thought made my cock hard.

"Have you ordered it?" she said from the kitchen.

"Umm, no. Doing it," I replied, looking at the lace bra.

I clicked on "Order", but then it asked me to choose the size. Now, how the fuck would I know her size? All I knew was that they were big.

"You do it," I said as I looked at other models displaying bras.

"I'm making dinner. What's the problem? Stop looking at the photos and order it," she said, standing next to me and looking at the laptop.

I clicked "Order" again, and again it asked me to select the size.

"What? Don't you know my size? So opening my drawers and checking out my bras and panties was for nothing? What were you doing with them? Wait, I don't wanna know. OK, get up and get the tape measure."

As I got the measuring tape, she took off her top and stood there in jeans.