The Lighthouse

When I finally came from the bathroom, Mom was already in bed, lights out. I slunk into my side and said not another word to her. Nor her to me.

Yeah. I'd blown it.

*

Fishing in the morning from the jetty, an impressive catch. Much of the day was spent in the lighthouse painting. Yes, I was avoiding her. I wanted to admit how I felt. I wanted to admit everything. But how? How does a son confess his desire for his mother? It could destroy everything if it wasn't reciprocated. And, of course, it wasn't. What had she done? Worn pajamas. Admittedly sexy pajamas. Wasn't that it? Hardly anything else that could be described as an invitation.

I stood on the stairs and stretched my back. The ground floor door and all the windows circling up the lighthouse were open for airflow and as I dropped to retrieve the paint can from a lower step, I swore I heard a male voice in whisper. I stood erect and heard nothing but the wind entering the windows. The sound of the ocean. And then, ever so faintly, a woman's laughter from above. A shiver ran down my spine. Halfway up the lighthouse, there was no way Mom could've been above me. She was adamant against climbing the stairs anyway. What was it? I stood frigid. Awaiting the sound once more, but it didn't come. I then came to my senses. Seagulls. I'd seen them roosting at the top of the light and to put my mind at ease, I lay down my brush and climbed the rest of the way to the top.

Again, the awesome view. The crisp breeze on my face. I circled the house containing the Fresnel lens and stopped in my tracks. There were no gulls. No mystery woman laughing or man whispering. What I did see, was my mother, naked.

Behind the residence was a secluded lawned yard surrounded by a hedge. Containing the clothesline which currently held lightly swaying sheets, I was aware Mom had also set up one of the lounge chairs to read outside in the sun out of the wind. She now lay in said chair, sunning herself. And even from my distance, I could see she was completely nude. I hugged the edge of the house so as not to be seen, then thought of the binoculars inside the glass room itself, moving back around to enter the enclosure.

By the time I had them up to my eyes, she'd changed position and was laying on her stomach, her bare bottom toward the sky. Her full exposure was essentially lost to me, it didn't stop me from reaching down to unzip my pants and produce my erect cock.

I then took a good hard look at myself. What was I doing? Cumming in my pants. Now spying on her from a distance like a common peeping Tom. Jerking off at every opportunity like a chronic masturbator. I was ashamed, and my dick, despite the inspiration it had before it, lost its vigor. It was then something else caught my attention. I lifted the binoculars back to my eyes and focused on the jetty, my heart beating rapidly at what I saw.

"Holy shit!" I gasped.

Mom was dressed when I raced into the residence, her face flushed, no doubt relieved I'd not come back moments earlier or was she!?

"You won't believe this!" I gasped, trying to catch my breath as I ran to the fridge and retrieved the plastic container from the top shelf.

"What?" Mom excitedly questioned.

"Come with me," I reached out for her hand and dragged her squealing out of the house toward the jetty. "It's Mayhew's friend!"

*

"I'm not dressed for visitors," Mom reflected as I pulled her behind me and though I'd noted her clothing when I entered the residence, I was now able to look back and admire her fully. A flowery summer dress that caught the breeze even as I glanced, lifting and flashing upper thigh. The buttons on the bust were undone and it was clear she wore no bra. Was she even wearing panties?

"He won't mind," I laughed.

"I haven't done my face," she added as we reached the stairs down to the jetty and I stopped and smiled.

"I don't think he'll care," I turned her attention to our visitor laying in the sun at the end of the dock.

"Oh my god," Mom's eyes widened, looking at me excitedly before we hurried down the steps.

There was no doubt in my mind this was Mayhew's friend. An enormous sea lion lazily rose to greet us as we gingerly made our way along the jetty.

"Now I know why you brought the fish," Mom whispered as we stopped at a sensible distance, waiting for its reaction. Clearly a male due to its size, and obviously advanced in years, scars upon its body, grey around the face, he sniffed the air and let out a friendly yet tired bark.

"Hello old man," I opened the container and lifted out the fish I'd caught that morning.

"Should we be doing this?" Mom questioned the appropriateness of feeding a wild animal but seeing the excitement in the creature to the smell of the fish and with Mayhew's own words of approval, I figured our minor intervention wouldn't do any harm.

The animal caught the admittedly small fish in its mouth and devoured it whole. Letting out a contented bark before ignoring us once more and getting back to the important business of sunning itself.

"How cool is that!?" I reflected and felt Mom press into my side as we stood and watched our visitor. She didn't need to answer.

*

"I want to go up!" Mom stated as we walked back from the jetty, her eyes on the lighthouse.

"You're serious?" I was shocked, to say the least. Mom's fear of heights kicking in when wearing stilettos!

"It's time I conquered a fear," Mom stopped and I looked into her eyes. "Seeing that old seal..."

"Sea Lion," I corrected her, smiling.

"...sea lion. You don't know long you have left. Your father..." She paused and I understood what she meant. "I just want to do everything before it's too late. And you'll be there to help me."

"I will," I took her hand and we headed up to the lighthouse.

It was her idea to take the lead, honestly. But I wouldn't have wished it any other way as we began the climb up the stairs. Around the spiral staircase, we ascended and I never took my eyes off her. Two steps behind, I looked directly up her skirt the entire way. An earlier question was answered. She wasn't wearing panties. For a good five minutes, stopping at each open window for her to catch her breath and see how high we'd risen, I stared directly into her admittedly shadowed asshole and pussy. Her buttocks swaying seductively as she climbed. Surely, she was aware of my vantage. Had she planned it?

We made it to the house and after Mom had admired the intricate design of the lens, I opened the door out onto the balcony and led her out. With her clammy hand tight in mine, she tentatively stepped forth into the breeze and straight away sought my arms.

"Hold me," she begged, her body trembling as I wrapped my arms around her from behind, keeping her safe as she gripped the edge of the railing.

"Your safe," I whispered into her ear, my arms around her waist, my groin against the softness of her bottom. Could she feel it? The ever-growing hardness of my cock pressed between her cheeks. Just as it'd been in bed. Only now awake. Real.

"It's beautiful," she described, what? My erection? My hands gently caressing her warm and supple belly? "You can see forever," she elaborated, releasing a hand from the railing to shield her eyes from the sun. "Let's go around."

We walked the circuit of the lighthouse and Mom looked down upon the buildings, her eyes sighting the courtyard behind the residence as I once more embraced her from behind

"You can see everything," she whispered against my cheek.

"Yep," I agreed, hopefully admitting to her I saw her naked not an hour before. "And you're right. It's beautiful."

She pulled my arms tighter around her waist. My still erect penis, hard against her ass.

"Thank you for this," she sighed. "For today. For bringing me here, to this island."

I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to lower a hand to cup her vagina and declare my love. But there was that impediment. The final barrier that stood in the way of our eternal happiness. Taboo. What if everything I was thinking was a delusion? The horror and sheer discomfort of rejection. Not like a random woman in a bar. This would be world ending.

"It's my pleasure Mom," I admitted and I did it. Kissed her. Her cheek. Not her lips. Nor her breasts or between her legs. A familial kiss. That of a son to his mother. And she took it as such. Furthermore, went on to remind me that I was her son and therefore nothing would ever, could ever happen between us.

"You know what day it is tomorrow, don't you?"

"No idea," I admitted. Content in the lack of knowledge, more interested in discussing us. "Thursday?"

She laughed. "No, silly. It's Sunday in fact. But what I mean is, it's your birthday!"

*

It was a revelation. I was genuinely surprised over a month had gone by and as we walked back to the residence, Mom asked me again.

"So, what do you think? Take the day off? We have to do something special."

It was a bizarre thought. Every day seemed like a holiday on the island. Yes, I was working. Some days quite hard. But the nature of the job, the relaxing environment. It was hard to believe I was being paid (quite handsomely in fact) to be here.

"What did you have in mind?" I questioned and she'd obviously been thinking about it.

"Well, it's so much warmer now. Why don't we go for a swim? Spend a day at the beach?" She proposed and I was quick to agree.

*

Mom had read it. And with her suggestion, I began the Delia Caster biography myself. Sitting on the couch, I was distracted as Mom walked from the dresser and searched the drawers, back to where the suitcases were stored and delved inside, opening one then another in what was seemingly turning into a fruitless quest.

"What are you looking for?" I questioned and she turned to me, hands on hips.

"I mustn't have packed them!" She answered.

"What?"

"My swimsuits!" She frowned. "I remember putting them on my bed," she paused. "I must have left them at home."

It was disappointing news to be sure. But also raised possibilities. I fancifully saw us swimming naked but kept the idea to myself.

"Oh shit. What about the beach?" I asked and watched her purse then twist her lips.

"Oh, I'll figure something out," she shrugged and I got back to reading the book, my mind however still swimming naked with my mother.

*

"Oh, no you don't!" Mom swatted my hand away from the cake where, as per tradition since childhood, I was about to scoop up a finger of the chocolate frosting. "Not until I've sung happy birthday."

"I'm thirty-six. It's just you and me here. You're not singing me happy birthday!" I disregarded her assertion and had another go at the irresistible chocolate buttercream. This time successful.

"Agh!" Mom caught my hand on its journey back to my mouth and we struggled. "Daniel Briggs. I'm your mother and you'll do as I say," we playfully arm-wrestled in the small kitchen area, stumbling backward the few feet to the bed.

"You won't win, I'm stronger than you," I declared as the back of her legs hit the mattress and we fell laughing onto its cushioned surface, my upper thigh coming to rest between her legs to press into her crotch. There was no denying how intimate was the position we'd accidentally found ourselves, my cock resting upon her hip. With both of her hands wrapped around my wrist, she was incapable of protecting her ribs from my free hand and I set to tickling her to win the battle.

"No," she laughed, her wriggling causing her groin to grind up into my thigh, I felt, possibly more than was warranted. "Alright, alright. You win," she giggled, relenting, her fingers releasing my wrist and I ceased the tickle.

"Damn right," I smiled, prepared to sample the frosting as I lay atop her before she reneged and again quickly took hold of my wrist. The action was swift and caught me off guard as she brought my hand down towards her own mouth and wrapped her lips around the end of the finger. I 'won' alright!

With her eyes looking up into mine, Mom sealed my chocolate-covered index finger within her mouth, her cheeks sucking in as her tongue wrapped itself around me. The feeling indescribable. The grin was slowly lost from my face as I enjoyed the sensation. My mother sucking my finger.

It may've only lasted a few seconds. With total control of my hand, she pulled my finger further into her mouth, allowed it to slide out, then drew it back between her lips as if she were indeed sucking a cock. Finally, she released her hold, and my finger was returned to me, clean of chocolate yet slick with her saliva. My cock responded. Twitching against her hip as it filled with blood. In a panic, I pulled my crotch back from her body, though my thigh remained hard against the heat of her sex.

"We'll call it a draw then," I managed to voice and the intensity that had come over her face cracked and a smile returned.

"No, it's your day Baby," she grinned. "You can have whatever you want."

Did that mean her? I needed her to come out and say it, not these cryptic asides.

"Oh," she added. "That reminds me. Your present."

And it was over. My thigh was regrettably taken from between her legs and she rose to open the top drawer of the dresser.

"What? I don't need a present," I said as I used the opportunity to rearrange my erection to a more comfortable position.

"It's just a little something," Mom declared, turning back to me with a small box in hand. "Your father would've wanted it."

Confused, I took the unwrapped box from her and opened to find Dad's prized Jaeger-LeCoultre watch, the sight bringing back so many memories.

"He was going to give it to you for your fortieth," she informed me. "Now's as good a time as any."

"Mom," I rose and she accepted my embrace. "Thank you," I declared, genuinely grateful for the admittedly valuable gift. It was also another reminder I was her son. Nothing more. Despite my cock still being hard, nudging her soft belly. We wouldn't be having sex. Not now. Not ever. I sat back down on the bed as I admired the timepiece and wound the crown but was just as quickly distracted by Mom. Undressing.

"What are you doing?" I questioned as she removed her t-shirt and began to pull down her jeans.

"What!?" She frowned. "We're going for a swim, aren't we?" She pulled the jeans over her bare feet before standing before me in only a white bra and matching panties. "Well, I'm ready when you are!"

*

A towel was all she used to clothe herself. Wrapped around her waist, and only for the short walk to the beach. Abandoned upon the sand. When she hit the water, still cool despite the change of season, her underwear disappeared as well. Completely transparent it turned. And as she rose to stand in the shallow and we looked upon each other, she may as well have been naked.

And so it was that for an hour, two, we swam, laughed, and played upon our private beach. I chased her with seaweed and we fell into the small break of waves. She lay upon the towel in the sun and I without shame stared at her body. Her small nipples, rigid in the cups of her irrelevant bra. A perfect triangle of auburn pubic hair, pressed down by the saturated nylon of inconsequential panties. She was essentially naked. She was proud. And she was beautiful.

"What?" She rose to her elbows, her body stretched out before her as she returned my gaze, and a day before I would've looked away blushing, quick to divert. Not now.

"You," I smiled, squinting in the sunlight.

"What about me?" she raised a hand to shield her eyes.

"You're beautiful," I admitted, now willing to declare myself. Why? Maybe because it was my birthday. Maybe it was the culmination of events. Or maybe because I was done denying myself. Denying what was obviously happening between us. "Mom..."

"Yes?" Her eyes momentarily dropped to my groin, the obvious erection tenting my boardshorts before she again sought my eyes.

"Mom I want..." The sunlight faded behind dark clouds that appeared over the clifftop behind us. "...I want to..."

"Yes!" She whispered as large intermittent raindrops began to fall upon the sand.

"I want us to..." I paused as a crack of thunder hammered around us and the rain began, ending the moment. Cutting our time at the beach short. "We'd better go," I yelled as I rose from the towel and offered a hand to Mom as she stood, the rain becoming torrential as we left the sand. The path back to the buildings already turning to mud, Mom slipped and I helped her once more to her feet, surprised she was laughing amid the tumult. The temperature dropping, we ran in the downpour until we made it to the porch of the residence, catching our breath as we turned to look at the unexpected storm, the beam of the lighthouse kicking in automatically with the conditions.

"Well, that ended well," I reflected, unable to conceal my disappointment at what might have been about to occur on the beach. Now lost forever it seemed. I turned to Mom. Her still short hair, wet. Bra and panties still just as transparent yet spotted with dirt; grass and mud on her body and legs. And still, she was beautiful. And still, she smiled. "You can shower first if you want?" I offered and was surprised when without a word, she took my hand.

Silent, she led me into the residence and we walked dripping toward the bathroom. And as we entered together and I understood what was about to happen, my heart began to race.

"We shower together," Mom whispered, and as I watched, slipped her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and lowered them down her legs. She didn't wait for my response, turning her back to me to present the clasp of her bra. "Would you?"

Unable to swallow. Unable to think, I at least was able to work my fingers, effortlessly unclasping the hooks and allowing the damp bra to fall down her arms and watch as it was cast away with her panties.

She moved into the shower proper and without looking back, turned on the faucet, testing the water and only turning when she deemed it appropriate.

"You'll need to take them off," she dropped her eyes to my shorts, and realizing how stupid I must have looked standing there dumbfounded, I complied with her wishes.

And we were naked. Together. Mother and son sharing a shower. Yes, I'd seen her essential nudity for hours but now it was real and I couldn't take my eyes from her. My cock unashamedly declared its appreciation. Erect, it pointed directly at her as if reminding me she was where it wanted to go and as I moved under the flow of warm water, our bodies finally came into contact.

Mom offered me a soapy sponge and her back and I was eager to please, my hands caressing her skin, dropping to my knee to wash the mud from her legs, spending time on her buttocks. She turned and I was presented with her pussy. Water ran between her breasts and down her belly to fall from her pubic hair like a trickle of pee. My cock became harder as I rose before her, unashamedly poking her belly as she eyed her boobs, hinting where I was to wash next. Eager, I pressed the sponge against her chest before confidently cupping a breast, soaping one then the other, caressing her erect nipples as she lazily looked on.

And then the embrace. The sponge dismissed and our bodies coming together. If we were clothed it could've been innocent. A mother and son merely hugging. Such as it was, her breasts pressed my chest, my feet spread to allow my cock to slide between her thighs, sit snugly under her pussy, the head between her cheeks.

And there we stood. Locked in the other's arms, unspeaking. Her lips pressed my shoulder, nose nuzzled into my ear as her legs secured my affection. So intimate a moment, it could've lasted forever and with the subtlest of movement, my arms wrapping her torso, she had me cumming. Thigh fucked, I ejaculated from between her buttocks, spraying God knows how much seed upon the shower floor. And still, we embraced. I kissed her hair and she tilted her neck to reveal her ear. This I kissed and felt the pussy above my hardon quiver, a tremble pass through her body. "I love you," I whispered into her neck and her mouth was upon me, her tongue slipping between my lips to seek my own, and again I came. Gasping as jet after jet of incestuous cum surged from me in dedication to my mother, my lover.