Women Make the Man Ch. 01 Pt. 02

This is the second installment of a longer work. "Women Make the Man" Ch1, Pt 1 precedes it. Although this story stands alone, I recommend reading from the beginning.

All characters in the story are over 18.

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Mom had been busy unpacking and organizing, getting things ready for our summer in the cottage. I had just turned 18, and this would be my last summer before leaving for college.

My mother was in her late 30's, about 5'8" tall with a body that still recalled the beauty contest winner that she was. It was not that she was flashy in any way, but extremely well put together. "Built like a brick shithouse," one of my uncles said.

She was dressed casually wearing one of my dad's shirts with the tails tied up under her boobs (her "bust" as she called them), a red headband holding back her dark hair, and black pedal pushers that complemented her shapely legs.

"Billy, I need your strong arms to get these boxes out of here and put them up in the garage."

"OK, Mom," I said.

I loaded up an armful of cardboard boxes and made my way toward the door. Mom slapped my butt as I walked by. "You're a good looking guy. You know that?"

"OK Mom."

"Whew! That's a lot of work!" she said as I came back through the door. She plopped in a chair and pulled off her headband, running her hands through her hair. "Want some iced tea?"

"Yeah sure."

She stood up and untied the shirt as she headed for the 'fridge. Setting the tea down on the table I noticed her cleavage and the white bra she wore: 36C.

I knew her bra size from all the shopping trips we took together before I started first grade. My aunt and my mom would make a day of trekking through all the department stores on Washington Street. I was especially fond of the lingerie section. All the straps, buckles, hooks, and clasps seemed like engineering marvels. I still remember the smell of a rubberized girdle.

I used to stay in the room with my mother and aunt while they changed, thinking nothing of their naked female bodies. About the time I turned five, my aunt firmly suggested that I was getting too old to be hanging out with the ladies. My mom would have let me stay, but according to my aunt's new rule I was banished from the realm of nude women. I'd been trying to get back there ever since.

TV reception wasn't always the best on the Island. It had only been in the last couple years that we had a TV at all. On a good night you could get the Boston stations without too much static. Tonight was pretty clear. My mom wanted to watch Peyton Place, so she stayed downstairs. I said I thought I'd just go upstairs and read.

Our cottage was a simple saltbox that had been added to over the years. The kitchen and living room were on the first floor, while the second was sleeping quarters. Not a bedroom, more of a dorm style situation. My dad's bed was close to the stairs, mine was over by the window, my mom's was in the middle.

The floorboards upstairs were old planks with gaps between them. Yes, I had planned to read some, but my ulterior motive was that my bed was located directly over the bathroom. Looking through the gap, I could get a pretty good view of the bathtub and the mirror over the toilet and vanity.

Spying on my mother might seem a little weird, but a young man's sex drive is a powerful thing. Back at the city house there were no such opportunities. This was one of the things I liked about the old cottage. Yes, she was my mother, but right now she was the closest female body.

I heard her turn off the TV and head to the bathroom. I got down on the floor and squinted through the crack.

I watched as she took off the shirt and unfastened her bra. She let it slip forward over her arms and placed it on the vanity. It felt good to free her tits. She pulled them out in front and scratched and rubbed them. I will say my mom had great tits. Round and perfectly shaped.

Topless, she took off her makeup, then stood up and pulled off her pants. She started the water for a bath. This would be good. I had an excellent view of the tub

I watched as she took off her white panties and sat on the toilet. I could hear the sound of her pee hit the water. She wiped her pussy clean and moved over to the tub. Shutting the water off she gingerly stepped in.

She laid back. I could see her perfect breasts outlined by the water. Round with upright nipples.

There was a roundness to her belly that added to the sensuality of her body. She was a woman with curves. Her butt was round and firm. Her hips flowed from her waist down to her firm thighs. She always wore red polish on her toenails that flashed against the pale white of her skin.

But most special was her pussy — a brunette triangle as perfectly formed as the rest of her body. I don't know if she ever realized how beautiful it was.

She began to bathe, moving the dripping washcloth around her neck and shoulders. Washing her underarms, I could see her breasts move in concert, lifting as she raised her arm. She then washed under and around her tits. Her left hand raised her left breast while she bathed underneath. Then she repeated the same motion on her right.

Working her way down to her pussy, she raised her knees and put her hand and the washcloth between her legs. She washed carefully, being sure to get both sides against her thighs, and scrubbing her bush clean.

Then with both hands, soap and water down her legs to her toes.

She lay back in the tub and the warm water covered her belly, boobs, and cunt.

I just watched her lay there enjoying the sensation. I was lying flat on my belly peering through the gap. My cock was pressing hard on the wooden floor.

Then the beautiful woman whose privacy I was stealing, got up and squatted in the tub. One last thing, she reached around with the washcloth and ran it through the crack in her ass. Then she got out and toweled off.

Her boobs bounced as she rubbed the towel across her back. She wiped each tit separately making sure they were dry underneath. With the towel in her hand, she rubbed her pussy until it was dry. She slid the towel down each leg and dried her feet.

Then, still totally nude, she sat down at the vanity and brushed her hair. In the mirror I could see her boobs bounce in rhythm to the brush strokes. Looking straight down, I could make out the shadow between her legs.

In the summer, my mom wore a white cotton nightie. The thin fabric would cling to her body outlining every curve. She pulled the nightie over her head and turned out the light.

Quickly I jumped into bed and pretended to sleep. She came up the stairs and even though the light was dim, I watched as the cotton fabric flowed and clung to her braless form. I could just make out the dark patch of pubic hair through the thin cloth. I could see her boobs sway as she climbed into bed. She lay on her side, and I could make out the curve of her hip.

I waited patiently with my cock in my hand until I thought she had drifted off to sleep. I didn't want to attract too much attention, so I lay with my back to her, gently stroking my erect penis as it stuck out of my pajama bottoms.

A load of cum exploded into my clean white sheets.

(To be continued...)