“Why not, Mom? The last twenty odd years have been pretty great, don’t you think? Let’s aim for another twenty. And besides, every girl I’ve met so far at college has been an idiot.”
She put the hair brush down and shook her head rather theatrically, causing her breasts to jiggle delightfully and forcing me to look at them again. “I might have thought you were gay but at least I know that’s not the case,” she said with a grin, meeting my eyes in the mirror. Busted again.
Still smiling, she got up and made her way to the closet and took out her light pink nightgown.
Every other night, EVERY other night, she had turned away from me as she put on her gown and THEN reached behind to unhook her bra. Not tonight.
Facing me, she casually reached behind and unhooked the snaps of her bra. My mouth went dry. With a slight shrug of her shoulders, the bra slipped to the floor, baring her naked breasts to me in all their glory.
I’m always hard while I watch my Mother undress, yet over the years, I have learnt enough to keep a small part of my brain functioning in order to be able to make basic conversation. Unfortunately, once I saw her naked tits, the small portion of blood that keeps my brain going abandoned ship and fled down to my cock. I have NEVER been harder or more aroused in my life than at that moment.
Where do I start? How can I even begin to describe how incredible my Mother’s breasts are? I had got brief glimpses over the years but never the full show. Full. Ripe. Supple. Fantastic. Magnificent. Tempting. I used to think they were large, but they were LARGE. Like two generous scoops of vanilla ice-cream. Her areolas were a pinkish-brown. Her nipples were dead centered and I swear I could hear them calling out to me to suck them. A very slight hint of sag, but to me that made them all the more sexier.
I was vaguely aware that Mom was still talking to me. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m pretty sure my heart had stopped beating for those few glorious moments. Maybe I had died and gone to heaven and these were the pearly gates I had heard about. She reached for the gown and put it on.
“Sweetie?” she repeated, pulling her gown close and breaking the spell she had on me.
“Wha ma?” I managed to get out.
“I said could you come downstairs and help me around the kitchen in a bit?”
“Sure Mom,” I managed to croak.
Giving my painfully obvious and painfully aroused cock an amused glance, she walked out to make dinner.
*************************
Having heroically managed to subdue my boner, I went downstairs to help Mom with dinner. Well, not really. As I have mentioned, cooking really isn’t my forte, and with the salad done, there really wasn’t much else for me to do. So I just stood in a corner and stared at her as she busied herself around the kitchen. God, I loved her so much it actually hurt.
We kept chatting away as she went about preparing our meal. I’m not really a people person, but it was sooo easy talking to Mom. I really loved telling her about my boring day. I loved listening to her. I loved making her laugh – my heart would jump when I succeeded. I felt that I could – and I did – tell her anything and everything.