“No way,” she said. “I’d rather put that off as long as possible. Let’s both have milk and a brownie instead.”
We had the milk and a delicious homemade brownie. As Mom was clearing the two plates and glasses she asked in a half-asky voice: “Soooo, you really think that would be a good idea?”
“What?”
“If we, you know, saw each other naked first today. No surprises tomorrow.”
“Only if you do.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“You’re the one who’s nervous. I’m all for it. We have enough to think about tomorrow night. Mom, I want to see you naked today. Let’s cross that off.”
“Uhhmm. Well … okay, I’m going to take a shower. When you hear the water stop, give me five more minutes and then meet me in my bedroom. Okay?”
“Got it,” I said.
Mom left the kitchen and her son who was thinking: “I’m going to see my mom absolutely naked!”
The next fifteen minutes seemed like the longest in my life. That water kept running and running.
I had seen Auntie Lee naked and Mrs. Branch naked. That was already a lot more naked mature women than I had ever seen naked before.
And now I was going to add my own mother to the list. Naked. Totally naked.
The water stopped, and I’m not saying I was eager, but I set the timer on my phone for five minutes.
The alarm went off and I headed down to Mom’s (and Dad’s, but he doesn’t count today) bedroom. I knocked.
“C’mon in.”
Mom was standing in front of her full-length oval mirror that tilted. I think she called it a Cheval. She was brushing her long, black, wet hair.
“There,” she said. She was wearing a white terrycloth robe. “Sure we want to do this?” she asked with a nervous giggle.
I pulled off my t-shirt in response. That left me with just my black running shorts.
“You’ll be kind, right?” she asked. Her hands were at the sash holding the robe closed.
I took hold of the waistband of my shorts and pulled them down and kicked them to the corner. Mom untied the sash, opened the robe and let it slip to the floor.
Her eyes never left my crotch. I had a raging hardon.
Mom’s body was gorgeous. Taller than either Auntie Lee or Mrs. Branch, she had long, full curves that were more femininely womanly than either of them.
She was fit and lean, but not skinny. She had muscle smoothed over with just the right amount of padding to give her contours that anybody in the world would call “sexy.”
Her breasts were large—bigger than I expected, but thinking back, she always wore clothes that kind of camouflaged her chest. They were bigger than Auntie Lee’s, and probably a little bigger than Mrs. Branch’s, although they didn’t quite look it because Mom was so much taller.
Thin blue veins tributaried all over Mom’s boobs, showing through the pale skin.
They stood higher than Mrs. Branch’s and Mom’s areolae were light brown of a bigger diameter than Joan’s. Mom’s nipples jutted out from the surface like big rounded half cherries, and with a reddish-pink color. They looked delicious.
“I breastfed you, you know.”
“Can I suck one now?”
“Michael, no. This is to make things easier, to become accustomed to each other. Remember the purpose of this all. It’s to make a baby, not to have sex. Sex is just the vehicle that will allow the miracle to happen.”