Mother and son family taboo incest sex story… I came home from riding my bike in the scorching midday sun, feeling heated and a little dehydrated. It was my own fault; with temperatures reaching over 100 degrees, it might not have been the most ideal time of day for outdoor exercise, but I was a bit pressed for time. I was supposed to enter a race next week, and as I was still recovering from a mild case of the flu, I had taken out my bike and made a fifty-mile practice round in the hills to see if I was up for it. I was worn-out and a bit sore, but it felt good and my time was even better than I had hoped. I was confident that, if I ate well and hit the gym every day, I’d be back in shape for the race.
I parked my racing bike in the garage, took off my shoes and walked back to the house. As I entered the house, it appeared to be deserted. I called out to say I was home, but there was no response. It wasn’t that unusual, and it didn’t necessarily mean there was nobody home. My sister was probably in her room, talking on the phone or listening to her music, and who knows what my parents were up to. I was racking my brain trying to remember if mom had said anything about being away today or if she’d left any instructions for dinner. Maybe there was a memo from her on the fridge. As I walked into the kitchen, I was greeted by the smell of my mother’s famous lasagna cooking in the oven. There was no note, but at least I knew I wasn’t expected to do any cooking today.
I poured myself a large glass of Gatorade and then chased it down with a glass of water. A quick glance at the kitchen timer told me there were still thirty minutes before the lasagna was done, so there was ample time for me to grab a shower. I ran upstairs, pulling off my shirt as I went. The light was on in the bathroom, but the door was ajar. Without thinking, I pushed open the door and entered the bathroom. What I saw inside, stopped me dead in my tracks and made my jaw drop.
Right in front of me was my mother, sitting on the rim of the tub and calmly painting her toenails. She had a towel tied around her breasts, but it did little to protect her modesty. Because of the way she was sitting, with one foot on the floor and the other up on the rim, I was staring right between her legs. To my shock, I was being treated to a breathtaking view of my mother’s naked pussy. I could see all of its forbidden glory, from her immaculately shaven pubic mound to her puckered asshole, and just about everything in between.
There was no way mom could not have noticed me standing in the doorway, but she didn’t acknowledge my presence and kept applying red lacquer to each of her little toenails. She didn’t even close her legs or covered her pussy up in any way. The sight of her naked sex was incredibly alluring, and even though I was well aware this was my mother I was gawking at, I could not stop myself from looking.
I don’t know how long I was standing there; I had lost all track of time as I studied the intimate details of my mother’s sex. It was the first real naked pussy I had ever seen, and I thought it was the most intriguing, and in its own way, beautiful thing in the world. She had fat outer labia that were parted slightly, just enough to reveal the fleshy fold covering her clit and her wrinkly inner lips. The smaller inner lips protruded a little from the outer lips and had a soft coral shade that contrasted beautifully with the pale, milky skin that surrounded them.