I went back into the living room and stopped dead when I saw my Mom bent over the coffee table cushion. She was wearing her tee shirt … and oh my God, nothing else! Her head rested in her folded arms looking away from me. Her round bottom, barely covered by her tee shirt, stuck out so proudly. Her plump, hairy pussy lips, like a little nest, tucked beneath the globes of her ass and pinched between her thick thighs. My mouth was open and I was salivating at the sight. I remembered myself and walked over to my typical spot perpendicular to her and knelt again, taking my communion.
I began again as normal, working from her head down, neck, shoulders, spine and her soft sides. But with every movement her shirt rode up and up, and what was barely covering her butt at first had now slid up to the top of her butt-crack. I looked at it lovingly. I worked my way down her spine to the hem of her shirt.
“Go under again, Honey,” Mom said, her head still resting on her folded arms.
I took a deep, relaxing breath and went to the hem of her shirt and slid my hands under, resting them for a moment on her hips, her naked butt so sweet, inches away. My erection growing. I began working my way up now at her soft sides and up her spine. The shirt moved up with my movements exposing her back. Her freckles, her blemishes, her beauty marks, I admired them all. She lifted herself up off the cushion to let the shirt come up and bunch up under her arms. I didn’t notice it at first, but my hands roamed over her exposed back, so erotic and so lovely. But something was missing, and it took me a few minutes to to notice. Mom wasn’t wearing a bra. My cock strained and throbbed in my sweatpants.
I worked under her shirt and massaged her shoulders, shoulder blades, and neck. Then she removed the shirt completely. I saw her breasts sway freely from the side, and they looked magnificent. “There,” she said, ” That should be much better. Don’t you think?” She rested her head on her arms again. I admired the sides of her breasts as they pressed into the cushion and went back to work on the massage.
“You should massage my butt again, Honey.” Mom said as I was working my way back down her spine. I briefly wondered why she didn’t say “glutes,” but then I didn’t care, and my hands went to her hips, and I leaned forward so I could look at her cheeks and the cleft between.
“You should get behind me again, so you’re not leaning over so much,” she said. She didn’t have to ask me twice, and I quickly got behind her. I was at my altar once again, ready for communion.
I squeezed her cheeks in my hands, kneading them, playing with them. I ran my thumbs up her crack then down again. I massaged her hips, pushing my palms into her sides. I was so hard, I was leaking precum. I reveled in her naked flesh, and drowned my senses in the touch and sight of her.
“Honey, spread me open, and hold it like that for a bit,” she directed. I got my hands as close to her center as I dared, cupping each cheek, then I spread her open. It was so lovely, her little butthole a crown above her hairy pussy. “Wider.” she demanded. I spread her wider, I could see the skin stretch. Her little butthole, once a circle, now an ellipse. Her hairy pussy lips once closed, dear God, they opened up for me, parting down the middle. I sucked in a breath. I could see her pink insides, like coral. It was wet and juicy, she flexed her muscles in her pussy, and I couldn’t help but gasp in awe.