MY MOTHER SUSAN part4
by Hot Milfs Blogseemed, with athletic-looking calves and slender thighs. I’d always
anticipated that I would be a tall man, for my father, at 6′ 2″, was the runt
of his family. Couple that with my mom’s genes and it seemed reasonable
that I’d be tall. It was not to be. At eighteen, we were pretty much the
same height. I knew just where the tips of her breasts hit my chest.
I should mention that my mother had very attractive breasts, a C-
cup with prominent, up-tilted nipples that were often evident despite her
clothes. Sometime later I was to learn that she was one of those women
who were blessed with exceptionally firm, youthful breasts, that never lost
much of their firmness. She is one of those rare females that will have
youthful breasts into her later years. Like intelligence, beauty is given to us
as an accident of birth, no more than a fortuitous role of the genetic dice.
It’s comforting to be part of a line of good stock I was told, but I hadn’t
thought of it in this arena of sexual attractiveness.
While my mother’s figure was model-attractive, it was her facial
features that were eye catching. She had a straight, almost aristocratic
nose and a wide, full mouth. Her prominent cheek bones set off her
unusually attractive eyes. They were hard to describe, her eyes. She had
high, full, unaltered eye brows, that were dark in color in contrast to her
natural auburn hair. But it was the eyes themselves that caught your
attention, for they were a light green-blue with an exotic cast. At times I
thought she might have some Asian blood, but I never got a hint of it in the
rest of her family. In any case, they were striking, often dark and brooding
and at times almost electric. Without altering her facial expression, her
eyes could show humor or joy and, at times, anger. I often wondered what
she looked like when sexually aroused.
But I digress. Back to the awakening of my sexual awareness.
I didn’t set out to seduce my mother, despite the rich and lurid
fantasies I entertained. I held them as deeply secret and guarded as one
would any shameful, licentious desire. The thought was given no more
than masturbatory acknowledgment, as frequent as that was. Still, the gap
between our thoughts and our actions remains hidden from our conscious
awareness by the strength of our denial. So while I might have denied a
plan to seduce her, my actions would have argued differently. I set out to
be her friend and her confidant, to reduce if not break down the
conventional barriers between us. This was largely an unacknowledged
plan of mine. I don’t recall thinking anything more detailed than vague
objectives of getting closer to her.
Over time, I became more open with her about my self. I asked her
opinions of things, including girls and dating and later, sexual things. I
worked at being her emotional intimate. It wasn’t difficult, for she was at
heart an emotionally trusting and open women who, it turned out, was
largely unencumbered by repressive standards. To my surprise, we
gradually became good friends. That I would bond so closely with my
mother was not surprising, given my nature and that fact that my father
was largely an absent force in my life.
I slowly became less conventional in my own modesty. It was not
at all unusual for me to chat with my mother wearing no more than my
Calvin Kleins. I was aware that she studiously avoided looking at my body
when I was so briefly dressed, but she never reprimanded me for
inappropriate attire.
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I became aware that when my dad was away, she usually left her
bedroom door open. I took that as an invitation and often walked in on her
to “chat.” Not infrequently, I’d catch her in her bra and panties. She’d
say, “Whoops,” and slip on a robe, loosely tied. Once, as I walked into her
room, she was walking out of her large closet wearing only an unbelted
robe that swung open as she moved. From a moment only, I saw her nude
body. It was no more than a flash that left nothing more than an after-
image. It was that after-image that I examined so repeatedly. I saw firm,
upthrust breasts, and a flash of dense pubic hair at the base of a flat
abdomen . . . and then she pulled the robe closed without comment.
I’d gone in to ask her if she’d like to play some tennis and for a
moment was tongue tied, standing there, staring at her.
…End of the part4. To be continued..