Incest The Mom Memories" by 'alwayswantedto' collection

[sarit11]

 
 
I couldn't wait until the next day. I knew Mom wouldn't wear her bikini with others
nearby but I wanted to get back in the canoe to watch her anyway. I was intrigued
by the play of light across her face from our communal campfire. I knew that Mom was
aware of my attention though she never seemed to acknowledge it.
 
The next day, we portaged to the fourth lake, losing one group to waiting vehicles.
We were alone starting on the next lake since the rest had moved faster than us on
the trail. I was in no hurry to catch up. When we got in the canoe, Mom placed the
larger pack further forward in favor of a smaller pack to lean back on, bringing her
closer to me. She had put on a short, pleated hiking skirt and a quick-dry blouse
that morning, telling Dad that she wanted to be able to get down to her swimsuit if
we found ourselves alone by lunchtime.
 
As Mom settled in, Dad and I paddled the canoe away from shore. I soon appreciated
my mother's choice of attire as she swung her legs up onto the sides of the canoe
again and leaned back against the smaller pack, shifting herself around to get more
comfortable. Her shoulders grazed the inside of my legs and her head, when she laid
it back, rested on the pack inside my knees. She smiled up at me and then closed her
eyes.
 
My eyes roamed over her as we paddled. After a while Mom's hand crept up to her blouse
and began working the buttons loose. One ... two ... three. One more than yesterday.
The quick-dry material, flimsier than the blouse she'd worn the day before, fell flat
on her skin, clinging to her breast. I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra again.
No swimsuit? Darn. I guess I wouldn't be seeing her in a bikini today. But I could
see more of her breasts since the lapel lay farther to the side with the thinner material
and the extra button undone. White flesh drew a line across both breasts in a narrow
band close to the jut of her nipples hidden less than an inch under the edge of the
blouse.
 
I was elated at the more liberal exposure and swelled in anticipation of massaging
her with suntan lotion. My expectation was so focused that I was surprised when she
didn't reach for the lotion near at hand. Instead, she moved her hand to her skirt
which, though exposing her skin as it fell high on her thighs as she stretched her
feet to the sides of the canoe, had been demurely pressed between her legs.
 
But now her hands grasped the hem on each side of her brown thighs and slowly pulled
it up until it lay on her tummy, baring her bikini bottom to the sun. Her pussy was
displayed in even greater glory than the day before. The bikini rose up over her mound
to dip into the shallow canyon between her lips, ending very low on her belly beyond
which I could see a light brown stubble spreading across above it, narrowing into
a rising band that reached toward her navel. Cock, ten HUT!
 
Mom opened her eyes just as I was hardening. She could see where I was looking but
didn't look mad, and I didn't look away.
 
"I won't need lotion until this afternoon," she observed. "Do you think you could
put it on while Dad has a nap after lunch?"
 
"Sure, Mom"
 
"Good," she smiled, closing her eyes. "Watch where you're going."
 
I ignored her instructions, keeping my eyes on her as she shifted around, wiggling
lower, the cushion underneath pulling her bikini tight against her, the material sinking
into her crack. She began to hum and I was torn between the hypnotic motion of her
feet and the reactive throb of her pussy. Guess which one won the battle most often?
 
 
After a while, Mom moved her hands up to her blouse. Just when you could be sure where
my eyes would be, Mom opened hers to smile at me. "It's getting hot already, isn't
it?"
 
I nodded. Closing her eyes, Mom's fingers pushed the lapels of her blouse apart, then
began toying with the next closed button. I couldn't help but stare and hope but I
was still surprised when it suddenly popped open. Mom's finger toyed with the lapels,
running up one and then the other, pushing them apart to expose more skin to the faint
breeze blowing over the water.