Chapter 07: Pushing it Poolside

We had a big backyard, square, with landscaping and plenty of green, some trees, and a pool house next to a Roman-shaped pool and an elevated spa off to the side. White tile surrounded the pool, the edges, and the granite rock forced a backdrop around half of the pool with an outcropping of rocks where a decorative waterfall added a final touch of paradise.

I stepped through the dining room’s swinging glass doors and into the sun, the rays of light warming my skin on contact. No shirt covered my upper body, but a white towel hung over my left shoulder, and a pair of colorful boardshorts circled my waist. I had chosen the shorts that Jenna had bought me. They hung low enough on my hips that if I hadn’t trimmed my pubic hairs, more than a few curls would have poked out over the waistband. Mom didn’t like them—not when Jenna was around, and Jenna’s fingers had a tendency to glide across my skin, but maybe that would change now that we were alone. If Mom could show off, then why couldn’t I? (It had taken some effort to pull those shorts from their drawer and slide them up my legs.)

Next to the pool, opposite the granite wall, there was a row of white-cushioned lounge chairs and small glass tables. That’s where I found Mom. She lay on her back, with a white tennis visor on her head and sunglasses over her eyes. Her skin didn’t shine with lotion, and my heartbeat did a double-thump as soon as I saw that. She wore a small, red bikini top over her breasts, the kind made of strings that wrapped around her back and hooked over her shoulders, around her neck. The cups were half-moons that cut an angle across her breasts, covering her nipples but leaving the inner swells and the sides of her tits exposed.

I wanted to whistle. I had never seen my mother wear a top that exposed so much of her tit-flesh, and yet, I had to hide a sigh. I don’t know why I had thought that Mom would have worn less, but I had hoped. Did she think a bikini would keep me from running off to Jenna after her teasing today? And as if she wanted me to run off to Jenna, around her waist, she was wearing a mid-thigh length, white, semi-transparent wraparound skirt. A skirt? Damn it!

“It took you long enough to get down here,” Mom said. “I was about to go inside after you.”

“Ah, well,” I said and shrugged. “I was just picking out my suit.”

“I see,” Mom said. Behind her glasses, I couldn’t tell where her eyes had fallen on my body.

I walked over to her and dropped my towel on the chair next to hers. I was about to sit down when she said, “How about a quick dip?”

“Sure,” I said as the hairs on my body reached skyward.

Mom removed her visor and stood, her butt toward me, and through the transparent mesh of her skirt, I caught glimpses of her cheeks and thighs. Before I could decipher whether she was wearing a G-string or a thong, she unwrapped her skirt, revealing a thick red thong running through the crack of her small, golden, and pear-shaped ass.

God damn it, but my father was a lucky man.

“No tan lines,” I whispered aloud as though my mother wasn’t four feet from me.

“No,” Mom laughed. “No tan lines.” She turned around. “So, do you like my new bikini?”

Oh, dear lord, yes—yes, I did.

The thong riding my mother’s crack swept outward at her lower back, just above her cheeks, leaving them bare. The strings were maybe a quarter-inch thick, biting into her skin a tad, giving her slenderness a faint bulge above and below her waistline. In front, they swept down the cut of her hips to the V of her crotch, where they connected to a red, triangular patch of cloth that didn’t quite cover my mother’s vanilla pie. A quarter-inch of labia lay exposed to the elements. I could see the impressions of what had to be a fluffy landing strip pushing against the front of her nylon panties—panties that rode so low on her mound that I could see several wispy, flaxen hairs poking above the nylon.

My cock thickened, the head expanding at a slow rate—slow enough that the stretching of my glans exploded through my nerve endings.

“Mark?” Mom asked.

I raised my eyes, devouring her long body and her apple-sized breasts, whose just-over-a-handful size looked smaller than they were due to her height. Her nipples stood out straight and hard, stretching the nylon fibers forward and sideways, threatening to rip the threads apart. When I reached my mother’s face, I saw swirls of pink in her cheeks, but her sunglasses hid her eyes. An almost-smile ghosted the corners of her full lips.

“My bikini?” Mom asked.

“It’s breathtaking,” I whispered.

“Thanks.” Mom’s smile widened. “I’m glad you like it. I’ve bought more, too, for the rest of the summer.” She breathed in, shivering, and then out, the sound trembling in the air. “And if things go well, maybe you can help me pick out more?”

I nodded my head.

Mom lifted her left hand to her glasses, took the temple piece between her thumb and forefinger, and slid them from her face. There was a smile in her green eyes and something else that I could only call a victory. She tossed her glasses on her lounge chair and turned away, walking toward the pool with her butt cheeks rolling and her long legs slipping one in front of the other with each step. As I drooled over her ass, my eyes caught the heart-shaped gap at the top of her thighs and the tender bulge of her soft pussy meat as it created a hanging crescent in the gusset of her panties.

Oh my god! My cock sprang up so fast, and my balls tightened so hard that I had to clench my teeth to bite back my groan. Mom reached the edge of the pool and dove forward, as graceful as the swan she was. As her steepled hands parted the water, I raced forward and dove in as well. The water coating my body was a crystalline blanket of freshness. I made sure to rise above the water at a depth that kept my waistline and erection hidden beneath the swaying water’s surface.

Let Mom see, my cock yelled at me. Let her fucking see what she does to us!

Maybe later, I mumbled to my perked-up soldier.

Mom came out of the water after I did, having swum to the opposite edge of the pool. Her head erupted through the water’s surface, her hair whipping up and back and flinging globs of liquid through the air. She turned around, running her hand over her face as the water painted her nylon bra to her tits and more ran down her stomach and hips and back into the pool.

“That feels good,” Mom said. “Race you to the end!”

Mom dove to her left, elongating her body as she started a sidestroke. I watched her for a moment, my eyes freezing to the gap between her thighs and the tight roll of nylon hammocking her muff. She had so much pussy meat for such a slender woman—so it looked in the water. My cock jerked, the head trying to rip through my shorts, creating a jolt of pleasure that ran along my shaft. Moaning, I followed my mother’s body through the pool, wishing that I had worn a pair of goggles so that I could better appreciate the light glinting off my mother’s body through the thickness of the oscillating water.

She touched the back wall and broke through the surface. I followed. She shook her head, made a wuh sound, and swam away from me. Once again, I watched her slip through the water, my eyes finding her thong as it cupped her crack, and then her gusset as it cradled her wet pussy. Jesus Christ, but Mom had to know that I wasn’t going to just beat off after this when I had Jenna offering her juicy clam to me.

I followed Mom back to the shallow end of the pool, my dick swinging in my shorts. Every kick of my feet and twist of my body sent a buzz through my cock. My dick wanted pussy. My mind wanted pussy. Fuck, my soul wanted pussy, and it wanted it right then.

“I think it’s time for some sun,” Mom said, standing in the shallow end with the water lapping around her thighs. I didn’t hide my gaze this time, looking down her dripping wet body and focusing on the triangle of cloth that left the softness of her outer labia uncovered. “Don’t you?”

“In a second,” I said, hidden up to my waist beneath the water’s surface. “I just”—my heart thumped, creating a hollow boom within my chest that I was aware of but too excited to feel—”want to watch you get out of the pool.”

Mom’s eyes widened, and she seemed a little taken aback, but then she smiled with a kind of gotcha quality to her lips. She turned around and walked toward the steps, her ass and thigh gap holding my cock’s attention. I just wanted to be between her thighs.

Eighteen-year-olds weren’t meant to be virgins, not when women—adult, fucking women—who shined like my mother were teasing them.

Mom walked around the front of the pool, her body dripping and her hair plastered to her body, its light, bright color at odds with her golden skin. I loved it. The sides of her almost-little tits jiggled, bouncing just enough to make my blood pump. Her body was the picture of classically toned slenderness not influenced by today’s Instagram-fit girls or the pre-woke, skinny-girl chic, runway models, and it made every nerve ending through my flesh buzz with adrenaline.

Mom grabbed her towel, drying herself off with long sweeps of the terry cloth. She dried her arms and legs with pushing motions, turning her body so that whatever side she was drying was turned away from me, giving my eyes the freedom to roam over her skin without shame. Mom finished, put on her sunglasses and visor, threading her hair through its headband, and she sat down on her lounge chair. She lay down as the sun beat down on her. She lay with her legs slightly spread and her bikini panties cupping the tender folds between her legs. I could see the faintest impression of them, and I oh-so-badly wanted to touch them.

I walked to the edge of the pool—staring. After a minute of this, when Mom spread her legs further apart, I pressed my cock against the side of the pool, nearly coming. I wasn’t about to hump the wall, but I wanted to. Instead, I bent my knees and dropped beneath the water, placing my hands on the lege and pushing myself underwater. I held my breath until a fire burned within my lungs and my throat convulsed—my heart speeding up for another reason. I did this until my erection softened enough not to hurt when I walked, and then I sprang out of the pool, no longer thinking about what I was doing as I walked to my lounge chair.

My towel found its way into my hands, and I dried myself off, taking my time as I stared down at my mother. Was she looking up at me through her sunglasses? She had the hint of a smile on her lips, and her breathing was far from mellow. Her slim stomach rolled downward and up, her breasts rising and falling with them, her nipples reaching heavenward with unashamed stiffness. Could she feel my eyes on her—even if she wasn’t looking at me?

“Pass me my tanning oil,” Mom whispered. “I think I could use just a bit more color, don’t you?”

“Sure,” I said, bending over and picking up the bottle of oil.

Mom didn’t need more color. She had perfect skin, from its flawless complexion to the sun-cooked gold of her tan, but who was I to argue?

“Mom,” I said, my voice shaking, “I can put it on for you.”

Mom’s smile straightened, and I saw her swallow as time slowed. The movement of her throat seemed exaggerated, and it cascaded down her breast, her stomach lowering and rising as well.