Chapter 2

As time went on and my nudity around my mother became more common and sis and dad weren't around, I started to notice that mom would seem to seek me out more often and go out of her way to let me know I didn't have to "live like a hermit" (as she put it) in my room, just because I wanted to enjoy being nude.

To reiterate, little by little, I got over my apprehensiveness and began to take her up on her offers to watch TV with her while in the nude or just join her for afternoon "chats" if she happened to be home. In time, the bathroom became another place for us to sit and visit, especially on those days when I opted to take a bath instead of a shower. On the afternoons when she happened to be home, she seldom failed to come around and ask me "Bath or shower?" And if I replied with "Bath" she began to draw a tub of water for me. Then she would join me in the bathroom while I scrubbed down. She'd sit on the toilet or the sink counter and we'd chatter away.

It was around this time, about two or three months into my full nudity around her that I began to wonder if my mom was being tolerant of my nudity simply because she wanted me to feel comfortable around the house. I began to suspect that she might be getting a thrill out of my exhibitions. Up till then, I believed that we had never crossed overt incest boundaries, but, I also think that slowly but surely, sexual innuendo and veiled eroticism began to creep into our relationship.

Of course, the fact that my mother was - and remains - a good-looking woman didn't hurt things, either. She's tall and voluptuously built. She isn't fat in the least, but she'll never be mistaken for an anorexic super-model. Mom's a redhead, with a good 36D chest, flaring hips and very round buttocks. The classic Coca-Cola bottle figure comes to mind when I'm looking for a quick description.

Again, while full-blown taboo boundaries weren't transgressed, we certainly began to move into new and questionable territory. For example, one day when my mom drew my bath, I was in my room, furiously typing away at a term paper that was due. Mom came up behind me and rubbed my shoulders and told me I better hurry or my bath water would get cold. I leaned back and told her that her shoulder massage felt great after a couple of hours of typing. When I muttered that maybe I was too lazy to bathe after all, she came around to face me, took my hands, pulled me out of the chair and told me to quit being a baby and marched into the bathroom. I jested with her and asked if she wanted to bathe me and she said that she'd done enough of that when I was a kid. We shared a laugh, but as I passed her, she swatted me on my bare left buttock. That surprised me. Up to now, she'd never touched me while I was nude. I half turned and joked to her, "You missed one." She quickly caught up to me halfway down the hallway and swatted my right butt cheek, open palmed. "Not anymore," she said, following me into the bathroom, where she took up her usual place on the counter while I bathed.