It takes a certain kind of friend.
My aunt and my mom would make a day of trekking through all the department stores on Washington Street. I was especially fond of the lingerie section. All the straps, buckles, hooks, and clasps seemed like engineering marvels. I still remember the smell of a rubberized girdle.
I used to stay in the room with my mother and aunt while they changed, thinking nothing of their naked female bodies. About the time I turned five, my aunt firmly suggested that I was getting too old to be hanging out with the ladies. My mom would have let me stay, but according to my aunt's new rule I was banished from the realm of nude women. I'd been trying to get back there ever since.
TV reception wasn't always the best on the Island. It had only been in the last couple years that we had a TV at all. On a good night you could get the Boston stations without too much static. Tonight was pretty clear. My mom wanted to watch Peyton Place, so she stayed downstairs. I said I thought I'd just go upstairs and read.
Our cottage was a simple saltbox that had been added to over the years. The kitchen and living room were on the first floor, while the second was sleeping quarters. Not a bedroom, more of a dorm style situation. My dad's bed was close to the stairs, mine was over by the window, my mom's was in the middle.
The floorboards upstairs were old planks with gaps between them. Yes, I had planned to read some, but my ulterior motive was that my bed was located directly over the bathroom. Looking through the gap, I could get a pretty good view of the bathtub and the mirror over the toilet and vanity.
Spying on my mother might seem a little weird, but a young man's sex drive is a powerful thing. Back at the city house there were no such opportunities. This was one of the things I liked about the old cottage. Yes, she was my mother, but right now she was the closest female body.
I heard her turn off the TV and head to the bathroom. I got down on the floor and squinted through the crack.
I watched as she took off the shirt and unfastened her bra. She let it slip forward over her arms and placed it on the vanity. It felt good to free her tits. She pulled them out in front and scratched and rubbed them. I will say my mom had great tits. Round and perfectly shaped.
Topless, she took off her makeup, then stood up and pulled off her pants. She started the water for a bath. This would be good. I had an excellent view of the tub
I watched as she took off her white panties and sat on the toilet. I could hear the sound of her pee hit the water. She wiped her pussy clean and moved over to the tub. Shutting the water off she gingerly stepped in.
She laid back. I could see her perfect breasts outlined by the water. Round with upright nipples.
There was a roundness to her belly that added to the sensuality of her body. She was a woman with curves. Her butt was round and firm. Her hips flowed from her waist down to her firm thighs. She always wore red polish on her toenails that flashed against the pale white of her skin.
But most special was her pussy - a brunette triangle as perfectly formed as the rest of her body. I don't know if she ever realized how beautiful it was.
She began to bathe, moving the dripping washcloth around her neck and shoulders. Washing her underarms, I could see her breasts move in concert, lifting as she raised her arm. She then washed under and around her tits. Her left hand raised her left breast while she bathed underneath. Then she repeated the same motion on her right.
Working her way down to her pussy, she raised her knees and put her hand and the washcloth between her legs. She washed carefully, being sure to get both sides against her thighs, and scrubbing her bush clean.
Then with both hands, soap and water down her legs to her toes.
She lay back in the tub and the warm water covered her belly, boobs, and cunt.
I just watched her lay there enjoying the sensation.