Mom Spreads Her Legs

"O.K., I guess," she said. But I get to veto any pics going up if I think they're too much. Deal?"

"Deal," Jack said. "I'll go wait by the pool while you put it on."

He closed the door behind him. Jill stood over the tiny suit lying on the bed.

She pulled off the one-piece and quickly tied on the aqua bikini. She hadn't worn it in years, and she had forgotten how slight it felt on her. It was like she wasn't wearing anything at all. When she was done with both hip ties she reluctantly gazed into the full-length mirror to see her reflection.

Wow, she thought. It was small. Crazy small. The triangle tops were only a couple of inches across, and her pale, full breasts spilled out to every side of them. The bottom was just as tiny -- nothing more than a thin inverted triangle that covered just what it absolutely needed to, and nothing more. If it moved even a fraction of an inch to either side, part of her labia would be exposed.

She half-turned to see the back coverage. It wasn't a thong, but the triangle of fabric left most of her butt exposed, and its apex disappeared into the cleft at the bottom of her cheeks. She was pleased to see her butt looked firm, with no sign of imminent droop, in the tiny suit. The color of the suit was a good fit, too; the pale green-blue nicely set off her pale, pink-toned, freckled body.

Her biggest concern about the suit wasn't its size, however, it was the thinness of the lycra -- what looked like less than a millimeter of fabric obscured her private parts from view. And, to be honest, they weren't fully obscured. The suit wasn't see-through, but it had no lining and it was so thin that it molded closely over her nipples, which jutted out noticeably, and over her pussy, which left a subtle but noticeable vertical dimple between her legs. When she looked more closely still, she noticed a hint of darkness where her privates were, as well.

She also saw a few stray hairs peeking out from the bottom. She would have to take care of that.

She shucked off the bottom, walked to the shower in the bathroom, and pulled out her razor and some shaving cream. A well-cropped patch of auburn hair did little to obscure anything below, but it would look bad peeking out the side of the suit. She began to shave the sides, and then decided on a whim to shave it all off. It would be easier to deal with the suit that way, and it took no time to get rid of the remainder of the scrubby patch. In a few strokes she was clean shaven. John always liked it that way, he said, because he liked the feel of her smooth skin against his cock. Jill had liked that feeling, too.

Shaved and ready, Jill put the suit back on. She slathered on more sun screen, a necessity to protect her pale skin from the mid-summer sun. She thought about putting on a cover up, but she hadn't done it before and decided against it. There was no one in the house to see her other than Jack, and there was no point hiding her body from him when he was going to be taking photos of her in minutes anyway.

Her body lay exposed to the cool, air-conditioned atmosphere of the house, and her skin tingled as she descended the stairs. She felt like she wore nothing.

Jill's confidence waivered. She took a detour to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of white wine. A few sips took the edge off her nervousness, and she took the glass with her to the backyard.

When she opened the back door and walked into the sun and toward the pool, Jack heard her and looked up from clipping a large flash to his digital camera. His jaw dropped before he composed himself. He skipped a beat before speaking.

"Mom, that looks perfect," he said.

Jill felt relieved to hear him say it.

"So," she said. "Where do you want me?"

Bad word choice, she thought. She saw a faint smile twist over Jack's lips, and she knew he was thinking about her word choice, too.

"Over here," he said slowly.

He ushered her over to the side of the pool, where dense green bushes lay behind, offering a suitable background for the photograph.

"Let's start with a nice portrait shot. It'll be nice and pretty and not too sexy, but your . . . uh . . . potential dates will see from your bare shoulders you're in a swimsuit. You can use it as a good portrait shot."

He instructed her where to go, adjusting her position with his words to get the light and background right. He took several photos, adjusting settings and the degree of fill flash to offset the glare beating down from above. He pulled the camera down and looked at it.

"Wow, that turned out great," he said. "Come and see."

She sidled up next to him and leaned in to see the photos he'd just taken pulled up on the view screen in the back of the digital camera. She was aware that her barely clad boob was pressed against his arm, but she didn't move it away.

They were good pictures. Jack had a keen eye, and her eyes and smile, she had to admit, looked youthful and pretty. It was a good classic portrait photo, except that the smooth, freckled skin of her shoulders lay bare instead of covered.

Jill felt a boost of confidence. I look a lot better and younger in those photos than in the ones I took, she thought.

"O.K., now, mom," Jack said. "Let's take some real bikini shots."

Jack talked Jill through a series of poses standing up by the pool -- arms akimbo, arms at her side, arms over her head. He asked her to stand with one leg in front of the other, then with her weight on one leg and the other bent, and then with her legs apart. The last pose made her feel more vulnerable. The farther apart her legs were, the more flesh was exposed, and the smaller the tiny bottom would be, relative to it. But as she stood that way, before her son, the familiar tingle rose, through her body. That feeling of power she got as her legs parted. She felt embarrassed that the tingle emerged in the presence of her son. But it was a welcome feeling. She hadn't felt it in a long time, but it came rushing back. Jack lingered over that last pose as he took more photos.

"Let's go back to the lounge chair," Jack said.

Jill walked over to it in and sat down at the end of it, her feet still on the pool deck.

"Put a foot up on the chair."

She did as he asked, perching one foot on the chair cushion, and the other on the concrete patio, and pointing her toes on both feet. Her legs were bent and parted, and her knees were up, and, again, she was aware of the show her open legs gave Jack.

I should be more embarrassed than I am, she thought. I shouldn't do this.

But she did do it, following every instruction Jack gave her. He took shot after shot as she assumed different variations of the pose on the chair. For a moment she looked down, and she liked the contrast of the seat cushion, her suit, and her pale skin. From Jack's attentiveness with his camera she guessed he liked it too.

She reached for her wine glass and took a sip, and then a big gulp, and then another big gulp, until the glass was empty. The cool Chardonnay entered her belly and had an immediate effect. Tension and nervousness eased. Calm took over. And something else took hold of her -- a frisson of excitement, maybe even arousal.

"You look great, mom!" Jack said. She appreciated his efforts to make her at ease, even though they were becoming less necessary. Jill was simultaneously struck by the strangeness of what she was doing and the deliciousness of how it made her feel. It was nice to have someone appreciate her body again, even if it was her son.

"Thanks!" she said. "I've got an idea."

She got up from the chair, and then sat down on the patio. The radiant heat from the concrete was hot against her mostly bare bottom for a moment, but she forced herself to take it. She stretched her legs to the side. She wondered how well she could still do the splits on the pool patio in the tiny suit.

Jack's eyes bulged wide as his mom's legs stretched wider. Mom was getting into it, and she was starting to enjoy the show she was putting on. That was fine with Jack. He kept busy with the camera controls to ensure he got the clearest, best-focused photo he could of his mom stretched wide on the patio in the miniscule bikini.

Her legs didn't quite make it to a full horizontal position, but they came close. It seemed to Jack like they went on forever to either side of her, ending in red-painted toe nails pointed to either side. The length of her legs accentuated the brevity of the bikini bottom, which now lay taut against the small part of her that it covered. He took several more pictures.

"Yoga poses!" she said. Jack didn't even know what that meant. He knew his mom did yoga, and he'd seen her in yoga outfits often, but he'd never actually watched her do it, and he'd never done it himself.

Jack got a quick education, watching his mom put her body through a series of twists and stretches. Her barely clad body pretzeled in front him, legs and arms going this way and that. He tried to concentrate on the photography, but he found his eyes constantly glancing back at the minute top and bottom triangles, wondering if the stretching would cause something to pop out unexpectedly. He was getting warmer under the sun. A film of sweat lay over his forehead and arms. And he could see sweat through the camera lens beginning to coat his mom's exposed skin, too. A sexy sheen soon enveloped her.

"Wow, mom, that's fantastic," he said. He took a few more photos and shook his head. He'd lost control of the shoot as the photographer. Mom was leading the way. As much as he enjoyed watching his mom take over and pose for him, there were specific shots he wanted to take.

"Mom, let's get back on the lounge chair," he said.

Jill jumped up from the concrete in response, and she lay back in the chair. She wondered what Jack had in mind.

"Put your hands behind your head, and one knee up," he said.

Jill felt giddy from the wine and the yoga stretching. Her body buzzed under the sun. She'd forgotten her earlier embarrassment and was enjoying showing it off. She followed Jack's instructions, but she exaggerated the pose he wanted, arching her back and thrusting her breasts out. One leg stretched down the length of the chair, bent slightly, and the other bent up and out with a toe wildly pointed away from her. She let that leg fall back and away against the wood arm rest of the lounge chair. When Jack looked up from his camera, she caught his glance, and she knew he was looking at the way her body stretched and swelled and pushed against the thin aqua fabric. She enjoyed the feeling so much she almost forgot it was her son looking at her. She wanted to tease him. She pulled both knees up and snapped them together.

Jack took several photos, and then he moved closer to her. Uncertainty showed in his face. Then, as though he had a faint but not yet fully formed idea how he wanted her to pose next, he reached out to her, and his fingers touched her left knee.

The touch was electric, flooding her with long-buried desires and sensations. As though beyond her control, her knees responded to the touch by parting. She pulled both knees back, until they rested against the wood arm rests as far as they could go.

"You look beautiful, mom," Jack said.

"Thanks," she said, but she thought, I know you think that without telling me. I can see it in your eyes. Jack wasn't looking at her like a son, anymore. Her mind wrestled with the implications of that look.

"You're so limber, mom," Jack said. "I had no idea."

"You know I was a gymnast when I was young," she said.

"Yeah, I guess I knew that. But I'd never seen you do stuff like that. That was impressive."

"Thanks," she said. She kept her legs parted. If she felt vulnerable before, she felt more vulnerable now, but more powerful, too.

"Can you put your legs behind your head?" Jack asked, out of the blue.

"Um," she said, suddenly less comfortable. "I'm not sure, but I don't think that falls within the bounds of good Web site photos."

"Well," Jack replied. "I guess it depends what kind of Web site."

"What do you mean?" she asked, challenging him with a skeptical edge in her voice.

"I mean, there are ordinary dating sites, and then there are sites for people who just want to hook up for a night. It's like . . . some people don't want to do the whole dating thing. They just want . . . some quick fun. You said you were thinking about guys in their 20s, so I wonder if that's what you're thinking."

"You think that's what your mother wants?" she challenged him.

"Mom, it's no big deal," he said. "Like I said, you and dad taught me to be open about sex. I'm not judging. But if you want a hook-up, there are sites for that, and the photos are a lot more, um, well, they show more. But you can block out your face from those photos. No one will see your face. Just your body."

"Jack," she said. "I can't see myself posing like that for a Web site."

"That's fine, mom," he replied. "Let's just take the photo; like the rest, you can decide later what to do with it."

He tapped her lightly on the knee.

"Go ahead, mom."

Something about the touch of his finger persuaded her. It was a weak spot. She knew it, and she felt the resistance give way. Jill grabbed her ankles, and she pulled her legs back. It was a move she could have done with ease when younger, but her legs, though still limber, responded more slowly to the pull on them than before. Finally, though, her feet were behind her head. She looked at Jack's face. He wasn't looking at hers; he was staring straight between her legs. Jill had a pretty good idea what he could see.

Jack saw the tiny triangle of lycra stretched so thin over the mound between her legs that the contours of her pussy were unmistakable under it. At its narrowest point the upside-down triangle was so thin that it didn't cover all the darker skin surrounding her anus, which, with his mom's legs spread so far back, was turned up toward his face. He wanted to reach out and caress it, but he couldn't go that far. He put his camera up, instead, and took photos of his mom from no more than two feet away. She looked beautiful, and, in this pose, extremely enticing.

Jill held the pose for what seemed minutes. Jack took his time, and despite her misgivings she enjoyed the scrutiny he gave her body, and the loving way he focused the camera on her. It felt good to have a man's eyes on her this way, even if it was her son's eyes that scanned her.

"Have you got all your photos?" she asked.

"You can put your legs back," he said.

She let her ankles go and her feet fell back to the lounge chair, but she kept her knees apart. She was enjoying this too much, she thought.

"I've got another idea," Jack said. "Let's get a shot of you coming out of the pool. That'll look great."

"You mean, you want me to get in the pool?" she asked. "I'll get the suit wet."

"Yeah, but not your hair," he said. "Keep your hair above the water."

"My point is, Jack," she said. "I'm not sure I want pictures of me in this suit wet. It's going to be . . . kind of see-through."

"It'll be fine, mom," Jack replied. "Come on, you'll look great. If you don't like the pictures, they don't have to go on the site. It'll be your call."

After a moment's indecision, Jill gave in, against her better judgment. Jack beckoned her over to a metal railing at the side of the pool, close to the deep end. Jill turned around and lowered herself in the pool, hands on the rail. The water felt cool and pleasant under the hot sun. She lowered herself into the water until it reached near shoulder level and the fringes of her red hair hit the water.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Ready," Jack said, holding his camera in front of his face.

She climbed very slowly up the steps, pulling herself up by the metal rail. She emerged from the water like a modern-day, red-headed Venus.

It took all Jack's concentration to keep taking pictures, rather than tossing the camera to the side and staring at his mom. He figured the water would make her suit a little clingier and maybe a little more see-through, but he underestimated the effect of the water on the suit's transparency. The soaked bikini top and bottom left nothing to the imagination. It was almost clear. The detail of his mom's nipples and areola were fully revealed. When her hips lifted out of the water her sweet, bare, vertical cleft, framed by the fleshy mounds of her labia, was completely visible. The little hood over her clit poked out against the suit. Jack asked his mom to hold that position, hands on the top of the metal railing, while he took photos of her. Jill knew what Jack could see; it embarrassed her and excited her.

He was almost shaking when he was done. He couldn't believe what a powerful impression the sight of his mom's body -- nude, for all intents and purposes -- had on him.

"Let's go back to the lounge chair," he said, struggling to keep his voice steady.

Jill knew full well what she was showing off, and we she lay back on the lounge chair again, this time with her bikini soaked, she kept her legs together and put an arm over her breasts.

"Go ahead and open up your legs again, mom," he said.

"Jack --."

Jack didn't say anything, but he touched her knee again. That feeling. She couldn't deny it. She let her legs fall back against the arm rests.

"Put your hands up, near your head," he said. "Take your arm away."

She did as she asked. Her body tingled with nervousness and guilt, but it trilled with unmistakable arousal, too.

"You like it, don't you," Jack said after a beat. "You like opening up your legs. You feel weird doing it with me -- it is kind of weird -- but you like it. You look good, mom." He said it quietly, his words reassuring, not lewd.

Jill didn't say anything in response at first. She stared back at him while he stared at her nearly nude body.

"Your dad --" she began.

"What about dad?" he asked.

"He liked me this way. I always liked . . . opening up to him. I miss that."

"I like it too," Jack said. "Like father like son, I guess.

"Let's take some more pictures," he said.

Jill almost gave in to his request, but when she saw Jack focusing his camera on the clear bikini bottom she shot a hand down from its place at her head to between her thighs, covering the soaked and clear lycra.

"Oh, Jack, I don't know," she said.

"I do, mom," Jack said, and he smiled. "Take your hand away."

Her hand lay over her the fabric stretched over her pussy. She wrestled with Jack's instructions, and with her own warring desires. Slowly, she pulled her hand away. It trailed along her body, and when her middle finger moved over her clit she pressed down, softly. Her fingers continued their progress up her body.

"Wait, mom," Jack said, and Jill stopped her hand, fingers barely above the top edge of the scant bikini bottom.

"You just touched yourself," Jack said.

Jill's pale face reddened. Jack was right, but she had not wanted him to see that.

"I saw that," Jack continued. "You just touched your . . . your clit. While I was watching you. Wow.

"Go ahead, mom," he said. "If you want to touch yourself, touch yourself." To give weight to his request, he touched her knee again, and her legs opened still more. It didn't seem fair to Jill that such a simple gesture had a such a powerful effect on her willpower and resistance.

Jill's hazel eyes fixed on her son's eyes -- blue, like his father's.

For seconds, minutes -- she lost track -- Jill's hand rested on her lower body, fingers poised to reverse direction and touch herself again. She was conscious of the importance of the decision she was about to make, a decision that might affect her relationship with her son forever, that might affect their whole lives.

She made her decision. Her hand moved down. The tip of her middle finger touched the little nub showing under the bikini bottom, where her clit lay only partly obscured. She pressed down. Then she added two more fingers, and soon her hand moved in tight, steady circles around her clit over the thin fabric of the suit.