Chapter 23: Spying on Mom
I stood there for a few seconds in the hallway, trying to process everything that had happened that morning. My heart was still beating hard and my mind was a whirlwind of images I couldn't stop recalling. I took several deep breaths, trying to regain my composure, while my back rested against the wall.
The echo of Lila's laughter still floated in the air, leaving me trapped between anxiety and a strange relief that didn't quite feel real. Little by little, my pulse tried to return to normal, but the feeling of the forbidden remained stuck inside me.
"I don't think she'll tell Mom," I thought, clinging to that idea to calm myself. The way Lila had looked at me before entering the bathroom, along with that playful smile, made me feel like she had no intention of ratting me out.
Rather, if she used it, it would be to keep teasing me, not to act like the authority of the house. I sighed heavily, noticing how the air inside the house felt denser than usual, though that certainty gave me a small sense of relief.
I started walking down the hallway with calm steps. The wood creaked softly under my bare feet, a sound as familiar as the memories of my childhood, when I used to run around here without shoes. The walls were decorated with old and recent photos, and the smell of wood mixed with the scent of home completely enveloped me. The morning light filtered through the windows at the end, drawing golden rays that seemed to float in the air. Everything was the same… and yet, it felt different, as if the place held a secret I was only beginning to discover.
Without realizing it, my steps led me to the hallway where Mom's and Maya's rooms were. I stopped for a moment, curious to know if Mom was already awake. I remembered what Maya had told me about her job as a teacher, and I wondered if she was already getting ready for her day.
"I guess she must be awake by now. If not, maybe I should let her know so she doesn't run late," I thought, using that idea as an excuse to keep moving forward step by step.
But as I got closer, an absurd detail hit me: I didn't know which room was Mom's. Eleven years had passed since I went to live with my father after the divorce, and the maps from my childhood had been erased. Everything had been reorganized, and suddenly I felt like a stranger in what used to be my own home.
I approached cautiously, looking for some detail that would help me identify the room. When I got there, I noticed that one of the doors was slightly ajar, letting out a line of light that broke the dimness of the hallway.
"Maybe if I peek a little I can see whose room it is," I thought, while my heart pounded hard in my chest. I leaned in slowly and put one eye to the crack.
"W-what…" my voice barely came out, broken by surprise. What I saw left me in shock, draining all the blood from my face and sending it straight to my lower regions.
There was no doubt: it was Mom's room.
She was sitting on the corner of a king-size bed, giving me an almost complete profile view. She was completely naked. The morning light filtering through the curtains bathed her voluptuous, milky-white figure, which seemed to glow.
On one side of the bed I could see the clothes Mom planned to wear to work. A fitted white blouse, a dark pencil skirt that would surely accentuate her curves, and some classic heels rested neatly, as if waiting to be worn.
It was the typical, modest outfit of a teacher — impeccable and proper — but at the same time it contrasted provocatively with the reality before my eyes. That contradiction hit me hard, making me feel like the everyday and the forbidden were mixing in the same space.
"E-normous…" I exclaimed in an inaudible whisper, swallowing hard.
After a certain age, I hadn't seen Mom naked. After all these years apart, this was the first time I was seeing her like this. I could only swallow as I watched her large, milky orbs sway on her chest with every movement, defying gravity with astonishing firmness.
"Her nipples…"
At the peak of those large mounds of flesh were a pair of extremely swollen protrusions that seemed to move with the temperature of the room. They were a rich pink color, large, with wide and soft areolas.
I lowered my gaze over Mom's body and swallowed again when I saw her thick thighs and, between them, a dense blonde bush over her feminine mound, the same color as her hair.
"She's putting cream on her body," I thought as I watched her take a jar and begin applying a white substance to her feet. Her fingers moved calmly, tracing every part with an almost hypnotic care.
The cream slowly moved up her legs, massaging her calves and then her thighs. Her skin looked incredibly supple and tender, shining under the pressure of her hands and the soft morning light. The scene had something familiar and, at the same time, disturbing, as if every gesture revealed more than I was prepared to face.
"What the hell am I doing?" I scolded myself mentally. Remorse hit me hard; it wasn't right for a son to spy on his mother like this. However, my feet felt nailed to the floor. The view was so tempting, so forbidden, that I couldn't turn around. I stayed there, holding my breath, watching as Mom massaged her body with the cream, turned into a voyeur in my own home.
Her fingers slid over her large, mature thighs, spreading the cream with slow and careful movements. After a few moments she stopped and I thought she was finished. I was about to leave so I wouldn't be discovered, but I saw her take out another bottle that looked like lotion and pour it into her palm.
I thought she would continue applying it to her thighs, but what she did next surprised me and felt like a lightning bolt had struck me.
She brought her hands directly to her large, round breasts. I watched as her fingers sank into that mature, soft flesh, massaging with circular movements while spreading the oil over the entire surface.
"They're shining…" I murmured to myself.
Under the room's lighting, the oil made her bust glow with a lewd shine, highlighting every curve and every contour of her skin. It was a powerful image, charged with an obscenity that was difficult for me to process.
"No, not again…" I thought in desperation as I felt my cock, which had barely begun to relax after the shower incident, stretching again with renewed fury. It was a treacherous biological reaction, and it didn't matter that it was my mother.
She continued applying the lotion with circular and careful movements. After a moment she set the bottle aside and went to look for something on the other side of the room.
To avoid being discovered and because of the guilt I felt, I thought it was best to leave before she noticed me. The risk of her approaching the door and seeing me was too high.
Holding my breath, I slowly took steps backward so my footsteps wouldn't be heard, and moved away from the room down the hallway.
As I walked back toward the living room, I tried to calm my nerves and make that furious erection go down before running into anyone else. My mind kept replaying the image of the oil shining on her skin.
"The day has started way too intensely," I thought, leaning on the staircase railing. I wished with all my strength that, from now on, things would calm down a little.
Little did I know that this was only the beginning of much more intense, exciting, and arousing days for me.
End of Chapter 23
A huge thank you to Ominousgaunt and DaoistijSW8F!