Chapter 1

My mother, Myra, my father, and I went on a canoe trip the summer before I started college. It was something my parents had wanted to do for years but couldn’t because of my father’s heart condition until his recent apparent return to health and vigor. We set out on a remote paddle through a circular chain of twelve lakes connected by eleven portages of various lengths and difficulties. The first few lakes and portages varied from easy to medium difficult but the fourth portage to the fifth lake was the first of increasingly challenging treks and by the sixth lake most people stopped because the next few lakes could only be accessed by canoe, or trail. There were no nearby roads.

We paddled through the first two lakes the first day with me at the front, father steering, and Mom relaxing in the middle of our large expedition canoe. It was beautiful, warm weather with not too many people around but there were a half dozen tents at the designated camping spot we chose for our first night. We chatted with others and shared a communal campfire. Mom and Dad shared our three person tent while I gladly hit the dirt in the smaller two man affair.

The next day, Dad seemed a little stiff when he got up but quickly limbered up when he noticed Mom eyeing him. The next lake was larger and it took all day for us to paddle through it. On a break half way through, Dad switched places with me, saying I should learn how to steer a canoe. I think he was tiring and I was only too happy to help out by taking the stern where I could paddle harder without him seeing.

As the afternoon passed, I was bored of the tremendous scenery and found my eyes wandering, without intention, to my mother’s lithe figure stretched out before me, her back resting against the large pack in front of me and her legs stretched out for her to rest her ankles on each side of the canoe. I didn’t think anything of this as I paddled but was suddenly conscious that I was looking at a very nice set of tanned legs, bare up to a pair of baggy shorts that had slid very far up their owner’s thighs.

Of course, once I stumbled on this revelation, I couldn’t ignore it, inevitably returning my gaze each time a guilty feeling forced my eyes away. Eventually, since no one could see, I simply let my eyes slide up and down my mother’s long legs, watching the muscles play under her skin as she periodically shifted herself to get more comfortable.

But I didn’t feel the first twitch in my groin until Mom started humming to herself. Not that I get hard to music, but she started to tap her feet in the air in time to whatever she was humming. I found this action strangely sexual and could hardly tear my eyes away until Dad half turned to frown back as I veered way off course. This interrupted Mom’s song, but fortunately she soon started up again. I began to swell in my shorts as I watched her toes dipping, her instep curling in response, and her calves tightening to accent her muscled lower leg. Guiltily, I let my eyes stray up past her knees following her sinewy muscles along the inside of her thighs, all the way to the top of her legs, finally coming to rest at the top of the magical ‘V’ where the shorts stretched tight across a noticeable mound marked by a slight vertical crease.

I jerked my eyes away to watch the water fall off my paddle. But only three strokes later they were pulled back, directly to where they left. There, beautifully outlined, was my first home. Resting against the pack, Mom had slipped down, rubbing against the hard foam cushion which she sat upon, dragging her shorts tightly against her upraised legs and thrusting her pussy against her shorts to display it in mouth drying detail for me to watch, unobserved and at my leisure. I stared until I was distracted by her tapping feet which caused small tremors to ripple up her legs. Following these pulses back to the treasure above, I found myself wondering how it felt to her, thrust up toward the heat of the sun beating down on it. I longed to be one of those rays rushing up to greet this throbbing guest and my cock straightened in my pants as I imagined it beckoning to me.

I don’t know how I managed to steer a line sufficiently straight that my father didn’t feel the need to glance back but we arrived at our mid-afternoon destination for a break without incident and pulled in to shore for a rest. It was difficult to keep my eyes off Mom. I don’t think my Dad noticed anything strange, even about me staying in the canoe for a few minutes before getting out, but Mom gave me an odd look once or twice.

Dad and I flopped down on the white, sandy beach to rest but Mom strolled up and down, each time pausing to stretch her legs in a wide stance before turning to walk the other way. Dad closed his eyes, but my eyes stayed open, and on Mom. As we were getting ready to get under way, Mom asked Dad if he thought we were far enough along for her wear her bikini. My ears really perked up but a few seconds later a pair of canoes rounded the corner and Mom shrugged, “I guess not,” she said, her voice sounding disappointed.

She shot me a sad smile. Maybe I was over sensitive, or guilty because of my after lunch ogling, but it seemed to me that her look was directed at me. And, it struck me, she must have been able to see those canoes standing down the beach where she’d been, when she had posed her question to Dad. Come on, I thought, it’s your imagination. She can’t know you were watching her, she couldn’t see you. And if she did, she’d be mad, not teasing you with the thought of her in a bikini. Get a grip.

We got underway before the other group arrived, waving as we left and they slid in to take our place on the beach. As we paddled away, Mom seemed to be having a hard time getting comfortable but she finally settled in. I noticed that her shorts were already stretched tight over my now favorite spot for resting my eyes. Mom began to apply suntan lotion to her legs, bending her knees to lather her calves and slowly working the lotion into her feet, especially her tender soles, and then running her fingers between her toes in slow strokes. Returning to her knees, she began a casual application to her thighs, doing the insides of each thigh last.

By the time she squirted the lotion along her inner thigh, letting it drip down toward the juncture of her legs before capturing it with a languid movement of her hand, I had a full-fledged boner. Mother or not, this was a tantalizing show by an attractive woman. And it was as if I was looking in a bedroom window, unobserved as I was. When I thought she was finished, Mom put the bottle down and used both hands to roll the legs of her shorts up until they were tight around her upper thigh, right next to her groin.