Chapter 2

I couldn’t wait until the next day. I knew Mom wouldn’t wear her bikini with others nearby but I wanted to get back in the canoe to watch her anyway. I was intrigued by the play of light across her face from our communal campfire. I knew that Mom was aware of my attention though she never seemed to acknowledge it.

The next day, we portaged to the fourth lake, losing one group to waiting vehicles. We were alone starting on the next lake since the rest had moved faster than us on the trail. I was in no hurry to catch up. When we got in the canoe, Mom placed the larger pack further forward in favor of a smaller pack to lean back on, bringing her closer to me. She had put on a short, pleated hiking skirt and a quick-dry blouse that morning, telling Dad that she wanted to be able to get down to her swimsuit if we found ourselves alone by lunchtime.

As Mom settled in, Dad and I paddled the canoe away from shore. I soon appreciated my mother’s choice of attire as she swung her legs up onto the sides of the canoe again and leaned back against the smaller pack, shifting herself around to get more comfortable. Her shoulders grazed the inside of my legs and her head, when she laid it back, rested on the pack inside my knees. She smiled up at me and then closed her eyes.

My eyes roamed over her as we paddled. After a while Mom’s hand crept up to her blouse and began working the buttons loose. One ... two ... three. One more than yesterday. The quick-dry material, flimsier than the blouse she’d worn the day before, fell flat on her skin, clinging to her breast. I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra again. No swimsuit? Darn. I guess I wouldn’t be seeing her in a bikini today. But I could see more of her breasts since the lapel lay farther to the side with the thinner material and the extra button undone. White flesh drew a line across both breasts in a narrow band close to the jut of her nipples hidden less than an inch under the edge of the blouse.

I was elated at the more liberal exposure and swelled in anticipation of massaging her with suntan lotion. My expectation was so focused that I was surprised when she didn’t reach for the lotion near at hand. Instead, she moved her hand to her skirt which, though exposing her skin as it fell high on her thighs as she stretched her feet to the sides of the canoe, had been demurely pressed between her legs.

But now her hands grasped the hem on each side of her brown thighs and slowly pulled it up until it lay on her tummy, baring her bikini bottom to the sun. Her pussy was displayed in even greater glory than the day before. The bikini rose up over her mound to dip into the shallow canyon between her lips, ending very low on her belly beyond which I could see a light brown stubble spreading across above it, narrowing into a rising band that reached toward her navel. Cock, ten HUT!

Mom opened her eyes just as I was hardening. She could see where I was looking but didn’t look mad, and I didn’t look away.

“I won’t need lotion until this afternoon,” she observed. “Do you think you could put it on while Dad has a nap after lunch?”

“Sure, Mom”

“Good,” she smiled, closing her eyes. “Watch where you’re going.”

I ignored her instructions, keeping my eyes on her as she shifted around, wiggling lower, the cushion underneath pulling her bikini tight against her, the material sinking into her crack. She began to hum and I was torn between the hypnotic motion of her feet and the reactive throb of her pussy. Guess which one won the battle most often?

After a while, Mom moved her hands up to her blouse. Just when you could be sure where my eyes would be, Mom opened hers to smile at me. “It’s getting hot already, isn’t it?”

I nodded. Closing her eyes, Mom’s fingers pushed the lapels of her blouse apart, then began toying with the next closed button. I couldn’t help but stare and hope but I was still surprised when it suddenly popped open. Mom’s finger toyed with the lapels, running up one and then the other, pushing them apart to expose more skin to the faint breeze blowing over the water.

I could see her nipples now, each one on the very edge of the material, barely covered, the stiff upper sides visible from my advantageous angle. Mom opened her eyes again, catching my admiring gaze on her once more. “It’s going to be a scorcher this afternoon.”

I nodded my agreement, watching as she traced her finger along the edge of the blouse, hooking her finger in and pulling the material away from her breast to allow cool air in but also baring the top of her tit to my thankful eyes, the nipple standing up proudly. She held her shirt out for a while, letting me drink her in before letting it drop and running her finger over to the other side where she repeated her action, holding the blouse there open longer. Was she teasing me with her tantalizing display, or was she really just hot?

Mom closed her eyes, resuming her humming and tapping feet. Barely five minutes went by before her hand again strayed to her blouse to play with the next button. No. I couldn’t be that lucky. If she undid one more, it would be hard to keep her blouse covering her tits. Fiddle ... fiddle ... fiddle. She pulled her hand away, again tracing her finger along the edge of her blouse, pulling it up and away.

She opened her eyes again. “Let me know when we get near the corner,” she asked quietly, referring to the point far ahead around which we should sight the island we were heading for our lunch break.

I nodded, not questioning why she was almost whispering. I knew that Dad would turn around and announce the island as soon as he saw it and might find it odd that Mom was laying there with her legs wide open, her skirt flipped back, and her blouse undone. But I was her son, after all, and she was waiting to be away from others to wear her bikini, not me. When she closed her eyes again, she moved her hand back to toy with the button on her blouse. I waited patiently as she fiddled for the little running finger peek show to start.

Yet again, she surprised me. The blouse suddenly parted before I realized she had undone the button. By accident, or did she do it on purpose? I don’t know, but she didn’t move to do it back up, or to pull her blouse together again. The material had fallen low on her breast, almost off her nipples, exposing them substantially to the wind and me. They stiffened as the breeze tickled them.

Mom dropped her hand to her lap. I could see most of her tits if I stretched forward to look down her front. Paddling automatically, my eyes licked over every exposed inch, willing her nipples to grow and imagining how it would feel to tug them. Her shirt cupped the swells rising off her chest, pushing up and exposing the flesh above.

Without opening her eyes, which would have scared and startled me, leaning in for such a close look at her, Mom quietly spoke, “You’d better keep on course or your Dad will give you the evil eye.”

I jerked my head up to be sure I was heading for the point. I was. My cock leaped in my shorts with the realization that Mom was aware of my attention and didn’t mind but knew that Dad wouldn’t like it. I stiffened to a full hardon.

Eventually, I moved my eyes past Mom’s tits to seek out her pussy once more. As if reading my mind, Mom moved her hand out of her lap to open herself to my gaze and her mound pushed up as she arched her back slightly. Her panty-like bikini bottom had sunk into her crack. Had she opened herself on purpose? Looking up to be sure Dad wasn’t looking, I noticed we were close to the point. Reluctantly, I whispered to Mom, itself an act acknowledging our duplicitous collaboration, “Mom, we’re nearing the point.”

Opening her eyes to look, Mom flipped her skirt down to cover herself, then laid back to look up at me. “Can you button me up, Nick? My fingers have gone to sleep.”

She watched as my hands fumbled with her buttons. I got them all done up but I managed to press against her tits and even brush her nipples. Mom was silent, her eyes on mine while I struggled with her buttons. My ears were tuned to Dad’s paddling, sensitive for the slightest indication that he may turn around. But he didn’t.

There wasn’t any shade on the only beach on the island. Dad looked really tired and welcomed Mom’s suggestions that we put up the tents for a respite from the increasingly hot sun and rest until later in the afternoon when it was cooler. She grabbed my pup tent and put it up first. Giving Dad a hug, she suggested he crawl in my tent while we put the other one up. Dad looked so bushed he just crawled in and crashed before we could even spread a blanket inside. Mom carried the bigger tent down the small beach about twenty feet and started putting it up. Minutes later she crawled in, telling me to make sure the canoe was dragged up far enough and then to get out of the sun with her.

“Get my skin cream, will you?” she called out as I approached the canoe.

It took me a few minutes to find her skin cream. I wasn’t sure which one she meant so I brought the suntan lotion, her tube of facial suntan lotion, and a small jar of some white cream. I wasn’t tired at all but I was quite eager to get into the tent with Mom, even if she did go to sleep. She had spread a blanket over the floor of the tent and was laying slightly to one side leaving little room for me, not enough to lay down without touching her. To my delight, she had taken off her shirt and was just wearing her bikini bottoms although I couldn’t see anything because she was laying flat on her stomach. I wasn’t complaining. She looked as if she was already asleep. I crawled in and lay on my side next to her.

“Did you get the cream?” she mumbled.

“I think so. I wasn’t sure which one you wanted.”

“Let’s see.” She turned her head to look. I had dumped the collection of creams just below her pillow. She drew her head back at little, having difficulty identifying the creams so close to her face. Then she did something so casually it was beautiful. She pushed up onto her right elbow, twisting her left shoulder back so she could look at the collection. As she did, her left breast rose with her, springing from her chest and dangling free less than a foot from my face.

“Hmmmm,” she seemed to be reading the labels, though she must have known what each was at a glance. Was she giving me a chance to ogle her tit? If so, I loved her for it, so much that my cock was growing once more and I had to twist myself to hide it.

“This one,” she said, falling flat again but reaching her hand back to me, holding the jar of white cream. “Could you put some on me, please?”

I scooped up some white cream with my fingers and reached for her back. I moved my hands over her, working my way down to the top of her bikini over the next few minutes. Mom had laid her head down on the pillow and when I reached the rise of her buttocks, stretched both hands back to grasp her bikini. Hooking her fingers under the legs, she pulled, dragging the bikini up over her cheeks and in until the material pressed into her crack. She said nothing, dropping her hands to her sides.

A little stunned at this silent invitation, I pressed my cream covered fingers onto the middle of her right cheek and, timidly, rubbed it in a small circle. I rubbed the cream all over her right cheek, then scooped up more for her left cheek, working it in with small circular movements as well. Her cheeks succumbed to my pressure, withdrawing and moving like a wave as my fingers pressed forward.

Inevitably, I slid down the slope of her darkening cheeks toward the crease marking the divide between her ass and her legs. Her legs opened as my fingers moved toward her center, about to dip between her thighs beneath her ass. Just then, as I was about to press into that warm place, I heard my father’s voice greeting someone arriving on the beach.

Mom stirred. “I think we better...”

Placing my hand on her shoulder I tried to keep her still but my father spoke again, his voice sounding closer to our tent, and she quickly sat up to reach frantically to find and pull on her shirt. I watched as she opened her legs to thread her feet through the skirt, my eyes on the front of her bikini.

“Come on, Nick. Go talk to your father.”

I exited the tent, stretching and yawning, greeting Dad as Mom buttoned her shirt. We left shortly after.

Mom piled the small pack and life jackets against the yoke spanning the middle of the canoe. She leaned back against this makeshift cushion to sit on another life jacket in favor of the hard foam cushion she’d previously used as a seat. Her legs stretched between mine with her feet resting below my seat. I could no longer look over her head to leer down her blouse, nor could I observe her in private. Although her eyes were closed under her sunglasses, she could open them at any moment to see exactly where my attention was focused.

That, however, didn’t stop me from examining her body. Her blouse was buttoned right to the top and was tucked into her short, loose skirt covering her legs to mid-thigh, closed tightly together as they stretched to the stern of the canoe.

After a few minutes, she remarked that she’d forgotten to put sunscreen on her legs and began applying it to her legs. She took her time, never hurrying her hands as they delicately stroked her tanned limbs. Upon finishing, she returned to her demure position.

Running my eyes up her legs and over her torso, I noticed that her blouse now had two buttons undone. I had been so focused on watching her lean over to rub the lotion into her legs that I hadn’t noticed her loosen her shirt. I could feel excitement surge within me again, not because I could see much, but because of what she’d done. She may have just wanted to cool off but I was sure it was more than that.