I would watch Mom waddle around in front of me at the grocery store or the Costo’s, picking out things for the family. On these outings she would always make sure she got each of us a favorite treat that Dad would not know about. Some extra cookies or ice cream, or we would stop off and have a quick lunch someplace out.
She was beautiful already, but the pregnancy made her even more so. Dirty-blond, shoulder-length hair, small lips and a cute little nose, with the prettiest blue-green eyes I had ever seen. She wore just enough eye makeup to make her eyes “pop” which gave her a little bit of a naughty appearance as well.
Mom could tell I was enthralled by her, and she began to flaunt it as she entered her ninth month. Almost every night now, she would ask me to rub her feet or her shoulders. She was home all day now and not working, so would have a snack ready for me when I got home. I think she loved me telling her that she shouldn’t be doing anything for me at all and then watching me as I made over her for the next twenty minutes by fluffing the couch pillows and fixing a drink or something for her too.
On numerous occasions she would get all excited and call me over to feel the baby kicking. She would hold my hand on her tummy and watch for my reaction. More often than not there would be nothing to feel except for her. She must have known that I was almost overcome by being able to touch her bare skin there; that it had nothing to do with the baby; even though that was kind of neat to be honest.
So, Mom ended up having my baby sister, Vicki, right around Christmas and for the next few weeks, I continued to hover. Even Dad helped out more than usual. Mom was not one to stay down though so she was up and trying to get back to her old routine in just a few days. She was surprised when I continued to chip in even after she told me she was fine now.
Four months later mom had her shape back pretty much. All except her breasts which still looked way too big for her little frame, and her tummy which had a slight, soft pooch to it around her mid section. I was mortified when one day she caught me staring at her running on the treadmill in the basement. I was fixated to her bouncing boobs and the large wet spots from her sweating made me so hard I couldn’t get off the bench. She looked down at her chest and blushed when she saw where my eyes were focused. But instead of chastising me or covering herself up, she just kept running, wiping the sweat from her forehead and chest with a towel and smiling at me.
“I can’t believe how much they’ve filled out, can you?” she said. I couldn’t believe she had just said that so openly. She saw the look on my face as I turned my face away and attempted to keep lifting again. “Well I can’t. I was happy with my 36-C’s thank you very much.”
I didn’t say anything; I was much too ashamed that I had been caught looking.
“And they are just too heavy to do all this running.” She slowed the treadmill down to a crawl to bring herself down. “They make my back hurt. In addition to all this mess,’ she said in a disgusted voice.
I abruptly turned to see what she was referring to. She was looking down at her chest and instead of just the wet spot at her cleavage there were too very dark spots around the front of each breast as well. Stupid as I was, it actually took me a few seconds to realize what it was!
Mom stepped off of the treadmill and ran the towel underneath each breast, restrained in that too small, gray sports bra. She lifted each one right there in front of me, seemingly not paying attention to me at all; and swiped away the moisture underneath. I couldn’t move. I was glued to the bench as I watched her (and tried not to watch her) all the while my cock growing to ever larger proportions.
At last she finished wiping herself as dry as she could and she bent down a couple of times to stretch out her legs. Her body was incredible. You couldn’t tell she had even had a baby! Then she stood up she gave me another shock. She winked at me and said “Don’t work yourself to hard, Baby.” She emphasized the hard part.
