Michael's Mom Has Got It Going On

SimonDoom©

"Michael, would you come here for a minute?"

Susanna called to her son from her home office. Michael did not respond at once. He sat slouched on the sofa, on the other side of the house, playing Fortnite on the big-screen TV in the living room. It was late Sunday morning, and Michael didn't have to go to work.

"What is it, mom?" he shouted back, not moving a muscle to get up. He was in the middle of a game, and it was going well. He was keeping up, more or less, with his teammate and recent tournament champion Buttstomper467.

"Can you just come here? It's important," she called.

"Shit," he said out loud. At that moment his character was killed by an assault rifle burst from an unseen enemy. He tossed the game controller on the sofa and stood up. His mom seemed determined to see him, and Fortnite could wait.

Susanna sat at the computer in her office. As usual, the room was cluttered with her paintings and drawings. She swiveled around in her chair as Michael entered the room. She wore a threadbare, tie-dyed shirt, and it was obvious to Michael from the movement under it that she wasn't wearing a bra. For the hundredth time, Michael wished his mom wouldn't dress that way, because it agitated him to stare at her breasts swinging unfettered under the flimsy t-shirt. But Michael knew that going braless fit with his mother's newly adopted carefree, Bohemian image of herself, and he knew she wasn't going to stop. He glanced away from his mom to the computer screen. Susanna didn't appear to notice his agitation.

"I'd like you to see this," she said, pointing at the screen.

Michael stepped closer to see what she was looking at. A masthead with the words "Human Synergy Institute" stretched across the top of the screen. Underneath the heading were pictures of people with hands pressed together and eyes closed, expressions of bliss on their faces. They looked like they were meditating, or maybe achieving orgasm. It was hard to tell. The site looked vaguely Eastern and New Age-ish. Michael wondered what new thing mom was up to.

His eyes wandered to the mess on his mother's desk. His mother was careful about some things, but she was hopeless when dealing with paperwork. A phone bill was spread out next to the computer monitor, with a big number following the boldface words "Late Fee."

That would have to wait. He turned his attention back to the computer screen.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Remember I asked you not to make plans for next weekend?"

"Yeah, I remember. You said you wanted us to spend some 'quality time' together."

"That's right. This is what I want us to do. The Human Synergy Institute. A friend from my painting class told me about it. They put on workshops at a hot springs resort in the hills about two hours away. The workshops help people work out obstacles in their relationships. I want to attend a workshop there with you. We have some issues to work out, and this would be a nice way to do it. My friend said good things about them."

Michael looked at the computer screen, skeptical. This was his mom's kind of thing, but not his. Susanna had a Ph.D. in psychology and had spent most of her career as a clinical psychologist with a successful private practice. Seven years earlier, she'd given all that up to try becoming a full-time painter and poet. She'd had mixed success at her art ever since. But his mom never had shed her habit of thinking like a psychologist or of believing that there was no such thing as too much therapy or too much communication. Over the years Michael had attended several joint sessions with his mom with therapists to discuss his parents' divorce and his feelings about it. He wasn't eager to do more.

"Mom, I don't feel like we really have more issues to discuss. I'm fine with things. We get along well. We're good."

"Getting along doesn't mean there aren't things to work out. I've sensed some distance between us lately. I wonder if you are still angry. But, regardless, this is a great opportunity. Whatever you think about the relationship, it will be good time together for us. And it's not just workshops. The resort has some great pools and the scenery is beautiful. We can go hiking. I know you enjoy that."

Susanna was right about that. Michael always liked getting out in nature, and hiking in the hills was one of his favorite things to do. It was a great time of year for it, too: the summer was in its early days, with the trees full and green with foliage, scattered remnants of spring flowers still abloom in newly sunbaked fields. Michael wasn't so sure about the therapy, but the hiking sounded fun. It would only be one weekend. And he could tell his mom really wanted to do it.

"O.K., mom," he said. "Sure. I'm up for it."

Susanna jumped up and down twice. Her unclad breasts shook under the t-shirt. Michael looked away.

"Yay!" she said. "We'll have fun, Michael. And it will be good for us."

Michael doubted that, but he didn't want to argue with his mom. He already had told her he'd leave the weekend free to spend time with her. He intended to honor his promise, whatever she had in mind.

Michael didn't think there were any issues to work out with mom, though he knew that in the past, that hadn't been true. Seven years earlier, when Michael was thirteen, his mom suddenly quit her job as a psychologist. She had a mid-life crisis. Michael never knew what it was all about. He was just entering his teen years and still trying to navigate his way through the trials of adolescence without having to figure out his parents' problems.

Unfortunately, he couldn't extricate his life from his parents' marital crises. Not long after his mom left her job and started taking painting lessons, she had an affair with an art teacher. Michael's dad found out, and their marriage blew up. Later, he found out his dad had been having an affair with a secretary. So, neither parent was fully innocent and neither one was fully guilty in Michael's eyes. They got divorced. It sucked for Michael, at first. But as time passed, he realized his mom and dad never had been right for each other. They were happier in divorce. His dad married his secretary. His mom pursued her art and poetry. They grew as people. They remained as loving to Michael as ever. But there were scars, and they didn't heal right away.

That was a long time ago, however, and Michael thought he'd moved past it. He was a junior in college now, studying economics. College was several hours away, but he was living at home for the summer, alternating between his parents' houses while he worked as an assistant at a local real estate development company.

Two days after Susanna told Michael about her plans for the weekend, he was hanging out in the kitchen with his friend Connor. He'd just gotten home from work. He told Connor about his mom's plans for the coming weekend.

"So, you're going to this hot spring place with your mom, huh?" Connor asked. "Are you going to be naked?"

"No!" Michael said, offended. "We're not going to be naked. It's not like that. It's some kind of therapy workshop, where people work on relationships."

"If you say so," Connor said. "I thought those hot spring places were clothing optional. Whatever. Not that there's anything wrong spending the weekend naked with your mom."

"Connor!" said Michael, almost shouting.

"Hey, sorry," said Connor. "It's just . . . you know. It's your mom. You know what I mean."

Michael stared at his friend, not blinking.

"No. I don't know what you mean."

Susanna suddenly appeared in the kitchen. She wore a tight t-shirt and cutoff shorts.

"Hey Connor, it's nice to see you," she said. She opened the refrigerator, bent over, and pulled out a cup of non-fat yogurt.

"Nice to see you, too, Mrs. P," Connor said. Michael still stared at Connor, who stared at Susanna.

"What are you guys doing?" Susanna asked, turning around from the refrigerator with the yogurt in her hand. The t-shirt stretched tightly against her breasts.

"Not much," Michael said. "Just hanging out."

"Well, have fun," she said, and she walked away. Her shorts were short - short enough to reveal a thin strip of the skin of her butt cheeks over her lean thighs.

"Michael," Connor said, his gaze lingering after she disappeared behind the corner. "Your mom has got it going on."

"Connor, come on, that's my mom," Michael said, annoyed.

"No offense, sorry," Connor said, throwing his hands up. He changed the subject and started talking about a Fortnite tournament coming up in two weeks. He was excited about it, and two days earlier Michael had been excited about it as well, but right now he couldn't focus on it, instead mulling over what Connor had said about his mom.

"Connor, what did you mean?" Michael asked, interrupting his friend.

"Mean about what?"

"About my mom. When you said she's got it going on. What do you mean by that?"

Connor was flummoxed by the question. He couldn't say anything right away.

"Well, it's just . . . it's just that . . . she's just, you know."

"No, I don't know."

An uncomfortable pause punctuated their conversation.

"O.K., it's like this," Connor said. "Your mom's like, really smart and really educated, and she's got this intellectual way of talking about everything. Like she's got a psychological explanation for everything. You know what I mean?"

Michael did.

"Yeah, but what's that got to do with -"

"Because," Connor continued, "you can tell that's not all that's going on with her." He paused. "Don't be mad at me for saying this, O.K.?"

"Fine, fine. What are you saying?"

"I'm saying underneath all the intellectual talk and all the psychobabble stuff, your mom is . . .. She's hot. She's . . . sexy. No, not sexy . . . sexual. And she knows it. You can tell. She wants to be looked at that way. She gets off on it. I'm not trying to offend. But you can tell. Just saying how it is."

Michael had no idea what Connor was saying. He had never thought of his mom this way at all, and he had never noticed what Connor said he'd noticed. But he couldn't argue with Connor's characterization of what she'd looked like a minute earlier. The outfit she'd worn had been skimpy, and Michael had to admit to himself that her exposed legs looked good. He kept thinking about them, even while he wrestled to make sense of Connor's words.

"This is a weird conversation, Connor," Michael said.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to offend you. I'm just . . . I'm just saying how it is."

Michael wasn't convinced, but he let it go. Connor stood and looked at Michael awkwardly, until he told him it was time for to go home. After Connor left, Michael stood in the kitchen for a while thinking about what his friend had said and wondering if it was true.

xxx

The week went by fast. Work kept Michael busy and distracted him from thinking about the upcoming weekend with his mother. But Friday came, at last, and when it did, Michael took the afternoon off at Susanna's request, so they could drive to the hot springs resort and get there before evening.

The forecast was for warm weather, so Michael packed his bag with a few t-shirts, jeans, shorts, and other appropriate items. He tossed in a pair of sport sandals. Michael realized he had no idea what to expect from the place they were headed. He hadn't thought about it much that week. His only experience going to a hot spring was a short vacation his parents and he had taken to a resort in the mountains when he was 12. It was billed as a "family-friendly" place. Michael recalled that there was nobody his age to play with, and the place was full of little kids screaming and running around the whole time. It wasn't his idea of fun. He hoped the place mom was taking him was better. From what she'd said it sounded like they'd be cooped up for much of the time in a family therapy workshop, and that didn't sound like much fun, either. But mom really wanted to do it, and they hadn't been away together on a vacation for a while. The hiking sounded promising. And if there was a pool there might be cute girl or two in a bikini for Michael to ogle.

At last, Michael and Susanna piled into her car, an old Volvo that needed a new paint job, and they took off. Michael glanced at his mother sitting in the driver's seat as they drove down the street. She wore a loose-fitting long dress with flowers on it, and her frizzy blond hair drooped in a long pony-tail down her back. In the years since Susanna had left her counseling practice and become an artist, she'd taken on a more carefree, artsy look. Her inner hippie had emerged. Michael wasn't much of a hippie, and he sometimes looked askance at her transformation. He was still getting used to Susanna's new style. He guessed it fit with her self-image as an artist.

"So, mom, what do you know about the place?"

"Not much, Michael. They sent me some information online when I made the reservation, but I've been so busy with my paintings this week I haven't read it. I heard they have a nice yoga class. And you can get a great massage, so I thought we might try that out."

"So, it's not like that place we went to before? With all the screaming kids?"

"Oh no. This is adults only. No kids."

Thank goodness for that, Michael thought. It would be quieter, at least.

The sun was high in a bright blue and cloudless sky. It was warm - high 80s, at least. After an hour's drive Susanna exited the highway and turned on to a two-lane road that wound its way deeper into the tan hills. Olive-green stands of trees dotted the landscape. Michael noticed hawks soaring overhead. It was a pretty drive. Michael thought that if their destination was anything like their current surroundings, it would be a serene setting and a good place to relax. Mom and Michael sat in their seats quietly for a while when she broke the silence.

"There is something else you should know about it, if you don't know this already."

"What?" Michael asked.

"Some of the facilities at this hot spring are clothing-optional. The hot spring pools, I'm pretty sure, and I think the sauna, too. I'm not sure about the rest."

Michael was taken aback.

"Wait - clothing optional - you mean, like, nude? Like, people are hanging out nude at this place?"

"At parts of it, yes, but not all. And it's clothing optional, meaning you can go nude, but you don't have to."

Michael didn't find that reassuring, at all. His mind reeled at the idea that his mom was taking him to spend a weekend at a nudist resort.

"Why are we going someplace with nude people? I thought this was supposed to be about counseling with you and me, with some hiking and relaxation by the pool." Michael tried to keep cool, but his voice cracked with dismay and surprise.

"Well, it IS about that," Susanna said. "But the hot spring we're going to allows guests to take their clothes off. Nudity is not a big deal, Michael. When you take your clothes off you strip away the pretense and the armor you wear every day. It helps you focus on the issues you want to confront most. It helps you avoid distractions. That's what we're trying to do."

Michael thought about what she was saying. It sounded like psychobabble to him.

"Wait a minute," he said. "Are you saying you're going to go nude at this resort? You? With me? Mom, don't you think that's kind of . . . weird?"

"No, I don't, Michael," she said, and the scolding mother tone came through in her voice. "It's not weird. And, yes, I expect I'll spend some time there nude. You probably should, too."

"Crap, mom! Why should I get nude? I haven't done anything like this, before."

"Neither have I. Oh, your dad and I went to a nude beach once and I took off my top, but I haven't done anything like this. I think it will help break down barriers."

Michael wasn't sure what barriers he needed or wanted to break down. And if he did have any, he didn't think he had to take all his clothes off and parade his private parts in front of a bunch of nude hippies to break them down. He could not believe his mom wanted to do this, and that she hadn't told him about it until they were near their destination.

"You don't have to do anything, Michael," she said. "Like I said, it's clothing optional. That means you have the option to wear clothes."

She paused for a few minutes before speaking again.

"Michael, the point of this weekend is for us to be candid and honest with each other. The nudity is just part of stripping away the barriers to being honest. I want us to be honest with each other. Just think of it that way. But you don't have to be naked if you don't want to be. It's optional. The point is being honest, not being naked."

That provided some comfort, but it still left Michael facing the likelihood that, very soon, he would see his mother naked. He realized he never had. One time, he saw her walking topless in her bedroom when he walked in on her unannounced, but he'd never seen her without a bottom. He wasn't sure how he felt about it.

Michael thought his mother was pretty, no doubt about it. She was in her 40s, and her recently adopted style was more hippie-ish than he preferred, but she had a trim figure and full breasts and womanly hips. And he'd seen enough of her legs in shorts around the house to know they were still lean and youthful, with clear, unwrinkled skin. He admitted to himself he felt a tinge of excitement at the idea of seeing his mom lying naked out by a pool at the place we were going. But he felt uncomfortable about it, too. And he felt even more uncomfortable about the thought of the two of them lying around a pool naked together, with other naked people lying around them.

Michael's thoughts stewed with such images when he saw the sign ahead of them: "Anders Hot Springs."

They passed a curve in the road and reached their destination. He heard the crunch of gravel as the car left the road and entered a parking lot. Ahead of them, framed by dense shrubs on either side, was a large two-story Victorian-style house, with a wide porch and many windows. It was different from what he expected. Michael expected something that looked more run down, like it was operated by broke, aging hippies. But it wasn't like that at all. The grounds were well-manicured, and the paint job on the house looked new. Susanna parked in a space near the door and they got out.

They entered the main door with their bags and walked to the front desk, where a cheerful, youthful Asian woman with wedge-cut hair greeted them with a huge, white smile.

"Welcome to Anders Hot Springs! I'm Mimi. Do you have a reservation?"

"Yes," Susanna answered. "Susanna Penley and guest."

Susanna and Mimi processed the transaction for the room. Mimi then presented a form with tiny print with two blank signature lines at the bottom.

"This is for participation in the Human Synergy Institute program session this weekend," she said.

Michael thought the name "Human Synergy Institute" sounded odd. It sounded flaky. But this was his mom's show. Michael and Susanna scribbled their names on the paper without looking at it. Mimi handed each of them a key.

A door in the back of the room opened and a beautiful, slim blonde in tight-white shorts emerged from it.

"Varda will show you to your room," Mimi said, gesturing to the blonde.

"Follow me," Varda said.

Michael and Susanna followed her through the door to a small room behind the waiting room. Through yet another door she took them into a locker room, with many nicely varnished wooden lockers lining the walls and a few benches sprawled around.

"Is this your first time to Anders?"

"Yes," said Susanna.

"Let me go over the rules of the place. First, we don't allow any electronic devices like telephones, cameras, computers, or anything else on the grounds. We are off the grid and non-digital. We want our guests to be fully immersed in their surroundings during their stay, without distractions. So if you have such devices you have to put them in a locker." She pointed to two that were empty.

Michael hadn't expected to give up his cell phone and charger. He figured it would be a lifesaver if the events at the resort became too boring. But Varda's look made it clear the rule was firm. Michael pulled his phone out of his pocket. Varda continued talking.

"This also is where you should store all your clothes for the weekend," she said.

"Why would we keep our clothes here rather than in the room?" Susanna asked.

"Because you won't be needing them."

"What?" Susanna asked. "What do you mean we won't need them?"

Varda looked at Susanna's face, and then at Michael's. Michael looked at Susanna. Both looked bewildered, and Varda's face, at first showing as much puzzlement as ours, suddenly brightened.

"Oh, I guess you didn't know. I'm sorry. This weekend is exclusively for participants in the HSI program, and a requirement of this weekend's program is that all participants must spend the entire weekend in the nude. No exceptions. Didn't you read the form you signed?"

Michael and Susanna both shook their heads.

"I'm sorry if you are confused. But if you want to stay here this weekend and participate in the program, you'll have to take your clothes off now before entering the rest of grounds."

Neither Michael nor his mother said anything for a beat. They stared at Varda, mouths open, and they glanced at each other.

"Uh, what if we get cold?" Michael asked.

"That shouldn't be a problem this weekend. The days are forecast to be hot, and even the evenings should remain warm. Your rooms are well-heated, and so are all the common areas in the buildings. And the hot springs are hot, of course!" She smiled. "I'll leave and wait outside and give you some time. If you decide you want to continue, just leave your electronic devices and all clothing in the locker and take the key with you. You can bring sandals or other footwear, and hats, so you can explore the grounds comfortably. And you can bring toiletries, but nothing electric. We have extra sunscreen in the rooms for protection. If you decide you don't want to, just let me know and you can go, and we'll refund your money."

Varda left, leaving Michael and Susanna alone in the locker room.

"Mom, how could you not know about this?" Michael asked.

"Michael, I had no idea. I swear. I didn't read all the fine print in the materials they sent me. I thought nudity was optional, not mandatory.

"But what's the big deal?" she continued. "I was planning to take my clothes off anyway, at the pool and the springs. Everyone else will be nude. You would have been uncomfortable staying clothed. Let's just bite the bullet and do this."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious. You'll get used to it right away."

Michael doubted that. He could see getting used to being around naked people, but he had a hard time imagining spending two days completely naked with his mom.

"I don't get this, mom. Why do they want people to get naked for a family communication workshop? What's the point? It sounds weird."

"Well, I didn't read the fine print," she said. "So, I don't know for certain. But I've heard of therapeutic approaches like this one. Shedding your clothing is symbolic of shedding your inhibitions and breaking down the barriers that prevent people from communicating. It's a confidence builder, too. If you can shed one barrier, you can shed another."

It sounded like more psychobabble to Michael. But psychology was mom's field, not his. She was the expert. She might have been right. But none of that changed the weirdness of the idea of being naked around his mom for two days without interruption.

"So, what do you think, Michael? Say 'yes.' We've come all this way. It will be a beautiful weekend. The hills around here are lovely, and we can take a nice hike. And I really want you to do this program with me."

Michael wrestled with the idea, inside. Part of him - most of him - still thought it sounded crazy. But he had to agree it was a nice place, nicer than he expected, and the surrounding area looked great for hiking, even if the idea of hiking in the nude seemed weird, too. And, he had to admit, the idea of seeing his mom naked, even if was strange, piqued his curiosity. She was very attractive, and he'd never seen her naked.

What the heck.

"OK, I'll do it."

"Yay," she said, and she gave her son a hug.

"Let's do this," she said, nodding. Each of them approached an open locker, on adjacent walls. Michael removed all the clothes from his bag, first, and stacked them neatly at the bottom of the locker. Then he took out a digital tablet, and a charger. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. He lay the items on top of his clothes.

Now came the hard part.

He took off his shoes and socks first, tossing the socks in the locker and the shoes in his bag. Next, he pulled off his shirt. His mom had seen him in a swimsuit, so that was no big deal. He heard rustling behind him, off his right shoulder, and he knew his mother was taking off her clothes as well. He said nothing, and he kept his eyes focused on the locker in front of him. Next came his belt and his pants. All he had left was a pair of boxer briefs. He paused. This was the moment of truth. The rustling of clothes continued behind him. In a swift movement he pushed the briefs down his legs and stepped out of them. He tossed them in the locker as well. He glanced at his cock. He was half-hard already. It stood away from his body in a droopy half-arc. It was embarrassing to be in that state, but he felt an erotic tingle inside knowing his mom would see him for the first time thick and partly aroused rather than shrunken.

"All right, kiddo," he heard her say behind him. "Time to turn around."

He turned around and beheld his mother in all her loveliness for the first time. Her skin was darker than one would expect for a blonde, smooth and youthful, dotted with occasional freckles. Her breasts were full, with large pink-brown nipples, pulled down only a bit by gravity. He couldn't stop his eyes from being drawn by curiosity lower, between her legs. He was surprised. With his mom's new hippie style he expected a full, wild bush. Instead, her blond hair was closely cropped and shaped in a wedge, and it did nothing to hide thin lips dangling sweetly between parted legs. Susanna suddenly threw her hands out to her side.

"So, what do you think?" she asked with a laugh.

Michael was embarrassed, again.

"Uh, you look great, mom. Really."

She did.

"So do you," she said running here eyes up and down his body. "Now let's get going."

She picked up her bag and walked to the door. Michael's eyes now were drawn to her ass, full and firm and ripe, and exposed to his view. He felt another twinge between his legs. He worried about not being able to control his reaction. He didn't want to walk around other people with a raging hard-on. But he had no choice but to follow his mom now, and he did.

Michael followed his mom into the next room, where Varda waited. She beckoned them to follow her, and the three of them exited the building by the back door, stepped into the bright afternoon sun, and entered the main grounds of Anders Hot Springs.

Michael was not sure what he expected, but it wasn't this. He imagined it would look like a run-down, ex-hippie commune, with sulfurous pools of murky water all around. But it wasn't like that at all. A well-manicured campus of pools and wooden buildings spread out around them. Everything looked well-tended. The buildings were designed in an eclectic but mostly contemporary style. Several different pools, set in patios of concrete and wide stones, lay around. Naked people walked, sat, lay down, swam, and bathed all around them. Michael had expected to see a lot of old, fat, naked, unattractive people. A few people were like that, but most of them weren't. Many of them looked to be fit and trim and well-heeled. The ratio of men and women was about even. Some of the women were hot. But it was hard to pull his eyes away from his mom's ass.

As he walked along the path, naked, following Varda, surrounded by naked people, Michael realized he'd never done anything like this in his life. He'd never been to a nudist resort, or beach, or any other place where naked people were all around him like it was no big deal. The weirdness of it, thank goodness, offset the stimulus of seeing lots of attractive female flesh. His cock, still only half erect, behaved itself.

Varda guided them along a path that twisted away from the pool area to a collection of small wooden cabins. "Cabin" probably wasn't the right word. They were small, standalone structures, but they looked modern and inviting. Varda opened the door, pushing a few numbers on a keypad, and showed them into one.

It wasn't big, but it was big enough, with an understated décor of stained natural wood and off-white walls and carpet. A single large bed was pressed up against a side wall. Michael was surprised to see just one. Susanna walked to the far end of the room, and she leaned over to look out at a wooden deck with a sunny meadow beyond the big window. Michael caught a glimpse of her pussy between legs. He felt that twinge below again.

"It's 4 o'clock," Varda said. "There's no program tonight so you're free to do what you like. I recommend you try the hot spring pools. They have different temperatures, and you can figure out which you like best. Dinner is at 6:30 in the common room attached to the main building. You can meet your fellow guests there. Breakfast starts at 7 a.m. tomorrow. You'll have unstructured time after that, until 1 p.m., when the workshop starts. When that's done, you're free to spend more time at the pools and grounds for the rest of the afternoon, and you're stay will end after that. Any questions?"

"That sounds nice," Susanna said. "We'll get unpacked and then go out to the pool area."

"Very well," Varda said. "I will leave you and your partner to get to know the place, and I'll see you at dinner."

Michael furrowed his brow until she left.

"Mom," he said. "Partner? What does that mean? Do they - do they think we're a couple?"

"I'm sure they don't," she said. "I'm sure that's just the language they use. It's a neutral term. They want you to come to this program with an open mind."

"Yeah, maybe," he said. "But there's another thing."

"What's that?" she said.

"There's just one bed, mom. We're supposed to sleep naked together in bed?"

"That's a little awkward," she said, patting her hand on the bedspread as she said it. "But it's a big bed. Looks like a queen-sized bed. Plenty of space for me to have my side and you to have yours. We can put pillows between us if it makes you uncomfortable."

As she talked, she sat down on the end of the bed and her legs parted slightly and Michael saw the lips of her pussy. He tried to pull his eyes away and keep them on her face, but it was almost impossible. Her lips were parted, just a crack.

He wondered what it would be like to part them more, before he stopped his mind from going further in that direction.

Michael felt like he'd fallen down a rabbit hole. This was the strangest experience he'd ever had in his life, by far. Susanna sat naked with legs spread a few feet from him, on the bed. He was naked with a half-hard cock pointing roughly in her direction. He caught her glancing at it, between his own glances at the enticing junction between her legs.

"Well, one way of dealing with the awkwardness is to get out of the room," Susanna said. "Let's go out to the pools."

Michael couldn't argue with that. He had no phone or tablet, so he had no games to play or messages to check. There were no books in the room. The view outside the window was pretty, but it wouldn't hold his attention for long.

Michael and Susanna unpacked their few things, minus clothes, and then walked to the door.

"Um," Michael said. "Where are we going to keep the room key? We're naked. There's no place to keep it."

Susanna pulled it out and looked at.

"There's a code on it, for the door," she said. "445. We can leave the key here. Don't forget the code!"

Ordinarily, that wouldn't be a problem for Michael, because he was good with numbers. But his mind was so focused on the weirdness of the situation and with his mother's lush nude body that he wasn't sure he'd be able to remember it. Susanna, however, was right; there was a pad of number keys next to the handle on the outside of the door.

It was near evening by the time they got back to the pools, and the pools already were darkened by long shadows cast by the buildings around them. There were a few irregularly shaped, small pools and a larger pool. Michael figured out that the larger pool was for cooling off, and the smaller pools were fed by hot water coming directly from the springs. Susanna led the way, walking to the small pool in the middle, where a few other naked people already were gathered enjoying the steaming mineral waters. Her ass swayed in front of Michael as she walked, and he thought to himself that it was a nice, firm ass for a woman her age.

Susanna waded into the pool and plopped into it, but not so far that her breasts were fully submerged. She turned around as Michael walked down the pool's steps into the hot water, and her nipples floated just above the surface. The water was hotter than he expected, but not unbearable. He lowered himself into the water quickly, to hide his confused and half-hard cock from view.

The water felt delicious - not just hot, but tinged with a pleasant, astringent quality from all the natural minerals in it. Michael submerged himself to his neck, and he instantly felt the water doing its work. It was easy to imagine it sucking everything bad and unpleasant out of his body. He closed his eyes for a moment. Michael wasn't a very spiritual person, so he wouldn't have described himself as feeling one with the universe, or anything like that. But a feeling of calm and peace swept over him, and for a moment he forgot that his nude mother bobbed in the water nearby.

He didn't know how long he sat in the water, eyes closed and tuned out to everything around him, but his eyes opened again when he heard his mother laugh. He turned to the source of the noise, and now she was out of the pool, sitting on the edge, talking to a couple that sat together at the edge about a quarter turn around the roundish pool. To Michael's eyes, they looked like they were about thirty, and they had a confident, sleek look that made him think they had money. The woman was gorgeous, with long dark hair and dark eyes. The guy wore expensive sunglasses despite being in the shade.

Michael also noticed quickly the way the woman sat: leaning back, her hands against the stones, one leg turned away and dangling in the water, and the other up and bent, with her foot on the pool edge. Her pose left her pussy on conspicuous display to anyone in or around the pool. Michael couldn't help but stare between her legs for a moment, and he forced himself to turn away to avoid seeming like a creep. He turned to his mom, and to his surprise he found she was in the same position. Her pose was an exact mirror of the younger woman's.

Michael felt a strange vibe about it. It was a clothing-optional resort, and he knew that at such places being nude was regarded as something normal and natural and non-sexual. But he detected a trace of something else going on in his mother's posing. Her knees seemed to be a bit farther apart than they had to be. Her body was inclined farther back than it had to be, and the result was that not only was the entire cleft of her pussy in view, with a hint of pink showing between her labia, but the creased circle of her anus was as well. Susanna was carrying on an animated conversation with the man and woman, letting them see her in her full glory. Michael couldn't see the man's eyes behind his sunglasses, but the glasses faced his mom and they never moved.

"So, you haven't been here before?" he asked Susanna.

"No, we never have," she said. "Our first time."

"Lisa and I come a couple of times a year," the sleek guy said. "We always have a great time. My name's Troy by the way."

"Susanna, "she replied.

"This your partner?" Troy asked, pointing at Michael.

"Uh . . . yes," Susanna replied. She didn't say anything more.

Michael thought it was strange being referred to as his mother's partner, and stranger still that his mother didn't correct Troy. He could see how Troy wouldn't immediately assume he was her son, both because of the circumstances and because Susanna and Michael didn't look much alike. But he wondered why his mother didn't say anything. He assumed she kept quiet because it would have been awkward under the circumstances to reveal the truth. It was becoming increasingly clear that the weekend was not going the way Michael's mom had expected it would. This wasn't a family event. That much was clear.

"I'm Troy," said the sleek man with the glasses, looking at Michael. Michael held out a hand. They shook.

"Michael," he said.

"Nice to meet you," Troy said. Michael noticed he was looking at his mom while he talked to Michael, and Troy's girlfriend was looking at Michael. They exchanged glances.

"If you want to stop by our cabin after dinner, we're number 22," Troy said. "We'd love to have another couple come over. Probably around 8. Feel free to knock if you're interested."

Couple, Michael thought. Troy had called Susanna and Michael a couple. Michael thought this was getting weirder and weirder. Troy obviously was checking out his mom, and Michael had a pretty good idea he was being checked out by Troy's girlfriend.

The chit chat continued for another half hour. The shadows lengthened and then the sun disappeared behind a hill to the west. Susanna and Michael walked back to their room. He let her walk ahead of him, again, and he kept noticing the way her ass swayed as she walked. It swayed a lot. Michael wondered if she was making it sway more than necessary, for his benefit. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't.

There wasn't much to do when they returned to the room. Michael sat on the bed, his dick flopping between his legs, wondering what to do, while Susanna went into the bathroom to take a shower. She left the door open.

Not more than a minute after Susanna started, she called to her son.

"Michael, would you come here for a minute?"

Michael had heard that call before. This time, he responded right away.

From the open door of the bathroom Michael saw his mom in the shower. It was an open shower with a tile floor, and a glass wall and door, with no curtain. Before he said anything, he watched his mother soaping and washing herself. Suds coated her body. Her hands cupped her breasts, swept over and above them, and then spread over her smooth flanks down to her hips. He eyes were closed, and she put a hand between her legs, rubbing soap and suds down there. Michael was mesmerized at the site of his mom's hands running all over her body. A few moments later she opened her eyes.

Michael felt embarrassed to be caught ogling her, but his mom didn't seem to notice or mind.

"Michael," Susanna said. "Are you OK with everything so far? I know this is strange for you." She didn't stop running her hands over her body, working the soap into every nook and crevice, as she spoke. Michael's eyes focused on the hard points of her tits under the soap suds. It was difficult to focus on her words, but he tried.

"It's OK, mom," he said. "It's strange, but I think I'm getting used to it." That wasn't at all true, but he didn't want mom to be alarmed at his agitation.

"I'm glad," she said, facing her son. Her hand rubbed furiously between her legs, flecks of soap spraying all around. "I think we should try to make this as normal as possible."

"Sure, mom," Michael said. There was no way he was ever going to think of this as normal.

Mom finished washing herself, turned off the water, and stepped out of the shower. Michael noticed the way her breasts quivered as she stepped through the shower door, and the way the dangling, wet lips of her pussy glistened in the bathroom light. Nope, he thought. There was no way to see any of this as normal. But he couldn't stop watching.

"You should take a shower, too," she said, as she squeezed past him to get out of the shower. He felt the nubs of her tits brush against his back for a split second.

Michael did as she asked. He turned the dial to a colder than usual setting. He thought the cold water might quell the rising and disturbing interest he was feeling in the gorgeous, nude figure of his mother.

The cold shower was unpleasant, so he cut it short. He got out quickly and toweled off. When he left the bathroom, his mother, as nude and hot as ever, stood before him.

"Let's go to dinner," she said.

Michael thought that sounded like a good idea. As soon as she said it, he realized how hungry he was. They left their room and stepped outside. The sun had long since set, and the trees on the hills around the resort were inky black against a purply sky. But the air still was warm. When Michael thought about where he was headed his self-consciousness came back. He was walking, completely nude, to get dinner, and everyone there would see him nude. It was difficult to get accustomed to this place.

The dining room was spacious and comfortable, with pale oak walls and tables arrayed in rows for the guests. It was half-full of naked people when Michael and Susanna arrived. Along one wall was a buffet. Susanna and Michael loaded their plates with food and took their places at an empty table. Not more than a minute after they sat down, Troy and Lisa joined them - Lisa next to Michael, and Troy next to Susanna. Another couple, about the same age, followed behind Troy and Lisa.

"Susanna and Michael," Troy said. "This is Chuck and Madeline. We met them at the last session, a year ago." Susanna and Michael shook hands with the newcomers.

"Michael and Susanna are new to the program," Troy said, turning to Chuck and Madeline. "They've never been here before."

"Really?" said the guy, Chuck. "This is your first time with the program? We've been for several sessions, but we liked the first one so much we've come back to repeat it. You're going to like it."

Michael had no idea what he was talking about. The words meant nothing to him. He glanced at his mother. She looked confused, too, but she didn't seem to want to let on.

"Well, uh," she said, stammering, "We felt comfortable going to this . . . session."

"That's awesome," said Madeline. Her breasts were small, but her nipples weren't. They were an unusually dark pink and they stood out in hard points from her chest. Michael felt a tingle between his legs.

"How long have you two been together?" Madeline asked, looking at first at Michael and then at Susanna.

Michael didn't know what to say. This was all getting stranger and stranger.

"We've been together for a long time," Susanna said. Michael looked at her and she caught his gaze. Neither one of them said anything more.

Michael concentrated on eating his dinner, and Susanna did, too. The other two couples at the table talked to each other. Michael and Susanna joined the conversation from time to time, but neither of them contributed much. They were too confused about the steady flow of innuendo between their table companions.

Madeline and Chuck finished first. After they had left the table, Troy spoke.

"Dinner finishes early here. How about joining us at our cabin afterward? We can hang out. And we've got a nice bottle of Chardonnay that needs drinking. It'll be fun."

Michael looked at his mom. This was her vacation, and it was her call.

"OK," she said. She looked at her son, as though to get approval. He had no idea what he felt about the situation, so he looked at her with what he thought was a noncommittal expression. Evidently, that was enough for Susanna.

"We'll do it," she said.

"Great," Troy said. "Come by our place any time after eight o'clock."

A few minutes later Susanna and Michael left the dining room and walked back to the cabin. Inside, they walked about the room nervously, not sure what to say to each other. Susanna didn't say anything, so Michael spoke first.

"They think we're a couple, mom," he said. "Nobody here knows I'm your son."

"I know," she said. "This is very strange. I thought this would be different. I'm not sure why. I'm confused about things."

"What do you want to do?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "It's still early, and I'm not tired. I'm not sure what to do here. Why don't we go to Troy and Lisa's cabin?"

Michael had no other ideas, so he followed his mom out of the cabin. A minute later they knocked on the door of Troy and Lisa's cabin.

As Susanna knocked on the door, Michael stared at her ass, and at the rest of her. His mother was beautiful. But she and he didn't look much alike. He could see how people would not assume they were mother and son. But it was weird to think that everyone at the resort saw them as a couple.

He didn't have more time to think about it, because the door to the cabin opened suddenly. It was Troy, naked, of course.

"Susanna!" he said. "Michael! Come on in."

Lisa sat on the bed, facing the door, legs parted wide and chest out, her pale tits seeming to stare right at Michael. There was no way to see her pose as anything but inviting. Troy motioned his guests to sit on a sofa against the wall. He handed each of them a wine glass and poured Chardonnay into each one. Then he sat on the bed next to Lisa and wrapped his arm around her side. She giggled.

"Do you feel like you're getting the hang of the place?" Troy asked, putting a slight emphasis on the word "hang."

"I think so," Susanna said. "It's still new to us. We've never been to a place like this before."

"I get it," he said. "You'll get used to it fast. I mean, it's not as though you haven't seen each other like this before, right?" He laughed.

Neither Susanna nor Michael said anything in response. They never had seen each other completely naked before today, but Michael wasn't going to tell that to Troy. He tried to keep his cool, thinking this was by far the weirdest situation of his life.

"Lisa and I fell in love with this place the first time, and we love coming back. It's been great for the relationship. Isn't that right, baby?"

"Yes, it is," Lisa said, turning Troy's face to hers with her hands and planting a huge, noisy open-mouthed kiss on his waiting lips. Michel saw the tip of her tongue enter his mouth. He cupped her breast.

Susanna and Michael watched quietly. They sipped their wine. Troy and Lisa kissed for nearly a minute before Troy came up for air.

"I hope you don't mind," he said. "This place just makes me horny. Feel free to make yourselves comfortable." He winked at Michael when he said it, and then kissed Lisa more, his hand now grabbing her hair in bunches at the back of her head.

Susanna and Michael looked at each other. They finished their wine. Michael was curious about what his mom was going to do. He didn't wait long.

"Troy, Lisa," she said. "I'm actually rather tired. It's been a long day. I think we're going to go back to our cabin. Thank you for the wine."

"You sure?" Lisa asked after peeling her lips off Troy's. "We thought you might be open to some fun. Troy and I are very open." She looked into Michael's eyes as she spoke. Michael caught Troy staring at his mom.

"I'm sure," Susanna said, standing up. "I'm tired. Another time, maybe."

Michael and Susanna got out of there fast and shut the door behind them.

"Mom, what have you gotten us into?"

"I swear, Michael, I don't understand. This is not like what I expected at all. After they assumed we were a couple I was embarrassed to say we were mother and son. And now this deception's been going on for a while. I think, to avoid awkwardness, we should just keep that quiet and keep our cool."

Michael thought it was a tall order to ask him to keep his cool while hanging out with his naked mother at a resort where everyone thought they were lovers. But he couldn't think of anything else to do.

Back inside the cabin again a minute later, Susanna beckoned to Michael.

"Let's go out on the back deck. It's warm out and it's still early."

"I thought you were tired."

"No, I just said that to get out of there and leave those two to themselves."

A door in the back of the cabin opened to an uncovered, private wooden deck. It faced a meadow, with a small creek gurgling through it. A fat moon, just past full, shone overhead, bathing the meadow and surrounding trees in a milky sheen.

Two lounge chairs with the backs propped up faced each other. Susanna took one. Michael took the other. She put her hands behind her head and turned her face skyward, to the spectral light of the moon. If anything, Michael thought his mom looked even more beautiful under the light of the moon than she had during the day.

Susanna looked young for her age in any light, but the light from the moon softened and took years off her skin. Her chest was arched, and her breasts lay firm against it, nipples pointed up. Michael's eyes traced a curve between her breasts, over her navel and down to the gap between her legs. Her thighs were open again, and the full slit of her pussy was on display. The lips glistened faintly under the moon glow.

Michael felt it: his cock hardening. He looked down at the lap of his own naked body, and his cock stood up and away from him. He looked up again. Susanna's eyes were out of sight, looking toward the canopy of stars over them. Michael didn't think she could see him. He heard her sigh. She shifted and her left thigh bent open still more.

His cock was rock hard now. Glancing briefly at Susanna again to confirm that she was looking away from him, he touched the erect shaft with his fingers. His eyes were on his mom's pussy as he touched it. He knew he shouldn't do it, not only because his mom might see him but because touching it would only make his need worse. He wasn't going to jerk himself off in front of his mom. But the lure of gripping and stroking himself in front of his mom's open pussy was almost too much to handle. He gripped his cock a little more tightly, between his thumb and too fingers. He thought that maybe if his mom lay that way for just a few minutes and he was quiet -

"Beautiful, isn't?" Susanna asked, breaking the silence. She shifted her gaze back to Michael slowly, giving him time to pull his hand away before she saw it. Or so he thought.

"It is," he said, turning his eyes away from the gap between her legs to the moonlit meadow. He bent his legs up to prevent her from seeing his erection. He wasn't sure if she saw it or not.

Mom stretched her arms above her head and purred, her lambent, nude body stretched like a cat.

They didn't say anything for a long time. Susanna lay nearly still on her chair, the moon's rays reflecting off her lithe body. After a while she stood up and walked to the rail framing the porch. She leaned forward against it, her ass pushed out and back toward Michael. She leaned over far enough that she gave Michael just a shadowy peek beneath her ass of a slit framed by petite, dangling lips. His cock swelled again. He began stroking it. He felt terrible doing it, sort of. But he couldn't help himself. His arousal overwhelmed his guilt. His pace quickened, but he tried to keep his movements as quiet as possible, so his mother would not hear him. Crickets chirped all around them in a nighttime symphony, masking the sound of his stroking and helping him avoid detection. Finally, Susanna turned around. Michael moved his hand away before she did, but he didn't shift his body fast enough to hide his hard-on before she looked at him.

In the dark Michael couldn't tell if she saw his erect cock. She stood still by the rail of the deck and her face bore a faint, inscrutable smile. Michael wondered if she had seen more than he thought she had.

"Come join me over her, Michael." She patted the cap rail to the side of her. Michael got up. There was no way to hide his hardness, and it careened from side to side as he approached her. He leaned over the rail just as she did, staring out into the meadow. Under the pale glow of the moon and stars, surrounded by the song of crickets, and standing next to his nude mom, whose breasts were pressed between her arms, Michael felt light-headed.

"This meadow reminds me of something I heard once. A story. Told by a woman who named Alida. She called herself a shaman. I visited her with a few friends a couple of years ago."

Michael vaguely remembered his mother telling him about that visit. It had been a few years ago, earlier in her post-professional, neo-hippie phase. She'd gone with some like-minded female friends going through similar mid-life crises.

"This shaman, Alida, she gathered us into her living room. And we were asking her questions about love. How to find it. We were all man-less at the time. And Alida shushed us. She said 'That is not a question to ask. To receive love, you must give it of yourself. You must give yourself.'

"And then she told us to close our eyes and imagine standing in a meadow under a full moon. And she told us to imagine that we were naked, and dancing under the moon, giving ourselves up to the moon. She said, 'Do that, and the moon will transform you. Give yourself, utterly and completely, to the person you love most. Under the moon, you'll find the love you need.'"

Susanna paused. "It didn't make a lot of sense to us at the time. But it stuck with me. Her words were so seductive I could imagine myself in that meadow, dancing naked, giving myself to the moon. This meadow reminded me of that."

She paused and stood quietly at the rail again. Neither of them said anything for a while.

"Time to go inside," she said suddenly. "I'm going to go to bed. I want to get a good night's sleep for tomorrow."

Michael agreed, but the next part might have been the strangest of all - climbing nude into the same bed as his mother. Before she turned out the light, he caught another glimpse of the curve of her body and the swell of her breasts. He didn't get a long glimpse, but he thought her nipples looked hard.

"Good night, Michael," she said as the light switched off. For a moment, their bodies under the covers, they lay on the bed facing each other, and Susanna smiled. Then she turned away. Michael did too. It would be easier to get to sleep, he thought, if he wasn't staring at her nude back.

It wasn't easy to sleep, though. The combination of utter weirdness and intense arousal kept Michael up for an hour or more. He stared into the darkness of the room around him, the image of his mom's body dancing naked in a meadow through his head, giving herself to the moon and to the one she loved most. He wondered who that was.

His feelings were jumbled. It had been a strange day. He had no idea what the next day would bring, but he guessed it would be even stranger.

Eventually, he fell asleep.

Michael slept until 8, awakened finally by the sound of the shower coming from the bathroom. He rubbed his eyes, threw the covers off, and stood up, stretching and yawning. He walked across the room to get his toiletry kit from his bag, and he noticed Susanna had left the bathroom door open. He walked toward it.

"Morning, mom," he said, his voice still scratchy from just waking.

He saw his mom through a clear glass shower door. She was spreading a thick lather of soap over her breasts, cupping them and rubbing them with vigor. She turned and faced him as the water washed the soap off her chest.

"Good morning, Michael. Did you sleep well?"

He could have slept better, but he didn't tell her that.

"I slept fine," he said. "So, what's up next on the agenda at this place?"

"Breakfast," she said. "We're actually late, so we need to hurry to get ready. Come on in here. I'm just about done."

MIchael was getting hard once again, his cock standing out nearly straight from his body. He thought it better to wait, but he didn't know when his hardness would subside.

Fuck it, he thought. Mom got me into this crazy situation. She's going to have to see the consequences.

He walked into the room, his dick bobbing ahead of him. This time, he could tell mom saw it, but she didn't say anything. She pushed the shower door open to let him in. She finished rinsing off and walked out, but not before her breasts grazed against his back, just like the day before.

This is going to drive me crazy, Michael thought.

He wondered if he should say something. He couldn't quite tell if mom was just trying to push him into thinking this was normal, or if she had some other thought in mind. He couldn't really let his brain go there - thinking about his mom that way, wondering what her intentions were. But he couldn't completely stop it from going there, either.

He showered quickly, toweled off, and shaved. Susanna had rubbed her head furiously with the towel, but her hair was still damp when Michael told her he was ready.

By the time they got to breakfast most of the other guests were nearly done with theirs. When Michael was halfway through his scrambled eggs, organic toast, and orange juice, a gray-haired 60-something man entered the room. Unlike the rest of the occupants of the dining room, he was clothed, in white shorts and t shirt. He clapped his hands as he walked forward.

"Good morning, everyone," he said in a voice that Michael thought was too loud and cheerful for early morning. "My name is Thomas, and I'm the director and instructor for today's workshop. I wanted to remind you about our agenda for the day. The program is at 1:30. Between now and then you are free to do as you please, hang out by the springs and pools, get a massage, or stroll the grounds. We have some lovely hiking trails. Lunch will be at 12:00. The program begins in the pavilion room, so I will see you there at 1:30. We recommend that you take a shower before coming, especially if you've been hiking."

Thomas turned around and left. Susanna was in no hurry to finish breakfast, but she didn't say much. Michael wondered what she was thinking. His eyes strayed a few times to the swell of her breasts, which shook and swayed faintly as she ate. He got a second helping of the eggs and some free-range chicken sausages, and Susanna was only just finishing her first serving when he'd finished his second. Finally, she was ready to leave. They walked back to the room.

"So, what now, mom?" Michael asked.

"I thought we would go on a hike. It looks like a great day for it. But I need to put on some sun screen and get my sandals on first."

In the room Michael found his sport sandals. He wasn't going to go barefoot on the hiking trail. Susanna lathered her body with sunscreen in broad strokes. Michael saw delicate hands spread it over her breasts, then down her abs, and then finally between her open thighs. She didn't miss a spot. He hadn't thought about putting sunscreen down there, but he guessed it made sense. It was paler than the rest of her.

"Get my back?" she asked him.

After she asked, he realized that although he'd seen her naked for the last day and been next to her, he hadn't put his hands on her nude body until now. The lotion spit out of the tube as he squeezed it, a big dollop in his hand. He mashed both hands together and then started at her shoulders.

His mother's skin felt delicious. It was soft and smooth, but with a tone of hardness underneath that bespoke the fit shape in which she kept herself. His hands circled lower from her shoulders toward the middle of the back. Michael was getting hard yet again. He squirted out more of the sunscreen, more than he needed, and continued down her back, where she obviously had spread no lotion. He still had more on his hands by the time he reached the bottom of her back, so he quickly ran his hands down her butt, making sure each cheek was covered.