Growing up with Mom

This is the story of my relationship with my mom. My dad left when I was very young so as far back as I can remember, it was always just me and my mom.
One of my favorite things to do when I was little was my nightly bath with mom. I loved the feel of her skin against mine, especially when we were both soapy. I loved how she scrubbed me all over. I loved when she’d wrap me up in a big fluffy towel when we were done. It wasn’t anything sexual, it was just the wonderful sensations that I enjoyed. I can’t remember exactly how old I was when that ritual stopped, but I remember the day it happened. My mom had just finished scrubbing me and I wanted to return the favor. I took the soap and started soaping my mom up. She’d already explained to me about breasts, and how all women had them, different sizes, that they were for feeding babies, etc., but I had never really taken a look between her legs until that day. As I scrubbed her, I asked her how come she didn’t have what I had. She explained that women had different things than men. As I kept washing her down there, she moaned a little, then grabbed my arm and said, “I think it’s clean enough.” I finished with the rest of her body, not realizing that anything had happened. When we got out and were watching tv while drying off, my mom told me that she thought I was old enough to start taking showers…by myself. I was kind of sad that I wouldn’t get to take any more baths with my mom, but I was also excited by the prospect of taking showers, just like big people, that I didn’t put up a big fight. That was years ago, though, and I only remember it because that was the first time I touched my mom’s pussy.
The real story begins several years later. As I said, it was just me and my mom. My mom thought that since I didn’t have a father, she should be available to me at all times, so she worked from home as a telemarketer. I don’t ever remember my mom going to any great lengths to hide her body from me. Modesty was practically unheard of at my house, so it wasn’t rare for me to see her naked coming out of the shower or changing clothes. In the mornings, she’d come out wearing a terrycloth robe as often as she’d come out in a short silk robe. When I started jerking off around 12, I started looking forward to the days when she would wear the short silk ones. Most of them weren’t much longer than long shirts, and she wouldn’t bother tying them too tightly, which would give me fleeting glimpses of her breasts. At that age, I was looking anywhere and everywhere for masturbation material, and it was countless nights that I would jerk off picturing my mom’s legs, or her breasts, or her ass as I stroked myself to orgasm. On one of her silk days, I got up the nerve to tell her how great her legs looked, she blushed and thanked me, and started wearing the short silk ones most of the time. We were always very touchy-feely, spending nights at home laying on each other on the couch while we watched tv. It was only in the morning that she would wear a robe, most of the time she’d walk around the house in a t-shirt and panties.