Mama, my embodied dream. I promise you'll like it.

To this height the memory would not be more than distorted fragments in my head, that's it wouldn't have marked my early sexual appetite, earlier than most people could believe. The story begins very early, since at that time I needed help to take a bath, for comfort reasons. The case is that when entering to bathe, there was a kind of protocol, which consisted of closing my eyes and turning towards some wall when she (mom) took a bath, as I was still there. But constantly I wondered what the sense of this was, what was so important that I shouldn't see?. One day I discovered it, curiosity already surpassed any fear, only lacked finding the moment. With my eyes still closed, I turned slowly and opened them just a little, eyelashes seemed to cover my sight until I realized those hairs didn't belong to my face, the first thing I saw was her vagina, which was at the height of my face, surrounded by hair although it could be observed what was there. Tense, terrified that she had noticed me moving nervously upwards, but she looked straight ahead, with her precious face showing a smile marking her beautiful features, and for a few moments I could observe the line starting from her high arms over the hair and continuing with pronounced curves all over her body to her breasts, those big, firm, and white breasts. Ashamed, with a feeling of guilt, I returned to my initial position and closed my eyes, thinking that was it, not expecting what would come later. Of a moment to another I feel a push, which makes me lose balance and by reflex try to recover by leaning on the wall, turn my head with curiosity, what pushed me? There she is, standing with her back towards me, washing her legs while I had a close-up of her anus, which was just millimeters from my eyes, her rear seemed Open, like when you put your hands on your buttocks and pull them in opposite directions, I still remember it with utmost detail, the line where her vagina began to transform into a kind of flower, which at one point turned back into a line, that would lead to that wonderful hole. Already then, this situation continued, wanting to be able to turn around, but only appreciating the soap water flowing beneath my legs. Maybe you won't like what this story represents, maybe you'll never feel what I felt that time, but I'm sure if you had been there, you would probably have also fallen in love with her. If you want details, there are some I can't put here for reasons that don't come to mind, although you can ask privately. It would interest me greatly to know your opinion, or if something similar has happened to you.