Vesuvius Bubbling

Not surprisingly, we slept in the next morning.

We had made love after I woke you up, then we both slept and woke again around two in the morning. I was on my side you was behind me, your arm round me cradling my breast. I don't know what woke us, probably you shook me for I woke to the most marvellous sensation of a hard on pressed against my bum. That hadn't happened since my divorce and only rarely during my marriage.

"Mmmmm," I sighed reaching behind me and stroking you. "God I have reared a horny little sod haven't I?" You pressed your full erection against my hand and muttered.

"Little?"

I smiled as I ran my fingers up and down that shaft. "Well figuratively speaking that is."

You pushed against my hand, using it as you would my pussy. Not too hard, just rhythmical, slow surges. At the same time you kissed my head, neck and back and squeezed and rubbed my breasts. It was lovely.

"Oh Christ Cat, I want you again," you sighed into my ear, just before pushing the tip of your tongue in there. I liked the feel of that and hearing you say you wanted me.

"Yes darling," I whispered wiggling my bum back a little and easing your cock between my legs "I want you too."

I pushed up the bed a little so that the angle was right and then lifted one leg and opened it slightly. Still holding you as you moved a tad closer I slid the tip of your cock between my lips. You got both arms round me, cupped my breasts, slid effortlessly between my well lubricated lips and then screwed me hard and quick. That was perfect.

Peter.

It was an amazing night. It was also quite a fitful one for I must have gone to sleep half a dozen times only to then wake up for more sex. And boy is that an incredible feeling!

We'd done it twice with you on your back and then I took you from behind with us on our sides my front to your back; spooning I think it's called.

It was well into the early hours, in fact I think it was getting light or the moon was particularly bright for I could see you fairly clearly, when something woke us both. We were lying staring at each other. God you looked as beautiful as you did sexy. I looked into your eyes as slowly I pushed the sheet down exposing your breasts.

"These are so fantastic mu.. er sorry Cat."

You smiled and ran your fingertips across my face. "Thank you darling, you liked them even when you were a baby, you suckled them long enough" you said your eyes glistening.

"And that's exactly what I would like to do now?"

"Suck my breasts?"

"Yes, can I?"

Your answer was to sit half upright supporting yourself on your elbow and turning slightly towards me. You held your boobs in your hands, sort of offering them to me and said huskily.

"Here they are baby, they are all yours."

Was that fucking sex or what?

I had touched a few girls' tits, and had briefly sucked, well more licked, a couple of girl's nipples and I had kissed yours. But I had never seriously laid and really sucked anything; I realised I had never made oral love to a woman's breasts. But I did to yours and by Christ was it fantastic. What, of course, made it even better was that they were my mother's breasts, they were the breasts of the woman I loved, the woman to whom I was going to make love, right now.

They felt and tasted incredible. I sucked and licked, chewed and kissed the soft pliant flesh of each breast and the rubbery, more wrinkled flesh of each areola and nipple. I rubbed each of them, I squeezed and cupped them, I pushed them together and I pressed them as flat against your chest as they would go. Alternatively I lifted them up, sucked the nipples and licked the undersides. Although the taste and feel was exciting, I think your low groans and moans and the expression on your face were even more so.

You let go of one of your breasts and reached down and found my cock. You stroked that and cupped my balls as I sucked and chewed your nipples. I reached downwards too and found your pubic mound. I wiggled my fingers, you opened your legs a little and I found your clit, I think. In any case when I rubbed what I imagined was your clit, you grunted and your body jerked. We were both sighing, groaning, rubbing and fondling each other as we moved towards yet another wonderful fuck.

Cat.

The next day you went to Herculaneum, the other town engulfed by Vesuvius erupting, but this one by ash as opposed to the lava of Pompeii.

I was by myself most of the day.

In the cold light of day my euphoria of the night before wore off a bit; well more than a bit. I felt dreadfully guilty and enormously worried about the effect of what we had done and were doing and what affect that would have on our, and particularly your, future. We had gone past the stage of 'it being an accident' or 'I couldn't help myself' or, even 'it was just a one off.'

'For Christ's sake, you took my bikini off in the pool and we went to my bed, naked, and nearly shagged. I masturbated you in a field then I invited my son to my bed again and you fucked me four times. He fucked me four times.' I kept telling myself. 'Four fucking times.' 'Four fucks in a night.' Just hearing those words in my head gave me a huge guilt trip as well as, I have to admit, a massive surge of excitement at the memory of them.

There was no defence, no justification and no way out. We had committed incest big time and where on earth could we as mother and son go now? I had no idea.

I pondered, mulled, worried and thought about it for every moment of that day.

'Where now and what now?' These were the questions that kept coming into my mind. There was no answers in there, I'm afraid.

Then I would ask myself, the big, big question to which I knew for sure there was no answer. 'How the hell can a mother fall sexually in love with her son?' For that's where we were and that's what had happened. Bollocks it was such a mess.

But having considered and thought about all of that, having looked at the situation from every angle and having examined all the current and as many of the future problems as I could, I knew I couldn't stop: my love, my lust, my hunger, my need and my desire for you were too strong. I had to go on, we had to continue to push the boundaries out further, yes I had to continue my incestuous affair with my son.

*

Would you like me to continue the story of my affair with my son? Would you like to know what else happened in that villa in Sorrento? If so, then mail me and tell me that; tell me that you would like to read more about the rumblings of Vesuvius.