This is the second part of my Vesuvius story; a mother and son on holiday together in Sorrento, Italy.
Whilst, I hope that anyone just reading this will find it stimulating, I really recommend the reading of the previous part first. That is, of course, your choice though. Enjoy
I'd made love, I'd had sex, I'd slept with men and I'd been shagged and fucked by them. Peter and I did all those things. Yet, at the same time, we did none of them. What we did was so much more than any of those. So much more than all of them put together. So much more, both emotionally and physically than I had ever felt a woman could do with a man unless, of course that man was her son!
It was ironic really. I had agonised over the decision so much and for so long, but then, in the end, I made it so quickly and executed it so fast.
I was about to get dressed to join him on the terrace. I was in my bedroom, naked having just come out of the shower. Looking at my body helped me with the decision. I think for the first time since we had been in Italy I saw my body as my son had been seeing it. My full breasts on which he had suckled, my seemingly, almost permanently erect nipples, my, nearly, but not quite, flat stomach that had stretched for him, my respectably long and relatively slender tanned legs. Also my ash grey, shoulder length hair and my slightly, but not overly so for my forty four years, lined face all reflected back to me from the full length mirror just, I realised as he would see them.
They reflected back to me just as they would have been to him as he had removed my bikini in the pool last night, as he had gazed at me in the water, as we stood naked embracing on the side and finally as we had lain naked in my bed.
That had been too soon, though. We were not ready. I was not attuned to having sex with my son. The enormity was too great and the realisation that he wanted me as much as I wanted him was so recent.
Now it was different. Now I had grown used to my son wanting to have sex with me and I had accepted that I wanted, so badly, to have sex with him. Yes I had accepted those facts, intellectually and physically, but not really emotionally. My body was in total accord with that, but my mind was only partially on board with those sentiments. As I looked at myself in the mirror I began to let my body rule my mind. That did it for me.
Slipping naked under the single sheet in the large four poster bed I made a decision. Fate would be the decider. If you came to my room we would make love, if you didn't then we wouldn't. It was, in the end as simple as that, just like flipping a coin, heads or tails; just like a switch, on or off.
Of course you came. Not quickly, but eventually. I heard the sound of your footsteps outside my room; I had left the door ajar. I heard you cough announcing that you was there. I was lying in the bed naked and rigidly tight with expectation, hope and anticipation. Slowly the door was pushed open, creaking slightly. With the shutters closed it was dim, almost dark. I vaguely made out your shape.
"Come in Peter, come closer," I croaked. I was so nervous I could hardly speak. I was doing the ultimate act that a mother can do with a son; I was offering myself to him.
You moved closer, you would be able to see me now, I looked at you and our eyes locked. In what was really a totally uncharacteristic gesture or movement for me with anyone let alone my son, I slowly lifted the sheet up and away from me. I exposed my nakedness to you, I revealed my nudity and readiness to you, yes, I flaunted the body that was making this decision at you.
Your eyes opened a little wider at the sight and even wider as I said.
"Come to bed with me Peter, come and make love to me." I wanted to say 'Come and fuck me, come and shove your cock up your mother's cunt:' I need to be sexually expressive when highly aroused. And boy was I highly aroused, but my instincts told me that our relationship was not ready for such words, well not yet at least.
"Oh God yes," you groaned, moving towards the bed.
I smiled. "No, undress for me first, come to my bed naked as I am."
You needed no second invitation and quickly you pulled the tee shirt over your head and started fumbling with your belt and zip.
"Slowly Peter, take it easy," I whispered, partly trying to relax you and partly because I wanted to savour every second of you becoming naked in preparation of making love to me; it was such a huge thing, such a seminal moment in both our lives.
As your shorts and boxers dropped to the marble tiled floor I could hardly suppress a gasp of pleasure at the wondrous sight. You were rampantly erect with your long, sturdy cock rearing right up your flat stomach. If the male form can be beautiful, I was thinking as I stretched my arms out to you, then your youthful, lithe, firm body and stirringly hard cock epitomised everything of beauty in your gender.
It was more than I could ever have hoped for: my mother lying in bed naked, lifting up the sheet to show me her gorgeous body and asking me to make love to her. It was all I had been dreaming about for so long.
She looked so beautiful, so sexy, so alluring and so, what was I searching for, yes available. She now clearly wanted me. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. I could see by the look in her eyes and the way she moved that something had changed. She no longer looked furtive, guilty or concerned. She wasn't taught and resistant with her movements. She seemed at ease with herself. She didn't hide her body from me, didn't try to divert my gaze. Instead, in the nicest and most appropriate way, she was flaunting it at me as if to say 'Here's my body, the body that bore you, it was yours then and is yours now, so take it, have it, fuck it.' And how fucking awesome was that!
I whipped my tee shirt off and fumbled with my shorts as my eyes roamed over what was soon to be mine. The luscious breasts, the stomach, the thighs and the pubic covered mound guarding your most precious place. I slowed down as you told me and then slid my shorts and boxers down. God was I hard.
"Come here baby," you whispered wiggling over to the side of the bed as I came and stood by that. You raised yourself up into a half sitting position and went on "Are you sure about this darling?"
As I moved so close that I could smell your male muskiness and see the bloated veins on the underside of your cock, I felt I had to give you one more chance to back out from what, in all probability, would be a life changing act.
"I have never been more certain mum, sorry Cat," You said quietly just before I took your gorgeous erection in both of my hands.
At that moment as I brought my face close to it, I was sure I had never seen anything so beautiful and desirable in my entire forty four years.
I looked up at you and stared right into your eyes. We looked at each other for a moment or two as I softly caressed the smooth, hard, hot, throbbing cock and stroked your balls with my fingertip.
"You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen," I whispered, totally truthfully as I dragged my gaze from your eyes and down to what was in my hands. "And this is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," I sighed unable to resist kissing the uncircumcised cock right on its tip.
As you moved forward the sheet fell away from you and the glory of your total nakedness really hit me. God you were so beautiful, so sexy and so desirable. Despite moving across a soft feather mattress half covered and slightly entangled in a sheet there was a feline gracefulness in the way you, sort of, sidled up to me. As we stared at each other, your hands magically almost reaching out our taking my achingly hard cock between them, I could see so much in your eyes. Desire, lust, want and, most of all, love, all the emotions I hoped you could see in mine.
The first touch of your smooth, cool hands on my genitals was indescribable. As you gently and so lovingly caressed me I slowly pushed myself against them. When you told me how beautiful you thought I and my cock were I felt so proud and then, when you kissed the tip of my cock I wasn't sure whether it nearly made me cum or faint.
"Now come to bed with me darling," you whispered.
The fear, the conflict, the guilt had all gone. Well of course they hadn't gone, but with my body and part of my mind now taking control of, not just my movements, but also what I was thinking, they had been 'parked' in a convenient recess of my mind. As I helped you onto the bed, my hands greedily still holding your cock, so I knew they would be back, but I had managed to move into a sort of state of grace where they didn't matter; a mood where I could push the things I didn't want to think about to one side, and focus on those I did want to think about. Hence, right and wrong, incest, the future, how it might affect us, your father, our family and what if someone found out vanished into the ether. All that existed was you, me and our bodies. All that I was focusing on was my darling son, his gorgeous cock and my hungry waiting cunt. My entire being seemed at that moment to revolve singularly about us making love.
We lay on our sides, our faces touching and our mouths kissing. Our hands were no longer reserved or reticent, but now confidently roamed the others body finding interesting and arousing places; my breasts, your bottom, my nipples, your balls, my clit and your cock. They went everywhere as we gradually moved ourselves towards what at this time was the ultimate act in our relationship; the most extreme act a mother and son can do.
With my lips clamped to yours and your tongue deep in my mouth I rolled onto my back. Knowingly you rolled on top of me. Your cock was pressing into me from where the base of it pressed against the hood covering my clit, over my pubic mound and up the yielding softness of my stomach to almost may navel.
I stroked the back of your head as we broke the kiss.
"Are you ready darling," I breathed, my heart pounding and my pulses racing.
The tension of yesterday had gone. Just as the way you had masturbated me in the field earlier on had relieved the sexual tightness that had built up in the restaurant, so now the way you had invited me into your bed removed the emotional tightness and the mental resistance, which had been so apparent when we had arrived back.
Your eyes and hands on my cock felt marvellous as you eased me onto the bed with you. Your body in my arms, my cock pressed against your stomach, your breasts mashed against my chest, your hands on my bum and balls and your skin to my touch all combined into a kaleidoscope of such sensations and feelings that I felt I as though I was smoking one of the spliffs I had with the guys now and then at parties. I was floating as I rolled on top of you and kissed you deeply. We were so near, so close, pray god I was thinking don't let the same thing happen again.
I knew the traumas that you had been going through, the concerns and worries the guilt and the remorse. I knew it was far more stressful for you than me. Alright, I was not taking it lightly. It wasn't just one of the quick, almost uncaring shags I'd had with the girls from school and the older ones I managed to pull at the clubs. I was acutely aware that I was moving into an area of sex and relationships about which I had no experience and little knowledge, but then who did. After all, I had asked myself so many times, how many eighteen year old guys fall sexually in love with their mother. No matter how small a number that was, I knew that it was massive in comparison to how many actually fucked their mum.
The obverse of that was no matter how traumatic, concerning and worrying it was for me it was nothing compared to how it must be for you.
To be truthful, I was thinking as we snuggled up together, my main concern had, all along, been what you would think if you had found out my feelings for you; until that moment in the pool, I had no way of knowing for sure whether my mixed up feelings of love, lust and sexual desire were reciprocated. I was not that concerned about the right or wrong, the guilt or shame and the future. But I knew you were, as being a responsible mother you had to be and that made my heart go out to you even more as you sighed.
"Oh darling, make love to me, please make love to me now."
The sensation of my hands on my son's muscular, tanned and smooth back sent shudders through me. Your flesh felt every bit as beautiful as it had looked when you had stood beside the bed naked and rampant with your erection nestled in my hands. I slavishly caressed and rubbed you. You felt so good, so smooth, so firm, so young and so ready to fuck me. As that phrase went through my mind I shuddered. I had now accepted totally that we were going to have full sex and that, I was realising, was what I had wanted for some time. The difference now, as I wiggled your hips so that you slid between my parted thighs, I recognised was that I accepted that as something good and lovely, something I wanted and, I knew, something I needed badly; in fact, I was accepting, it was something that I was becoming unable to resist.
You were between my legs, the tip of your cock was nuzzling against my lips; we were as good as there, just one thrust and you would be in me. My heart pounded at the thought, that at last, at long, long last we were about to make love. That after such a time I was no longer just your mother, not simply a woman, and I was about to become your lover.
I ruffled the hair on the back of your neck with one hand as I rested the other fairly firmly on one of the beautifully rounded cheeks of your pert bum. I had prepared myself, I was ready, I was anticipating your 'invasion' of my insides. It was what I wanted, it was what you wanted, it was what we wanted, it was our destiny and no one knew where that would lead us, but that did not matter. Nothing else did matter and all other considerations palled into insignificance when compared to what we were about to do.
"Yes, darling," I grunted into your ear as your strong arms pulled me even tighter against you. It felt so good to be held like that, it was as if you were protecting me and shielding me against all the conventions of the world outside us.
Yet you hesitated. For one dreadful moment I panicked thinking you had a change of heart as I had the night before. I wondered momentarily if the enormity of committing incest, of us having sex of you fucking your mum had got to you.
"Mum, er Cat," you mumbled, my hair obviously getting into your mouth.
"What baby," I whispered with bated breath.
"Condom, I'm not wearing one."
Smiling and pleased with your thoughtfulness and consideration, I replied. "Don't worry Peter, I want to feel you, so fuck me just like this, please."
'Fucking hell she wants me to fuck her bareback' I thought, realising I had never done that with anyone for fear of catching something. 'But I won't from my mother' I thought my pulses racing at the idea of unprotected cock to cunt sex.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course darling."
"Oh god mum, thanks, that's fantastic," I groaned easing my hips forward and opening your lips. The sensation of them closing round the bulbous knob of my cock where my foreskin had rolled back leaving the more sensitive, purple glans bare and exposed was fantastic; something I had never experienced before.
"Oh yes, Peter, oh yes that's so very ok. Now love me."
I needed no further invitation now. All the ground work, all the preparation, all the foreplay and all the 'should we or shouldn't we' had been done. We were both ready and fully primed to have sex.
After all that had gone on before, all my thinking and all the times I had lain in bed wanking as I imagined doing this, sliding into you, entering, penetrating you was so easy. And as easy as it was so it was wonderful.
With simply a small thrust of my hips I slid effortlessly up and up you until the hilt of my cock pressed against your clit and my balls, heavy with the spunk they had prepared for you, slapped against you.
'Oh God, I'm fucking her' I thought to myself as a deep moan of joy and pleasure slipped from my throat.
As you slid up me, just one word came into my mind; perfection. We fitted like a hand in a glove, it was as if my cunt had been made for your cock I thought. I shuddered with the sensation of you being in me and nearly smiling at the incongruity of it having been made for you; it hadn't, but it was where you came from I, nearly, giggled as I gasped at the stupendous sensations.
You went so deep, as far as you could go, you went to places others had never reached, but then I thought you were the largest I had ever had. What irony! At the age of forty four I was having sex with the largest cock that had ever entered me, and it was my son's!
Once inside me and fully up me you just lay there still and rigid as we got used to each other. Being in your arms, your mouth on me your cock buried in me was a very easy situation to get used to. It was gorgeous.
You were far more experienced than I had imagined. I found myself slightly annoyed at that; my baby being experienced at having sex. What total irony that was, but momentarily I couldn't help my 'normal' maternal feelings surfacing. Of course, as you started to move those 'normal' maternal feelings were replaced with a very, very different set of feelings and they were far from maternal.
"Oh God, Peter," I groaned squeezing your back and pushing myself harder against you.
"Yes, is it ok?" You asked pumping yourself up and down me.
"Oh darling," I breathed "It's wonderful."
I wanted to show you how good I was. But then I guess any young guy with an older woman wants to do that. It was special for me though, with my first older woman being my mother. How on earth I was thinking as I started to surge up and down you, do you show your mum what a good fuck you are?
I shoved such thoughts from my mind and found your lovely lips again. I squirmed mine against them and pushed my tongue deep inside your mouth. Your tongue found mine and pushed back against it. Your teeth found the tip of my tongue and you gently bit it. As I fucked you with slow, rhythmical thrusts of my cock so we also fucked each other's mouth with our tongues and lips. We seemed to be in perfect unison, far more so than with the other three or four girls and two or three massage parlour hookers I'd been with in the past. As I thrust forward so you seemed to sink into the bed a little and then, as I started to withdraw so you surged your body forward.
The pace started to quicken. I was now surging deeper and deeper into you more and more quickly. You met me all the way. You matched every surge of mine, every thrust and every squirm with a similar movement of yours.
Our mouths kept slipping apart as we gasped for air and moaned, grunted, groaned and sighed. I was grinding my chest against your tits, running my hands all over your body and squeezing and pinching your smooth, pliant flesh. My mind was lost in the euphoria of making love tyo the woman I loved and wanted so much.
It took so little for you to take me near to an orgasm; I was there almost as soon as you started to pump faster and deeper. So few thrusts, so few moans and groans in my ear and so few caresses of your hands on my sides, back and bum, were needed. I momentarily felt a little embarrassed at how quickly that happened, but then as I have aged that, oddly is often the case my first time with a new man. I guess cumming too quickly is forgiveable when having sex with your son, particularly for the first time. And then my emotions simply erupted?
By any standard it was an enormous climax. By all my previous experiences it was a massive orgasm. I may have fainted, I could have screamed, I might have passed out, I just don't know so extreme were the sensations. My arms were round your neck probably too tightly pulling your wide open mouth against mine, our tongues were fucking the other's mouth, my legs were open, drawn up and bent at the knees; I wrapped them round your waist to give you deeper and easier access to my furthest insides. I wanted your glorious cock as far in me as you could get it, right up me, deeply in me. I wanted this to be the most amazing fuck you had ever had; it certainly was mine.