A Holiday with Mother

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David and his widowed mother take a holiday in the sun.
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David's mother was still comparatively young when his father died. Not even 50. But looking after her husband for the final few months of his life had taken some of the stuffing out of her.

'I think you need a bit of a break,' David told his mother when he dropped in for his customary mid-week supper with her.

'A bit of a break?'

'A change of scenery.'

His mother glanced out through the French doors that led out onto the terrace and small garden beyond. It was still winter and most of the plants had yet to rouse from their hibernation. But it would soon be spring. 'What sort of a change of scenery?'

'I don't know. Perhaps a secluded beach. White sand. Sunshine. The whole nine yards.'

His mother laughed. 'And what would I do with a secluded beach?'

'You wouldn't have to do anything -- if you didn't want to,' David said.

'I can do nothing here,' his mother said.

'Yes. But on a nice secluded beach, you could do nothing with your shirt off. You could just lie back and soak up the sun.'

His mother laughed again. 'Taking my shirt off. I think I'm getting too old for that sort of thing,' she said.

'Rubbish,' David told her.

* * *

Later that evening, after David had left, his mother prepared for bed, standing in front of her dressing mirror in her bra and knickers. She tried to look at herself objectively. She tried to see herself as someone else might see her. She wasn't going to be mistaken for a woman in her 20s. But then she wasn't in her 20s anymore. She was in her late 40s. She would soon be 50. But she was a trim soon-to-be-50.

She unfastened her bra, leaned forward slightly, lifted her bra, and let her breasts fall out. Her breasts had filled out slightly over the years. And they now drooped slightly. But they were still rather attractive. Perhaps her son's suggestion was not so silly after all. Perhaps she could lie back in a chair on a secluded beach with her shirt off.

And then she lowered her knickers. Just a little bit at first. Just enough to reveal her fur-covered pubic mound. And then she pushed her knickers lower. Her husband, David's father, had liked her with 'hair down there'. Not bushy. Trimmed. But definitely not shaved. 'It's probably time that I got the clippers out again,' she said to herself. And then she said 'Cunt'. Just quietly. Just softly. And she smiled.

* * *

That night, David's mother dreamed that she was at a beach. It wasn't the secluded beach that David had talked about. It was more like one of the south coast beaches. Brighton perhaps. Or it might have been Barry Island. Anyway, David's mother was about to walk into a café when a woman carrying a stack of menus stopped her.

'You're wearing a shirt,' the woman said.

'Yes. Is that not permitted?' David's mother asked.

'It's entirely up to you,' the woman said with a smile. 'But if you are going to wear a shirt, you'll need to remove your knickers.'

'But I'm going to meet my son,' David's mother said.

'Nice,' the woman with the menus said. 'Your son is a lucky boy.'

* * *

It was about lunchtime on Friday that David phoned. 'I'm sending you some links,' he said. 'See what you think. Cranberry Cove looks pretty nice.'

'Cranberry Cove?'

'Yes. It's a bit off the beaten track, but it looks very private. And it's adults only. There won't be any noisy kids.'

'I don't understand,' his mother said.

'For a bit of a getaway. A change of scenery,' David said.

'Oh.' His mother laughed.

'Hopefully, the week after next,' David said. 'Check out the links. I'll drop in tomorrow and we can talk about it then.'

* * *

That night, David's mother dreamed that she was at another beach. It was only a small beach and there about half a dozen semi-screened-off areas. Each screened-off area had two or three people enjoying the sun and enjoying each other. And then, almost from out of nowhere, a man dressed in only a sun hat and carrying a tray came up to her. 'Can I get you something?' he said.

'I'm looking for my son,' David's mother said.

'Your son? Oh, yes. The pink and blue screen,' the waiter said.

The screen was in a U-shape. Open to the sea. 'I couldn't find you,' David's mother said. And then she realised that her son was lying back on the sun lounger, slowly masturbating.

'Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean ....'

'That's all right,' David said. 'Come and sit beside me. The sunshine is quite conducive to edging.'

'Edging? Oh... yes,' his mother said. 'Edging. Your father talked of edging.' And then she woke up.

* * *

When David arrived on Saturday, he was carrying a chilled bottle of wine.

'Gosh. Wine at lunchtime,' his mother said.

'Wine at lunchtime,' David said. 'I thought it might help us to decide where to go if we were already in the holiday mood. So... did you check out the links?'

His mother nodded.

'And...?'

'That Cranberry Cove place does look very nice. But... well... it says clothing optional.'

'Yes,' David said. 'You can choose to be dressed or not. It's entirely up to you.'

His mother laughed. Nervously. 'But even if I'm dressed, there may still be others who aren't. If you see what I mean. Or am I mis-reading this?'

And then it was David's turn to laugh. 'I'm sure you'll cope, Mother,' he said. 'After the first half hour or so, you probably won't even notice that some of the people are naked.'

'Will you...?'

'Will I what?' David asked.

'Well... get naked.'

'I expect so,' David said. 'Unless it's unexpectedly cold. Which I don't expect it will be. Not according to their website. But it shouldn't be too hot either.'

His mother frowned.

'It's not as if you've never seen me naked before, Mother.'

'Well... no... but.... Well....'

David topped up their wine glasses.

By the time that they were nearing the end of the wine, David's mother had stopped worrying about were they or were they not going, and she had moved on to worrying about what she was going to wear. 'I don't really have too much summery stuff,' she said.

'You won't need much,' David told her. 'A pair of shorts. A couple of T-shirts. A couple of sun dresses. Perhaps a cocktail number for the evenings. That's about it.'

'I not sure if I even have that,' his mother said.

'Let's go and look in your wardrobe,' David said. And, before his mother knew it, she was being hustled off to her bedroom.

David selected four dresses from his mother's wardrobe and lay them on the bed. 'Let's start with this one,' he said. And he handed the first dress to his mother.

'What am I to do?' his mother asked.

'Slip it on,' David said. 'Just pretend that I'm not here.'

His mother laughed. 'Easy for you to say,' she said. But she took off her jeans and sweater and slipped on the dress anyway.

'Well, that looks all right,' David said. 'In fact it looks quite sexy.'

'Stop it,' his mother said.

'Come on,' David said. 'Next one.' And he handed his mother the next dress.

* * *

When David and his mother arrived at Cranberry Cove, a week or so later, the hotel looked, from the road, like any other non-descript building. An office, perhaps. Or even a warehouse. And then they went inside, and things took on a whole different complexion.

'Welcome to Cranberry Cove, where the choice of wild or mild, or anywhere in between, is entirely yours,' the receptionist said.

David's mother was a little surprised that they were sharing a room. 'Oh. We're sharing,' she said, when the bellboy had left them to it. 'I didn't realise.'

'I thought it made sense,' David said. 'And we each have our own bed.' And he smiled.

They unpacked and changed into shorts and T-shirts. David's mother went into the spacious bathroom to change. David waited until his mother returned and then got changed right there, in their shared room. And then they headed off to explore what would be their playground for the next few days.

'First, I think we need a drink,' David said, as they approached the poolside bar. 'Replace some of the fluids lost in flying.'

It was only three in the afternoon. And David's mother was not a daytime drinker. 'It's only...,' she started to say. 'But, OK. Yes. Why not? Just a small one though.'

'Hello, folks,' the bare-chested barman said. 'Just arrived?'

'Just arrived,' David confirmed.

'Welcome to Cranberry Cove. Is this your first time?'

'It is,' David said.

'In that case,' the barman said, 'I should just explain that the glassware is actually plasticware. Not because we are mean. Far from it. But because plastic bounces and glass doesn't.' And he laughed. 'Oh... and the bar here, and everywhere between here and the sea, is clothing optional. But we do ask that guests wear something light and comfortable when they dine in the restaurant. Now... what will it be?'

'What would you suggest?' David asked.

'Since it's your first time, how about a couple of our signature cocktails? The CC Rider. CC for Cranberry Cove, and Rider because after a couple of these you'll be ready to ride anything and anyone.' And he laughed again.

The drinks were excellent: icy-cold, refreshing, with a kick that only showed up after the third or fourth sip.

'Gosh,' David's mother said.

'Gosh?'

'Gosh,' she repeated.

* * *

With the ice broken by the CC Riders, David suggested that he and his mother take a stroll along the beach. His mother didn't say no. She didn't even seem to disturbed that at least half of the other guests on the beach were stark naked.

David took his T-shirt off. 'You should take your T-shirt off,' he told his mother. 'This sun is very nice.'

His mother laughed. 'It's a bit different for you,' she said.

'It's not as if you'll be the only woman with her tits out,' David said.

His mother laughed again.

And then David paused and took his shorts off. 'Give it a go,' he said to his mother. 'It feels great.'

'I'm nearly fifty,' she said.

* * *

When they returned to their shared room, David phoned ahead to the restaurant and reserved a table out on the terrace. 'We should probably dine early,' David told his mother. 'It's already later than you think.'

David's mother frowned.

'Flying west,' David explained.

* * *

The food at the restaurant was excellent. Light. Tasty. And beautifully presented. Or perhaps it was simply that they were both in the mood. And the bottle of dry, minerally, delicately-fruited Provencal rosé was the perfect accompaniment. It was almost like being on a date, David thought.

* * *

'What would you like to do now?' David asked his mother when they got back to their room.

'I think that I might be ready for bed,' his mother said.

'We could do that,' David said.

'We?' his mother said with just a hint of panic in her voice.

'It's been a long day,' David told her.

'Oh. Yes,' she said. 'Yes. I see what you mean.' And she went and fossicked in 'her' drawer. 'I can't find my nightdress,' she said, after a while.

'Oh? Can you not? Perhaps you forgot to pack it,' David said.

'No. I definitely remember packing it,' his mother said.

David smiled. He could have said: 'Yes. You packed it. And I unpacked it.' But he didn't. 'It won't be cold,' he said.

'No. But I need something,' his mother said.

'Perhaps a T-shirt?' David said.

'I think they may all be a bit... well... short.'

'Perhaps one of mine,' David suggested.

When David's mother emerged from the bathroom, she was wrapped in one of the resort's three-quarter length bathrobes.

'How is the T-shirt?' David asked.

'It's a bit short,' his mother said. 'But probably better than nothing.'

'Let's have a look,' David said and, without waiting for an invitation, he untied the tie on his mother's bathrobe. The T-shirt barely covered her freshly trimmed snatch thatch. 'Oh, that's fine,' David said. And he gave his mother a hug and kissed her, lovingly, on both cheeks.

David's mother scurried to get into bed and David headed for the bathroom. When he returned, he was stark naked -- as he had been on the beach. This time, his mother had her eyes closed.

* * *

David fell asleep almost immediately. The next time that he opened his eyes, it was just after three. He had been dreaming. He couldn't remember the details of his dream, but it had been a deliciously creamy, sexy dream. And his cock was only partially satisfied.

For a while, David lay there on his back trying to recall his dream, trying to recapture the erotic magic. But it wouldn't return. So he pushed the light bedcover down and began stroking his cock. Just slowly. He thought about his mother in the next bed and wondered if she too was awake. His cock grew longer, stronger, fatter.

Whether David had woken his mother or his mother had woken him was impossible to say. The room was not totally dark and, when David's mother opened her eyes, she could see her son, with the bedcover pushed down, masturbating. It reminded her of her husband, David's father. He had enjoyed masturbating if he woke up in the night. And, sometimes, David's mother would join him. Not always. But sometimes.

David's mother lay on her side, watching her son. Yes. Like father, like son. And her fingers slowly, quietly, found their way to their destination.

* * *

The following morning, when David's mother returned from her shower, she was wearing one of her sundresses. And she was not wearing a bra. That had to be a good sign, David thought. The holiday atmosphere was beginning to have the desired effect.

* * *

'We should probably go and find a spot of breakfast,' David said. 'And then perhaps we could take our books and visit the beach. Practice doing nothing.'

'You're quite keen on this doing nothing, aren't you?' his mother said.

'With all of the things that you have been doing lately,' David said, 'I think doing nothing is the least we can do.' And he laughed.

His mother frowned. But then she at least smiled. 'You're probably right,' she said. 'You sometimes are.'

'Only sometimes?'

* * *

David and his mother had some breakfast (fresh fruit and cereal, accompanied by a couple of Bloody Marys -- 'We're on holiday,' David said), and then they headed down to the beach and claimed a couple of vacant sun loungers.

David removed his shirt. His mother pulled up the hem of her cotton sundress almost to the tops of her pale thighs. And then, after about half an hour, David got up and removed his shorts. 'Are you going to take your frock off?' David asked.

His mother laughed. 'Don't be silly,' she said.

'You're the only person on the beach who is still dressed,' David said, gesturing to the people around them.

'They don't want to see me,' David's mother said.

'That's OK. If they don't want to see you, they won't look,' David said.

David returned to his book.

For five minutes or so, his mother just looked out at the ocean. And then she sort of wriggled her way out of the top half of her sundress and pushed it down to her waist.

'Better?' David said without looking at her.

'I think that man over there is looking at my boobs,' his mother said.

'He's probably wondering why you don't take your frock off completely,' David said.

'Well... he'll be wondering for a while yet,' she said.

* * *

David and his mother remained on the beach until about one o'clock, and then they returned to their room for a nap.

'Are you going to get dressed?' David's mother asked. (David had walked back from the beach wearing just his straw hat and carrying his shorts and T-shirt.)

'I don't think so,' David said. 'The question is: are you going to get undressed? I think you'll find it's much more comfortable naked.'

'You're just being silly,' his mother said. 'I'm almost fifty. And I'm your mother.'

'Give it a try,' David said. 'I think you'll like it. There's a time and a place for wearing clothes. And this is not one of them.'

His mother smiled, nervously, and went off to the bathroom. When she returned, five or so minutes later, she was wearing just a pair of knickers. Yes, the holiday atmosphere was beginning to have the desired effect. But David decided to push it a little further anyway. 'You don't really need the knickers either,' he said. 'Clothing optional means all clothing is optional. And you can put your knickers back on when we go for supper.'

'I should hope so,' his mother said.

'Go on,' David said. 'Give it a go.'

For a moment or two, his mother hesitated. Would she or wouldn't she? And then she did. 'There,' she said. And she instinctively covered her freshly-trimmed pubic mound with her hand. 'Are you happy now?'

'Doesn't that feel good?' David said.

'I'm going to have that nap now,' his mother said.

* * *

As David's mother lay on her bed, beneath the slowly turning fan, she began to worry that she had allowed David to talk her into doing something which she really did not want to do. Without her son 'taking charge', she never would have contemplated taking a holiday at a place like Cranberry Cove. One look at the website and she would have said to herself: 'No. Places like that are not for me.' She would never have shared a hotel room with David. She would never have sun-bathed topless. And she would certainly never have stripped naked -- totally naked -- not even her knickers -- for an afternoon nap in a hotel room in which her son, also totally naked, with a half-hard cock (yes, that had not escaped her attention) was also taking an afternoon nap. And yet... and yet, somehow, it all felt very good.

And then David (who his mother thought was already asleep) was beside her on the bed.

'Isn't this so much better?' David said, kissing his mother's neck and fondling her breasts. 'Isn't this what you have secretly dreamed of? Just you and me. Naked.' And then David's hand was sliding down her naked body. David's mother knew where David's hand was headed. She could feel her cunt getting wet at the very thought of what was about to happen. Slowly, she spread her legs to welcome David's fingers. And then... she woke up.

'How was that?' David asked. 'A good nap?'

'What time is it?' David's mother asked.

'I'm not sure. About four, I think,' David said. 'Are you ready for a cup of tea?'

'Umm... yes. Thank you. A cup of tea would be nice. I can't believe I slept that long.'

'That's holidays for you,' David said with a smile.

* * *

'Do you still play backgammon?' David asked.

'I suppose so,' his mother said. 'At least I suppose I can still remember how. But it has been a long time.'

'Perhaps a game or two then,' David said. 'And then I have booked a table for dinner at seven. There is a band tonight. An orchestra. Dancing.'

'Your father used to like dancing,' David's mother said.

'You can teach me some fancy steps,' David told her.

'Gosh... I don't know about that,' his mother said. 'A bit like backgammon, it has been a while.'

'I expect it's like riding a bicycle,' David said.

'I'm not even sure how well I could do that anymore,' his mother said.

'You may surprise yourself,' David told her.

David's mother had already surprised herself several times since they had left home and her pocket-sized garden that was yet to awake from its winter slumber.

* * *

If the previous evening's dinner was a bit like a hot date, dinner and dancing on their second night was even better. David's mother wore the cocktail dress that she had packed. And she looked fabulous.

They began by ordering a couple of glasses of champagne.

'Gosh, I can't remember the last time I had champagne,' David's mother said.

David smiled. 'Bubbles. The ultimate party starter,' he said.

Their first glasses of champagne did not last long. 'Those flutes were barely piccolos,' David said. 'I think we'd better have another round.'

'You'll be getting me tiddly,' his mother told him.

'Help keep you light on your feet for the dancing,' David said.

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