A Holiday with My Mother

'Ok,' she replied.

So I fetched another bottle and replenished the ice bucket and we drank a glass by the pool. But it was uncomfortable sitting for long periods on the paved surround of the pool, so we went back to the pergola and sat in the shadows and sipped our wine as the warm night breeze fluttered over our wet skin, drying and cooling.

We didn't talk for a long time, and my penis relaxed into a sort of semi-erect state, like a PC going into sleep mode, I thought, looking down at it. Ready for action. The relaxation actually felt good after being rigid for so much of the day and the evening. My mother noticed too.

'Isn't my body arousing you anymore?' she said, suddenly, with a smile in her voice. 'Have you got used to seeing me naked?'

'I'm not sure I'll ever get used to that,' I replied, and as I spoke my cock stirred itself and swelled and stretched and grew to full fighting strength. 'Now look what you've done!'

'Goodness, you are on a knife edge aren't you.' She looked away into the night.

I felt a sudden urge, wine-fuelled, to say something more explicit. To gauge her reaction, to see if we were going to take things to the next level.

'It's been difficult for me the past few days,' I began. 'Being with you during the day in our swimming costumes; being naked with you in the evening. I've felt very confused.'

'Why?' she said, softly, still staring out onto the moonlit patio.

Because you're my mother and because looking at you has aroused some strong feelings in me. Inappropriate feelings. And I guess it's been obvious because I can't control my body's whatsit responses, like you said.'

'Autonomic responses,' said my mother, quietly. 'Women have them too.'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean that I have responses to you, just as you appear to have responses to me. It's just that my responses are less obvious.'

'What do you mean?' I asked again, my stomach churning with a mixture of fear and hope and desire.

'I'm sure you know perfectly well what I mean, Callum. But if you want me to spell it out for you then I will. My nipples become erect, though they're not that big so you might not notice under my bikini top. And I get very wet down below.' She said this quite matter-of-factly and I gulped and breathed in deeply. 'A couple of times,' she went on, 'I've had to go into the pool because there was a damp patch on my costume.

'And I've been masturbating a lot. Two or three times a day. Partly it's the space and the freedom. The sense of liberation; I feel like a different person when I'm down here. But it's also the sexual attraction to you, to my son.'

I was iron-hard and breathless. My stomach was turning somersaults.

'That probably sounds dreadful to your English ears. Horrible. But the attitude to incest is subtly different here, where I grew up. It's not illegal between consenting adults and there is a much greater tolerance for such practices. In England it is taboo. Full stop.'

'But we're not in England, now,' I croaked.

My mother looked at me for a long time. 'No, we're not,' she said. Then she rose and, turning to face me she mounted me smoothly, her legs straddling my thighs, her hands on my shoulders, her head above mine, looking down on me, her face in shadow.

I tilted my head to look up at her and put my hands on her hips, feeling the warmth and softness of her skin. My guts had turned to water and I could feel my heart racing.

'If this isn't right for you, now is the time to stop,' she whispered in the darkness.

'No,' I said, hoarsely, 'don't stop!'

My mother reached between her legs and I groaned as she grasped the shaft of my cock and guided the head to her pussy. I was petrified, turned to stone as she slowly lowered herself, one hand still on my shoulder, and I felt her pubic hair brush my glans and then I felt the her pressing her slit against me and I felt the heat and the liquid wetness as the head of my cock slid into my mother's cunt and she kept sinking down until she was sitting in my lap and all seven inches of my rigid meat was inside her and I could feel her muscles grip my shaft.

We were still for a few seconds, then my mother started gently riding me, giving little thrusts of her hips, pressing her vulva into my pubic bone, both hands on my shoulders, gripping me, her nails digging lightly into my flesh. I kept my hands on her hips, urging her on to ride me harder and she started a sort of circular motion with her hips, raising herself a few inches and sinking back down and forwards, pressing against me, mashing her clitoris against me, then backwards and up and then down again.

It felt like nothing I had ever experienced. The sensation of being deep inside my mother, our physical closeness, the darkness, the warm breeze that rustled the leaves on the vines. I groaned deeply with utter sexual contentment.

'How does it feel?' my mother asked and it took me a second or two to realise that she had spoken in French.

'I can't describe it,' I choked out. 'It's just heaven.'

'Heaven, yes!' she replied. 'You feel so deep inside me.'

She started riding me faster then, still gently, but rocking her hips backwards and forwards, throwing her head back and making little moaning noises, her ponytail flying about in the darkness of the pergola. Her nails dug harder into my skin and she groaned and shuddered as her orgasm washed through her and then she stopped and went limp and collapsed onto me and I held her tight and ran my hands over her bare back, feeling her warmth and the ridges of her spine.

We hugged for long seconds and then she straightened up and climbed off me and stood up.

'Come to my bed now, Callum.'

She held out her hand and I stood up and took it and we walked together into the house and into her bedroom. It was much cooler in here; her bedroom had windows on two sides and the night breeze filled the room.

I stood waiting, feeling faintly awkward as she opened all the curtains wide, letting the silver light of the moon into the darkened room. She turned to face me and took her hair band off, shaking her hair so that it fell over her shoulders in a cascade of midnight black. Then she stepped up to me so that we faced each other about a foot apart.

'Tonight, Callum, I am Sylvie, your lover.' She put her hands on each side of my face and pulled me to her, tilting her head slightly to engage our mouths. Our lips touched for the first time; hers were warm and soft and inviting and I pressed my mouth to hers in a whirl of intense arousal, my heart thumping, the air feeling heavy and viscous. She opened her mouth and I felt my mother's tongue slip between my lips and into my mouth. It was beyond erotic, and I felt weak at the knees. I could taste my mother's tongue, feel its slipperiness as it explored, touching the tip of my tongue, then retreating, inviting me to follow.

I put my arms around my mother and pulled her into a tight embrace, our mouths fastened together, my tongue now in her mouth, tasting her saliva, feeling her teeth and gums, savouring the intimacy of this contact, smelling the wine-tainted sweetness of her breath. I slid my hands down the smooth skin of her back and felt the sweep of her buttocks, the flare of her naked hips. I cupped the firm flesh and pulled her loins to me, pressing her against the hardness of my cock, feeling her rub herself against me.

As if by mutual consent, although we had said nothing, we broke the kiss and my mother turned and crawled onto the bed, slowly, languidly, her buttocks raised, the cleft between them dark and inviting. She rolled over and parted her legs in invitation, running her hands up and down the soft skin of her inner thighs. I got onto the bed with her, kneeling between her legs, supporting myself on one arm, one hand on my shaft, guiding myself to the blackness at the top of her thighs.

I found her labia by touch more than sight and rubbed my cockhead up and down the fleshy lips, feeling the wetness and the heat.

'Now!' said my mother and I pushed my cock into her, leaning down on my elbows as my erection slid into the depths of her pussy. She groaned and tilted her face to me and I kissed her lips and her cheeks and her neck and I gasped as our pelvic bones met and I was all the way inside her.

When she had sat on me, on the patio, I thought it couldn't feel any better, but that was just the entrée. Now I was going to fuck my mother, slide my penis in and out of her vagina until I had an orgasm and spurted my seed into her.

I paused, savouring the moment and my mother lay quietly beneath me, looking up at me, her eyes unreadable in the dark, her arms spread wide on the bed in supplication.

Then I started fucking her. Slowly at first, and very gently. Just coming out a couple of inches and sliding back in, my face inches from hers, smelling the scent of her arousal and the light perspiration on her skin.

Slowly, gradually, I built up the pace, coming out three or four inches and thrusting back in with a gentle firmness. My mother moaned as I thrust in and locked her legs over mine, thrusting her pelvis up to meet me, making the angle of penetration better, stimulating her clitoris. She used her hands to stroke my back and my shoulders and raked her nails lightly over my skin and I shuddered with lust.

I wanted it to last all night, to last forever, but the urge to come in my mother that first time was very strong, and my strokes built up, faster, harder, longer and mum gasped at each thrust and cried out as our pubic bones crashed together and then the feeling was starting, that tingling in the balls, growing, swelling, sweeping through me.

'I'm coming, Sylvie,' I gasped out as my climax burst open and the intensity of the feelings overwhelmed me and my world shrank to just the sensation of a cock spurting its load into a warm, tight cunt, dimly aware that my mother was calling out my name and digging her fingernails into my back and writhing beneath me.

All too soon it subsided and I gently removed myself from my mother and rolled over to lie next to her, gasping and sweating in the Mediterranean night. We lay like that for a long time, feeling our sweat cool, side by side, not moving or talking, staring at the ceiling fan, lost in our own thoughts.

My mother broke the silence.

'They say that incestuous couplings can be the most intense. That was very, very intense. For me. Thank you.'

'I can hardly believe it,' I said. 'That it's happened. And that it felt so good.' I paused. 'I suppose we need to have a conversation.'

'If you would like to talk about it, of course we can,' replied my mother. 'But not tonight. You have given me two delicious orgasms and I think that I will sleep very well tonight, despite the heat.'

She got up from the bed and walked over to the en-suite bathroom. 'If you want to stay with me tonight, Callum, I would like that very much.'

She went into the bathroom and switched on the light and I had a brief vision of her nakedness before she closed the door and I heard the sound of running water. I took the opportunity to go into my bathroom and brush my teeth and pee and I was back in my mother's bed by the time she came out of her bathroom.

She got into the bed with me and I held out my arms and she came to me and we lay naked as the moon looked in through one of the windows and bathed us in its ghostly silver light. We didn't speak, it was not the time for that. I could feel the heat of her body, her nipples pressing into my chest, her leg thrown over my legs, her bush tickling the skin of my hip. Without really doing very much my mother seemed to know exactly what turned me on and I felt myself grow hard as we lay on the bed.

I turned my face to hers and kissed her and slid my tongue into her mouth, but mum gave a little laugh and disengaged herself.

'I think you are quite insatiable. But I need my sleep. We have more than two weeks of our holiday left.'

And despite the unbelievable events of the evening, I fell asleep almost immediately and didn't wake until after six when it was cool and light in the room. I looked over at my mother, shrouded by a single sheet, her hair a black mop on the white pillow, her eyes closed, her breathing gentle and regular, and I thought I had never seen a more beautiful or desirable woman.

As I looked at her, her eyes opened and she sat up, rubbing her eyes, the sheet falling away to reveal her small, rounded breasts.

'What time is it?' she asked.

'ten past six,' I replied.

'Oh it's so fresh and cool! Let's swim!'

She got up and went out on to the patio and I followed her, my cock rising at the first sight of my mother naked in daylight, her hips swaying lightly as she walked ahead of me to the edge of the pool, where she turned around and climbed down backwards into the water, affording me a brief view of her pussy. I just jumped in, relishing the shock of the morning coolness of the water.

We splashed about playfully as the light grew stronger and the sun climbed above the roof of the villa. Then mum climbed out and stretched herself in the warm rays and smiled with pure joy and I gasped at her lithe and sleek body, dappled with water drops, her nipples erect. She sat on the edge of the pool and watched me as I swam lengths, ending up standing between her legs as she sat dangling her feet in the water.

I was hard again, had been since we walked naked out into the early morning light. Now, my face about eighteen inches from my mother's naked cunt, I was ragingly, painfully hard. I kissed her knees and her inner thighs and she leaned forward and stroked my hair.

'I think you want me again,' she said, softly. 'Maybe now is the time to have that conversation.'

I experienced a chill. Was this where my mother tells me that last night was a once-in-a-lifetime aberration? 'You go first,' I suggested, needing to hear what she had to say.

'No,' she replied, slowly. 'I think you should go first. Tell me how you feel after last night.'

'Not in the slightest sorry,' I began, defiantly. 'Or guilty. I wanted it to happen and I loved it and I want it to happen again, lots of times! I actually feel really alive this morning. I feel like all my senses are heightened.' This was laying it on a bit thick, but I wanted to express how strongly I felt. To underline my statement I kissed her inner thighs and slid a hand towards her pussy, but she put a gentle restraining hand on mine.

'I'm glad you feel that way, Callum,' she began, and my hopes soared. 'But I'm the one who should feel guilty. I was the one who suggested this trip, knowing what might happen between us.'

I was puzzled. 'You thought we might sleep together?'

My mother sighed and brushed the hair from her face. 'Yes, I thought that we might.' She paused, looking at me with her serious hazel eyes. 'I wanted it to happen.'

I gulped but said nothing.

I've been rather lonely for a long time, as you might be aware. You're father has no interest in me anymore and although I've always quite enjoyed a solitary existence, it has become rather oppressive of late and it has started to impact my mental wellbeing.'

'I'm sorry,' I said, 'I didn't know.'

'No. I didn't want to discuss it with you. The thing is, that although I probably come across as rather remote, even cold perhaps, I have a strong desire, a need, for physical intimacy. And it has been too long since I enjoyed any. More than five years in fact.

I was gobsmacked. '

'But couldn't you... you know, hook up with someone at the University?' I said, rather clumsily.

She smiled, a little ironically. 'Have a fling with a work colleague you mean? Callum, darling, you've seen the people I work with; spoken to them. They're lovely people but not for me, I'm afraid. Besides, I'm married.

'You, on the other hand, are just my type. I've thought so for years. I was terribly jealous when you married that awful girl.'

'She wasn't always awful, Mum. And besides,' I added, paraphrasing her argument, 'I'm your son.'

'Yes, and that's what was so appealing to me. That probably sounds crazy but it doesn't feel as though I'm betraying your father. And I can enjoy the emotional intimacy with you that is so important in the physical act. Oh, I knew nothing could happen between us in England; for one thing it's against the law. But out here it's different. I can be that person I was all those years ago and you and I can,' she hesitated. 'We can be like young lovers. Except I'm not so young anymore,' she finished.

'You might not be twenty anymore but let me tell you that the sight and the taste and the smell of you has the blood roaring through my veins and makes me as hard as steel. You're gorgeous, Mum. Gorgeous and very sexy.

'Call me Sylvie while we're here, darling.'

'Ok, Sylvie, would you mind opening your legs so that I can see the promised land?'

She laughed and lifted her legs out of the water and lay back on her elbows, her legs open wide, her feet on the edge of the pool, her pussy exposed in all its black-bushed glory.

I was entranced. Perhaps your own mother's cunt looks particularly enticing, I don't know. I do know that this was the most perfect pussy I'd ever seen. Her pubic hair was thick and silky, but it was trimmed into a neat bush, framing her big, loose, golden-brown labia, which were slightly parted, showing a glimpse of pink flesh inside.

I leaned over the edge of the pool and gripped my mother's thighs and buried my face in her sex. Her hair tickled my nose as I pushed my tongue into her and sucked her labia into my mouth. I tasted her wetness, part swimming pool and part her own secretions, heavy and meaty. I licked her little pearl in its fleshy hood and sucked it into my mouth and she cried out and pushed my face into her with a hand on the back of my head. I licked and sucked and guzzled my mother's juices and she gasped and groaned and called my name and said she loved me and begged me not to stop.

'I'm coming,' she groaned a couple of minutes later and I slowed down and concentrated on flicking the tip of my tongue over her clitoris and she shook as the storm blew through her nervous system. Another autonomic response, I thought fleetingly.

Afterwards she lay limply on the patio until I got out of the pool and helped her up, taking her hand and leading her towards the house, the light now full and dazzling.

'What if there's someone over the other side of the lake, with a pair of binoculars, or a telescope?' I teased her.

'I don't care if there is,' she replied. 'We're not breaking the law.'

Inside her bedroom I grabbed her and kissed her and she responded with a passion that exceeded the night before. She was wild, sucking and biting my lips, scratching my back, thrusting her loins into my erection. I was monumentally aroused. Nothing had ever come close to this, nowhere near. I grasped her buttocks and pressed her to me and kissed her neck and, lowering my head, I sucked her nipples and bit them gently so that she squealed and wriggled in my clasp.

I pushed her up against a wall and lifted her onto me, her legs wrapped around me, my cock sliding with surprising accuracy into her liquid depths. It felt hot and primal and forbidden and I thrust hard and my mother clung to me, her chin on my shoulder, her hands running over my back.

But that position is very tiring and after a couple of minutes I had to stop and let my mother down. I was gasping and short of breath.

Without a word, mum climbed onto the bed and knelt with her elbows on the bed and her bum raised and pointing at me.

'Would you like me from behind, Callum, darling?'

I knelt behind her and gripped my cock, guiding it to her slit, pushing the head in, sliding deep inside her.

'Oh that's so good!' gasped my mother.

The angle was perfect. I put my hands on her hips and thrust in and out, my cock making faint slurping noises as it slid in and out of her sopping cunt. I gripped her thighs and thrust harder, then stroked her buttocks, parting her cheeks to reveal the dark star of her anus.