A Week in Venice

Mom and I looked at each other, both red-faced from arousal. Mom said: "Shall we skip the foreplay?"

Mom lied down and I entered her and we fucked and tongue-kissed at the same time. I wanted to climax together with Mom but couldn't control myself and came within half a minute, squirting Mom full of sperm that I didn't know I had. Seeing that Mom was in dire need of an orgasm herself, I put my fingers inside her, feeling my own sperm, and licked her clitoris until she came.

I got hold of the mirror and put it under her pussy again, and we both watched my sperm dripping out of her pussy, on the mirror. Mom licked the sperm of my fingers, then took the sperm from her vagina with her index finger and licked it up, while I was lying on her thigh, watching her pussy closely. I opened her pussy with my fingers and went with my tongue deep inside her, and licked and sucked the mix of arousal fluid and sperm. The last mouthful I didn't swallow, but shared with her in a deep, sticky, salty tongue-kiss.

The next day we spent a long time in the splendid, large marble bathroom, which had a shower, bathtub, and a large mirror.

We were standing in front of the mirror. I had my arms around Mom and admired her divine body. I caressed Mom, kissed her in her neck, and stroked her hair.

"You are not human Mom. You are a goddess. Just look at you. You have descended from Mount Olympos and your name is Aphrodite."

Mom smiled, amused. "And which of my sons are you? Eros? Priapos?"

I grinned. "I guess there's where the analogy ends Mom."

I held Mom's large round tits in my hands, and played with her nipples. "I'm so jealous with you Mom. I wish I were you so I could look at myself all day."

Mom scoffed. "And carry 5 pounds of boob all day? And have periods? And have guys wolf-whistle at you all the time?"

I pondered what Mom said for a moment. "Yes, it would be worth it," I said.

"You clearly do not know what you are talking about," said Mom. "OK, my turn. Let me take a look at you."

Mom stood half behind me and looked at me in the mirror.

"Adonis," said Mom.

"You know what happened to Aphrodite and Adonis, Mom," I teased.

"Yes," said Mom, "we need to choose our analogies better."

She looked at me again. "Beautiful and perfectly proportioned," she said. "You are a work of art. The girls in college don't know what they're missing."

"They do show interest. But when they do, I don't dare to say anything, or I say something stupid. I always mess up."

Mom stroked my chest and my penis, which was getting hard. "After this vacation, there won't be any more mess-ups," she said decidedly. "I'll make sure of that."

I turned around and lifted Mom up. She held me tight while we gave each other a deep French kiss.

There was a large marble surface near the shower for soap and shampoo. I swiped the bottles on the floor and put Mom down. She opened her legs wide and we hugged and caressed and kissed each other for a long time.

"Fuck me," said Mom. And I entered Mom and we tongue-kissed and fucked slowly until we reached an Olympian orgasm together.

When we woke up the next day, I said: "I just realized that we're still in Venice. What would you say if we did a bit more sightseeing?"

"Let's do it," said Mom. She smiled. "Here we are in the most beautiful place on earth and all we do is fuck."

We went to the Gallerie dell'Accademia, the Palazzo Cavalli-Francheti and the Santa Maria of Gesuati. The weather was splendid. We held and caressed each other's hands and smiled at each other every few moments, deeply in love and boundlessly happy.

We had lunch outside at the Fondamenta Zattere Al Ponte Lungo, at the waterside, sitting next to each other and kissing every few moments. We shared an ice-cream for desert, feeding each other with the same spoon. The waiters much enjoyed seeing the romance between a mature woman and a young man. Apparently they were not noticing the kinship. (Or maybe they were, and enjoying themselves even more.)

We went back to the apartment and I asked, "Can I ask about your sex life Mom?"

"Yes," said Mom.

"How often do you and Dad have sex?"

"Well we don't see each other often as you know," said Mom. "But when we do, we have sex every night. We both love sex. And I guess the distance helps keep things exciting. We also have phone sex whenever we've got a chance."

"Phone sex, really?" I laughed. "Now I understand why there is a phone in the bedroom."

"It's a lot of fun," said Mom. "We share a sex phantasy and we touch ourselves. We make up a story together. For example we are invited to this dress ball. We are dancing in this splendid 18th century hall full of gold and mirrors and stunning women in beautiful dresses. We dance in the middle and everybody watches us as we dance and strip, and everybody else strips as well and the two of us end up having sex with everybody else watching us."

I was seeing it all before me. "O Mom," I said, "that's lovely. The two of you are real artists."

Mom smiled.

I asked: "Do you ever sleep with someone else?"

"Sometimes I sleep with Eric, the lighting guy in our crew."

I had met Eric, and I thought of him as a nice, handsome guy.

I grinned. "You have got a great taste Mom. Does Dad know?"

"Of course. It doesn't bother him too much. He also slept with someone else a few times. That doesn't bother me either."

"Do you ever watch porn?"

"I'm not really into porn. What I've seen was made in really poor taste. It turns me off if people pretend to enjoy sex. Porn is no match for my own imagination. What about you? Don't you miss the intimacy in those Penthouses?"

"I guess I do," I said. "Jerking off to a Penthouse is like going to McDonald's. It gets the job done, but you feel bad afterwards."

Mom laughed. "Why is that?"

"It's just not real. I don't know these girls, and they don't know me."

"So why do you keep watching porn?"

"Just the urge I guess. And maybe my imagination is not as good as yours."

"Hmmm," said Mom, "Maybe I can give you some memories to masturbate to."

"I'm sure you can," I laughed.

Then I asked: "Mom, do you masturbate if Dad is away?"

"Yes, a few times per day."

"What do you phantasize about if you masturbate?"

"I phantasize about many things, but there are some returning themes. I like to make up stories, I like to be watched, I like to be the center of attention, I like sex with a man and a woman." Then, softer: "And the men are usually younger than me."

"Hmmm. Have you ever fantasized about me?"

Mom blushed and didn't answer for a while. "I might have," she smiled, slightly embarrassed. "How about you?"

"A few times," I said. Mom looked at me. Then I said, softer: "Sorry Mom. Many times."

Mom gave me a long, deep kiss. "I love that. So that's why you are so good at making love to me. I wish I had known."

"What would you have done Mom?"

"I would have slept with you a thousand times and be your lover and teach you how to be confident around girls."

"But then I might be on holiday with professor McNair now," I teased.

"Or with both of us," said Mom, smiling mischievously.

I laughed. But the thought was a huge turn on."Let's see if we can picture that. Once upon a time..."

***

On the last night, after we had had sex twice, Mom asked: "What will you do when you're back on campus? Will you phantasize about me?"

"Would you mind if I did?"

Mom stroked my hair. "I would really love that."

I smiled. "I will phantasize about you every time Mom. And you? Will you phantasize about me?"

Mom smiled. "I will. Every time." And she continued: "Maybe imagining us on stage, with an audience of nude people watching us."

"Anything, Mom", I said. "It's your phantasy. You can do with me whatever you want."

"I sure will," said Mom.

Mom stroked my chest, belly and my penis. "Would you masturbate for me now? I would love to see you do it."

I didn't immediately answer.

"Sorry," said Mom, "I don't want to embarrass you. It would really turn me on. But you don't have to if you don't want to. "

"I can try," I said. "But I'm not sure if I can come again. You just sucked it all out of me."

Mom smiled. "Let's see if we can find your reserves," she said.

Mom got out of the bed and sat down at the dressing table, naked. She brushed her hair smooth. She put on her make-up, then opened her jewel case and took out her long pearl necklace, earrings and gold bracelets.

On the other side of the room there was a chaise longue. In each corner was a floor lamp. Mom arranged them in the middle of the room and switched them on.

Mom laid down on the chaise longe, checked the effects of the lights on her body, tried different poses. She got up a few times to rearrange the lamps until they were in the exact right spot. Then she laid down again, rearranged her necklace, and put her left arm under her head. She pulled up her right leg, with her right hand resting on her knee.

Mom's hair was backlit by the lamp behind the chaise longe. The lamp on her right softly accentuated her facial features and the contours of her body. She looked stunning. "Oh Mom," I whispered, "you are the most beautiful woman on earth." And I truly meant it.

Mom gave me a loving smile. She pushed her perfectly shaped breasts forward and opened her labia with her fingers, so that I could see the pink opening of her vagina. "Do it baby", she said softly. "Look at me. Give it to me."

I started masturbating while I looked all over her superb body: her smiling face, her smooth blond hair, her velvet skin, her large round tits, her dark hairy pussy. "Come my love," Mom kept whispering, "Give it to me. Look at me. Come baby."

I masturbated slowly, overwhelmed by Mom's unearthly beauty. I could tell that I was turning Mom on as well, as her face was blushing and her labia were swollen and turning moist. After ten minutes, I ejaculated. Out of habit, I pulled my foreskin up to keep the sperm inside. Mom saw it, stood up and came to me, smiling seductively. She grabbed my penis and I let go and the sperm started to flow over, but she put my penis into her mouth, and licked and sucked it and swallowed all of it, down to the last drop.

"That was so arousing Mom", I said.

Mom was blushing and lied down to me. "I'm ready for the hottest sex in history now," she said. She looked at my penis. "But it looks like you need a break."

"I can't let you down Mom, not after all you did for me," I said. "I will give you everything I have."

I helped Mom on her back, opened her legs, gently pushed my fingers inside her and started licking her clitoris. As I knew that she wanted me inside her, I concentrated on getting an erection again by arousing myself with the smell, taste and feel of her pussy, and by pumping blood towards my penis.

After a few minutes, my penis was fully erect again. Mom saw it and raised her legs so that I could enter her. I held her legs while I pushed my penis all the way inside her. She put her hands on my back while I fucked her, with slow, deep thrusts. We looked each other in the eye with intense love. Mom was building up her climax, reaching ever greater heights. She was moaning softly and every muscle in her body was contracting. "Fuck me," Mom whispered. "Fuck me. Fuck me." Then, she closed her eyes and her body spasmed violently while she reached a monstrous orgasm. "Oh God!", she cried, so loud that I could hear it echo from the marble staircase. Then, softer: "Oh God. Oh God."

I lied down next to Mom and we held each other close.

I stroked her hair and kissed her on her cheeks, her forehead and her still closed eyes. "That was so beautiful, Mom. I'm so in love with you. I love you more than I can say."

"I'm in love with you too," said Mom. "You're my great love. The love of my life."

We hugged and caressed each other for a while, and Mom said: "This was the first time that I came purely vaginally. I didn't know I could do it."

"It's so special to be with you Mom. I can never stop making love to you."

"Never ever stop," said Mom. "I'm addicted to you."

***

The next morning we checked out of the hotel. The owner looked quite bewildered, seemed completely lost for words and clumsily dropped her cashbook on the floor. Obviously she had heard the noises that we had made all week long, and knew that we were mother and son as we had told her when we checked in.

We walked to the water taxi. "That was awkward", said Mom.

"It was," I said. "Do you think she'll talk?"

"No I don't think so. She risks getting blamed for making up an outrageous incest story."

We arrived at the airport, and checked in.

The flight wasn't full, and we had enough privacy to hold hands, kiss, and talk.

"I'm going to miss you terribly," I said. "I will have to go into rehab."

Mom smiled faintly. "Not just you," she said.

"Should we tell Dad?" I asked.

"Yes", said Mom. "He will sense what is going on from a mile away. I better just tell him."

"Oh Jesus." The thought made me extremely nervous.

"He will be OK," she said.

I wasn't sure. "He'll be so disgusted and so mad."

"He won't be. Your dad can understand anything."

"You think he can understand an incestuous relationship?"

"Yes. He is an extraordinary man."

"Mom, will you please call me once you've talked to him?" I asked.

"Of course," said Mom.

"Mom, there is something else."

"What is it my love?"

"If Dad can't take it, fix things with him. You and I will always have our bond even if we can't be lovers. But you and Dad are soulmates. You must stay together."

Mom looked at me with her eyes wide open.

"Mom, do you love Dad?"

"Yes I do."

"Then fix things with him."

"You have your father's big heart," she said. "I can't believe my luck of having you both."

Dad was waiting for us at the airport. I felt sick from our betrayal. Dad sensed that something was going on, but didn't ask any questions. He gave me a big hug, took Mom home, and I went back to campus.

That night, Mom called.

"Did you talk to Dad?" I asked.

"Yes I did. He asked right away what had happened. I told him everything."

I shivered. "What did he say?"

"He was shocked at first, but then he understood. He accepts that we are lovers, and he wants us to be happy."

I was impressed and incredibly relieved. Indeed, Dad is an extraordinary man.

Dad wasn't jealous of me and Mom. When I came to see them, Mom and I would be so starved for each other that we would go to the bedroom right away and make love two or three times. After that, we would return to the living room, hand in hand, radiantly happy and fulfilled, and Dad would smile at us and ask if we had had a good time.

Mom, Dad and I kept doing all the things that we had always done together: talk about our lives, go to the gym, go to a concert, see a movie. If both Mom and Dad were at home, Dad would stay in my room at night, while I slept with Mom, and make love with her over and over again, until we were utterly exhausted. We would lie and talk and sleep naked in each other's arms, and do all the things that lovers do.

When I returned to campus, Dad would move back into the bedroom, and sleep with Mom again.

Dad hadn't just patient; he had been smart. Mom and Dad's sex life exploded. At first, Mom was embarrassed and sometimes asked if I was OK with her and Dad having sex, and I told her, truthfully, that I loved them both and that she shouldn't worry about it.

In the beginning Mom was a bit hesitant about having sex during her periods.

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

"No it doesn't," said Mom. "In fact it relieves the pain. But maybe you think it's dirty."

"Dear Mom, most beautiful of women, Goddess of Love. I adore you and I want to make love with you. How about some pain reduction therapy?"

Mom gave me a painful smile. "You clearly have no idea how bad it is. But do give me some therapy, my love. Foreplay with full penetration please."

And that's what I gave her. From then on, Mom wouldn't worry about having sex during her periods anymore.

Mom and I called each other as often as we could. But since I shared a dorm room and the phone was in the hallway, there were not many opportunities to talk intimately.

Instead, we wrote each other love letters every day. They were all quite the same: endless variations of declarations of love. And every letter would have a poem.

The day before my twenty-first birthday, Mom called to say that she had sent me a present. "Make sure that you're alone when you open it," said Mom. "It's something personal."

And indeed, a package was delivered on my birthday. I waited in my dorm room until my roommate had gone to class and I opened it. There were three photo albums. They were enormous, like half poster size.

I opened one of them and there was a nude picture of Mom. Blood rushed to my head from extreme arousal and shock. Mom was sitting on top of a black grand piano in a large oak room with antiques. She looked astonishing. She wore perfect make-up and her hair was beautifully styled, clearly the work of a professional. She was wearing high-heeled black boots and a long pearl necklace. Her right leg lied down while her left leg was pulled up; her left arm leaned on her left leg and her hand was in her hair. Her labia were swollen and moist and partly opened.

I turned the page and there was a photo of Mom's vulva, in soft focus, close up.

On the next page, there was another close-up, in which Mom pulled her pearl necklace out of her vagina.

I flipped through all three albums. There were three series of photographs; one in the antique room, the other in a bath house, and the third outdoor, in the mountains.

I ran to the phone in the hallway, after quickly checking if the dormitory was empty, which it was, and called Mom.

"Mom!" I whispered, trembling, still scared that our conversation would be overheard. "What did you do?"

"Happy birthday my love! Do you like the album?" asked Mom.

"Mom, are you sure about this?"

"Of course! It's a present from me and Dad. We wanted to give you something special for your birthday."

"But Mom, how...?"

"I called Penthouse and asked if they could arrange a professional nude series of me, for personal use. I went to a photo studio and one of their photographers made these three series. The photographer was great. I think these are the best photos ever made of me."

She giggled. "They tried really hard to convince me to allow them to publish the photos in Penthouse Magazine. They offered a lot of money. But I didn't want to. I want only one guy to masturbate to these photos and that is you."

"Oh my God," I whispered. "They must have cost you a fortune."

"They did," said Mom. "But I thought it was better to make these pictures while I'm still pretty. And Dad was feeling bad for you because you can't make love with me as often as you'd like."

"Aren't you afraid that the photos will be published anyway?" I asked.

"No. Our attorney set up a contract, and they have to pay us compensation if these photos are ever published. Enough for us to retire instantly."

"Your attorney! Jeanette? So she also knows about these pictures?"

"Yes. But she doesn't know they're for you. She thinks they're for Dad. And she can't talk anyway. Attorney-client privilege. But you still haven't told me if you like the photos."

"You are so beautiful in these pictures Mom. It's a lovely gift. The best gift I've ever had -- apart from having you in Venice."

"I was thinking of you all the time when the photos were taken. Will you masturbate to them?" asked Mom.

"Yes Mom, always," I said. "I always think of you. Nobody but you."

"Me too, love," she said. "it's always you." She giggled. "The idea of you masturbating to my pictures is very arousing. I think I need to do something now."