Fucking Mum in the Hot Tub

This story has been kicking around for a little while unfinished. When I saw www.literotica.com/s/the-new-hot-tub-ch-01-1 I read this to see how similar they are. Of course there is no similarity other than mother/son incest in a hot tub so here is my version; it's another little quickie which seems to go down well with some. Please don't criticise the editing unless you make an offer to help.

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I was looking forward to taking my last exam of the year as I knew that when I left this grotty rundown building I'd be flying away, instead of driving for hours to get home.

The phone calls in April had gone something like this:

"Terry, do you remember Joan?"

"John the mechanics wife?"

"That's her; well she has this time share in Croatia."

"Yep John said."

"You do know they're not together anymore, don't you?"

"I do now."

"Well she's going out there, June eighteenth and we're invited to join them for two weeks."

"Cool. Wait, them? Who's them?"

"Her new partner."

"Gooseberries or what?"

"No she's adamant. But we'll have to share a twin room."

"No worries.

"I've found some flight details, I'll email them over."

"That's great, give her my thanks please."

Ten minutes later I was reading the email and the proverbial bit of four by two hit me. "SHIT, fucking shit." I cursed to myself.

Back on the phone, "Mum my last exam is the nineteenth, the holiday won't happen." While talking on the phone I checked for flights from Edinburgh instead of London, "No worries, I'll just come out a day later."

The exam really was the breeze I'd hoped for and within five hours of it ending, I'd flown to Pula airport and I found myself getting out of a taxi with the warmth of the sun cooking my face.

The door of the lovely house opened about three seconds after I knocked; "Hello Joan." I said.

"And you are?"

"Doh! Terry."

"Jesus you've changed, I wouldn't have recognised you."

"Sorry." We walked inside.

"No, no. The last time I saw you was years ago. You look good enough to eat. I wasn't expecting you until late tonight. Talking of which are you hungry"

"Starving."

It suddenly dawned on me I was following this gorgeous shapely, slim body clad only in a very skimpy orange bikini. The last time we'd met was probably six or seven years earlier and hadn't expected her to be so young or for that matter so good looking. John, her ex, had to be twenty years older than her and fat. I guessed she is about thirty, ten years older than me.

We went straight out to the terrace where Mum was also dressed in a bikini, BBQing some sardines.

"Hello Terry, your early, I didn't expect you for several hours yet, come on get some of those clothes off." We hugged quite a long lingering hug, typical of nine weeks absence. "That's our room, go get changed quickly, this fish is just about cooked."

I stripped naked after dropping my rucksack on a bed and Joan walked in asking; "Beer or coke?" Without batting an eyelid she stood there as I was pulling some shorts from my rucksack. "Looks like I may be having some fun after all, judging by what's happening down there."

I looked down to see I was rapidly showing my appreciation of her appearance. "Sorry Joan."

"Stop saying sorry." She turned and left the room as I clumsily untangled the liner of my swim shorts and stepped into them.

Back on the terrace I found Mum still turning sardines. "Have I got time for a dip?"

"Two lengths only." The splash drowned out any more words she may have said, I did the two lengths and hauled myself out.

A cold bottle of beer was thrust into my hand with gusto and I drank half straight down. After we'd eaten the sardines and salad with some lovely local crusty white bread and we were putting the world to rights, a breeze caught some of the paper napkins and they landed in the pool. Without thinking I jumped in to retrieve them before they made a mess, Joan had the same idea and we found ourselves in close proximity aiming for the paper. We collected all the bits and threw them to the poolside, after which I swam to the end of the pool and back, bumping into Joan.

I stood beside her and messed about for a bit, swimming round, flipping etc. "Do you know what my favourite is Joan?"

"No."

"The breast stroke."

"Go on, I'm going to regret this, aren't I? Why's that then?"

"Because it goes like this." I swam towards her showing my poor attempt at breast stroke, when I reached her I bobbed up out of the water and placing a hand on each breast, stroked them vigorously, dislodging the small triangles of cloth well out of position to expose her breasts. She pushed me away quite hard and I made a big show of jumping up out of the water to fall over backwards with a big splash.

Quick as a flash Joan grabbed my waistband and as I was flying backwards I felt my shorts slide down my legs. When I resurfaced Joan was swinging my shorts around above her head, I made a grab for them but she was too quick and threw them to the poolside but managed to get them about twenty feet from the pool. Mum sat there laughing and refused to get my shorts. "If you can't take it, don't deal it." She said and despite my pleading she still refused. I sought revenge by removing Joan's bikini and throwing the two halves as far apart as possible. If I'm honest I don't think she put too much effort into trying to stop me.

After a while we both left the pool to retrieve our swimwear and sat around drinking and chatting, it turns out Joan had a big bust up with her girlfriend a few days before they were due to fly out so there would just be the three of us here. About 10pm Joan announced she was getting chilly, switched on the hot tub and lifted the two sections of wooden cover out of the way, we sat there waiting for a light to come on before we got in, equally spaced around its seating. I promptly fell asleep and dreamt about making love with Joan.

Now the story goes along lines:

I started saying something like 'I'm going to fuck you.' And made a grab for Joan, stroking and caressing her parts until she was turned on and ready. As it turns out she had drunk more than a bottle of wine and shared a bottle of Croatian rum three ways so she was receptive and put up no objection to being fucked doggy fashion in the hot tub. I too had drunk several beers and my share of Croatian rum.

In the morning, hosting headaches of all hangovers, there was some sort of recollection of what had happened but to be honest it was a bit hazy for all of us and during the chattering we agreed that none of us really knew.

As she pottered about preparing lunch, Joan seemed quite chirpy, singing along to the radio etc and decided to take a picture of us sitting by the pool with lunch, as she started up the phones camera the smile on her face changed to a grimace then slowly back to a smile, we could hear the noise of the hot tub coming from the phone and some laughing, shrieking and moaning. "It appears I took a video last night." The video was restarted and passed to Mum and me. Our mouths dropped in shock and horror but probably more embarrassment than anything else, there in glorious fuzzy jerky detail, in the way that only a drunk person can manage to film, was Mum being royally fucked by yours truly.

Mums first response took me by surprise. "Oh you sod, I wondered why my arse was sore this morning."