Mum/Son Tease Homestay Hosts Ch. 01

I realised that a small streamlet had dribbled down me, collecting a little at the in-sole depression of my high-heels. My first instinct was to fake an innocent body movement to scratch an imaginary itch, to wipe off the trail of excitement. But, something in me cried leave it be. It felt so wrong walking around naked with illicit fluids on my leg, in the presence of J&J. I felt pleasantly deviant.

***

Part 12

Sail

J&J had a sailboat moored at Derwentwater. Since Seb and I were sailors, they invited us to use their sailboat to spend an overnight stay at the lake.

***

We sailed around the lake all day, and got back to the mooring point in the remote secluded cove at 6pm. Ours was the only sailboat there.

I cooked a small dinner. It was delightful dining on the water, under the evening sky, to the accompaniment of a background orchestra of cicadas whirring and chirping away in the embracing forest of the lake shore. Far from the madding crowd.


After dinner, Seb took a can of beer and his e-book and went topside, sitting on the deck, leaning against the mast to read, sip and watch the sunset.

With the warm winds, the slow
 rolling at anchor, a full stomach and alcohol, Seb nodded off to a heavy sleep.

It was middle twilight. I turned on the topside lights.

I emerged from the cabin and caught Seb's attention. As I walked toward the mast carrying two glasses of wine, Seb appeared to notice that I was wearing a bikini. As I came closer, he blinked. He apparently realised that it was underwear.

I had an untrimmed bush that was a full strip in the middle, with thinning hair to the sides. A bush that was nicely visible underneath a small, soft belly and between two toned legs.

A yellow see-through high-cut panty exposed my lower fluffiness. My luxuriant undergrowth peeked out of the panty gusset edges. Suitably feline and obscene.

I wore a matching, sheer quarter cup exposed bra, which ornamentally cupped the bottom of my breasts, revealing the rest of my swells in their full glory.

Music was wafting through the forward cabin porthole. Édith Piaf's La Vie En Rose, which I loved. Life in pink. So appropriate for glorious sunsets with rising sons.

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens

Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche

Voilà le portrait sans retouches

De l'homme auquel j'appartiens

Quand il me prend dans ses bras

Il me parle tout bas

Je vois la vie en rose

There was nothing more quintessentially French than the French. And the French made sure we all knew that. But, in this instance, Édith Piaf obliged.

Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose

When you kiss me heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see la vie en rose

When you press me to your heart

I'm in a world apart

A world where roses bloom

And when you speak

Angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose

And when you speak

Angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose

***


Seb stood up. I handed him the wine, grinned and enquired in my huskiest, "Like my outfit?"

"Don't you think it's a mite..."

"Economical? Oh yes! Just right for a warm evening, don't you think?"

"I love your choice of naughtiness. The exposed bra is cute and sexy. This is the first time I see you wear it. New?"

"I went lingerie shopping before our holiday. I was full of underlying good intentions. The quarter cup exposed bra is the unwholesome lesser-known cousin of the crotchless panty. I bought the contraband pair at the shop. As I was tarting up in the cabin just now, I agonised deciding whether to match the exposed bra with its soul cousin, the crotchless panty. Or with this high-cut panty. Mums often have to make difficult life decisions for their young sons. Well, here I am in illicit glory."

Continuing, gazing down, "It looks, there, like I made the right decision. Less is indeed more."



Seb appeared like he couldn't talk anymore. He just stared at my body. Perversely, the lingerie had made me more naked in his eyes. Lingerie had become so eroticised, so symbolic of that which was desired that they, in effect, often became the desire.

The single most potent sexual organ in the human body was the brain. Stimulate the brain as well as the body and you would rock the person's world far more than if you just stimulated the exact body parts. I was cooking Seb's brain.


We toasted. I drank the wine, but wasn't particularly conscious of it. My body was in lust.

I went closer to Seb, drink in
 hand, with a pleasant scent of jasmine perfume about me, eyes fixed on his burgeoning bulge. I placed an arm around his neck, lightly whispering, "Dance with me."

Holding our drinks, we danced. I pressed against Seb. He could feel my whole body shudder as I pressed my chest against him. When
 I ground my pelvis into Seb, he dramatically tossed his drink over the side, and kissed me deeply.

I gently moved Seb against the mast while I reached down to unbutton his pants. It took only a second to lose my burlesque of a bra while I had him completely naked. I lowered my panty and placed both hands on his shoulders, shoving him down on his knees. My aggression scared him a little, but he wanted to have me.

My kinky pubic hair was in his face. He started licking me down there. I ground my mound in a circular motion around his mouth.

While fingering me, he started licking my clitoris. I started to shake all over. I gripped his head, arched back a little and literally shoved his face into my crotch. After fingering my swollen clitoris, he found out that I came like a man. White gunk shot out of my lips and almost went up his nose. This was only the second time in my life that this had happened. I tried to remember the first. Incoherent memory fragments. Teen. Bro. Sailboat. Mast. Actually, masts.

I spun around, got on my hands and knees, cameled my back, then raised my buttocks toward his erect penis, looked back, "I want you this way."



"Oh mum! Doggy!"

His back up against the mast, I brought my buttocks further toward him, for him to pleasure. His thick erection found my wet vagina in no time. With a roll of hip, he was inside me.

At the first stroke, I bucked, bringing my buttocks further up, backing him flush against the mast while he pumped me. He had his hands on my hips, guiding my pushes and grinds,
 while his penis somehow made movements inside me. He made loose, sucking sounds that electrified him. I was mewing like a puss. His first ten strokes resulted in another of my contractions. I kept pressing my buttocks harder against his strokes, wedging him against the mast.

It appeared like his hot, meaty penetrations were getting more pleasurable with each new stroke. He started pushing me away a little, grinding faster, trying to initiate long strokes while warning me,
 "Mum...ah...I'm about to come..."

I jammed him harder, swiveled and ground my buttocks tightly.

He orgasmed with a joyous jolt of hot lava. He was wedged. He couldn't pull out. He shot his seed again and again deep inside me as he tried to pull out, but I slammed him, taking in every shot deep inside me. When I sensed that, at last, he had fired his last drop of semen, I gently crawled forward as his shaft exited, still erect.

***

We stretched out on the deck, talked, cuddled a little. I played with the hair on his chest. He tweaked my nipples.

"One word?"

"Virtuoso"

***

After awhile, I got up and stared down at Seb. A little eerie. He appeared a little frightened. Had mum gone demented under the full moon?

I didn't know what came over me. I pressed my kinky pubic hair against his face. I ground his face mercilessly. The thicket pricked him a little at first. A raw sensation. I had a perverse desire to grind this handsome face to pulp. Seb was in a state of blissful suffocation.

I mercifully let him come up for air. The air he inhaled was salty. A tang. It was not of the sea. But, close.

I made a movement as if to resume from where we stopped. But, I surprised Seb. Mummy was a bag of surprises tonight.

I bent forward impossibly low. I grazed, then ground, my breasts savagely on his face. He enjoyed the feel of pliant roving flesh. Flesh on flesh.

But now, I sensed that he was growing a little anxious. I was hardening. My rigid nipples were poking with steely conviction, and would shortly blind him. He closed his eyes not a moment too soon. He appeared to relish my nipples grazing his eyelids.

It was only when he captured a nipple securely between his lips in a suction vice grip that he dared open his eyes again. He gave the nubbin its due. I felt my entire being sucked into a singular point in his mouth. My nipples were so hard now, they could cut glass. He closed his eyes again even though he didn't need to.

After awhile, we got into a sort of unstated, silent dare game. As I ranged my steely buds over his face in an algorithmic motion, he would leave his eyes open, and would only close them just before my nipples ran over his eyes, as if daring me to blind him. He appeared to relish the danger.

***

We cuddled again. Seb still had his sense of sight. And he was all too keen to use it.

"I want to see you again."

"Huh? Haven't you been seeing me all evening?"

"What do you want to see?"

"Everything. To begin with."

I stood up. I posed.

"Mum, you don't understand."

"What don't I understand?"

"The cousins?"

"Huh?"

"The exposed bra. The crotchless panty."

What did I say? Less is more.

Pleased as punch, "Oh son, you're a shopper's delight."

I skipped happily below decks. I loved to shop for my son.

***

It was the first light of morning. Birdsong was in the air.

I opened my eyes. A looming phallic structure. We had fallen asleep under the mast. I gazed down. Another mast. Seb's morning wood.

I nudged Seb.

Stroking him, "Again, before we head back."

"Is there something about this mast thingy?"

I waved his morning wood, but said nothing. That was a story for another time.

We enjoyed pleasurable moments. This time in daylight, there was the bonus of exhibitionist erotic stimulus.

***

We went below decks to prepare to return to the cottage. We had to drive back to the cottage to lunch with J&J.

Seb remained naked, making no move to dress up. He seemed enthralled watching me get dressed. After I put on my bra and panty, I put on my pants, my shoes, and then my top.

"Why are you watching me like that? It's not like you've never seen me. And I'm dressing, not undressing."

"I never tire of watching a woman dressing after sex. It is as if she is a normal woman beforehand, then, I am privileged to get to see her in her sexual state, and now she is transforming back to a normal woman."

He added, "And when that woman is a mother, my mother, the abstraction is at yet another level."

"Hmmm... I'm not a normal woman in the first place. Normal women don't have hot sex with their sons, then, have their sons enthralled watching them dress up."

***

"Better start getting dressed up. We've to leave in thirty minutes."

"Should be time enough."

"For what?"

He perfunctorily gathered the three pieces of my lingerie from the clothes pile that was to be laundered. The high-cut yellow panty. The crotchless panty. The quarter cup exposed bra.

He sauntered topside. I was piqued.

Still fully naked, he appeared to be enjoying the warmth of the morning sunshine on his skin. He then proceeded to pleasure himself. He was indeed enjoying the subtle texture and nuances differences of each, in form and substance, as he used them to tease himself. And there was the vivid scent too of turned soil of mother earth.

Humans have five senses: touch, sight, smell, taste, hearing. How many were operating on my son now? Touch, sight, smell. Maybe taste too?

What was that again I said about lingerie? Lingerie had become so eroticised, so symbolic of that which was desired that they, in effect, often became the desire. I wondered what was the percentage of global lingerie sales of velvety stuff sold but never worn.

Seb saw me. I smirked and shook my head in mock disapproval.

My son was a shopper's delight. I loved to shop for my son. I went back below decks, and made a mental note to use the double wash cycle on the laundry machine back at the cottage. I wondered what J&J would be thinking when they saw our laundry on the clothesline?

***

Part 13

Secrets

That night back at the cottage. We were on the bed in a languid 69 position. But, we were not sixty-nining.

I was on top lying on Seb. My right face cheek resting on his upper thigh, studying his male structure and texture up close.

At the other end, my mound was resting on his right face cheek. He was similarly contemplating my feminity.

I took in the musky, almost gamey scent.

"Do you like what you smell?"

"Yes. Freshly cut raw onion. Crisp. Piquant. I wish I can bottle a little of it."

Bedroom banter.

"I'm piqued. What's with the heated animation at the mast? I sense that there was something more going on."

"Hmmm... I think it's best I don't say. It was all so very long ago. So distant."

Sounding hurt, "Mum, you owe it to me. I helped you relive that experience twice over, whatever that was."

"It's dark. And it involves other people."

"I'm no gossip. My lips are hermetically sealed."

"I know that. I trust you unconditionally. It's a moral consideration of whether I should share deep secrets which involve other people besides myself."

We were silent for the longest time. Let the silence process itself. I closed my eyes, pondering. Secrets were most compelling at the moment just before they stopped being secrets.

I opened my eyes. As we were still in our 69, his sensitive little eye-slit was in my face. I couldn't help but squeeze him. A pearly drop of arousal bubbled out of the tip.

"We had a family daysailer, much like J&J's 32-footer. My family sailed to Saint Michael's Mount. My mum and dad, that is, your grandparents. My bro, that is your uncle. I think I was nineteen then, my bro eighteen. We were moored at Mount's Bay that night."

I paused.

"It was 2 am. I couldn't sleep for some reason. I heard mewing topside. I thought it must be our puss, Zoe, ranging the deck. Zoe had failing eyesight, poor thing. I was worried that she'll fall overboard and drown. I went topside, quietly, to not wake anyone."

I paused, as if deciding seriously whether to continue. Partially that I was conflicted. But also with wicked intention to torment Seb. His ebb was now flow.

Bated breath, "Go on."

"It was mum mewing."

"What?"

"She was in a doggy position. She wedged dad against the mast. It was a sight. It was so intense. Dad roughhoused mum, and then kissed her ever so gently, confusing her into whimpering submission. And then roughed her up all over again. They appeared to enjoy this cycle of tumult. This went on until mum collapsed. As she went down, she caught a fleeting glimpse of me."

Seb appeared to process my account.

"Well, that wasn't so very scandalous. A hubby and wife in passionate animated lovemaking. Aside from your spying bit. You were not the first, and certainly wouldn't be the last child in the world to witness parental lovemaking."

"There was more..."

"What? A repeat of the passion the next night?"

"Yes and no..."

"Huh?"

"On the second night, I heard the mewing again. Again, 2 am. This time, I kind of knew it wasn't Zoe. I went topside."

I paused. This time, I was really agonising whether I should carry on. We were silent for a full five minutes.

"Mum, you're all wet. My cheek is wet. I know you want to tell it..."

"It was the same scene as the night before. Only more vigorous. A little violent. It was a bit frightening. I watched the blurred flurry of action till the end. I was about to sneak below decks when dad turned in my direction and saw me momentarily."

I paused.

"It wasn't dad. It was my bro."

I paused.

Hesitantly, "I was back in my bed feigning heavy sleep. The room partitions were mere wood laminates. I heard mum getting into bed in the next room. Dad asked, "How was it?" Mum said nothing. Then, dad said, "That's alot of him in you."

"Oh mum, this is so hot. I didn't know... Thanks for sharing this intimacy."

I smirked, "There is more..."

"What?"

"It's getting late. We had a long day. You're a... growing lad. You need your beauty sleep. We'll continue tomorrow."

"Don't you dare leave me high and dry, Mum!"

"The third night. Again, I heard mewing. But, it sounded a bit different this time. Gentler. I glanced at my watch. 2 am. I was really piqued."

I paused. We were still in 69. Seb twitched, slapping my nose gently.

"I crept up topside. But, only Zoe was there, mewing, under the mast. I was a tad deflated. Like I had arrived at a rock concert and the place was deserted. I kneeled down to pat the puss to console myself."

I paused.

"I was startled by a nudge on my shoulder. My bro. He pressed himself ramrod upright against the mast. I saw the fire of excitement in his eyes..."

I decided to say no more and let Seb finish the story with his imagination. There was a sort of symmetry to the story.

"As I collapsed like a rag doll, I caught a fleeting glimpse of mum in the shadows. My god, how long had she been there? Then, another thought struck me. Did my bro mistake me for mum?"

The persistent memory of that poignant experience made strenuous demands on my mind's eye. Sharing the experience with Seb, pleasurable in itself, somehow lightened that burden.

"Is there a final part to the story?"

I said nothing. A gasp. I took a peek. This time, the white gunk went up his nose.

My son inhaled my answer.

***

Part 14

Last Night

We were in the privacy our bedroom. Perversely, it felt a little strange not to have an audience. Like some essential ingredient was missing from the preparation. Maybe Seb and I should just invite J&J in and install them in the dark corner of the room?

Oh my god! Had I become a demented exhibitionist in just two weeks?

I felt rising stirrings in my loins. I thought I heard music wafting in the night air. A single violin in the shadows playing one long note of longing. A curious mix of tingle, itch and ache. Seb nudged me to the bed as if it was way past my bedtime and he had to put mummy to bed.

I veered away to the writing desk. "Here"

He looked puzzled. And then he understood all too well.

We faced each other. He pinned me to the desk. My palms pressed backwards on the desk top in support. A son engaging his mum this way was a little awkward. I turned my face away from him.

I felt a hard pressure on my stomach just above my pubis. I looked down. I had never seen him so massive. Formidable. It was red and raw. Almost saignant. He stood so close to me. It pressed deeply into my naked stomach and he seemed oblivious to it.

I felt his throbbing on my stomach. It was his heartbeat. I was feeling his heartbeat transmitted through his penis. His heart was racing too just like mine.

I wondered if my son was sexually enchanted by the tingle of the taboo, or my nakedness, or both?

I asked myself the same. Taboo it was. There were legions of naked male bodies. But, I had only one son. One Seb.

He stepped closer, pressing his penis harder against me.

I put a hand on him. I caressed him gently. Not that he needed priming.

I turned around from where I stood. I turned my back to him, cameled my back.

I remembered the figure drawing art classes in school. Seb looked at the inviting arc before him. Arranged according to the laws of pictorial sensual art.