Nora in the Sun Pt. 08

Chapter 16

Mom showered and changed while dad gave me a long, long talk about why, as provider, he had every right to spend his time the way he wanted to, and why if he felt like going out to day drink on the vacation he paid for, or to sleep in a random bar, he was going to, and nobody was going to stop him. I nodded after every bite of food and checked my pants nervously to make sure extra cum didn't soak through.

Unbearable minutes went by while dad went on, and on, entirely oblivious to the activities that went on right below his nose in the kitchen just minutes before. The thrill of beating my dad at a game he had no idea he was playing was... extraordinary. I felt like I was six inches taller.

I finished breakfast just as mom stepped out of the bathroom, wearing a sundress with a white bikini underneath -- she looked simply angelic, her face highlighted by her clean, dark hair. "Brett and I are going to tan," mom interrupted dad's little speech. "Aren't we, baby? After you shower?" She looked at me with a stern look that told me I wasn't going to waste too much time with my ridiculous father.

"Yeah," I nodded, "We planned on doing this since yesterday," I said, trying to make it sound natural. Mom sidled up close to me, on the opposite side of the counter from dad. Her soft hip pressed against mine. I reached over to grab her ass, and got a harsh slap on the hand instead of a handful.

Dad shrugged, letting his utensils drop as his hangover and his tiredness caught up with him. "You two do whatever. But that's what I'm trying to say here. You do whatever, I do whatever. Everyone's happy with that, right?"

"Right," mom and I said in unison while I rubbed at the newly formed stinging red mark on my wrist. Mom gave me a stern look, and mouthed, "we're going to talk." That wasn't good.

I showered off, but the afterglow and the aftermath of all the excitement almost put me to sleep in the shower. I stumbled out and got dressed, hoping I'd at least make it to the beach so that I could spend the time with mom versus letting myself collapse in the same building as my cuck dad.

It was really, really strange to think of him that way -- even if I had just come all over his wife's face. Though it was stranger to take that train of thought and to run with it -- to realize that if my dad was a cuck, what did that make me? I wasn't quite a motherfucker. All I did was cum on his wife's face and... I guess, down her throat. I felt myself tingling from the pleasure and the dominant position that gave me within the household, but it mixed with the strange new reality that the woman I was messing with was my mother. My sweet, kind mom.

I wondered when the last time was that mom let him do anything like that... if ever.

I got out of the shower, somehow erect again. My body must have awoken to the recent events and prepared itself for yet another session, but I wasn't sure if mom was going to be down for it judging by the way she slapped my hand earlier. I got my answer as I stepped out of the bathroom door.

Mom was waiting for me, leaning against the front door like a cutie in high school waiting for her date. Her sunglasses were low on her face, and she held her sunhat behind her legs with both hands. Her beautiful, pale legs were crossed, her gorgeous, ample thighs calling me to bury my face in them again.

"Good morning, baby," she said sweetly. "You ready for another day in the sun?" She pulled up one edge of her sundress, showing off the pretty white of her bikini bottom. She lowered it back down once I had gotten a thorough look, raising an eyebrow to ask for my reply.

"I guess," I shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal.

Mom frowned. "You're done spending quality time already, huh?"

I smiled and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, opening the door for her as I whispered, "I'm just joking. Come on. Let's go, sexy."

"Don't call me that. I'm still your mother," she hissed, allowing me to lead her out.

I heard dad give a half groan, half goodbye from inside. "Try to have fun," he mumbled. "Half the trip is over already, so make it all count."

That threw me for a loop. Were we half done already? But it had only been... four days. So we really were half done. Mom and I shared worried glances on the way to the beach, the reality of our quickly passing vacation hitting us square in the face.

"I didn't know we had been here for this long," said mom worriedly. "I could have sworn it was only a couple days." Her hips settled against mine while we walked. She was soft, her hips grabbable. I just wanted to lift the edge of the dress and push her against a palm, and stick myself between those lovely, firm legs and see how fast I could cum for a third time this morning.

Mom could see that I was clearly fantasizing again. "Not again, big guy." She rolled her eyes at me, twining an arm into mine as we walked. "Not after what we did this morning, which, by the way, you had me do something very, very uncomfortable."

I scratched my head, trying not to look her in the eye.

"Do you know how hard it is to breathe with a cock like yours is going down my throat?" Mom scolded me as I dipped into reverie about the image -- of the loads of cum that splashed across my mother's face, or of the sensation of her throat as she swallowed my second load. "And what's more," my reverie vanished with mom's scolding, " -- we went a lot farther this morning than we had ever planned to. Our agreement was hands, only. It wasn't mouths, and it certainly never, ever included your cum on my face or in my mouth."

"You asked for that one," I reminded her.

"I was only going along with the theme of the moment," mom blushed. "You need to take a big step back. Which is why I'm grounding you. So now, you're grounded."

I stopped walking. "...grounded?"

Mom nodded, giving her hips a subtle flick. "You crossed a line. And regardless of how..." she paused, searching for the right word. "Regardless of how... fun that line was to cross, we had it set up for a reason."

"What reason?" I challenged. "It felt good, so what's the issue?"

"Because," mom returned back, "We're related. Very, very related. We shouldn't have even been touching each other that way -- no matter how good it felt. Keeping everything to hands was for your protection and mine. For our sanity." She eyed me, now genuinely angry. "And don't talk back to me. We're going the rest of the day without touching, and it's going to get worse if I get any more attitude from you."

I closed my mouth and sulked. We made it to the path that would bring us to the secret beach. "So what does grounding mean, exactly?"

"It means you have to wait," mom flicked her dress upward again, allowing me a full glimpse of her upper thigh, of the way the bikini stretched around the creamy skin of her ass, of the fullness of the cheek. "No touching, no kissing, no feeling." Her hand grazed my chest and drifted down, before drawing away as her fingers traced at my groin. "And certainly, no cumming from you." I groaned as I realized that she was going to keep up the teasing for as long as it suited her.

"For how long?"

"Until I say," said mom, grinning. "Until then, you're going to treat me with respect. The respect your mother, who went through all this effort to raise you, deserves. You're my son, remember? You don't just get to treat me like a freshman slut in the dorms." She gave a languid sigh as we crossed out of the palm forest and onto the delicate sand of the hidden beach. "I want you to be a gentleman today. Can you do that?"

It's not like I had much of a choice. Forcing my cock down mom's throat that morning was... risky, to say the least. There were very few girls I personally knew who would have been alright with that -- and I didn't know if any of them would even admit to it even if they were.

"I deserve a nice day after letting you enjoy your mommy's face and mouth," mom reiterated with a coy smile, "don't I?"

I nodded, giving up. "Yeah. You're right. You deserve it."

"I really do, after a slutty thing like that," mom's hand flicked up my chest, and she tapped my nose with her finger. I haven't gotten a thank you, yet, either."

I rolled my eyes. Mom really was back on the parental rampage. "Thank you," I said reluctantly.

"Oh Brett," mom, laughing, pulled her summer dress over her head, revealing her luscious skin to the sun, "you are so, so welcome." She threw the dress in my face and stepped out to the sand in small, flirty steps. The bikini was especially low cut -- the bottoms were thin and skimpy. It was the kind of bikini a girl would wear as a treat to her man, but all I could do was watch.

Mom laid out her towel and laid down, bringing out the bottle of oil. "Do my back again, baby?" She asked. The thought of rubbing it all over her was so enticing.

"Of course," I replied, but mom shook her finger at me and poured it into her own hands, leaning back.

"Sorry hun, I was just messing with you. You're still grounded." She giggled and stretched out, and started to apply the oil to herself, shyly rubbing it all along her arms, over her chest, her breasts squishing down and around as she rubbed them with her silky fingers. I watched her, helpless, as she slowly pulled down one of the blooms of fabric from her breast, carefully hiding her nipple as she rubbed oil on it with her fingers. "Now go on. Go for a swim or something."

I turned and left, no longer happy with her game. "You're the worst."

"I love you, baby," she called after me, laughing at my tantrum.

We spent an hour on the beach, soaking in the sunlight, taking turns swimming in the salt water. Every time I got close to mom, she made a tisking noise and reiterated that I was grounded, and that I had to keep a solid arms length. "If you even touch me before I give permission," she threatened, clearly enjoying her newfound power, "I'm going to revoke all of this and you won't get any fun for the rest of the trip. And you'll be busy with college after this, won't you?" Her lashes bounced at me under her sunglasses. "So behave."

Sometime later, I wandered into the forest to get to the swimming hole. It didn't take long, and when I passed through the subtle entrance, the coolness of the oasis was a welcome retreat. It gave me the promise of quiet, a spot to refresh my brain, to ruminate on what exactly happened. I slipped into the watering hole and let the cold pull all the heat from my mind.

Mom came in shortly after, following after me.

"Are you mad?" She asked, relaxed, clearly not caring if I was.

"No," I replied honestly, but still feeling pent up below the waist. I supposed it was unfair of me to be even a little cold. I got more out of my mother than most boys ever could, especially in the last four hours. What reason was there to be upset?

"Do you want to talk?" Mom stepped elegantly to the pool and sat down, trailing her lovely, pale legs within it.

"Do you?"

"With my son? On our only family vacation in forever? Of course." Mom smiled at me, "Especially with the clock counting down. What, you don't think I'm only a sexy body, do you?"

"You're much more than that," I replied, and relaxed. Mom wanted to spend time with me -- quality time. Real time, outside of the insanity that was our recent sexual experiment. Outside of the reality that dad seemed to ruin on the daily. Outside of the reality that we were destined to return to.

Mom was herself -- just herself, and it was almost as if I was still in high school on a weekend trying to avoid my mom's conversations for the millionth time. Except this time... she was a delight to be around. She was pretty -- she was sexy, she was reasonable and nice and fun and joke around, and she was the kind of woman that I'm sure I wanted deep down. My own mother.

It was better than any girls I went on dates with. It was better than trying to spend time in a girl's dorm, where I'd have to compete with other dudes as well as a girl's homework schedule. But mom was right here -- she was here for me, now, and she was more fuckable and lovely than any of the other girls I ever knew.

"So?" She slid down and into the water. "Tell me all about college. What's it like? Any professors you prefer? How are the parties? I want to know everything," she said, her questions innumerable, but I realized I was so happy to answer all of them.

Hours passed as we talked. My descriptions were accented by mom's comparisons to her time in university. I told her about all the girls I knew, all the reasons why I didn't really care for them. Her face pinkened when I explained to her that I didn't really like them a whole lot, and I thought she was prettier. She didn't quite respond to my explanation on why she was better company, except by smiling and touching the side of her face as I went on.

We eventually wandered out and back onto the beach, still talking. It was like we were just hanging out, kids in college, spending time on a spring break party and enjoying the sun. Mom laid down in brightness of the day, allowing the brilliant light to soak into her skin that was turning the lightest caramel under the oil. I sat next to her, just outside of the minimum distance required.

"Can I trust you, Brett?" Mom ended the subject and laid back, raising her arms above her head, exposing the lily-white undersides of her arms.

"I think so." I thought she was talking about keeping a secret.

"I need to know if I can trust you." Her head turned to me, serious. "Can I trust you, or not?"

It was weird. "You can trust me," I started. "If this is about dad, I could back you up. I know he's been really bad lately and if you want, I can talk to him and see if maybe he can relax a bit."

"It's not about your father," said mom, growing thoughtful. She let the ocean carry the silence for a few seconds while she collected her thoughts. I wondered if she was considering a divorce. If that was the case, I'd do whatever it took to support her.

"What do you need?" I asked.

My mother stretched and gave a little sigh. "I'm just thinking about putting your pretty, pretty cock inside me." She lowered her sunglasses as she looked at me. "That's all."

...

...

...

Chapter 17

"We're going to have sex?" I asked, stunned. I had no idea that this was something she was even considering.

"I don't know. But you're still grounded right now," mom said with a grin. "I haven't made up my mind when, if ever, to let you loose, but if you're willing to be a good boy, I'll let you have mommy all to yourself. At some point. Maybe." She slipped a hand between her legs and moved her palm over her pussy. "But you have to be a very, very good boy."

"Of course," I said, my mouth going dry. "You got it."

"Now let's go back before you get any ideas."

It was too late. I was getting those ideas. But mom stood up and walked back, her hips swinging with each step, her pale, thick ass calling me home. I groaned, biting my lips, trying to keep from being too obvious. I followed her, practically panting as I watched her bottom shifting underneath that skimpy bikini. It took everything in me to keep from tackling her over, tearing off her bikini, and savagely fucking her in the sand. The fantasy built up to epic proportions as we walked, but I held back. That would have grounded me forever.

We got back and saw dad still passed out on the couch. Mom gave a sigh of disgust. A sleeping pill bottle sat open by him, while he snoozed contentedly from the cushions where mom allowed me to eat her out the other night.

"He's going to be out all day, and all night," she murmured.

"So?" I asked. "What's the plan?"

"I want to go dancing," mom said without much thought. "You're going to take me."

"Sure!"

"I'm going to shower first," she said, grinning at me.

"Can I join?" I whispered, excited at the idea, wondering if somehow I could convince her to fuck while we were washing. Somehow.

"No." Her hand went up and tapped me lightly on the cheek. "You're grounded. So no touching, no seeing, no nothing. But you can use your imagination." My excitement deflated. She stepped behind the bathroom door and closed it, eyeing me mischievously. I heard the lock engage with a disappointing click.

I went to my room and tried desperately to keep my focus on my phone, or on my music, or on anything but the sound of the water running off my mother in the adjacent bathroom. I could see her arms in my mind's eye, lathering soap, pulling slippery bubbles up and down her milky sides, moving between her legs and massaging the sweet pink slit between her legs.

Agonizing minutes passed until the water turned off and I heard the lock click. I jumped up from my bed, desperate for a peek.

The door opened.

Mom wore nothing but a towel, but it wasn't even on her body.

The soft cotton was wrapped up around her head, hiding away her hair. The look accentuated her coy, innocent face and her dark eyes. Her overflowing breasts were jeweled with pink nipples, but what made her body so achingly beautiful over before were the tan lines that criss-crossed her body, that kept the flesh on her tits an achingly pale white, while creating a light caramel sheen on the rest of her. Between her legs, a white triangle where her bikini kept her covered decorated her wide hips with the sharp contrast of her pubic hair, and just below that, I could see her pussy, glowing pink, the lips of her labia seeming juicy in the light of the house.

"What happened to not being allowed to see?" I croaked. I turned back and forth between dad, passed out on the couch thanks to his pills, and back to my mother's gloriously decorated body, now imprinted and painted by the sun.

"You get to see only when I want you to see," she whispered, her hands tracing upward, pressing into her slick skin. "How does mommy look?"

"Amazing," I groaned.

"You're going to dance with me tonight?" She asked. "You're going to buy me drinks and give your mother a good time?"

"Yes," I gasped.

"Good."

She turned past me and walked up the stairs, watching my eyes track her lovely white plush cheeks. She ascended upward, the soft white of her feet drawing upward between her legs, until she arose out of sight and I mouthed a frustrated, pent up, "sexy bitch," just as she disappeared from view. Deep down, I was a little scared that she would hear or sense that I had said that with some kind of special motherly sixth sense, but she didn't come down to yell at me about it.

We made it to Chetumal by taxi shortly afterward. Mom was wearing a black mini sun dress that hiked all the way up her thighs, occasionally revealing the tight slip of her panties underneath. It barely clung to her shoulders, the tiniest straps holding the front of her dress up. As we sat in the back, she kept needing to pull the dress down over her legs, as it flashed the driver, again and again. The poor guy in the front couldn't quite hide his glances in the rear view mirror, and when we got out, I could see him wiping sweat from his forehead and talking to himself.

"Be good," mom admonished me, after she caught me looking too closely. I wasn't sure what she expected -- anyone with eyes could see what she had.

Mom chose a cantina closer to the docks -- the ocean was visible from the dance floor, but we settled into a table in a hidden alcove. Mom signaled for drinks. She was in her element -- sure and confident now, looking at me with bold glances that I wasn't used to. I'm sure she felt dominant, powerful, and I wasn't about to take it from her, not if it meant I maybe, possibly got to have her sometime later. But it occurred to me that maybe she was just letting me think a certain way.

There was no way my own mom would want to have sex with me. Right? What we were doing was so insane in and of itself. The fact that she had my cock in her mouth, the fact that I had cum on her face at her request, that she had... tasted my cum. All of this was so insane. My own mom. Tasting her son's cum. My cum.