Nora in the Sun Pt. 09

Chapter 18

I woke up, thinking that somehow I was back in the states and that I was still living in my parent's house. The smell of bacon and eggs floated into my room, and I felt myself drawn out, my hangover barely manageable, the bright light coming from the sea my only clue as to where I was. I collapsed into a chair, my head throbbing, as I made out my mom in a fresh, heavy bathrobe, her hair still wet from the shower, her lovely hips encapsulated in the thick cotton of her robe.

"Morning, sunshine," she said, pushing a full plate my way. I chowed down with an insatiable vigor, relishing my mother's cooking as if it had been the first time in years I had appreciated it.

Dad came down shortly after I got started, partially dressed, almost as hung over as we were. "Wow! Breakfast is ready, my wife is fresh and sexy, and my son's out of bed with the sunrise? Where was all this five years ago?" His joke completely fell flat. Mom rolled her eyes and pushed a plate his way.

Dad started on a tangent about how his work was calling him again, and how the firm was practically begging him to come back. "I'm strongly considering it," he said between mouthfuls.

Mom looked at me as dad went on about how badly they wanted him to leave the vacation. Her eyes explained to me that if dad was gone, we'd have the house to ourselves.

"Of course," dad said, mouth full, "there's only a few days left in the vacation. It's not like I would make that much of a difference by getting up there early."

Mom's look faded into disappointment as dad settled into that train of thought. "What's your plan then?" I noted her use of the phrase, 'your plan' versus a phrase that included the rest of the family. "You can't day drink every day. Unless you can."

"I think I will," said dad wistfully, licking his lips. "I'm going to make today about food and booze. Again."

"Wonderful," said mom.

Dad stood up, cruising by her. His hands went up and around her shoulders. Mom's eyebrows went up as she subtly extricated herself from them, while dad went on, entirely unaware. "And we'll have to have some quality time when I get back, just you and me." he said. "I've been getting jealous of all the time you and Brett have been spending."

Mom's eyes met mine and she gave a subtle grin.

I returned it as dad stepped out. The front door closed with a bang and mom's smile dropped as she started thinking.

"Your father is going to have ideas now," mom's lips pressed together, soft. "I don't know if I'm looking forward to it."

"Just tell him no," I suggested. "It's not like you guys have fucked a single time since we all got here."

"No, I guess I kept that reserved for my son." Mom gave a small laugh. "But regardless, it's going to be annoying trying to fend him off. I'll have to figure something out. At some point. But until then," her eyes looked to mine and her lids dropped. Mom smiled as she sauntered over toward the front door. She looked through a window as dad stepped into a taxi and disappeared toward Chetumal. "That's going to put him out of here for ages. And do you know what that means, Brett?"

My cock stood at attention in my pants. "Of course."

"Take off your pants, baby," mom said with a mischievous smile. "I want to taste my baby's cock for hours."

I tore off my shirt and my pants and moved over to mom, who had already made it to the couch. I grabbed at her robe and she fought me gently, giggling as I pulled at the edges and freed her breasts. The robe unfurled, and her ample flesh was mine to see, her heavy breasts and her wide hips on full display. She fell across the couch and pulled me close, our lips connecting, and we started to kiss together as we realized fully that we had the house to ourselves completely for the day, and there was no way dad would even want to come back before getting as drunk as possible.

It occurred to me again that my own mother was naked for me, all of her on full display. Her teats pressed against my chest, the same teats I sucked on when I was born. Her lips that smooched me when I cried were nibbling on my mouth, her tongue that scolded me was now licking into my mouth and tasting it -- and the taste of my own mother was in my mouth. If any of my friends knew it would be a disaster of disgust -- and jealousy.

Mom spread her legs and took my hair in her hands. This was the first time I had really seen her spread herself in any amount of light -- her pussy already glistened a light, cherry shade of pink. She looked delicious and wet already, and I leaned down, licking down her tummy, settling my shoulder between her thighs, dipping my tongue between her lips to get a taste of her nectar, and as I took in the sour penny taste between her lips she moaned and pulled my head closer into her.

I guided myself onto the couch the opposite way as her, moving my cock toward her mouth while I wrapped my arms around her legs and grabbed her ass as leverage. We were sixty-nineing, and her hot, lovely lips wrapped around my cock. She started to suck, her tongue swirling around my head as she bobbed her neck back and forth, tasting me, moaning as my lips and tongue massaged her clit and between her labia, the action of her voice vibrating on my cock and sending mellow waves of pleasure through it.

I heard the television turn on -- a soap opera was starting and mom wanted to watch while she sucked on me, and I decided if there was a way to spend the day, I couldn't go wrong with pleasuring and being pleasured by my own sexy, gorgeous mother while an engrossing drama played out in a language I didn't even understand.

The pleasure was incredible, unending, and mom and I sucked and licked at each other as the episode progressed. As a family split and screamed at each other, I tongued deep within her lips, circling her clit with my fingers. As a mother tearfully explained something to a stern jury of stylish, buxom sluts, my mother jerked me off, lapping at the head of my cock.

The episode ended and another began, and we didn't show any signs of slowing. Every once in a while mom got up, her lovely ass swinging with each movement, and she would drink a full glass of water and take a few pieces of fruit from the fridge. She'd sometimes feed me a few pieces, drop a glass of water before me, and then go back to sucking on me and moving into position for me to taste her -- her cold, slick, freshly watered mouth would be a cool relief on my cock, her saliva returning as we took each other into our mouths, the heat returning as we moaned in pleasure for hours, the show progressing.

By the time we got to what seemed to be a season finale of some kind, I was impatient. My balls were starting to ache from the release being put off over and over, but ever time I started to gain any traction, mom pulled me out of her mouth and licked gently at me while I thrust aimlessly. "Oh baby," I heard mom say between my legs. "You have no idea how much fun I'm having with you."

My mouth was buried deep in her muff, but I was sure she could feel my sentiment as I licked at her deeper. My jaw was sore, my tongue felt like it would fall off, but I wanted to keep going -- her mouth was like heaven on my cock, and I wanted to cum in her throat again.

But it didn't seem like she really wanted to do that. Instead, she teased me some more, poking at my cock, occasionally wrapping a hand around it and jerking it until I grew harder, twitching, and then she would pull back.

It was driving me insane.

Eventually, I got up, pulling my cock from between her soft lips, and mom sat up on the couch to watch as I furiously stood, trying to reconcile my desire to cum and her innocent fun.

"Aw, baby," mom said, putting her legs together and covering her ample breasts with an arm. "Somebody looks frustrated."

"I want to cum."

"Baby, you don't get to cum." She watched my reaction as I twitched with fury and sexual aggression. Her eyes lowered to my throbbing manhood as she licked her lips. "Not unless you can take me."

I fell onto her, seizing her arms and pinning them to the couch. Mom fought me, actually resisting, an open mouthed smile mixing with laughs and panicked grunts as we fought. I pulled her arms up and she moved her legs together, pushing me off the couch. I moved forward again, tackling her legs, tearing them apart, pushing my hips between hers, my cock pressing forward while she quivered under me. "Are you going to fuck mommy again?" She asked, breathless. "Are you going to take mommy and make her beg you to stop fucking her?"

I couldn't control my words and bellowed, "shut the fuck up, bitch," and gave her a slap on the face, the sound echoing through the room as she looked up in shock and delight, a red mark brightening on her. Her legs weakened and I pressed forward, putting a hand around her throat, forcing myself between her legs. There was no time to think about what I had just said. My cock was hungry for her -- I was going to fuck her, to make her take all of me, and I was going to make her scream with it. "I'm going to make you take my cock, you fucking slut, and you're going to fucking love it."

My mother laughed until my hand closed around her throat and she rolled her eyes back in anticipation, saying between gasps, "oh fuck, baby, tell your mother she's a dirty slut, oh, please baby..."

My cock pressed at her soft entrance -- she was unbearably slick, the slit burning hot as I forced my way in. Her legs writhed around me as I sank in in a single thrust, and she gave a suppressed scream as I started to pound her, the sound of her hips slapping echoing through the villa. "Fucking take it, slut!"

"F-f-fuck!" She threw her head back, shuddering, unable to control the noises she started to make. She gave a sustained cry, her voice rising and falling with each fast thrust slamming her hips against the couch. She bit my shoulder, hard, moaning as my balls slapped against her butt while my cock thrust in and out of her, her cunt spasming in pleasure as I battered her insides. I felt her hips rising as she pushed herself upward on the couch -- I felt her starting to shake. She tensed up first, her mouth opening, a groan rising as she shivered uncontrollably, and then broke.

"Oh fuck, Brett, you're making mommy cum!" She screamed, actually started a scream, a musical note as her voice carried higher and higher. I pushed down lightly with my hand over her neck and she struggled against it while I dominated her.

"Cum all over your son's cock, whore!" Her cunt quivered over my cock and creamed, hot and wet juices suddenly overflowing from inside her, the newfound slipperiness allowing me to pound her faster, and faster, while her screaming kept rising. She was loud now, and I had no doubt that the sound carried through the sliding glass doors and onto the beach.

And I felt myself starting to throb -- the ache in my balls turning into a wiry tension.

"I'm gonna cum, mom!" I hissed at her, still pushing her down, still thrusting as she rolled her eyes back, half-listless with pleasure.

"Baby," she said, trying to put her sentence together as the pleasure completely overtook her. "Don't cum inside me, not yet." This was the second time she asked me -- and my cock was so pent up that I was honestly glad to release it anywhere, but the juicy feeling of mom's pussy as it clenched around my cock was pure bliss -- I didn't want to pull out. But she looked at me, her eyes sober, her face red as I held her, pinned to the couch.

"Baby," she emphasized. "I'm not ready for it yet." She put a hand on the hand I used to pin her down. She moved it, and pulled me close, brought my ear up to her lovely, soft mouth. "I want you make you cum with my thighs." I realized that it would make today almost like a reverse of last night, this time ending between her thighs.

"Alright," I said.

"You're such a good son," she whispered, lovingly touching my face as I pulled out from the slick pressure of her cunny. She got up, her naked body slick with sweat, still trembling from her orgasm. She turned away from me, put both hands on the couch, and bent over, presenting her ass to me as she stuck out her hips, similar to last night. The shape of her body was like a polished vase, a slick, hairless porcelain. Her cheeks were so lovely and white, the tan lines only accentuating how pale she was in her most private parts.

"Do you need any oil, baby?" she asked. "There's some on the counter. It's grapeseed oil," she hummed, "the best kind."

I got a large, heavy bottle from the counter and popped the cap. Mom was waving her ass back and forth while she waited for me, straightening up like an obedient kitten. "Hurry up, baby, I want to feel your cock rubbing on my pussy again."

I poured the oil into my hand, slicked it over my cock. My dick was pulsing, the head maroon, it wanted nothing more than to be buried inside her cunt that waved before me, the slick, light pink lips shifting as her hips swung up and down.

My oily hands went between her legs and lubed up her thighs. My mother sighed as my fingers slipped along her pussy lips, grazing her clit and pushing upward.

"Now do it, baby," she begged. "Use your mother's thighs to make your big, pretty cock cum." Obediently, I set myself up behind her. She stretched onto her tip toes, pulling her legs together. Her beautiful ass was so soft, so silky. I wrapped my hands around her hips and gripped her waist as I pulled myself forward. Her legs were pulled tightly together, but the oil made it slick -- I pushed myself in, feeling the soft, wet heat of my mother's skin as I pushed between her legs, the tightness of her inner thighs as good as the inside of her pussy. Mom straightened up a little more, bringing her arms up and behind her as she lovingly took hold of the back of my neck, her perky breasts pushing upward.

"Fuck my thighs, baby," she moaned. "Fuck mommy's thighs, use me to cum, baby..."

I was already so close -- I pushed in and out, the sensation less of a clench, more of a soft, slippery plush, like fucking clouds. I could feel my cock pushing out past her legs and into the cool of the living room air, and the sensation of alternating cool and slick, hot heat made me shudder. Mom moaned as my cock pushed upward, fucking between her pussy lips, the slickness of her juices blending with the grapeseed oil as my cock head rubbed against her clit. She gasped as I angled myself slightly higher, emphasizing the movement on her clit.

"Fuck, your legs feel so good, mom," I moaned as I pushed in and out, fucking along her pussy.

"I want you to cum, baby," mom whined. I felt it coming -- the surge in my balls shooting upward through my pelvis, the tension ratcheting upward. "Cum between mommy's legs, cum all over mommy's couch, okay?" I felt myself groaning as I felt it, gripping upward in my taint, my aching balls starting to clench, the cum surging up.

"Cum all over mommy's thighs," mom whined. With that, my balls let go, and I started to cum, seizing as my spunk shot out, slipping between mom's thighs as I fucked in and out, some shooting outward and onto the couch of the villa, painting it with slick white. It ran down mom's legs as I kept fucking, as mom gasped while I moaned, pumping jizz all along her hamstrings, the stickiness adding to the lubed feeling while I let go of everything inside me.

I collapsed back, sticky white still dripping from my cock onto the floor. Mom propped herself on the couch with her hands, looking back, panting. White trails of cum ran down the inside of her legs. She looked down, marveling at them. "I don't know how you make so much of this stuff, Brett," she traced her hands over it and gathered some at her fingertips. She brought it up to her mouth, watching it glisten. "Maybe it's because you're young," she opened her mouth and dabbed it on her tongue, tasting it with a look of pleasant surprise. "Much, much better than your father's."

"You like the way it tastes, slut?" I asked, confident, a big, big man.

"By the way, Brett," she said, suddenly stern. "All of this talk about sluts is very, very disrespectful. You will never, ever speak like that to your mother." Her look was serious. Extremely serious.

I felt like a kid again. Like I was about to be grounded.

"I'll let it pass this time since it was so damn fun, but rest assured," she nodded with finality, "If you call your mom a slut one more time, I'm going to ground you from this for the rest of your life."

I swallowed. I could tell she meant it.

"Okay, mom."

...

...

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Chapter 19

Mom and I slaved over the couch for about an hour, trying to get my cum stains out. Once we managed to get them nearly invisible, we went out to the beach and tanned for a bit, napping in the sun and under a thick layer of oil, occasionally dipping into the ocean for a swim. I brought out a few beers from the fridge as the sun dipped lower. Mom and I shared them while we talked about school, about girls, about what made for a good date. She gave me a list of advice about taking girls out that I couldn't help but file away as things I wanted to do for her -- to get gifts, to take her to exciting locations, to have meaningful anniversaries set up.

It was weird, talking about it with my mother since she seemed to be focused on giving me the advice for me to use on other women. But she was so lovely on the beach, her swimsuit fit her waist so perfectly, her excited, eager smile was so intoxicating and attractive. I wanted to ask her on dates, to take her dancing again, to give her little wrapped boxes and hear her squeal with delight as she would open them.

My mother was almost business-like in her talk, clearly more mature and learned than I was. As her lectures continued I slipped into a sad train of thought that maybe I really would have to use this advice to help endear me to other girls. I should have been relieved. It was normal to take out girls one's own age -- it wasn't normal to want to date my own mother, to take her dancing, to ravish her for hours afterward.

I heard mom's text chime. She looked at it hesitantly. "Oh. Your father," she explained. "He's on his way back."

"Any word on dinner?"

"He's far, far too drunk to bring home dinner." Mom rolled her eyes. "You'll have to get something from the village. I'll get the table set. Thanks, honey."

By the time I got back to the villa, dad's taxi pulled up. He practically fell out of it, slurring his words. "Good afternoon, my boy. Hope you're having a good, good, quality time with your mother." In his hand, he had a half-empty fifth of some label-less drink. I could practically smell it on him, even over the fragrant food in the bag I brought from the village.

"Mom's setting up for dinner," I said, trying to avoid him. He pulled a wad of cash from his wallet and threw it at the driver, who sullenly cursed at him under his breath.

"Your mother," said dad, trying to keep straight, "is going to put out tonight."

I laughed and stepped back as he sauntered over to the villa. "Nora!" He crashed through the front door. Mom was standing by the table, setting down some glasses. She was wearing a sun dress again, a simple white one that was longer than her others, falling just to her knees. It was simple, yet elegant. She looked like the wife of a millionaire.

"Fucking hell, Ross," mom groaned and put her hand on her head as she noticed dad making his way into the villa, bumping against the walls.

"Your husband is here," he mumbled, collapsing into a chair and bringing his bottle with him. His other hand reached out and pawed at her ass. Mom almost chuckled, lifting his hand off of her.

We ate dinner while dad tried to regale us with a story about how he almost got into a fight. Through his rapidly switching perspectives, we gathered that he was actually kicked out of another bar after getting too drunk and insulting the other patrons until the bartender could bribe him to leave, presumably with the half-empty bottle. The story took up the entire dinner -- by the time he was done, mom's eyes were practically glazed over.