The Magic of Pirates Cove

It hit Brianna hard when, after twenty years of marriage, she was deserted by her husband John, who left her for a woman twelve years his junior. She believed she'd given everything she could to the marriage and felt a bit like a boxer who, having landed his most powerful punch, finds his opponent is unaffected. She had suspected nothing, even when John's libido seemed to go into decline. "What more could I have given?" she wondered.

She was so shaken by John deserting her that even though at the time of the divorce she received an excellent financial settlement, anger and bitterness seemed to eat into her. There were to be no more men in her life, men were not to be trusted.

There was one exception to this resolve, her son Ross, who had been a loving supporter throughout the whole divorce process, but then, he had always been a source of love in her life.

For his part John could not understand why his father had left his mother, and for a woman who physically was almost diametrically opposite. Brianna was slender with dark hair, green eyes and in his opinion she looked at least ten years younger than her actual age, which was then thirty eight. His father's new woman was buxom with blonde hair and blue eyes, and, so it was soon discovered, pregnant.

Despite her decision to have no more men in her life, Brianna was a sexually fervid woman; having, during many years of her marriage been used to having sex every day; critics might say that she was oversexed, but that was how it was, and it was not unnatural that eventually the old demon sex came back to torment her.

Sexual deprivation can have a very deleterious effect on one such as Brianna, and this was exacerbated by the presence of a loving and very desirable nineteen year old son. The affection that had once been purely filial began to take on a new aspect; that of sexual attraction.

That attraction had been present for John ever since he had entered puberty, but believing such a relationship with his mother to be impossible it had been suppressed, but as we know, suppressed emotions have a way of coming to the surface given time, place and opportunity.

For how long Brianna had sexual feelings for Ross is unknown, but as the pressure of sexual need grew in her, her emotions became fixated on Ross, but like him she saw the impossibility of anything other than a mother and son relationship.

For Brianna understanding the impossibility was one thing, but coping with the emotions that had given rise to the impossibility was another. Living in close proximity the temptation to cross the barrier of impossibility was extremely potent, and many times, when embracing and kissing, they had come close to crossing that frontier, in fact Brianna would he been happy to cross it if Ross had taken the initiative, but he had never gone quite that far.

There were times when each privately resolved not to engage in further close physical contact, but, so it seemed, these resolutions never coincided. The result was that when the unresolved one made a physical approach the other succumbed.

Ross, so it seemed, was not quite so affected by the situation as Brianna since he resorted to other women to meet his sexual needs. However, anyone who has experienced a similar situation knows that nothing can substitute for the real object of desire.

Put simply, mother and son were in love, and such a situation could not go on indefinitely, and it started to have a debilitating effect, especially on Brianna. No amount of masturbation could assuage her need for Ross; she lost her appetite, her complexion paled and she became lethargic, and in the end, persuaded by Ross, she went to her doctor.

Her doctor was aware of Brianna's situation as a divorcee, but she was unable to tell him the other half of her problem, namely, incestuous desire for her son. The doctor diagnosed her -- in non-technical language -- as suffering from post-divorce depression, which of course was correct, but was not the whole story.

He pointed out that it as now over twelve months since her divorce, and perhaps it was time for a break. "Take a holiday," he said, "get right away from things; go somewhere quiet for a while and you'll start to see things in a different perspective."

"I can't get away," Brianna objected, "I've got my son Ross living with me and I can't just up and leave him, he's in the middle of his studies."

The doctor knew Ross since he had treated his childhood ailments and was aware of the close bond between mother and son. It was on this basis that he made what later he might see as a bad error of judgement had he know what the outcome would be.

"He's got a vacation coming up, so why don't you take him with you, it'll be good for both of you," he said heartily.

Brianna left the doctors bearing a prescription for some anti-depressant medication and the thought that it would be a good idea to get away with Ross since neither of them had been away together since long before the divorce.

If they did go away together it would be the first time for mother and son, and she harboured the secret hope that in a different environment, away from the familiar, something might happen between them. On putting the idea to Ross she was encouraged by the enthusiasm he displayed.

"It'll be great mum, we've never been away by ourselves; dad was always with us before."

A quiver of desire stirred in Brianna; he wanted to go away with her, to be alone with her.

The question that now arose was where to go. It was Ross who came up with a suggestion.

"Do you remember that place we used to rent when I was a kid, it was at Pirates Cove?"

"Of course I remember it," Brianna replied, "the doctor said to get right away from things and that certainly is a place right away from things; you'd like to go there?"

Ross almost said, "It'll be like old times," but stopped himself just in time because his mother might not like to be reminded of old times when the three of them had been together. "The thing is mum," he said, "how would you feel about going there?"

She could scarcely think of anywhere she would rather be alone with Ross. "I'd love it, she said."

That settled it.

* * * * * * * *

It was a couple of weeks before Ross began his vacation, but in anticipation Brianna was already feeling the magic of Pirates Cove (or it might have been the medication). When they had been at the Cove in the early days of her marriage it seemed to have an aphrodisiac effect on her and John and he had taken her repeatedly, and Brianna believed that it was at the Cove that she had become pregnant with Ross.

Away from the familiar and alone in that isolated place who knew what might happen, perhaps it would have the same aphrodisiac effect for Ross -- and her.

A couple of days before they were due to leave for the cove Brianna woke early in the morning. Ross was already up and she could hear him moving about the house. Soon he would be bringing in her morning cup of tea.

She let her thoughts run on; it would be nice to wake to find him lying next to her. She remembered how in the past a love making session the night before had always left her eager for more in the morning.

She sat up and pushing the bed covers from her and putting the pillows behind her she leaned back against them. She took off her nightdress and began to appraise herself in the dressing table mirror on the other side of the room.

She still looked good, she told herself: breasts firm and not too many spare inches on her waistline; hair long and luxuriant, its lustre not yet provided by her hairdresser. She examined her stomach. "Could do with some exercise before 'loose' becomes 'fat,'" she thought, but her thighs were slim and as agreeably shaped as ever, and her pudendal cleft looked as enticing as it ever had.

"A pity such a pleasing body was not made more use of," she thought. She wondered if she should have been more sexually aggressive with Ross. She told herself, whether correctly or not, that it was he who held back, even though it was clear to Brianna that he wanted to make love with her.

Ross entered the room with her cup of tea and stopped short on seeing his mother lying naked on top of the bed. "Ser-sorry mer-mum," he stammered, "I didn't know you..."

"That's all right," Brianna said softly as she nonchalantly pulled the covers over her, adding mischievously, "I'm sure you've seen a naked woman before."

Ross put the tea on the bedside cabinet and exited hurriedly. Brianna had not failed to notice how quickly a large lump had appeared at Ross' groin.

Brianna sighed; she was sure that she could have lured Ross into her bed and his penis into her vagina. "An opportunity missed," she told her self, but she believed that Ross must come all the way to her and not her to him.

She lay thinking for while longer a smile on her lips. "When we get to the Cove," she thought, "that's when it will happen." Already the Cove was working its magic and the dark cloud under which she had lived since John had left her was starting to lift; she was feeling good about herself.

* * * * * * * *

The Cove consisted of a curving beach backed by cliffs, with a pathway leading down the cliffs to the beach. At the top of the cliffs there were a few holiday shacks widely scattered, one of which was called Tern Cottage. This was the cottage Brianna, John and Ross had spent time in, but not in recent years.

For Brianna and Ross it was like a homecoming, or like meeting an old friend. Once they had settled in the Cove seemed to work what Brianna thought of as its enchantment on her. This my have been due to the ambiance of the place and the fresh sea air, but whatever the cause, Brianna felt as if the dark cloud that had hung over her since John left her had finally and completely dissipated.

That dark time had seemed to age her, but now age seemed to drop away from her. She felt young again, and even Ross noticed how quickly she changed. He decided that the doctor had been right; it was only matter of Brianna being taken out of her familiar environment -- an environment in which her dark time had begun.

Whether seen as positive or negative, the Cove's magical effect on Brianna not only lightened her mood, it intensified her sex drive.

Consider then the situation: two attractive people in love; one, Brianna with a heightened sex drive; the other, Ross, cut off from normal sexual release; a fairly isolated place; granted they are mother and son, but there existed a volatile situation.

Had they not been mother and son they would have been lovers long before this, but there still stood between them the barrier of incest taboo, and although that barrier was close to disintegrating, it still lingered on for that first night in the Cove. That night in the cottage an acute hearer would have heard the muffled cries of Brianna and Ross as they masturbated, fantasising each other.

* * * * * * * *

The day promise to be warm and over breakfast Brianna suggested that they go swimming. Ross said yes, but first wanted to go and find the place he and his father used to fish from because he intended to try some fishing while they were at the Cove.

After they had cleared up Ross went in search of the fishing spot, and Brianna prepared herself for swimming. This amounted to putting on a two piece and a beach robe, and carrying a couple of towels she headed for the beach.

As she went down the path to the beach she could see Ross walking towards one end of the Cove in search of his half-remembered fishing spot. As she arrived on the beach she could see a few people at some distance stretched out on the sand or swimming and some children playing with a dog, throwing a ball into the water and the dog retrieving it.

She spread a towel on the sand and sat for a while taking in the scene. After a while she went for her swim, and on her return she found Ross, sitting on the towel waiting for her. The swim had invigorated her and she was in a playful mood.

"Dry me," she said, and Ross stood and picking up a towel began to dry her back. When he had finished Brianna said coaxingly, "I've got a front too, you know," and she turned to face him. As he started to rub her shoulders they looked into each others eyes. This was the moment the incest taboo barrier finally collapsed.

They kissed, at first tenderly, but it soon became almost ardent their tongues tasting each others warm succulence. Her body pushed firmly against his, one slim leg wedged between his knees.

After a few moments Ross said hoarsely, "I'm only wearing swimming trunks, remember, and there are people around."

Brianna laughed and said, "Is it showing over the top?" as indeed it was. She laughed again and went on, "No one can see they're too far away." She nuzzled his neck and her thigh was pressed against his.

"Mum," he warned.

She chuckle and drew away. "What a puritan you are," she said, and sitting down began to dry her hair.

He sat too, drawing up his legs and putting his arms over his knees trying to hide his erection.

"I've got an idea," she said.

"Oh?"

Her voice husky she said, "Why don't we go back to the cottage?"

Ross seemed to be having trouble speaking and he simply nodded.

They walked up the path to the shack and inside Brianna said, "I'd like to soak off this salt."

It was as if they wanted to delay the moment of fulfilment. Ross, having recovered his voice said, "I'll get us some drinks while you have your bath.

Her arms went round his neck and she kissed him. "Get the drinks and bring them into the bathroom."

He encircled her waist with his arms, hugging her close and she felt him corneous against her stomach, but she pulled away before things got out of control, "Let me get cleaned up first," she said breathlessly.

She disappeared into the bathroom.

He heard the sound of running water. He poured a whisky for himself and a gin and tonic for her and took them to the bathroom. For a few moments he watched her from the doorway, admiring her creamy skin, the slimness of her legs and body and her breasts.

Her hair, still wet from the sea, hung in tousled strands around her face and over her shoulders. Her green eyes closed as she sank down into the water, and she sighed, a quiet moan of pleasure, as the warmth flooded her. The nipples of her small breasts rose above the water line.

He handed her the drink. Her eyes opened as she took the drink. They touched glasses and sipped. He put his hand in the water, brushing the smoothness of her skin, running is fingers down so that they entwined in the silky hair between the top of her thighs.

She drew in a short breath and her teeth bit gently against her lower lip. "Feels good," she murmured as his hand lingered.

He leaned over and kissed an erect nipple as she lightly stroked his hair. His lips moved to her shoulder and he gently bit the skin before moving on, his mouth finding sensitive places in her neck, drawing softly on them so that her head twisted to one side in sensuous delight.

He relaxed, not wanting to take the love-making too far, not yet.

She smiled and whispered, "There's a comfortable bed waiting for us."

He helped her massage shampoo into her hair, rinsing it with his own empty whisky glass, using a cloth on her back, all his movements slow and languid.

Eventually he drew her from the water and she stood before him, a beautiful, sinuous figure, almost sensually innocent in her nakedness.

He patted her dry with a towel and when he reached her legs they parted a little as he dabbed them; he paused to kiss her stomach, her hips, and the top of her thighs. She as very damp there and it was not just water.

"Darling," she said, "let's go to bed now."

He reached for a bathrobe hanging behind the door, and wrapping it round her shoulders and tying the sash in front of her, he said, "You go ahead, "I'll pour us another drink."

He poured the drinks and made his way to her bedroom. Still in her bathrobe she was lying on top of the bed, waiting for him. One leg was provocatively exposed to the thigh, while the robe was loose enough around her neck to reveal the delicate curves of her breasts.

He took in the sight before him and moved into the room, and putting the drinks on the bedside cabinet he sat on the bed.

Neither of them spoke, but they looked each other, enjoying what they saw, both relishing the waiting.

Finally she drew him down. His hands went inside the robe, reaching round to her back, pressing her flesh, pulling her close. They kissed and there was no control, their mouths open to each other's, their lips crushing.

Her relentless hands caressed his sides, his back, his hips, squeezing, scratching, inciting. He fondled her breasts and they were soft and yielding, only their nipples resisting, the hardened tips thrusting themselves at the palms of his hands.

She kissed his chest, causing pleasurable tension there, her tongue heightening that sensation.

His hand slid towards her thighs, delving beneath the material of her robe to feel the roundness of her buttocks, pressing them, his fingers searching the end of her spine.

She moaned aloud and collapsed onto her back, one leg raised over his.

His searching hand came back to find her warm moistness and a small cry welcomed his approach. He touched, lingered, entered when her rising hips implored him. She opened to him and his fingers penetrated her, his thumb caressing her sensitive clitoris, using soft, smooth friction to make her gasp, to clutch him tightly, to grip his body with her limbs.

Her breath was fast and shallow, and she groaned with disappointment when he released her, craving more, more touching, more feeling, but he needed her, wanted to be engulfed by her.

She understood his intent and throwing aside her robe she helped him free himself of his swimming trunks, reaching down when they were gone and guiding him into her.

He entered and there was no hindrance, the journey into her liquid smooth vagina and the motion causing them both to murmur words of love.

He forced himself to stop, wishing to see her face, her love and to show his. They kissed once more and the tenderness was soon overtaken by driving need.

He felt the hot, pliant softness of her thighs around his own and he bent low to kiss her breasts. He supported himself on his elbows so that their stomachs parted while they remained locked together at the genitals, with no intention of separating.

The sight of her beneath him was exquisite and his thrusting became hurried, she soon matching his rhythm. He collapsed onto her, his chin pressing into the side of her neck. She held him to her, their bodies moving against each other's, their gasps filling the room, her passionate whimpers driving him on, their final cries rising to a crescendo, and then their slow, sinking sighs whispering their contentment.

After a while they drew apart, kissing as they did so, both allowing the excitement to ebb away, each catching their breath.

She recovered more quickly and turned to him and traced a finger across his open lips and he bit softly, his breathing slowing down.

"And again?" she asked mischievously.

"Sometimes you know, you look like a teenager," he said.

"Now?"

He nodded. "And a few minute ago."

"You don't think I'm too old for you?" she asked.

He smiled and said, "What's nineteen years these days."

"I'm you mother."

"And who better to make love with?" he said.

She smiled inwardly, agreeing with him.

They made love again after the evening meal, this time on the sofa in the living room, this time more relaxed, less hastily, both prolonging their release, savouring every moment of their shared pleasure.

The bond between them seemed to be sealed when later, after taking his thick creamy cum into her mouth she sat across him as he smelt her femaleness and tasted her warm juices. Afterwards they kissed, and redolent of each other there was no element of doubt about their future.