Looking back, Mark realised the sexual relationship he developed with his mother never really had a definite start. He had memories of things seen, said, done, that sowed seeds. And like seeds, they grow slowly until at some point they become flowers: beautiful and real.
His father left when he was just 5. Helen, his mother had Mark at 1. After the separation though, she threw herself into working, running the household, and providing for her son. Mark helped where he could -- chores around the house and garden, and life was pretty good.
Mark was still at high school at 14. His mother Helen just 31, she got a windfall. She won third prize in a national lottery with ticket she bought. The prize was a little over £86,000.
It was the first time they'd ever had free cash. Helen paid a of all her bills, eliminated the little debt she'd accumulated on her credit card, and took Mark on a f******n-day cruise. She gave him a good allowance for the two weeks, and gave him instructions that he was to spend it all however he pleased.
They stood at the rail as the ship left Southhampton harbour. The fresh sea breeze in Helen’s long dark-brown hair made her smile. She tossed her head to clear it from her eyes.
Mark said: "You're really beautiful today, mum."
"Just today?" She smiled, her hazel eyes flashing above her cheeks, pinked from the wind.
"Especially today. Because you're smiling and carefree, I guess."
"Thank you, darling.” She looked at the passing landscape as the ship slid towards the open sea. Mark looked at her, studied her, as if he'd forgotten what she looked like. Now he came to admire her womanliness as well has her motherliness.
Mark was of medium height and stocky build teenager. Helen was a little shorter, size 12, 38D bust. The stiff breeze made her thin cotton dress cling to her shape. Her breasts always fascinated Mark. They appeared large on her small frame, outlined as they were right then, nestled above her taught stomach and shapely legs.
Helen looked at her son, and they put their arms around each other. Two women walked past, who apparently had partaken freely of the half-price 'welcome aboard' drinks. Helen heard one say "Look at that one! She scored well. He's gotta be fifteen years younger than her."
She giggled. Mark hadn't heard properly so she explained: "They think I'm some sort of sugar mummy!” who's brought my toyboy for an ocean romp."
They laughed together. Helen’s head rested on his shoulder for a few minutes until the ship left the protection of the cliffs and the wind blew harder. Helen got a little cold and they went inside to sit at the bar.
Helen allowed Mark to have a drink as they were on holiday. Being unaccustomed to unrestricted spending, they were soon quite merry. They chose a place to eat, drank wine, then returned to their cabin, which had two bedrooms, a shared bathroom and a small lounge. Best of all, they had a private balcony. The wind was on the other side so sitting out there sipping champagne was comfortable.
They'd been chatting all evening and had returned more than once to the overheard snippet of conversation about her as an older woman and him as her young toy-boy. Now alone, Mark was saying, earnestly, that he was not surprised those women thought that. She was beautiful.
Helen had to admit she'd noticed admiring male eyes resting on her from time to time, but perhaps not fully realising that one of the pairs belonged to her own son.
He had been a little uncomfortable with some of his thoughts about her. But now, as alcohol reduced their inhibitions that had already been minimised by their excitement at the pending adventure, Mark's mouth was uttering words he didn't seem to have the power to stop.
"No, I mean, see it from their viewpoint. These cruises are renowned for illicit liaisons. I reckon I saw two other couples with a noticeable age difference..."
"Other couples? Are we a couple?"
"Hah hah. You know what I mean Mum. I mean two pairs where the woman was clearly older than the male. And that young blond girl behind you sat on the lap of that weird man in the silly captain's hat and blazer and he's gotta be fifty."
"Maybe she's his daughter."
"She had her tongue in his mouth, so no, I don't think so."
"Oh."
And then his thoughts ran riot with his mouth making admissions he might not have made in any other circumstance.
"...And you're the sexiest woman on the ship, mum. Really.
I mean, you're way hotter even than that young blonde, and..."
"Mark. Hush darling.”
"Huh?"
"Think what you just said, to me, your mother."
"I know what I said and I meant it. Don't you know how sexy you look? When you stand naked in front of the mirror, don't you see?"
He saw something in her eyes that made him stop, gulp. Suddenly the distant hiss of the water rushing past the hull seemed loud.
"Mum?"
"Huh? Sorry, darling. What was that?"
"I said, are you ok? You look, sort of, far away."
"Oh, nothing Mark. Maybe we should get some sleep."
"What? C'mon mum, it's just past 10."
"Um, well, maybe a walk on the deck?" Yeah. Sober up in the cool air.
They went up the single flight of stairs and into the strong breeze. People promenaded, they joined in the procession. Helen hung onto Mark's arm, partly for support. She realised her nipples were poking out, and something else: They weren't only doing that from the cold. Which was why she felt that tingle all over. That long-forgotten tingle. Between her legs.
Mark's thoughts were more confused: What the actual fuck did I say? I said she was sexy. What did I say that made her stop me, then glaze over? Did I actually say that I thought about her naked?
They rounded a corner and immediately found shelter.
"Oooh Mark. Let's stay here, it's cold in the wind."
They were under a lamp. Mark stared at his mother's nipples, poking against her dress. She felt, rather than saw, where he was looking. She was immobile. He didn't look away.
Oh stop pretending. Admit it Helen. Admit your desires. So let him look. Those nips aren't going soft while he's looking at them.
She looked into his eyes, smiled, and looked at the waves again. There. Confirmed. He had to tear his eyes away.
Mark spoke: "What are you thinking, mum?"
"I was thinking how lucky I am to be out here with you. How handsome you are. And strong. Here. Give me a hug."
She turned into him, put her arms around his shoulders. Immediately Mark's went around her waist, and they pulled each other in hard. Helen looked up at her son as her breasts were crushed against him.
"Hey, Tiger. You're gonna squash me."
He eased slightly, and let his hands slide down to rest on the tops of her buttocks.
Helen put her head on his shoulder. The fresh sea air filled her nostrils, she hung there for a few moments before she felt renewed tingling in her nipples.
Can he feel them through his shirt? Oh what the heck. He's not backing away. Did he...? His hands just went lower. And... Oh Christ. I think he's getting an erection.
He was. He'd already planned to blame the drink if she said anything, because he was confused. She was his mother, but he was sure she was...different... towards him. For example, had she ever pressed her tits against him? Or let him put his hands on her bum? No. So what did it mean?
Despite the cold, Mark's forehead was hot. His heart beat faster. “Can she feel my cock? I can feel her nipples.?"
He swallowed drily as he let his hands slip lower. Over the curve of her buttocks, now running inwards towards the top of her thighs. I'm stroking her bum. Fuck it. Blame the drink. I'm gonna...
Slowly, Mark pulled his mother's dress up higher. Up, towards her buttocks. She wasn't stopping him.
Helen looked up into his eyes, then glanced around them to make sure nobody was near, then put her head back on his shoulder. Mark's doubts and confusion lifted. She'd given him silent permission.
He hitched the dress higher, then put his hands under the fabric, resting them on her knickers. She nestled in closer, said nothing, even when his boldness drove him to intrude further. Now he put his hands inside her knickers and cupped her bare bum cheeks. They were warm despite the cold air.
Oh fuck! I've got my hands in my mum's underwear! She's letting me touch her!
They stood like that for a minute, during which both felt sure they could feel each other's heart thumping. Mark gulped. Helen snuggled closer. She was surer, more confident than her son, and her maturity told her to let it be.
But Mark's mind was a mess of frantic thoughts: I'm feeling my mother and I've got my hands on her bare bum and inside her knickers and she's not moving away. Why isn't she moving away, slapping me, yelling at me? She's not very drunk I've seen her more drunk and she's always so reserved and I'm touching her bum inside her knickers and she's still letting me... Oh FUCK!
Helen put one hand behind herself and held one of Mark’s hands against her buttocks, then applying gentle pressure over that hand she slowly, deliberately turned around. Mark felt that hand slide around the bone of her hip, towards... Oh god, mum! ... to nestle on her front his fingertips touching her soft pubic hairs.
Pushing her buttocks back against her son's now obvious erection, she parted her feet and still with her hand over her Mark's, she pushed his hand down. Mark’s hand was on his mother's pussy, and with a deft bending of her fingers, she pushed his inside her.
There, baby. Feel your mother's pussy. My wet, open pussy. Haha! You have your fingers in the pussy! Ohhh, yes, baby. Slowly, gently.
As cool as Helen was about this i****tuous situation, Mark was in a trembling fever. He bent slightly to get his fingers inside his mother’s pussy, marvelled at how wet it was, as his hips involuntarily started a slow grind his cock against her buttocks.
This was the first pussy he had ever touched and it was his mother’s pussy, another part of him came to the realisation that he was so achingly erect for this woman because she was his mother.
"Mark. You still want to know what I'm thinking?"
"Yes."
"I want you to take me to bed."
"Oh shit. Mum?"
"Say it that again, mum.”
Helen turned to face him, still with her son's hand down the front of her knickers and two of his fingers inside her, kissed his earlobe and whispered into his ear, slowly, clearly "I want you to take me to our cabin Mark and fuck me."
He gulped, trembling in his excitement. "Are you sure mum?”
"Very."
"Oh mum. I've thought about you so much..."
A few minutes later, they were in their suite, they stood awkwardly in front of each other. Having agreed to i****t, they didn't seem to know how to start. Now it was Joey who took the lead: "Will you undress for me, mum?"
She smiled for him, reached behind herself for the zip, pulled it down a little, and wriggled so her dress fell to the floor. She put her hands by her sides and smiled at her Mark.
Mark looked at the white lace bra and knickers. Her breasts strained against the sheer fabric, which cupped them snugly. His eyes fixed on the shape of her nipples, travelled down her stomach to the white lace that covered her vagina, noticing the darker patch of her pubic hair and the wetness there, then went back to her eyes.
She fixed his gaze as she reached behind for the clasp of her bra, unsnapped it, and pulled it off. And there they were, the objects of so many masturbation fantasies, his mother's firm breasts. The brown nipples stood out proudly now.
"Take your knickers off, mum."
"Not yet. You can take them off in a minute. First I'm going to undress you."
Helen stepped towards her Mark and helped him out of his t-shirt. She stroked his chest, and delighted as his nipples hardened when she ran the back of her fingernails over them.
She reached down for his belt and smiled into his eyes as she unbuckled it. Then came the button, then the zip which mercifully slid down without jamming.
"Ahh, mum?"
Her answer was to pull his hard young cock out of his boxers and squeeze it as she kissed his mouth. He gasped into hers. The touch of his mother's gentle hand on his young shaft sent shivers through him. She stroked it gently.
Mark's hands went to his mother's breasts. He rubbed, pulled her nipples, cupped her breasts…
"That's nice, darling. I can feel how ready you are. I want you to feel how ready I am."
He looked at her, and slid one hand down, down, until his fingers came to the elastic waist of her knickers.
Oh my god. Is she really going to let me...fuck...her?
A little awkwardly this time, he got his fingers inside them. His hand went lower, pushing the knickers down out of the way, and then it was done. Mark's middle finger slipped easily into his mother's wetness, his palm resting on her thick bush of pubic hairs.
Yes, Mark. Feel my pussy. Feel how wet I’am for you.
Helen swooned at his touch just as he was with hers. There they stood, mother and son, wearing only the last piece of underwear inside which they fondled and caressed each other.
Helen pushed his shorts down his thighs until they fell the rest of the way. Mark bent and did the same to her, gasping with desires when he saw her hairy pussy for the first time. He was overcome with lust. He took his mother by the hand and led her to the bed. He turned on the lamp and lay down beside her.
Helen smiled at him, opened her legs wide and beckoned him on top of her. He smiled at the thought of how urgently she needed him. He knelt between her legs, lowered himself on top of her, and then sank inside her, all the way, both of them gasping at the sheer electricity of it.
Oh yes! He's inside me now! My son is going to fuck me. He's so hard. It's been so long since I have felt this…
Mark's brain screamed at him: Is this real? Am I really inside my mother's pussy? Will she let me cum inside her?
That first time was quick, frantic even. Mark thrust in to his mum time and time again, his belly slapping hers, her hips rising to meet him at every thrust. She felt the fire building in him, matched only by her own. She urged him on with her eyes, the urgency of her hips, and the pressure of her hands on his buttocks.
Mark was in heaven. He didn't care what else happened. Lust consumed him, only the hot wet juices of his mother's cunt provided any focus of sensation, everything else was peripheral.
Through the fog of his raging desire, her heard her whisper breathlessly:
"Oh Mark. I'm gonna cum, baby!"
"Fuck me darling. Make me cum."
Her thighs rippled as her pussy spasmed. Mark felt it, and desperately plunged into her. Helen’s world shrank, the only things in it were her pussy, her burning clit, her tender nipples, and her son's rampaging cock.
He's gonna cum! Oh FUCK yes! I can feel it!
Mark's whole body stiffened as his i****tuous cum began its journey. He was aware of his mother's hands on his buttocks urging him into her, and her moans, and her pussy milking at him, and it’s heat, but he was more intensely aware of the burn in his shaft, the swelling of his young virgin knob, as he began to spurt.
A small gob, a bigger one, again, again, another, another... Mark's balls emptied cum inside his mother’s hairy pussy in such waves that he wondered if it would stop. His face contorted, his buttocks went firm, as he pushed and held there. Even when he had spent his load, his hips kept pressing and hers met him.
Mark slumped down on top of his mother. Still gently fucking as their senses returned, Helen stroked her son's sweaty brow.
"Oh, Mark. That was so good. I've wanted to do this for so long..."
"Me too, mum. I dreamed about you. About F….” you."
"Say it, Mark darling.”
Hardly daring to express it, he whispered: "I've dreamed of fucking you mum."
"And now you have Darling.”
"And now I have."
"Mark, honey. Just so you know, I'm safe. I can't get pregnant, ever,..."
“That’s good, mum."
After their first acts of i****t love, Helen fell asleep in her son Mark's arms that night. In the early morning, he awoke. In the light of the moon reflected off the sea, he studied his mother's sleeping face for a while, until she stirred and rolled onto her back. Now he studied her naked body.
Laying there, her breasts rose and fell slowly with her breathing. The nipples were no longer hard, but he was mesmerised by the shape and firmness of her round breast’s. He touched one nipple, tweaked it, watched it stiffen.
She slept on. Mark continued his gentle caressing of his mother's breasts while he looked down to the nice thatch of dark brown hairs, trimmed and heart-shaped, that crowned her pussy. Even looking down like that, he saw that the lips themselves were smooth, hairless. She had one leg straight, the other crooked.
His cock stirred, It was now rock hard. He wanted her again. He thought the best way to awaken her was by awakening her lust.
Mark bent low, kissed one nipple and then the other. He licked them to make them wet, kissed them, pinched them gently between his thumbs and fingers.
Helen stirred but remained asleep. So he kissed and nibbled her nipples again while his hand sought out her hairy pussy. He cupped his hand under it, rubbing gently. Her pussy lips were slightly wet, he wondered if she was having a sexy dream, hoping it was about him.
He knew her clitoris would be, somewhere... there. Is that it? It feels like a little button. Oh, she just twitched. Maybe I found it. Yes, she's moving now.
Helen began dreaming of hands on her body. Of a finger touching her pussy. Of her nipples, hardening, being licked and sucked gently, oh so gently. Just hands and a mouth. Dismembered, not part of anybody. Then she felt the tingle, in her dream, of awakened desire. Two fingers touching her pussy lips, another rubbing her sensitive button.
The hands and mouth took form. It was a man. No face, an anonymous male. A tweak of her nipples, and she jerked. She opened her thighs for the hand. Two fingers went to her opening, gently pressing, as her dampness turned to a slickness and her pussy prepared to receive the man's fingers inside...
Her eyes opened. Through the mist of half-sleep, Helen’s mind cleared to consciousness. The fingers were trying to enter her folds. His mouth worked her nipples. The man was looking at her. Marks face became clear.
"Oh Mark darling. What a beautiful way to wake up!"
She stretched, stroked the back of his head as he lapped at her tits. Still his fingers tried her opening. She took them in her hand, showed him where and how her clit needed to be touched. Yes needed. Her desire grew. She reached for her son's hair, pulled him up to kiss him.
"You wanna fuck me again, honey?"
"Mmm. Yes mum. That's why I woke you."
"It's OK darling. I liked it. You can wake me like this any day."
"I've been trying to wake you slowly, it's taken a while..."
"And?"
"And now I'm really, really horny." He said.
She giggled: "Climb on top, darling. It'll be OK."
He got between her thighs, held his cock at her entrance, and pushed. She was barely wet, so it took him a little adjusting before he could begin pressing. It was heavenly. In the cool morning air under the cabin's aircon, the pussy that welcomed his cock was warm.
"Yes, baby. Fuck mummy. I want it so much."
As her wetness increased, so did his urgency. He raised himself on his arms to watch his cock disappear inside his mother’s hairy bush, then reappear coated with her juice. As urgent as his desire was, he kept his thrusts long and slow, delighting in the sensations, sounds, and sight of it. Her eyes were full of love, desire;
a mother's love with a lover's desire.
Still he fucked, gently, and his restraint had the intended result. Helen was getting hornier now too and began fucking him back.
"I don't want to cum yet, mum."
“Helen stopped Mark and told him to lay down” He swopped place with his mother and lay down.
back baby and enjoy.” Helen told him.
She got on top, lowered herself onto him, and began rocking on his cock as she flicked and rubbed her clit.
Mark's hands kneaded and rubbed her large soft breasts. She leaned forwards and gave her nipples to his mouth for him, and he nibbled them.
"Yes, darling. Like when you were a baby. Suck mummy’s tits." I remember this, baby. How much I loved you sucking them, how I used to finger myself when you did.
Her hips ground her clit onto his pubic bone. It was wet now with her juices, matting his young pubes to his skin.
She sat back, lost in ever rising lust while her son's thumb pressed the little button as his cock split her pussy apart.
Breathing heavily now, she realised she was close. She gazed at Mark. She smiled, bit her bottom lip. Mark guessed why and increased his upwards pressure.
She was open and wet for him now, her heat triggering a renewed burning in his loins. He grabbed her tits, pulled at her nipples, almost cruelly teasing them to greater sensation.
Helen’s thighs were slick and slapped against his rhythmically. He grunted. It rose in him like a tide, unstoppable, powerful, and again his cock spurted his cum deep inside his mother, triggering her into a rippling orgasm that prolonged the pleasure of his own, spurting, throbbing, blowing his mind, turning everything pink in his head, and making his cock burn with each jet of his i****tuous sperm, fading to twitches, and then it was done.
Helen looked down at her son, proud, loving even as she rocked gently on his cock. They gazed into each other's eyes wordlessly for many minutes until Joey's cock softened and fell out of its slick glove.
"I love you, mum."
"Me or my pussy?" "You AND your pussy."
"And I love you. And your cock."
She eased over beside him, he pulled the covers over them both. Helen rested her hand on his chest, her head on her other hand, one thigh over his. She didn't care that she had her son's cum dripping, drying on her thigh. She said: "I know this might be weird for you, darling. But it felt so right. But if you freak out, well..."
"I won’t.Mark said,
I've wanted this too. I even tried to do something about it a couple of times.”
"Oh really?" She giggled. "When?"
"The first time was after aunty Sandra’s wedding. Remember we slept next to each other on the fold-down?"
"Mm Hmm."
"I didn't get much sleep. You were in your bra and knickers and I was in boxers. My dick kept getting hard, and I tried to..."
"Go on baby. I'm interested." She was teasing the hairs on his chest now.
"I tried to masturbate, like, against your pussy."
"Oooh, baby! It's a shame you didn't just pull my knickers aside and poke it in!"
"While you're asleep? That's pretty creepy."
"You could have woken me. I would have let you, even then."
"Shit, really?" I was only 12.
"Yeah. I told you, I've thought about this for a long time.
Tell me about the second time, then I'll tell you some things."
She nestled back down onto her son's chest, idly stroking him.
"OK. This one's less clear in my mind because it was some time ago. I came home from school and was passing the bathroom. You left the door open. I saw you get out of the shower."
"Mmm. What did you see?"
"Everything."
"No, describe it."
"Oh, OK. Er, tits. Wet, Nipples. You had more hair, down there back then."
"OK. Here are my tales then. First, I was awake that time on aunty Sandra’s fold-down. At least I felt your cock against my pussy. But I wasn't sure, then, so I pretended to be asleep."
"Oh."
"Second, that time in the shower. Did you notice it took me a little while to cover up? I was looking straight at you, remember?"
“Did you…”
"And one more time. When you had that fever. Did you have any wet dreams?"
"Huh? How did you..."
"Because it wasn't a dream. You needed to sleep, proper sleep, and your dick kept getting hard. Oh baby, I love you so much. So I wanked you then and there. You came all over my hand and finally fell asleep."
"Holy shit! I didn’t know that!”
Helen giggled, cupped her son's flaccid cock in her hand, and smirked at herself. He was silent, she figured he'd be digesting what they'd said. She was thinking, as she held Mark’s cock, I made this! And they drifted back to sleep.
After 9 o'clock, Helen woke and shook Mark. He stretched, kissed her, stretched again. She urged him up.
"C'mon, sleepy-head. Let's go get some breakfast."
"Can't we just stay here, send out for something?"
"Hmmm, nice idea. But no. Here's another idea. What if we behave like those two women thought? Y'know, Milf and her Toy boy.”
"Yeah. Nobody knows us here, let's be..."
"What?"
"Feels weird, saying this to my mum! Let's be lovers!"
Helen laughed. "After what we've been doing, it's not so weird."
He became serious for a moment. "Mum, I love this, being intimate with you. And you said you like it too. But, well, it's..."
" It’s i****t. and meant to be wrong. I know?"
“I'm committing i****t with my mother. And it's very, very right. Hah!
Maybe being so wrong is what makes it right, you know?"
"Yes, darling, I think I do know. And I'm glad we aren't pretending about what we're doing. Now go take a shower."
"Come with me."
"Oh, I'd like that. Yes."
They soaped each other, giggling like teenagers exploring each other's bodies. Helen sprang the surprise she'd planned as soon as they'd finished washing. She dropped to her knees and before Mark knew what was happening she already had her mouth around his cock.
Oh Jesus.... I can't believe it. Mum's sucking my cock.
He was hard almost instantly, despite this being the approach to his third ejaculation in so few hours. But the wetness of her mouth, and the knowledge that it was his own mother sucking his cock, made sure he rose quickly to heights of pleasure that could have only one result.
Helen’s mouth bobbed up and down on his knob and one hand stroked his shaft rhythmically while the other gently cupped his balls. Mark watched, overjoyed at the feeling and urged on by the sight. His cock, in and out of her mouth.
Oh my! His cock is so lovely! Will I let him cum…in my mouth? I never have before, but...it's Mark. My son.
She kept it up for three or four minutes. Try as he might to prolong this new peak of sensations, Mark couldn't stop the surge as he came, in short sharp spurts. In mum's mouth! I'm cumming in mum's mouth!
His knees weakened as his bolts shot from him. Helen sucked gently, feeling the pulses, tasting the salt cream as her son's cock gave up its charge. He came quickly, she sucked it in and swallowed it before slurping the last of it off the end of his cock.
Oh my! I just sucked my son off. I like his cum taste, though.
She laughed. Mark looked at her with a question in his eyes.
"Oh darling. It tastes like last night's champagne!"
He laughed too. Mark rinsed off while Helen dried herself. He hugged her from behind, kissed her neck, and whispered in her ear: "I told you, you are the sexiest woman on this ship. Maybe in the whole world"
During the day they played bingo, table-tennis, ate a light lunch.
"That bloke in the black shorts and blue t-shirt has been ogling you for ages."
"So?"
"I'm jealous!"
She laughed, blushed proudly, then decided to make him proud too. She stood beside him and planted a big, wet, tongue-kiss on him. At first Mark tensed: What the fuck? I can't kiss my mum like this in public! Oh, yeah. She's not my mum to them...
"I better start calling you ‘Helen’, hadn't I?"
"If you want. Or ‘Babe’ ‘Honey' or Darling. But not 'cupcake' OK?"
He laughed: "I like ‘Honey'."
"OK, 'honey' it is. Now, I'm all sweaty, you are too. We both need a shower. Wanna get nasty first?"
Mark looked around him, afraid somebody had heard. He looked at his mother, grinning at him as she towelled off, and said: "OK honey."
That evening, after a seafood dinner and white wine, they held hands while walking around the promenade deck. It was cold - they hadn't sailed far enough north yet to enjoy the tropics - so almost nobody braved the cool southerly wind. But Helen had an idea.
She led him to that secluded, sheltered spot they'd shared last night. Mark smiled, remembering how his heart had hammered in his chest as he'd lifted his mother's dress, put his hands on her bare bum, and then the first touch of her wet, hairy pussy...
Helen snuggled in close, patted his chest, and whispered in his ear: "I'm not wearing any knickers tonight.”
"What?"
"I took them off when I went to the loo. Y'know, in case you wanted to feel me up, here, where it started last night."
His hand had already begun its journey before she'd finished her invitation. She parted her feet, opening herself for him. Mark was surprised to find she was already soaking wet, and slid two fingers inside her straight away.
"Ooh, yes baby. Keep an eye out in case somebody comes. Keep doing that."
He teased her. While gently finger-fucking, he only allowed occasional, fleeting contact with her clit even when she pressed against him.
"Oh you little bastard. Teasing your mummy like that!"
But her gasps and panting told him she was loving it. Some minutes after he'd first put his fingers into her, he cupped her mound firmly, the two middle fingers bent in her quim, while he rubbed his palm against her. She rocked her hips back, grinding her clit along his hand, and began to moan softly.
Yes, baby. Make mummy cum again.
As it rose in her belly, her orgasm threatened to let rip in her throat too. Without realising it, she bit Mark's shoulder through his thin shirt. He didn't care, he was proud of how hot he'd made her and just wanted his mum to cum.
Helen’s arms went around Mark's neck as she pulled closer to the hand that sent her wild. Her legs shivered, she stifled a squeal into her son's shoulder, and they both felt her liquid flush as her climax overcame her.
Still Mark kept his hand there, stroking gently now, as her pussy juice dripped into a puddle in his palm then escaped to run down Helen’s thighs.
He whispered: "Mum, did you just, um, squirt?"
"Yes, darling. I do that sometimes. Oh don't take your hand away yet."
"But it's leaking down your thighs."
"I don't care."
They stood like that for a minute, Mark gently cupping his mum's pussy while she wondered; How does my son make me so horny, so easily, so often? I would never have dared anything like this, in public, with anyone. Not even his father.
A noise spooked them and they hurriedly made themselves fit to be seen and went back to being a couple promenading.Helen giggled as she put her hand in Mark's, covered with her pussy juice as it was. They rounded the corner and there were two teenagers kissing and fumbling. They looked with horror at the couple who'd discovered them. Mark said nothing, Helen just smiled at them as they passed "Have fun, you two. It's warmer around there."
The two smiled awkwardly. A few paces later, Mark looked back to see them disappear around 'their' corner.
"They took your advice, mum."
"Good. You hungry?"
They went to the late-night bar for a snack. Both washed their hands, then sitting in a booth Mark said: "Um, did you put your knickers back on?"
She didn't answer, she just fumbled in her purse and put a bundle in his hand. Even in the dim light, and without looking, he knew she'd just handed him her underwear. The look of wicked triumph on her face made him melt. For the first time since they began their charade, he leaned in close, lifted her chin with his hand, and kissed her passionately, with tongues.
It's so funny. My son and I have fucked, I've sucked him off - first man that ever came in my mouth! And he fingered me to climax - shit, all in public! - just an hour ago. And yet, I feel weird kissing him!
A waitress approached, her attention on the order pad on her tray. She looked up and said "I'm Sandy. Can I get you... Oh. Sorry. I guess you're, er, busy."
Helen’s newly-awakened wickedness kicked in: "Not yet, but we will be later."
The woman smiled, bent lower, and said "Lucky you!"
Mark blushed, Helen ordered a G&T and a beer. As the woman walked off, Helen caught him looking. She put her hand on his groin, under the table, and said: "She's got a cracking arse, hasn't she?"
"Oh. Sorry. That skirt's too short, really, and the black stockings are pretty hot."
"Want to fuck her?"
"What? No. I mean, I might, if we weren't..."
"It's OK, son. I'm teasing. Only, I'd be OK if you wanted other women. I saw how she winked at you. So I intend to make sure this..." She squeezed his cock... "Gets all the attention it needs."
"Deal. And Helen? You might wanna let go or..."
"Haha. OK Tiger. Hey, you wanna dance?"
"I can't."
"Oh you can! We've danced heaps of times, and you're good."
"No, I can't because I've got a boner."
She giggled. Sandy returned with their drinks. She bent low, creamy-white cleavage-flashing-at-his-eye-level low, to place them on the table. Mark gulped, Helen smiled at him. As Sandy turned to leave, both their eyes followed her butt and thighs. Mark looked at his mother. She leaned in close and whispered: "Hold those thoughts." She grinned at him with the straw of her drink between her teeth. She was delighting in her son's sexual discomfort.
Sandy was the same height as Helen, a little heavier, with tattoos on her upper arms and one leg. She had pale skin and dark lipstick. In short, she was nothing like Helen. But as Mark watched her work, she caught his eye occasionally.
Helen and Mark did manage to dance, have a few drinks. The crowd thinned, Sandy paid special attention to them. Helen was not jealous, rather she relished the knowledge that, no matter how another woman made him feel, her son would be fucking her tonight.
And so it was, later. They were drinking, like teenagers. They tickled each other and walked to their cabin, hugged and kissed in the hallway, probably woke a few people with their laughing. As soon as they were in the cabin, though, Mark's demeanour changed.
He pulled Helen close, kissed her, then spun her around. They were still next to the doorway. He lifted her dress, knowing she had nothing underneath, and she understood his urgency. She bent, presenting her pussy to his gaze, and put her hands on the wall. Her son dropped his pants, bent his knees, and entered her, a little roughly in his haste.
Mark thrust into his mother hard and fast, her dress bunched around her waist, his hands gripping her hips as he plundered her. She grunted at the force, felt and heard his thighs slapping against her buttocks.
Looking down, Mark watched his cock glide in and out of the open, pink folds of his mother's cunt. Watched the ripples of flesh wave across her butt. Saw the little pucker arsehole. And went mad with built-up desire, fucking hard and fast, until an explosion was inevitable.
Helen let him have his way. After all, she'd caused his need, all night, and held her arse cheeks apart for him so his cock plunged her depths.
The hole you came from, son. The pussy you're fucking is the one that brought you into the world. Fill it with your cum!
It was relentless, his fucking, yet she wanted it badly. Not for her own orgasm, but because, she knew, if he needed her this much he would be hers forever.
Mark groaned, loudly, when his balls tightened and his cock was like iron. Still it was seconds away, boiling in his loins, hot spunk ready for release.
"Oh fuck! Mum!"
At last, it came. He pushed his balls deep in his mother's squishy cunt, held there, and splashed his i****t cum in the womb that made him. Spurting rapidly, almost making him faint, Mark's cock emptied ropes of honey that felt like string being pulled through his cock, achingly hard, twitching so much harder than ever.
Four, five, six spurts. A couple of twitches for the last of his cum. Mark's cock still twitched as if to empty more cum in to his mother, though none was left. His knob burned in her heat, so far inside her, and from the throes of his climax. Still he stayed there, Helen pushing back gently, telling him it was all OK, It would always be OK, whenever he wanted to fuck her.
His panting, flushed afterglow lasted some time, and all the while Helen just let her son keep his cock buried inside her, as long as he wanted it to, unselfishly giving herself as only a mother can.
At last, he managed to speak: "Oh mum, that was the best ever."
Still bent, her thighs beginning to complain, her hands still against the wall, Helen squeezed her pussy muscles in reply.
"I wish I had another cock. I wanna fuck you again."
Helen laughed. "Before you do, I need to pee."
Mark eased his half-hard cock out of her, she put her hand under herself to hold the drips and waddled into the bathroom.
When Helen came into the suite, fresh from a shower and smelling sweetly again, she was naked. No need for modesty around her son now. She towelled her hair, beaming with pleasure until she saw Mark sitting on her bed, and then saw the look on his face. With a mother's instinct, she went straight to the point.
"Oh baby. Have you had regrets, I mean, are you sorry? Do you hate me?" She pulled the towel around herself.
"No. No. I love you as much - more, than ever. But I just don't get it. You know what I just thought? I was thinking about the waitress, Sandy. I bet she gets hit on three times a night, but she showed an interest in me."
"She sure did."
"Well I was thinking, if she got naked and offered herself to me, I'd come to you instead."
"Thank you Darling. She's really pretty, and very sexy. So that's a big compliment."
"And that's my point. I'd rather fuck my own mother than somebody else."
Helen crossed the distance between them quickly, pulled his head to her chest standing before him, stroked his head.
"Nothing is wrong with you, or me. OK look. Mothers and sons don't usually have sex with each other.
It's been taboo since science figured out what interbreeding can do. We can't 'breed'. I'm sterile, thanks to you."
"Huh?"
"Don't be sorry. Birth complications, surgery. And I never regretted not having more k**s. But it makes this - us - possible, without the consequences. So science can go fuck itself."
He laughed at her profanity. It was a slim argument to justify i****t, but it would do.
"Mum? Lay beside me, hug me?"
"Sure baby. Sooo. Are you convinced by my weird logic?"
"Mostly yes.”
"So towel or no towel?" She smiled wickedly.
"No towel. So I can do something I've always wanted."
"Oh? And what's that?"
"I want to taste you. I've dreamed of it, and maybe now I can... I want to lick your pussy."
"Oh Mark! You just go right ahead!"
Helen scooted around to lay across the bed, her legs over the side, while Mark knelt and got between them. He rubbed and parted the her lips with his fingers. Delicate pink folds nestled behind the firm fingers of flesh that were her outer lips. Up there, another fold. Her hood. Parting the soft flesh, there it was. The little yellow-white button of her clitoris. Mark was lost in his exploration.
He looked over her pubic hair at his mother's quizzical face. "You happy down there, darling?”
"Everything's OK mother.”
Mark went back to his amazed examination. At the left side of one lip was a faint, straight scar an inch long. He touched it. Helen knew what he was looking at: "They had to cut me there. To get you out."
"Oh mum! I'm so sorry."
"Don't be."
He kissed the scar. Smelt her heady sex. Needed to taste it. So he licked, up the firmer lips, then between them to the softer ones, to taste creamy saltiness. Helen lay back, she let it be.
Mark's tongue poked inside her tunnel, he trapped the little pink folds between his lips, licked them, and put his mouth in a little kiss around her clit. Helen’s breathing told him he was learning fast. Pressing his mouth against her hood, he flicked his tongue against her clit, like he was licking jam off his fingers He was rewarded with a long moan, and involuntary movements of his mum's hips against him that betrayed her deep arousal.
Her wetness increased, and Mark licked it all. Her pussy was smooth, but her pubes tickled his nose when he had his mouth over her clit. He pushed her thighs wider,Helen helped by holding them apart with her hands behind her knees.
Splayed as she was, open, wide open, Helen wondered; I have no other secrets from my son now.
Mark put his index finger in her wet pussy for lube, then pressed it against her arsehole.
"Oh yes, Mark."
With a little pressure, it went in to the second knuckle. With a little more, it popped past the knot resisting it and Helen moaned. Oh fuck.
It was a minute or two away, while Mark licked, poked with his tongue and fucked her arse with his finger. Don't know why I did that - but she likes it.
Having blown big less than half an hour before, Mark could spend all his attention on his mother's pleasure. He took his cues from her body. He learned when her stiffening meant 'not so great' or when it meant 'yes, like that'. He sensed where his tongue gave her the greatest pleasure, and rationed giving it to her to make her squirm for more.
At one point he had two fingers in her pussy and one from the other hand in her bum. By alternating which he pressed with, he was double-finger-fucking her. But he got the most intensive reactions from the finger in her bum and his tongue.
Helen was in raptures. She didn't want it to end, not even in the shattering orgasm she knew was just over the horizon. Her nipples ached, like they used to after she'd fed him, and just like back then she tweaked and rubbed at them. Only now, it's not your tits he's sucking on, it's your cunt. And here it comes. Oh here it comes. I love him so much!
Mark became aware of a little extra juice flowing, and his mother's thighs pressing his ears as though she could no longer hold them way apart for him. Her tummy jerked once, twice. She began to pant: "Yes, Mark. Oh fuck! Yes, baby!"
He pressed his finger, right up to the knuckle at his fist, in his mother's arse as he licked. Another finger slid up and down just inside her pussy, not penetrating, just caressing the slick lips. That combination did it. With his mouth clamped over her clit hood, with some difficulty Mark managed to keep pressure on her clit with his tongue while Helen twitched and jerked, her tits going all over the place. Wetness flushed his mouth, chin and cheeks. He felt ripples in the smooth thighs that clasped his head, sensed the jerking of her stomach. Most of all, he heard her grunting, squeaking almost, like maybe she was pushing him out of herself, as a baby, all over again.
It was seconds, stretched into minutes in her head. Fireworks exploded, she heard herself squealing, knew only of the sharp tingles of her nipples and the wet, hot flush between her legs, focused on her clit and her son's tongue: insistent, valiant, making her cum hard. Long. Subsiding a little, then - she shivered and twitched, tensed her very being as she came again, in a few more seconds of complete rapture.
But now her clit was swollen and angry, so she pulled her son's head away from it. Somehow he understood, and just licked between her soaking lips. On an impulse, he removed his finger from her arse and licked her there too.
Helen had begun to recede from her second orgasm until that moment, and her mind fogged quickly as she shuddered out a third, short and delightful.
Urgently, she said: "Come here, darling.”
Mark scooted up, she twisted to lay lengthwise on the bed and pulled him on top of her. As if by magic, or instinct, his cock slipped into her squishy hole as she held his lovely head between her hands and kissed frantically around his face, not caring that she was licking her own juices from it, sticking her tongue in his mouth, all the time lost in a passionate overflow of her first ever multiple orgasm.
Mark didn't know how to react to this excessive passion, so he just lay on her, cock buried, and let it be. Helen shivered and twitched, transmitting love like morse code from her cunt to his cock, until eventually she eased down from wherever she'd climbed to, still panting but now pressing up at the cock in her gently, like a reflex action.
"Oh my sweet baby boy! You're the limit. Your the best lover”
He grinned.
"I came so hard that first time I thought I'd lose consciousness. Then I came again. Oh baby! I have never cometwice before. Just now I came three times!"
"I'm glad, mum. I love you."
"Oh darling, I love you so much. If I die tomorrow, I've already been to heaven."
He was embarrassed at her gushing praise: "Oh, stop it ma. Besides, you think we'll go to heaven? Or hell?"
Even as her son's cock was inside her, after her earth blew apart in a sustained orgasmic release, she had some mental capacity and she answered: "Oh yes. Hell is a place where nothing good ever happens to you, and heaven is pure paradise. Like this. So we'll be there, together, fucking like rabbits."
Mark laughed, making his cock twitch some more. Helen saw in his face he wanted her, but she was too raw now.
"Let me suck you, darling. My pussy is getting raw ."
So Mark lay back while his mother bent beside him, took his cock in her mouth and slowly, gradually raised his passion. He wanted to tick another box off his list, so he urged her onto her knees beside the bed, where he had pleasured her with his mouth, and watched intently as she used her mouth on his knob.
Occasionally she looked up at him. Even with his cock in her mouth he knew she was smiling. Even when he grasped her head and gently fucked her face, she was willing. She even began gently squeezing his balls, encouraging him deeper into her mouth, and didn't flinch when she gagged at him in the back of her throat.
When his cum began to boil, he whispered one small sentence: "On your tits, mum."
She smiled widely around his cock, a flash of lust in her crystal eyes, and kept sucking until she felt the telltale lifting of his balls and straightening to iron of his cock, then she raised herself and pointed him at her large breasts, gently jacking his shaft and squeezing his balls.
He 'humped' and grunted, then watched in amazement as his cock erupted pure white cum that splashed his mother's left breast; she adjusted, caught the next two ropes on the right one, then cradled his twitching member between them and let him spend the rest there, and on her chin.
She grinned to match his.!
Helen made a slow show of collecting his cum from her tits on her finger and licking it off. She put his cock to her mouth, looking into his eyes all the while, and licked the creamy drops off there too, then along the shaft, rubbing it on her cum covered tits to get more of his cream and licking that off, too.
See, my lovely son? Anything. You can do anything with me. I will do anything with you.
They showered, together. They giggled a bit as they washed his cum off her, and he washed what was left of hers off himself.
It was late. They slept deeply, together, until late in the morning. It was lunchtime when they got moving, the ship was speeding south and the day was warmer.
That third day of their ocean cruise, that night, and the fourth day they were just a couple on holiday. They got into a routine of late drinks at Sandy's Bar - their name for it, since they couldn't ever remember the pretentious French-sounding title it had officially.
Apart from hugs and kisses, they just enjoyed the cruise. It was as if neither had any urgency now. Neither was going anywhere, nor giving up what they'd found. And besides, as Helen said to him in a quiet moment: "My cunt's all worn out and needs a rest."
"Oh, I never heard you use that word before."
"We have a lot of firsts together, you and I."
"True that."
They sipped cocktails on the afterdeck and watched the wake stretch back into the distance. At the other end of the snake was normal life. Where they were mother and son in public, not just in bed lovers.
On the fourth night, Mark came back from the movies. He didn't know where Helen was, and burst into the bathroom to piss urgently. She sat there, naked, on the toilet and instinctively covered up until she saw it was him.
"Oh, sorry mum. I'm busting. Um, I'll wait..."
He heard her tinkle hit the water. He was mentally leaving the room, in reality he was rooted to the spot. The tinkle stopped. Mark looked at her. She had that wicked grin, yet again. Her thighs parted, she looked between them and let another tinkle out, stopped it, then looked back at Mark.
So he stood before her, knelt, and looked between her legs....
The tinkle started, he saw her stream, then it increased and he heard it hiss too. Her pee splashed into the water, splattered against the bowl, for ten seconds or so and then flittered to drips. She took tissues, wiped, and stood.
"Did you enjoy that, darling?”
"Yeah. Not, y'know, erotic but cool. Not cool, hot, I suppose. Because it was you."
She giggled, acknowledging their discussion of a little while ago. They'd decided i****t was so attractive to them because it was forbidden, taboo. Their highs would be less so with somebody else. Which is why nobody else fascinated them like they did each other.
"So?"
"Huh?"
"You were bursting, remember?"
He grinned. "You wanna hold it?"
"Can I?"
"Anything, for each other, that's what we said."
So Helen held her son's cock, gingerly, not knowing how, while he pissed long and hard into the bowl. She played it around, aimed it, splattered a bit on the seat. "Oh, now I understand why guys miss the bowl so often!"
It was a game, intimate if not arousing. It was part of them fully knowing each other. No limits, no secrets.
They'd had sex a couple of times but now it was more spontaneous, no longer desperate or urgent. It was the exact middle of the cruise, tropical, warm days giving way to balmy nights on deck. In their
air conditioned cabin, they rarely bothered with much clothing.
Apart from the practicality of it, it meant they were both acutely aware of each other's bodies most of the time.
They'd been to Sandy's Bar, as usual, and Sandy had flirted with him, as usual. But on that night, Mark was reserved, almost shy. Helen was his mother and knew his moods. So she asked him.
They went back to there cabin to relaxed with each other and watched a movie. Helen yawned, stretched when it was over, and made Mark yawn too. So they brushed their teeth and snuggled naked, as usual, next to each other.
They kissed goodnight and eventually drifted to sleep.
Helen woke first, needing the toilet. When she came back, the bedside clock told her it was 6:04 am. She smiled to herself when she remembered being woken into erotic raptures from a deep sleep by her son's fingers and mouth. She lifted the single cover off his naked body gently. He was on his back, arms beside himself, one leg bent and the other straight. His soft young cock lay against his thigh. Perfect.
Helen crept over the bed, knelt beside him and bent down. She licked her son's glans, around the tip, barely touching it. She kissed, licked, nibbled the end and watched in delight as it slowly stirred. Mark breathed and sighed, but didn't wake up.
In his dream, he was about to take the penalty which could win the game. But something was compelling him to the dressing room. In that weird way that dreams have, suddenly he was on the massage bench, alone except for - what? A feather touch on his penis. And another. A mouth? Why here? Oh, it was a nice feeling. It felt like... But it couldn't be. Not here in the changing rooms. But that touch, just then, it was... wet. Like when his mum... His mum...
Helen saw him stir, felt his cock stiffen fully to fill her mouth. Now she sucked in earnest, just her mouth, no hands. He breathed more deeply, through his nose at first, then sucked air in through his mouth.
Oh my. It's just like when mum sucks my cock. I didn't think anybody else would be so... But who is she? I can't see her. She's a stranger, and yet I'm gonna cum in her mouth. Soon.
Mark’s brain unfurled the wraps of his dream and he stumbled towards wakefulness. Part way, he could not tell if he was wake or dreaming, until - yes. This felt like it was real. It was a mouth. It had to be...
His eyes opened groggily, looked down, and saw his mother's lovely eyes smiling back. Sure enough, she was sucking his cock, and in an instant he knew he was going to blow.
Just as his mind accepted that he was awake, it faded out to oblivion momentarily as his semen erupted from his loins into the wet chamber of the loving mouth around his cock. It was short but intense, over in just seconds. His senses cleared in time for him to look down to see and hear his mother slurp his cum off the end of his cock, a definite gulping motion confirming she'd swallowed it.
"You magnificent, sexy hussy!"
"Thought you'd enjoy that."
"I did. Very much. Not sure if I scored, though."
"What?"
"I was about to kick the goal that won the game and then my cock was in your mouth. Talk about a weird dream."
She laughed, still stroking his hardness and licking under it.
"Mum, I'm ready. I can go again. You want to?"
Oh, the recuperative powers of youth! He's right, though. He's just as hard as ever.
Just as he'd awakened from sleep to ejaculate quickly in his mother's mouth, he now awakened from the blackness of his afterglow after fucking her while his senses returned. Helen’s head had collapsed onto the bed underneath him but her arse was still in the air. He was still inside her pussy, hard, pressing gently. She was gasping, maybe sobbing? No, happy laughter. His thighs were wet. Oh my god, she squirted again!
Helen was shivering, the aftershocks of her orgasm didn't fade for longer than she'd ever remembered. He's still in me. My pussy’s sore, but I've been well and truly fucked. By my son! I still can't believe... It's my son who gets me to those heights. Oh no, don't slip out, not yet... Ohhh.
She moaned as Mark’s cock slid out. He hadn't pulled it, it was like a muscle reflex on her part. She laughed nervously at the squishy noise it made. Mark rolled to his side, Louise propped herself on her elbows and looked at him.
"Oh you're fantastic, my gorgeous son. Oh, wait, eeeww. Wet and slimy. Grab that towel? Thanks."
She unceremoniously wiped the cum from her pussy, then attended to her son, smiling wickedly at him when she recognised squirt-juice on his legs. A thought occurred to her: "If I ran this ship I'd charge extra for people like us. I think we get fuck-juices on as many towels as we use for washing. You think they notice?"
"Maybe. I tipped the cabin steward though, gave her $200 and a big wink. She gets it..."
"Good thinking. Mark?"
"Yeah, mum. They were both laughing.
Your pussy gets squishy when you're really hot, but it never gets loose."
"Glad to hear that it popped back after you came out of it."
"Yeah! I still can't believe it. I've fucked my own mum."
"You've fucked her pussy more than once. And cum over her bum. Licked her pussy, cum in her mouth, watched her pee..."
Mark looked into her eyes, all sweetness and love reflected in them. He smiled, grinned.
"What are you grinning at, you little devil?"
"We're only half-way through the cruise."
Mother and son settled against each other and got lost in thought as they turned to watch the sunrise. The sea was calm, a few ripples, but no waves. They lay like that together for over an hour, until Helen went for a shower. Mark watched her hips swaying, she knew he was watching and without turning around she simply bent and showed him her hairy pussy, slapped herself on the arse, and walked away. She felt, rather than saw, his smile.
In a week they had gone from hardworking mother and son to i****tuous lovers. Mark ran his mum's words in his mind again: "You've fucked her pussy more than once. And cum over her bum. Licked her pussy, cum in her mouth, watched her pee..."
He shook his head. He knew real life, back home, would be different to before. Different to now. But he was looking forward to it, with her.
He took his turn in the shower while she dressed. She put a bikini on, under her beach wrap.
"Oh, no gym this morning?"
"Pussy’s too sore. I can't sit on that exercise bike today!"
He laughed with her, blushing a little at her reference to him having fucked her sore the night before.
Beyond their little balcony they saw Mystery Island sliding by. They would anchor off and catch a boat ashore. It was tiny, but had some of the world's best beachside snorkelling on the reefs.
Later that day, back on board, Helen asked Mark : "Level with me. How do you feel about me. Really."
"I love you, of course."
"I know, but, how?"
"I don't understand."
"OK. I love you, like a mother loves a son, but I love you like a lover too. See?"
"No."
"Um, well, those are different from how a husband loves a wife."
"Oh, I see. You want to know if I'm in love with you."
"Are you?"
"Will you be hurt if I said no?" He knew there was no place for semantics here.
"No, but I would be scared to death if you said yes."
"Same question, you with me?"
"No, son. I'm glad we're not 'in love' because all the while we can keep the three loves apart, we'll be OK."
"Mum?"
"Yes, darling ?"
"You're perfect. Wanna quick fuck?"
"Well, there's an hour before dinner. How can a girl refuse such an eloquent seduction?"
Mark pushed the joke further: "Jeez, woman! You want some dick or not?"
"Not!"
"Bullshit! Come here!"
Helen dodged, weaved, pretended to try to get away, all the time giggling and teasing him - pulling out one tit, showing her curved bum, running away again. Then she let him catch her. He playfully pulled her to the bed, sat, and pulled her over his knee.
"Don't you dare, Mark!" Smack! "No, stop!" Smack, smack! She could have got off him easily but didn't. She realised something new. Being spanked went straight to her nipples and pussy. It aroused her. As long as it was half-hearted, like this, and not cruel.
Mark pulled her bottoms down. Smack. "You nasty little bastard!" Smack "Oooh, baby. How could you..." Smack "Ow! Your own..." Smack" "...mother..."
"You hate it?"
"No."
Mark looked at the pink patches on her buttocks. He looked at the perfect curve, rubbed tenderly where he'd slapped her, then saw a tiny glistening trail inside her thigh. He collected it with his finger, making her shiver, and tasted it. She was dripping wet.
Mark slid his hand up her thigh, over her bottom, down her arse crack, pushed her butthole. She gasped.
"Oh Mark. You can do anything to me. Everything you do makes me horny."
His finger pressed, she winced. He folded his hand into her pussy. He put four fingers up her wet pussy, while he rubbed her reddened buttocks. Those four fingers were wider than his cock and stretched her. She groaned: "Oooh, yesss. More, darling ." Your hand”
"Mmmm. Mmmh. You're tearing me open."
Helen‘s hips pushed back automatically at the fist inside her. She felt it press, moaned when it twisted, but couldn't bear it any longer. c***dbirth had been a long time ago, and then she had been d**gged. She yanked herself forwards, away from the invading fist, and knelt on the bed. Mark needed no instruction. He pressed into her from behind, fucked hard and fast, watching her buttocks, now pink and angry, pulse in waves with his thigh-slapping thrusts.
Hers was quick, easy. She rose to a brief climax almost as soon as Joey entered her.
He wasn't long getting there either. It was short, desperate, needy, a few spurts and then it was done.
Now pushing gently, rocking against each other, Mark made a joke: "We're getting good at this. A few strokes...we cum... No need to mess about with foreplay!"
"You get that idea out of your head right now, young man! Quickies are good, longies are better."
"Er, 'longies'?"
"OK, I just made that up. Now get that thing out of me before I piss all over you."
She play-slapped his arm on the way to the bathroom. He wiped his cock on a tissue and lay back, one arm behind his head.
Through the main part of the cruise, port stops were every other day. They were tourists, friends, a couple; very proper in public.
Before they knew it, there were only two nights left before they got home. On the first of them, there was to be a big dance in the main ballroom. Mark marvelled at how beautiful she looked that night. Despite knowing every inch of her body, and most of her desires and secrets, she could still surprise him.
"Where the hell did you hide that?"
"Bought it yesterday. Cost more than I care to mention. Like it?"
Long, deep-sea blue. The dress clung to her breasts and hips, rounded her buttocks, then split from thighs to ankles. No strap, but her breasts would hold it up. Cleavage. Oh, and nipples.
"Are you wearing underwear?"
"Nope. I hope to drive some bloke wild, bring him back here and fuck the senses out of him."
"Oooh, Can I watch?"
"Play your cards right and it'll be you."
"Oh? And if I play my cards wrong?"
"Sandy's still aboard." The waitress at their favourite intimate bar.
He smiled at her tease. As they walked to the dance, along the swaying passageway, Mark said: "Just so you know. Dressed as you are, as beautiful as you are, if you smile at