A few words from Jayne.
I told you before the first two parts of this story that I wasn't sure whether I would go any further. That was because I wasn't sure whether I could pull off writing as my son Peter. So, I asked for your opinions. The comments and scores for parts 1 and 2 suggest that it worked and that you'd like to read more about how our affair, if that's what it was developed. Here goes.
Love,
Jayne x
Obviously, what had happened at the pool kept crashing around my brain all that night and the next day. I could hardly get the sight of my mum in the skimpy bikini and the feel of my hand on her hip out of my mind. And as for the kiss, the sensation of her great tits against my bare chest and my rigid cock pressed into her stomach well, they were almost too much to take. It had only lasted a short while, five minutes, maybe ten, fifteen at the most including the touches in the pool. But what a fifteen fucking minutes? They went beyond almost anything I had realistically imagined could or would ever happen between us. Okay, when I was wanking about her, which I did so often recently, like sometimes three times a day, we did most things two people can do together. But those fantasy thoughts, as arousing and climax inducing as they were for me, were nothing like the real thing.
Without any doubt what had happened in and by the pool had been the real thing. As our mouths met and our bodies moulded together, I was sure she'd weakened and that she was about to let me fuck her. She was acting just like the other birds I'd pulled, hard to get at first but then easy in the end; get them worked up a bit and they can hardly wait to get their knickers off and your cock inside them. I saw then, that my mum was just like any other woman.
But I was wrong and fuck it she wasn't like the other slags I'd had. Something suddenly broke the spell and she pulled away from me. One second, I was holding her gorgeous, mature body in my arms and the next they were empty and she was turning away from me telling me it was all due to the wine we'd drunk at lunch. In the end, I'd got nowhere other than back in my room alone, my cock in my hand jerking off thinking of what might have been and realising that she was vastly different to my other conquests..
But surely, my sexually and relationship immature mind thought, what had happened between us as meant something. Wasn't her slightly bloated mumtum, as she, not I, called it, welcoming my erection against it a sign? Wasn't her pressing those gorgeously full tits against my chest, telling me something? And the kiss? Oh my God that fucking kiss as we sucked each other's lips and tongued each other's mouth, wasn't that a sign, a signal and an invitation?
In short, the answer was no for almost as soon as our bodies were pressed together, she pulled back and stopped me. She blamed the drink at lunch that had caused her to act as she he had. Or so she said. But I knew, as I'd read it somewhere, that when you've had too much you act naturally so what she did, she really meant. So why the fuck did she stop? And, of course, she had a rational explanation. But then parents always have those and I didn't believe a fucking word of what she said. I was now convinced that she was well up for it and it was only a matter of time before I'd be burying my cock deep into my mum's cunt. And boy did I look forward to that.
But then, on the other hand, she'd had every opportunity this afternoon to do it. We were alone, Emily wasn't due home for hours, we were both in our swim gear, we'd loosened up with the wine at lunch and she'd broken the ice of sex between us. And, of course amazingly, wonderfully and so fucking awesomely we'd kissed and I was about to pull her bra down and get my hand into her knickers when she pulled the fucking shutters down and pushed me away.
Naturally, I sulked for the rest of the afternoon and evening and pretty much stayed in my room looking at porn on my laptop imagining what might have been. The next morning mum and Emily were off somewhere shopping and I went to the gym. In the afternoon, seeing her laid out on a sun bed wearing the tiniest little fucking bikini as though she were just waiting for me to climb on top of her, was a fucking nightmare. Well, it was lovely looking at her but it made me want her so much that I was hard most of the time. That is until I sculked off to my room a couple of times and pulled one off although nowadays that didn't keep me soft for long. Nobody fully warns you of the difficulties of being a male teenager, do they?
We stayed in for dinner and Emily, whose house in Marbella we were staying at, came home and joined us for the pasta mum had cooked. I spruced myself up, had a shower, sprayed myself with cologne thinking that might act as some form of aphrodisiac to mum or, failing that Emily, who I also quite fancied and put on a pair of new, white shorts and a blue tee.
Dinner was a wonderful hell. Wonderful, as Emily flirted playfully with me and hell because mum's tits seemed to be almost falling out of her low-cut top and were leering temptingly at me all evening. Mum and I didn't say much to each other but several times our bare knees touched under the table, just as they had that time in my bedroom at home about a year ago when I began to seriously think we might have sex one day. As we were drinking our strong espressos, they touched again and I didn't move mine away assuming she would as she had before. But she didn't and we sat there having knee sex as I thought of it. I put my bare foot on her ankle and rubbed my toe on it and again she didn't move away. I thought, and of course hoped, that the few times mum arched her back and pushed her lovely tits forward that she was sending a sort of invitation to me. A couple of times I nearly accepted it as I found myself almost reaching out and grabbing them. But, of course, having been brought up properly, I didn't and instead tried leering at them as inconspicuously as possible. However, a couple of times I wasn't inconspicuous enough as she caught me staring and our eyes met.
Around ten, I had almost decided to chuck it in and go to bed. We'd moved outside and were by the pool not far from where we'd kissed. Naturally, we were drinking but not heavily and I was on beer rather than wine as I found that went to my head so quickly. Looking at the two women in their skimpy clothing with their long tanned legs and tits all over the place, regrettably not nearly as bare as the legs, got to me and I got hard. That was a state I was getting used to on this holiday as I seemed to have almost permanent hard-ons almost whenever I was around them. And of course, when I got up to get another beer and a bottle of wine for them, mum saw it. Nothing was said but her eyes gliding slowly up and down me, focusing on the bulge and returning to hold my gaze for a few moments was enough to convince me that she knew that I was erect and that there could only be one reason for that.
I'd been in bed about half hour and hadn't yet wanked nor turned the low bedside light off when there was a tap at the door. Thinking that it might be Emily as her flirting had got stronger and she had been making eyes at me as the evening had gone on, I left just the sheet lying across me showing the shape of my erection thinking if that's what she wants, it's hers. But it wasn't her, it was mum. My first reaction was to move the sheet so my hard-on wouldn't show but mum said.
"Don't worry love, I've just come to say goodnight."
"Oh great," I replied my mind going mad speculating if that was the real reason or if there was another. And of course, very ambitiously, that included whether she might be here to have sex.
"But speak quietly Peter, we don't want Em hearing us, do we?" she asked raising my hopes even more.
"No, no I guess not," I stammered looking closer at her in the dim light. She was wearing a lacy, mid-thigh length, dark, though I couldn't tell what colour, nightdress; she looked fabulous and so eminently fuckable. My hopes almost went through the roof at the sight and the fact that she was here. They were raised even more when she sat on the edge of the bed with her bum pressing against my leg just above my knee and the hem of her nighty right up at the top of her thighs. Feeling that part of her body against mine was, by itself, a massive turn on and I pushed back against her loving it that she didn't move.
My hopes were now roaring up the Richter Scale and were full matched by my ambition. In those few brief moments I had convinced myself that we would, at last, fuck and that was boosted even further when she took hold of my hand and held it against her upper thigh and whispered.
"I told you there were other ways didn't I Peter?"
"Yes mum, er Jayne," I whispered back, "yes you did," I went on not really knowing what the fuck she was talking about. She'd got me so worked up especially with her clearly unfettered tits just inches from my eyes, her hands on mine and both of them on her bare leg right up near her pussy that I was imagining was bare.
Leaning forward so that her tits almost fell out of her nightdress, she kissed me on the cheek then moved her head back a few inches so that our eyes were level and our gazes were locked. Naturally I couldn't hold her stare because the sight just a little further downwards was so amazing. Unashamedly looking down the front of her nightdress I could see their fullness right up to and including her nipples and the round pink things with little bumps on them that surrounded them. And what a fucking sight that was.
"Well this is one of them darling," she whispered huskily leaving me totally confused.
