Keeping It Real In Madrid

All characters engaging in sexual activity are 18+

The author considers the themes within this story the same as if you were reading a murder mystery. It is not to condone the themes, which along with the characters, are pure fiction.

Please enjoy my latest tale, with a follow up in progress I hope to expand it, Your feedback and ideas are welcome.

This story takes place in 2020/21, around the time when one could be locked up in isolation at the mere sight of a positive Covid test.

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Watching his mother help his dad take off his scarf and light coat after the Real Madrid match, sat in his electric wheelchair, Joe Johnston couldn't help but see in through the hanging gape of the white hotel bathrobe Fiona wore. It hid her body, thickened by motherhood and the comfortable lifestyle that Keith, her husband and father to their children, had provided her with. Fiona, being full time carer now, as Keith's construction firm continued to fund their life, thanks to the compensation that he received, following the incident that caused almost complete paralyses. He had been working on the roof of a new build, when his harness that had been tested the week before, broke, sending Keith falling to the ground.

Her only son, Joe, had been a tower of strength, eventually convincing Fiona to allow him to help her more, in particular, helping with the more embarrassing tasks for Keith. Joe soon learned that nothing bonds a father and son like lifting his penis to wash underneath it in the shower several times a week......Keith had more than once mentioned to him that he wished the building had been higher, and the resulting fall had killed him, rather than being completely dependant on his wife and child.

It was hard for Joe to see his mother in this way, he spent as much time with her as his time allowed, being a father himself and a husband to Claudia, both of whom were also present on this trip to see Real Madrid play. Keith often did this, booking weekends away with his speech directed computer software, for things on his Bucket-List, things that usually lead to extra hassle for Fiona, but she loved her husband, never moaning.

This evening, however, his mother looked different, it wasn't the pink, one piece swimsuit that covered her buxom, curvy body, underneath the white robe. It wasn't even the sight of her in just her one piece at the hotel pool, watching her bend to give Keith a drink or seeing her wobble when getting out of the pool with a look of her creamy white cleavage on show. It was, in all probability, due to the fact that for the first time that very afternoon, Joe had fucked his mother's brains out.

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Tension had been building for up to six months, as the harsh reality of Keith's new normal set in. That first (previous) year had been new and hard, horrendously so, as the couple battled through surgery, physio and anything else that money could buy, to help with Keith's injuries to his neck. Now into the second year, covid had hit and put everyone into lock down, leaving the couple quite isolated. Now as restrictions eased, Fiona had began to help Joe with a course he had to do for work, with both of them being trained paramedics. Joe had turned 30 and she had been a senior for 10 years, but now at 47, her skills and knowledge lay dormant as she tended to her husband's 24/7 needs.

Joe called regularly, and he called round one evening each week just to study, with his expert mother breaking it down into idiot sized chunks.

One evening, Fiona started a trend of answering the door in her pyjamas, a non-sexy, light grey top with black bottoms, long sleeves and legs kept most of her skin covered. What was harder to hide, however, was the motherly curves of her tummy that her breasts were relaxing over, and as she sat before her laptop at the table, she did something that she probably had done a number of times and Joe hadn't noticed, but seeing as it was just his Mum and him, with his dad in bed, plus the fact Joe hadn't had any sex in over a week as his wife was on her period, the sight of Fiona lifting her braless, 36dd breasts in her hands and setting them on the table to allow her in closer, made Joe rather uneasy, as with every piece of information she imparted, every time she showed him something on her screen, the main takeaway of the evening was the sight of her impressive, unrestrained bust in the PJ top.

She didn't do it every week, sometimes dressed in Jeans, displaying her curvy ass which was objectively nice, but those nights when she would just be in her loungewear, never cheap with her tits hanging out, but just the sight of them hanging, then being hefted up to rest on the table, one could forgive the son for taking notice of the two medium-large sized torpedoes that rested just short of the laptop that he was supposed to be focusing on, especially in the cooler night that had her nipples piercing through, after she greeted Joe at the front door, her hardened nubs sitting at 'Twenty to Four' on her relaxed chest, being an added memory for those nights.

This went out of Joe's mind through the week, sex with his wife was plentiful, a beautiful blonde called Lucy who was waiting on him coming home that very first night, after her period had ended. She was fresh from the shower in white panties and a red camisole, she couldn't have said, "I'm Ready," anymore, other than with a neon sign.

Then, just one week to the end of season trip to see Keith's beloved Real Madrid, a glint in his mother's eye was present, one that Joe hadn't noticed since Keith's accident. She was dressed differently that night too, in a silken robe, white in colour and tied under her tits, that he noticed on more than one occasion as they leaned in to look at the laptop, were encased in a black lace bra. As she seemed quite giddy, he asked her what had gotten into her, with her making more than one innuendo during his nightly visit.

"I don't think you want to know," she answered his enquiries with a reddening face, which Joe duly challenged her on. "Let's just say.....it's not what's gotten into me but, I certainly hope something will."

Joe didn't want to know about his Mother's sex life, which following her mentioning it, he realised just how problematic it must now be for them, to say the least. Try as he might to stop himself, he felt his mouth open to ask a question that would have otherwise left him wondering for all eternity, "Mum....how does it....you know...can Dad perform?"

Jumping up, and treating it entirely clinical with her son, Fiona ran to get a cardboard box about 9 inches long, set it down in front of her and opened it, showing a clear, cylindrical object with a pump on the end. It was immediately clear what it was for, 'My mother will be getting some tonight,' Joe thought, as they both examined the pump, weirdly. Joe joked that he would need a bigger one than the 6 inch of sausage meat it advised on the instruction leaflet. His Mum laughed it off, and as he could see her excitement, Joe made his excuses and left, uneasy with the knowledge he had just harvested. Sex wasn't even on the cards at home that night, with Lucy asleep when he got home

The next night when Joe just called to say hello, Fiona had seemed crestfallen. Obviously Joe didn't ask how the sex had went, but from her sullen demeanour, it probably wasn't good. He hugged his Mum as he left, Fiona savoured the hold, with arms around her taller son, the big, strong arms reminding her of how her husband used to handle her. When her son asked her, "You let me know if there's anything I can ever do for you," she thought of last night's failed attempts at sex and thought, 'No, son. Sadly not."

Viva es Spain

Day 1

Joe had been somewhat hampered on the very first of four days in Spain. They had taken his Dad out to give his Mum some respite, and whilst playing football with his son, he had twisted his ankle on one of those trees that have a round grill around the bottom, indented into the footpath, except this one didn't and he tripped into it. He lay low that evening, just coming down for dinner with the family as the medical centre had told him to rest it.

Day 2

Next morning, he had not joined his wife and child for a shopping trip either, electing to stay in the hotel room and lick his wounds, around the pool. "Bye, have fun," was whispered between the small, young family of three, in no small part due to the lack of any noise from the adjoining room door to suggest Fiona and Keith were awake. What Joe didn't know, however, was that on the other side, his mother and father were waiting for their neighbours to vacate the room for play time.

Sex with aid of the penis pump and accompanying cock-ring had been successful, in the sense that Keith's penis could be hard enough to enter Fiona's pre-lubed vagina, but that morning, as the neighbouring door closed and she said, "I thought they'd never leave," they both had more nerves than sexual arousal.

The first thing Joe heard as he lay on his bed in silence, reading a report on a major incident back home that he'd have been involved in, had he not been on holiday, was his mother's words of, "I love your mouth on my boobs so much," as she straddled her husband's abdomen whilst feeding her breasts into his mouth, both of the parents were completely naked.

Sucking and licking, Keith enjoyed watching his wife throw her head back, as he administered the one sexual act that he could, that got her off every time.

"Oh Keith, oh keep doing that," she breathed as she gripped his wrists, bringing his hands to to her breasts and saying, "You like those in your hands too, baby?"

Joe had heard them having sex before, with Keith absolutely destroying his mother with slaps and schlucking sounds leading to her loud orgasm. There would be no orgasm this morning, just a sucking of air as the pump brought Keith to life, then a groan of pleasure as Fiona placed her vaginal opening over his tip, and holding it firmly upright, she sat down and took him in her hole.

"Oh god that's so good, what can you feel?" Was not the sexual abandonment that Joe had heard before. This wasn't arousing for Joe, he wasn't beating his meat whilst listening to his mother, he could tell the difference, oddly, between the cries of the past as she lost herself, compared to these more clinical, false, "Oh baby, I'm close....oh god, oh yes.....ahhhhhh."

Then it was over, no grunts from Keith as his wife got off and lay beside him, with Keith sadly unable to climax anymore.

Laying there with her husband, Fiona was happy in the sense that she could again share her body with her husband, whilst also feeling bad about her private thoughts. Thoughts that she considered best hidden, about her own sexual frustrations not being satisfied. But still, Keith was still here. It could have been all so much worse, what sacrifice is a throbbing, thick penis being drilled into her and delivering thick ropes of sperm, compared to still having her spouse?

Having heard the whole thing, Joe was torn, as the thought of his mother having unsatisfying sex, was still thoughts of his mother having sex. Unlike all those years ago, it certainly didn't repulse him, but it made him a little sad that she was doing all the work, and he couldn't get her out of his mind, bouncing on top of Keith's pretty lifeless body, getting nothing back in return. He had seen her in her bathing suit, her round tummy that comes from being a middle aged, settled and reasonably wealthy woman, supporting the breasts that had nourished him, and now challenged the confines of her pink one piece. Joe couldn't help but think, 'There is a fine woman going wanting in there when she shouldn't be."

Then he heard movement, as Fiona and Keith realised the time, that their daughter would be coming for him to go out for the afternoon with her and her young daughter, ahead of the day at the Bernabeau, tomorrow.

Voices were heard, and Joe remained silent as he heard the hustle and bustle of everything involved with getting a man into his wheelchair with help of a motorised sling.

Then there was silence, deathly so as Fiona was left alone to relax, as the daughter knew just how good the woman was to her father. With the room to herself, and the silent, as she thought vacated, room next door, Fiona had plans for her free time, plans that were at the bottom of her suitcase, hidden inside a wash bag and was about 7 inches long, pink, and vibrated.

Laying back with her legs in the air, the blonde woman teased herself, bringing the buzzing phallus down her thighs, then up and lightly through her intimate flower. "Ahhhh," was the first noise Joe heard that confirmed that the buzzing was not an electric toothbrush, "huuuh...ahhhhh," she breathed again and again, stroking in and out, building her internal burning candle as if adding fuel, rubbing her clit and her hairy pubic mound as she fucked herself with her favourite toy. "Oh yes, right there, oh Keith oh....oh...."

Joe couldn't deny it, his vision of his mother naked was evolving, he had enjoyed listening to her get herself off, so much so that his sleep shorts were getting tight as he tried to poke his way out of them. He was just about to take matters into his own hands, when the impending orgasm from the woman next room, changed to sobs and tears, as Fiona became overwhelmed with everything from the past two years, the lack of sexual gratification too was beginning to hurt if this was the best it would ever be.

Sobs turned to great giant hysterical walls, as she sat in her bed, still naked but for an unsecured white robe. Joe was beside himself, wanting to help her but not knowing if it was creepy to have been in the next room while she fucked, then masturbated. Mulling all of this over, five minutes later he decided to be a good son, and knowing that the door between the two rooms remained unlocked in case of emergency, he gently knocked before going on through, to find her brushing her hair out before going in for a shower, Fiona looked at Joe from the mirror, opposite the internal door, immediately pulling her robe over her body, saying, "I thought you were out," as her face showed off her clear embarrassment.

"I just got back, my ankle got sore," he tried to delay the timeline of his listening in.

Looking at him through tearful eyes, Fiona and Joe gazed at one and other, before a wordless conversation between eyes agreed for him to do what he did next, striding up behind his mother's back, and giving her a hug around her naturally thickened waist.

Be it maternal in the strong arms of her son, everything felt better for Fiona, having his thick arms around her, and his hairy chest rustling against the thin fabric on her back.

He was like his father in that sense, hairy arms and legs, and a back that needed waxing every few weeks or he looked like a yeti, and as the thick, dark hair prickled her skin on her hands as she gripped his bare arms that engulfed her. She continued to sob as blissful memories of the past flooded her, as well as basking in the strong, masculine arms of her son where she stood, just crying and bringing her hands to his forearms and crossing them over her stomach for extra comfort, just under her hanging melons that his hands were now keeping covered by her robe.

They didn't speak, what seemed like ten minutes passed, "I love you," was the first thing spoken, as Fiona caressed his forearms, both feeling the heat between his chest and her back, such was the climate in Madrid.

"Talk to me," Joe breathed into Fiona's ear, as both of them enjoyed the closeness, "What were all those tears about?"

"Just getting old, being silly. Think it must be the heat," she tried to brush it off with her usual, unflappable chirp. Joe wasn't buying it, taking care to miss her breasts, he reached for her face and stroked at her tears that were still seeping from the corner of her eyes in the mirror.

"It didn't sound like you were being silly," Joe lovingly said, as Fiona's eyes snapped open, slightly startled.

"What all did you hear?" She asked, suddenly feeling quite vulnerable, just dressed in a thin robe.

Thinking hard, Joe thought about lying to help ease the potentially Awkward realisation, but eventually decided to open up by saying, "I heard a woman doing everything for her man."

"Oh god."

"And then," he continued, stroking down her side to her tummy, where she gripped his hand again, "I heard a woman have some time to herself. We all do it, now and again."

She was mortified at knowing her son had heard her sexual exploits, both with her husband and solo, and soon her tears were overwhelming her again. Wiping her face with the palms of both hands, she looked back at her son who had dropped his gaze, and as she looked down to her chest, she too saw the inside curves of both breasts, as her tits had escaped in her moving neckline, caused with her cupping her face, and her two large mountains of flesh had peeped out when she put them down again.

"I miss him so much, even though he's still here. Does that make me a bad person?" she said, securing her robe but accidentally trapping Joe's right hand near her left hip, underneath the material.

"No, You deserve to feel good," Joe said, tracing his fingers to her bellybutton, essentially in no-man's land with it, between breasts and the naked vagina that he hadn't been able to see in the smallish mirror, as he widened his circle on her skin.

"Joe...you shouldn't be...."

"Sssshhh, it's ok," he reassured her with a stroke of his fingers to the underside of her breast. "What is it that you miss?"

"Joe...."

"Tell me, tell me what you miss," Fiona heard, while also feeling his fingers around her side, his palm on her bare stomach and his thumb just nudging the underside of her mammary.

Her heart rate increased, she placed her hands on top of his, on the one exposed over her robe, and the other one under it, holding her son's hand as they looked in the mirror to collude in the notion that she wasn't raising her son's hand to her left breast. "I miss him holding me like this," she breathed, as Joe now took the bottom swell of weight in his big hand.

The robe was now secured by her own enfolding left arm, her hand now holding her son's hand, dormant outside the material whilst it's match stroked and held her boob. It started to caress her, and whenever he asked her to describe what else she missed, his hand on her nipple made her gasp, they both knew what he would do next when she said, "I miss not having to make myself cum."

Joe didn't speak, but as he lowered his free hand to cup her pussy, she sharply inhaled, as even over the material of her robe, he felt the indent of her slit that he just brushed down and then back up a few times, before he zoned in on her clit that was now fully erect, meaning that the only protestations were a, "JOE!" and a tighter grip on the hand that she had held, all the way down to her sex.

She wanted to stop him, knowing how wrong this was, whilst also buckling as the dual pleasure he was giving her, made her overrule herself. He did not try to kiss her neck, though she did wish he would as his breath was on it, and they kept their eyes on each other in the mirror, as if pretending that nothing was happening down below.

Joe felt her shake, a tremor that had him holding her up for a moment, pressing her back against him as he held her by the vagina and tit. But he didn't stop, securing her tightly, he continued to rub her clit whilst not daring to venture underneath the robe, not trusting himself to stop if he exposed her naked vagina.

Fiona could feel it coming on, waves of pleasure were coming from her nipple down to her clit that was also being pleasured, and she wanted nothing more than to pull her robe off, feel his hairy chest on her back as he stroked her pussy.