Copyright © August 2020 by CiaoSteve
CiaoSteve reserves the right to be identified as the author of this work. This story cannot be published, as a whole or in part, without the express agreement of the author other than the use of brief extracts as part of a story review.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
Author's Notes
Foreword #1: All sexually active characters in this story are over 18.
Foreword #2: This is a story and intended purely for pleasure.
Foreword #3: The author does not condone incest, whether consensual or not.
Foreword #4: This is an entry for the Summer Lovin' competition. I hope you enjoy it. If you feel like leaving a vote, I would appreciate it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A sound from the kitchen grabbed Steve's attention. He looked around from his spot on the sofa, at just the right time to watch the leggy blonde bend over at the waist, hair cascading down as she rummaged in a low cupboard. His eyes followed her legs upwards, the short skirt revealing a firm ass and the merest glimpse of black panties as it rode up at the back.
"Mum?" he proclaimed, a confused look on his face as if to say... what are you up to now, or perhaps it was... do you really need to show me your panties in the kitchen?
"Come on Stevie, you're not gonna stay inside on a day like this," his mother replied as she stood up again, a hand swishing her hair back into place.
It was true, here we were on the hottest day of the year, the sun beating down on our pleasant tranquil isle. But it was also true what they said you know; about only mad dogs and Englishmen being the ones to go out in the midday sun. Stevie so didn't want to upset his mum, but he sure wasn't much of a sun worshiper. There again, he hadn't seen his mum so happy in a long time. In fact, he hadn't remembered his old mum since Dad died. She used to be the life and soul of the party, the ever-dependable Mum, there with a laugh and a joke, or a hug if you were feeling down.
Stevie loved his mum, more than he could ever tell her—that just wouldn't be the right thing for a strapping nineteen-year-old rugby player, would it? --and he didn't want to disappoint her. Oh, and yes, he so wanted to tell her that Stevie didn't quite fit his hard-man image. Well, at least on the pitch he took the macho line, but in real life Stevie, or Steve as he much preferred, was a bit of an introvert sort of character.
"Must we?"
"Sure, Stevie. It's such a nice day, I thought we'd go for a picnic."
A picnic? Steve racked his brains. Oh yes, he knew what a picnic was, and had pleasant memories of the three of them—Mum, Dad, and him—usually on the beach with bottles of pop and sandwiches galore. Steve smiled, a memory suddenly filling his mind of soggy lettuce, wilted in the midday sun, runny cheese and yes, some of those sarnies were just a little more
sand
-wich than others. He missed his dad, just as much as he loved his mum.
That day, four years back, had come as a shock for both. All his mum would say was that Dad had died a hero. He was a fireman, and we all knew it would only be a matter of time before there was a knock at the door. We all hoped it would be somebody else's door that they came knocking on or, if it had to be yours, that the news would be more positive.
If you were lucky, it would be a case of smoke inhalation, a night or two under observation and then he would be back with us. Even the thought of a more serious injury was better than the definitive news we had received. Steve wasn't there at the time, but the look on his mum's face as he got back from school said it all.
Since then, he had been the man of the house and had done all he could to support through those darkest of days, and beyond. The two of them had become much closer over the years, and other than the twenty or so years difference in age, they would have made a perfect couple. Steve was the light in his mother's eye and Lizzi, or Lisbeth to give her formal name, was the mother he adored.
"But it will take forever to get to the coast," Stevie responded, glancing up at his Mother.
It was a fatal mistake. Was it her Scandinavian appearance, the pale skin, long blonde locks, and piercingly blue eyes? Was it her innocent beauty, the way her cheeks dimpled as she smiled back at him? Whatever it was, it worked every time, Steve's heart melting as he stared back at Lizzie's face.
Steve could imagine his father falling for her in just the same way. Back then his father had just joined the fire service, whilst Lizzie was spending a year or two travelling before thinking about the rest of her life. She had a job as an au pair for a well-off family, looking after a young child. It was only meant to be a stopgap, Lizzie told herself, but that was twenty years ago. The man of her dreams, and then her own darling son, put pay to any idea of going back to Norway.
Put pay? Well, she still held dreams of watching those northern lights twinkle away on the horizon, but that was one for the future. For now, though, it was a picnic which was on her mind, and watching lights of another kind. Lizzie smiled back at Steve.
"Come on. I've got it all packed; ham, salmon, cheese, freshly baked baguette, and even some of those sausage rolls you like. Oh, and I've had a bottle of fizz chilling in the fridge. Be a darling and go get it."
"But where are you planning to go, Mum?"
"You'll see. It's not far."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
An hour or so later, a silver hatchback pulled into a busy car park. People milled around, some coming and some going, but all staring out at the view across the city. From the vantage point high up on the hillside, a grassy plain ran down as far as the eye could see, supplying an uninterrupted view of the metropolis down below. By now, it was late afternoon, but still there were many enjoying the sunshine.
Lizzie was the first to get out of the parked car, rummaging around in the boot as Steve joined her.
"What do you think?" she asked, grabbing the wicker picnic basket and a rolled-up blanket.
"Bit busy, isn't it?" Steve responded, glancing out over the grassy banks.
"Here... for sure. But there's a secret place which not so many know about."
"A secret?"
"Yes. Follow me... you'll see."
Instead of heading out onto the grassy bank, Lizzie walked off into the nearby woods. Had his mum gone mad, and planned to have a picnic in the shade of the trees? For sure that would be quieter, especially on a balmy summer day like this. For a moment, Steve just stood and watched as Lizzie disappeared into the trees.
There was something about his mum. For a forty-something she had one hell of a figure. He couldn't help but watch her loose-hanging short skirt sway as she walked, long toned legs more like those of an athlete than a mother. It wasn't just the legs. A narrow waist, the cutest pert breasts making tiny mounds in her thin top, and those blonde locks, Lizzie had it all. Twenty years younger, and not his mother, then Steve himself may have made a pass.
He could well imagine how his father could not resist.
The only strange thing was why Lizzie hadn't moved on. He wouldn't have blamed her for wanting new love. Forty-something is still young in anyone's books. Steve had seen them, friends, colleagues, and total strangers, all passing the eye over her. Surely there had to be one, or two, who fitted the bill. Somebody to make her happy in the years ahead, somebody to fill the gap when Steve himself found his true love and fled the nest. Okay, so that wasn't exactly on the cards yet, but it was only a case of not being in the right place at the right time. Steve told himself repeatedly that his heart's desire would come to him rather than him going looking for her. At nineteen though, there was plenty of time for him to be found.
"You coming?" came a soft voice from somewhere within the trees.
Moments later, the two of them appeared out from the thicket of trees and onto their own private viewpoint. A grassy platform, shallow sloping at first before falling steeply down, ran out in front of them. Unlike the main picnic area, this was much more secluded. An elderly couple, a young family and the two of them were the only occupants of this oasis of tranquillity. As soon as Steve and Lizzie arrived, the older couple left. It was obviously getting a little crowded for their liking.
Lizzie found a perfect spot, as far away from the young family as possible but still with a great view out over the city. She rolled out the picnic rug and sat down. Steve, on the other hand, just stood there near the edge of the grassy platform staring down towards the distant city. He always wondered just how such a concrete jungle could look so mesmerising. He was so taken in by the view that he barely registered the voice from behind.
"Come on, Stevie. It'll still be there at the end of the evening, and I promise this will be the best picnic you've ever had."
Steve turned around sharply. Suddenly his view switched to the most enticing spread he had ever seen. Laid out in front of him was a virtual smorgasbord of food, but that wasn't what grabbed his attention. Instead of the culinary delights, his eyes landed again on those black panties, his mother's short skirt having draped open as she sat there with her knees raised and legs innocently spread apart. Once more he shook the view out of his mind and joined her on the picnic rug.
She had great legs, and they
were
pretty little panties. Even if the legs splayed view suggested a sense of plump lips underneath, it was not like his mum meant anything by it. She probably didn't even realise the view her son was getting, and even if she did, it wasn't any different to the way she would walk around the house in her lingerie most mornings as she got herself dressed. Lizzie wasn't exactly backwards in coming forwards. Maybe it was down to her Scandinavian character. It wasn't like she would run around the place naked, but at the same time she did have a natural confidence in her own body. Steve had gotten used to it. Embarrassing it might have been at times—after all you don't really want to be ogling your own mother, however beautiful she might be—but he had accepted that this was her way.
Steve sat himself down on the empty middle of the blanket, Lizzie on one side of him and the picnic on the other. For all he had reservations about the idea of a picnic with his mother, there was something rather relaxing about the two of them being out here. Yes, there was the distant noise of families enjoying a late afternoon, but that's all it was, a background soundtrack to their oasis of calm.
It was the serenity of it all which had the biggest impact, as the two of them enjoyed their food. Had it been an hour, or maybe two? How long it had been didn't seem to matter any more. By the time they had finished eating, there was already a redness on the horizon as evening neared. Steve glanced around. They were all alone, the young family having made an unseen departure some time earlier. His attention turned back to the distance, then to his mother, then back again to the slowly reddening skyline.
"Do you like it?" Lizzie asked, smiling down at her son as he stared out into the distance.
"Sure, Mum," Steve replied. "It's... it's... so pretty... the way the sunset sets the city on fire. How did you know about this place?"
"I'll tell you later," Lizzie replied, "but only after you pass me another glass of that fizz."
"But, Mum, you've gotta drive back," Steve responded, a worried look on his face.
"Don't worry. It's low alcohol, and I'm not planning on going right away. Now, if you won't get it for me, I guess I'll have to do it myself."
Steve just lay there and watched as Lizzie, in slow motion, rolled herself over. She wrapped one leg across his as she shuffled closer, then leant across his manly body, an arm reaching out for the bottle. Once again, he didn't mean to, but where was a young man meant to look? As she reached over him, Lizzie's loose top hung down.
It wasn't like he had much of a choice but to glance inside, but having done so, he couldn't help but keep looking. The view he had was not one of black sexy lingerie, lacy bra matching her cute panties. Oh, no! Steve found himself staring at a perfectly pert pair of breasts, dangling down in front of him, pale skin topped with surprisingly large nipples. It was only the reverse movement of his mother, bottle in hand, which snapped him out of his transfixed state. Quickly, Steve flicked his gaze back to the horizon. Lizzie was his mum, and he could hardly have her see the way he was staring at her naked breasts.
"I can see you
