One for the contest schedule. Margot and her son find a nudist beach, which leads to the mother's desire to have her pussy shaved. Who's going to help her? What happens after?
I hope you enjoy the piece. If you do, vote for it in the story contest by clicking the stars below. Send feedback if you like. Feedback can be given in public comments below, by PM on Lit forums, or email. If you want a response, email is best.
I've re-read this a few times and 'corrected' as I went - there are probably errors that remain; if there are I hope they don't detract from the overall enjoyment.
All characters depicted are above the age of 18.
GA - Cancun, Mexico - 13th June 2012.
He dropped the used razor into the bowl of water and looked up from his handiwork. His mother smiled. Picking up the fresh towel he dabbed the corner into the water and then wiped the residual mess of shaving foam from her smooth vulva.
Margot Barry looked at her son. She smirked and said, 'We really shouldn't be doing this, Mark.'
He let the used towel drop onto the floor by the bed. 'No Mum,' he said in a voice constricted with emotion and desire, 'and I shouldn't do this either ...' And he pressed his mouth to her smoothness.
'Oh, Mark ... Oh, that's so naughty, licking your mother's pussy. You bad, wicked boy.'
She pushed her fingers through her son's hair and pulled his face harder against her body. She sighed and caressed the back of his head while he slurped and slobbered between her legs. Margot groaned as his hot breath wafted across her newly depilated skin. She sighed and crooned endearments while his quick tongue slid over her clitoris.
'God, Mark. What are you doing to me? I shouldn't be feeling like this. My own son shouldn't be doing this ... I shouldn't be letting you ...'
Mark pulled his face away from his mother's opening. He opened his mouth to speak but Margot snarled an objection. Through gritted teeth, her face distorted with lust and longing, she added, 'But I love it. Keep doing it, darling. Keep licking me. Finger me. You're going to make me come.'
The events of the day before/Margot's nudity:
The holiday had been his idea, a treat for his mother's forty-fifth birthday -- fourteen nights on the Spanish island of Gran Canaria.
They discovered the beach in front of the shifting sand dunes of Maspalomas apparently by accident. Walking along the beach Margot had spluttered, 'Good Lord, Mark ... That man's naked ...'
'I think,' Mark began slowly, 'that this is a nudist beach, Mum.' He affected a nonchalant air and looked around. He nodded. 'Yep, has to be a nudist beach.'
Margot gasped. 'It doesn't seem to be compulsory though.' She peered over her sunglasses. 'Some people have costumes on ...'
Mark turned to his mother, the water at his back. 'Do you want to go back the way we came, back to the hotel? You could get some sun by the pool.'
Margot hurriedly waved these suggestions away. 'No, I don't really mind.' She emitted a rich chuckle. 'It was just a surprise to see that man ...' She snorted a laugh and hid her mouth behind one hand. 'I wasn't sure if he was naked or not at first. His belly was so big and so low I couldn't see anything. Not that there was much to see,' Margot suppressed a snort and held a crooked pinkie finger aloft. 'Talk about tiny ...'
Behind his Oakleys Mark blushed. 'Mum,' he hissed. 'Please ...'
'Oh, come on, Mark,' Margot said. She gave her son's arm a gentle push. 'I'm only mucking about.' She pointed into the distance, parallel to the shore. 'Let's go on a bit more. We could find a nice spot. Somewhere quiet where we can relax. Did you bring your book?'
He sighed. 'Yes, Mother, I brought my book ... And the sandwiches ... And some fruit ... And the water ...' Mark hefted the bag on his shoulder and gestured forward. 'After you.'
They found a suitable spot and Margot set up their temporary encampment. She spread two towels along the sand after checking the angle of the sun high above. Next she unpacked provisions, keeping the bottled water in the shade of the bag. Finally she removed her wide-brimmed sun hat, unbuttoned the long-sleeved, diaphanous blouse and slid out of her safari shorts.
In her bikini, Margot settled face-down on a towel. 'This is the life. 'Warm sun on my skin, my thoughtful son at my beck and call ...'
Alongside his mother, Mark leaned on one elbow 'It's your birthday, Mum.' He lifted the book and showed it to his mother. 'Anything you want before I get into this?'
Margot turned her face towards him and, with her cheek against the towel she said, 'Could you just rub lotion onto my back? I managed everywhere else back in my room, but I couldn't reach those awkward spots right round ....' She signalled vaguely behind her and then flicked a finger towards the bag. 'The lotion's in there.'
Mark reached for the bottle. He drizzled gloop onto his mother's pale skin and began to rub it in. 'OK?'
'One last thing. I don't want strap-marks, could you just undo the bikini strap?'
'Sure,' he said and undid the catch. 'There, Mum, all done.'
Mark picked up his book and Margot closed her eyes. She sighed as the Atlantic waters gently sloughed a lullaby of soft, susurration a few yards away. The sun warmed her skin and melted the sun oil to beads of oily perspiration that trickled down her flanks.
'This is lovely. Absolutely gorgeous, she said. 'The sun is so warm! No wonder all those people come down here naked.' Margot hefted herself onto one elbow facing her son.
Margot sat up and reached for the water bottle. She unwound the cap and tilted the bottle to her mouth.
'Ah,' she said, and wiped her mouth with the back of a hand. 'Want some?'
Mark kept his eyes on the page and shook his head at the proffered bottle.
'You know,' Margot said slowly as she recapped the bottle and set it in its groove in the sand. 'I might just give it a try myself.'
Mark's head jerked up. He looked through his sunglasses at his mother's face. 'Give what a try?'
Margot shrugged. 'Like them ...' Her head jerked in the direction of the sunbathers clumped along the beach. '... In the nuddy. Get back to nature ...'
Mark shifted, discomfort showing on his face. 'Er, Mum ... Do you really want to do that?'
Margot pondered for a moment as though considering the options; Mark saw her face brighten suddenly.
'Bugger it,' she said and grinned. Margot rose. 'I'm going to bloody well do it.'
Mark concentrated on his book but was still aware of her proximity. He stole a glance at her and saw she had her back to him. As he watched, his mother hooked her fingers into the bikini briefs and slid them down her legs.
'There,' Margot said. She sighed and tilted her face to the sun. 'That feels so nice. I think I'll go for a swim.'
Tiny clouds of white sand puffed under Margot's feet as she hip-swayed the short distance away from Mark towards the water.
He watched his mother's buttocks jiggle as she moved. His stare grew hungry and he licked his lips. Quietly he muttered, 'Shit,' and forced his eyes to the print on the page. Mark kidded himself that he didn't find his mother's nudity disturbing.
A short time later Margot returned. Water dripped from her and she grinned. 'Oh, Mark,' she said and leaned forward and eased the towel from the sand. 'You should try it.' Margot patted herself dry, mindful of the sun lotion protecting her skin. 'Being naked in the water was so ... so ... liberating.' She stretched her arms towards the sky. 'I really do recommend it, darling.'
Still uncomfortable at his mother's uninhibited display, Mark cleared his throat, his eyes glued to the page. 'I ... I don't think so, Mum. It isn't really appropriate.'
Margot laid the towel back onto the sand. She rolled her eyes and said in an exasperated voice, 'Oh come on. Don't be such a ... prude. Relax, we're on a lovely holiday.' Margot settled onto her back, breasts and pubic thatch exposed. 'Besides, I've seen you in the nude before.' She smirked and slipped the sunglasses onto her face.
An odd fascination drew Mark's attention to fluff of his mother's pubic bush. He saw the precise line of her bikini wax and prominent mound of her mons before, of their own accord, his eyes travelled over the concavity of his mother's stomach to the rack of her ribcage and, finally, her breasts. His gaze lingered until, with a start, he realised that his mother's face was turned towards him, her eyes hidden behind dark lenses.
Were her eyes open or not? Had she seen his sightline and hungry appraisal of her femininity?
Blushing, he feigned physical discomfort and rolled over and presented his to his mother. 'My arm's gone to sleep,' he said.
Her languid response gave no indication. 'I could just drop off and snooze.' Margot sighed. 'Don't let me lay here too long, Mark. I don't want to get sunburnt.
It took mark ten full minutes of vacillation before he eventually sighed and stood up. He slipped off his shorts and followed his mother's example and took the few steps to the ocean.
She was right, he decided a few moments later as the gentle swell, the waves lifting him bouyantly, caressed his body. He swam further away from the shore and then turned in the water to float on his back, a cork bobbing on the surface of the great Atlantic. He could feel the cool waters beneath him while the sun warmed his front. Then, unbidden, shocking in its intensity, the image of his mother's buttocks returned. In his mind's eye Mark saw their taut roundness and the sway of her hips. He vividly pictured the line of her spine, her tight waist and lean thighs as she'd walked towards the water. Mark's penis thickened and grew hard.
In an effort to push the picture from his thoughts, Mark struck out for the shore. He trod water and waited for things to subside. 'Get a grip,' he muttered.
When he walked towards the tiny encampment Margot was watching, her body angled as she rested on her elbows.
The woman, with her sunglasses pushed into her hair, grinned at her son. 'You've grown into a handsome man, Mark. Lovely physique ...'
To Mark, his mother's line of sight appeared to be focussed on his groin. The image came to mind again as the reality of her nudity confronted him.