Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it, Mica xx, Yorkshire England.
We were at the company summer retreat on the Island of Santa Antão in the Atlantic Verde Islands. This group of islands was nicely off the beaten path and some of them were uninhabited, and some highly tourist focussed. The company that my late husband founded had a plantation house style compound where the company would hold training retreats, and as a senior shareholder and CEO I had access to the compound as a simple retreat whenever I wanted.
I loved it there, when my husband Paul was alive we would go there several times a year, we would go out on our motor yacht, sunbathe as the boat swayed and sometimes we would fish. If we were out on our own, we would sometimes make the boat rock by ourselves, making love on the deck under the warm Atlantic sun. There were sharks around so we didn't really do much in the way of swimming unless we were close to shore, and inside the shark nets. We had mused about retiring there in years to come.
My son Harry and I had flown from Manchester with Air Portugal, the company had an account with them, so it was the easiest way to book, we always flew business class, deeming First Class an extravagance. A downside was that we had to change planes in Lisbon, but we had access to the Business Class lounge, and we would eat, have a shower, and just chill whilst we waited. The only alternative was charter flights and they really didn't cater for our needs, seats too small, luggage allowance tiny, no express path through check in or passport control. No, that was not for me. I liked a big comfortable seat without someone constantly swinging from my seat or bashing the back of my seat, I liked crockery and silverware when my meals were delivered and I liked the almost personal service that you get in Business Class.
On arrival a company Limo collected us and took us to our plantation house where Maria, the house manager, greeted us and told us our rooms were ready. I asked if we could have martinis on the deck in twenty minutes.
We went to our rooms agreeing to meet in fifteen minutes on the deck. It was a wonderful place, Harry and I had adjoining rooms, a wonderfully large double bed in each, not that size was a requirement any more, I am now on my own, Paul having succumbed in the pandemic four years ago. I had since had the occasional tryst, but I was in no need for anything permanent, and there was always the fear that they wanted me for my money as much as my fanny.
Harry had a girlfriend back home, but I hadn't invited her, and Harry hadn't asked. She was recent in his life, plenty of time yet for her to come along. She looked a little like me I supposed, perhaps a dress size smaller, mid length blond hair, often in a pony, blue eyes, a similar D bust and about five foot three. I wonder if Harry had a type? His girlfriends didn't tend to last more than a few months, I think he grew tired of them.
I was in a bikini with a sarong around my waist, Harry was wearing baggies and raybans. We took our seats in the Teak Steamer Chairs on the decking, the sun still high and we were glad that the overhang of the plantation house shaded us.
"Mrs Harriet, Mr Harry," Maria greeted us, "I hope that your flight was good. Jorge will be here momentarily with your drinks and some canapés."
"Thank you Maria, the flights were fine, long as they always are as we stop over in Lisbon, but they were comfortable and we were very well looked after." Maria smiled and left us and then but a moment had passed and Jorge was delivering our drinks and a wonderful selection of small bites, marzipans, vol au vents and blinis. Our martinis were, as always, excellent and icy cold. Just what we needed.
"Shall we take the yacht out tomorrow mum?"
"Harry, not tomorrow, but perhaps on Wednesday. I would like to just embrace the sun for a day or so, and then yes, we can take the yacht our for a few hours, and yes, you can be helm."
The yacht wasn't really my thing these days, it had really been Paul's. He loved it and we would go out for a few hours most days we were here, and apart from the personal moments we had together, it wasn't as huge an attraction as far as I was concerned. I loved it with Paul, but Paul was gone, and it was a memory jogger that I didn't need.
We sat and enjoyed the warmth and the canapés which were delicious. Harry was on his iPad browsing who knows what, I just sat there in my bikini and my mind in neutral. I shouldn't have noticed, I really shouldn't have looked, but it was pretty obvious that Harry was aroused, well that is something he will have to deal with, nothing to do with me. His problem, not mine. I wondered if his dick looked anything like Paul's.
My mind wandered back to memories of Paul and I, our times naked on the Yacht, where we would brush lips and gently touch each other, me slowly pulling his foreskin down his dick and letting it spring back, he running his fingers through my increasingly wet valley. As I remembered those moments, I could feel my moisture levels rising as I remembered how Paul used to tease me with his tongue, running between my lips but not touching my clitoris, oh how I ached for that touch, my memories were so powerful, I ached for that touch right now.
"I am going for a dip," I said to Harry, and I got up and went to the pool and dived in, perhaps five metres underwater before I surfaced. I needed that, that coolness between my legs, my memories were beginning to get away with me, and I was not sure how Harry would react if his mother groaned out an orgasm in the chair facing him.
Feeling calmer I did a few lengths of the pool and eventually I got back to being me. I climbed out of the pool and stood legs and arms apart in the sun, feeling its drying and warming power on my skin. I wandered back to the deck, Harry wasn't there, I assumed he had gone in for a drink, or perhaps the loo. I glanced down at his iPad and saw a close up image of my bikini crotch, my 'shape' quite discernible.
I didn't do anything, and I certainly wasn't going to say anything, but it did get me wondering. Did boys get fixated on their mums? I knew that Harry's girlfriends tended to look a lot like me, were they simply substitutes for me?
Harry looked a lot like Paul, that is true, but I can say that I have never had a sexual fantasy involving Harry. All my erotic dreams centred around Paul and my memories of him. If Harry harboured sexual fantasies of me then I was afraid that they would remain fantasies and not be realised.
Harry came out and I assumed he had been to the loo. He sat back down in the steamer chair and looked up at me.
"Alright mum?"
"Yes baby, thank you."
Jorge came out with refreshed martinis and I sat gently steaming as my body dried in the afternoon heat. I do not understand why I looked, but Harry's earlier condition seemed to have gone. Perhaps that is why he was inside.
Dinner was spicy chicken and rice washed down with a Portuguese white wine. Harry and I played cribbage for a while, his quick mind catching some of my missed scores which helped him beat me easily with more than a few shouts of 'muggins' from him.
As the stars began to twinkle in the clear sky we retired to bed, it had been a long day and there was little point in staying out bed for the sake of it. So what if it was only eight thirty.
In my room Maria had unpacked my suitcase and everything was where it should be, I had a moment of discomfort when I realised that she would have unpacked BOB, and there he was, my Battery Operated Boyfriend, in my bedside table. 'Hell, who cares', I decided, after all many women had vibes these days, they even sold them in the supermarkets.
I took my bikini off and placed it on my dressing table, I would probably wear it tomorrow. My sarong I hung over the back of my chair. I went into the ensuite and turned the shower on. I was feeling a little tingly, was that the realisation that my son was watching me, or the memories of my husband? I didn't know. I smothered myself in shower gel, spread and washed with my hands, and then showered it all off, the shower spray caught my clitoris giving me a small moment, finished I stepped out and towelled myself dry, and then went and lay on the bed.
Bob came out of the drawer and turned him to a pulse vibration mode and I ran him between the lips of my sex, stopping just before my clit, holding it there, letting the vibrations slowly work upwards. I could feel my electrics building and I knew that my fanny was fluttering, just waiting, 'no waiting tonight lady' I said as I edged bob up to just touching my clit.
Oh my Lord. My pressures built and blew, my orgasm erupted, electrics flowed through my body and by back planked. Only a slight touch and I had gone. It must be the memories that this place brings I decided. I mean I orgasm at home, but nothing as powerful as that. Five minutes later and I was still gulping.
Bob went back to its bedside home and I lay on top of the bed with that slight feeling of anticlimax that comes with the aftermath of a big orgasm. I glanced across at the adjoining room door, and wondered if Harry had got his jollies, or even if he had spied on me through the keyhole. Good luck to him if he had, he would have seen little from that distance.
I slipped into a trance of a sleep, my dreams dominated by Paul, but Harry appeared in a few places, a few places he shouldn't. My subconscious was playing games with me. I did not want to shag my son. When I awoke I washed, toileted, and put my bikini and sarong back on and went down to breakfast.
Maria does wonderful poached eggs, and breakfast was ham and poached eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice and a yoghurt. Harry wandered down about five minutes after me, looking as if he not slept all night. I gave him a questioning look.
"I was too hot to sleep mum, way too hot."
"What were you wearing Harry?"
"My cotton shorts."
"Try going without until you acclimatise, I usually don't wear anything the first few nights."
"Okay mum, I'll try that. I think after breakfast, I will have a short dip in the pool to cool down and then lay on a sun lounger."
I burst the yolks on my eggs and allowed them to smother my ham, such a delicious combination, drank my juice and ate my yoghurt.
"Could I have coffee by the pool please Maria?" I asked.
