Thanks to MissJenny54 for editing/proofreading.
This is a fictional story, and all characters are over the age of legal consent.
PREFACE
I've lived separately from my mother, a busy, divorced businesswoman, since I was a teenager, but we used to go on vacation during summer breaks. The year before, I was with her no longer as a child but almost as an adult. Because of the frequent absences, she now seemed more like an older yet still beautiful girlfriend than a mother, so our relationship rose to a more intimate level. The final night of our last vacation culminated in a crazy love affair where I experienced my mother's hitherto unknown masochistic tendencies. (See the story Vacation with my mother Pt. 1)
NEXT SUMMER
After I successfully passed the final exams at university and received my diploma, I was happy to call my mother to tell her the good news. At the time, she was on business somewhere in the Far East, and I caught up with her in her hotel room in Bangkok that evening. She warmly congratulated me, saying she knew I would not disappoint her and never doubted my abilities.
She announced this would be her last trip, as she was retiring from business life. After that, she would only undertake occasional consulting due to her financial security and planned to devote herself to rest and self-care. She wanted to start her retirement with a memorable beach vacation and invited me along to celebrate graduation. She booked tickets and accommodation for the same island, in the same small beach villa where we stayed last year.
"Do you want to come with me?" She asked.
"Of course, I'm going! Thank you very much for the invitation, Mom," I said cheerfully into the phone, wishing her a good night and hanging up. Do I want to go?! I can't wait! Even now, my groin starts to pleasantly tingle when recalling the memory of our last year's vacation and sexual activities.
Less than two weeks later, we arrived under the scorching Mediterranean sun. The taxi driver carried the suitcases in, and tired from the flight, we slowly sipped a glass of ice-cold grapefruit juice in the coolness of the living room. My mother, with her long hair, tight jeans, colorful blouse, flowery sandals, and thin gold anklets, appeared more like a teenage girl without trying than a businesswoman in her forties. She was still tantalizingly sexy, and I struggled to control myself. I couldn't resist hugging and pulling her close to me.
"Bad boy, don't be in such a hurry!" She admonished jokingly, gently slipping out of my embrace. "We have plenty of time," she continued. "Let's go take a dip in the sea to refresh!"
She threw off her clothes and stripped naked. "Oh, Mom, don't do this to me," I pleaded because it excited me.
"Patience, dear!" She said in a playful voice and briskly started towards the shore after stroking my hair. I followed behind, admiring her fit, shapely, supple figure, barely concealed by her blue-orange bikini.
We ran into the water, the bottle green waves surrounding us as we frolicked in the cool foam. Mom splashed me, I wanted to reciprocate, but she swam away, laughing among the waves. Her girlish figure glistened with drops of water, reminding me of the Little Mermaid. When I caught up in the shallower water, she put her arms around my neck and locked her legs around my waist. I held her by her tight butt, reaching under her bikini bottom with my palms.
"How dare you grope my ass?!" she exclaimed with mock disapproval, a laugh hiding in the corners of her mouth. She was in a good mood, and I twirled her around while her long, brown hair fluttered in the breeze. I kissed her cheeks on both sides next to her nose, made more youthful by a few tiny freckles.
"Thank you, Mom, once again," I said, "for letting me be here with you!"
We left the water, sunbathed until we dried off, then walked along the coastal line of shops. We bought a box of Fritto Misto grilled seafood mixture from a street vendor and a bottle of red wine from a shop that opened at the end of the siesta. Due to the afternoon heat, we headed home to our air-conditioned accommodation. We sat on the shaded terrace, enjoying the grilled seafood, washing it down with a glass of wine while chatting cheerfully about different things or listening to the constant chirping of the cicadas. Later, we played a few games of cards. Mom was much more relaxed and liberated since she had decided to retire from business.
It began to get dark, and the wine started to affect us like a fire racing through our veins, intensifying our desire for each other. After the last glass, we got up, looked at the now mirror-smooth sea, and retreated to the cooler bedroom. My mother put her arms around my neck and looked at me mischievously. "You've been patient, so now you deserve a reward; you can undress me," she said and kissed me sensually. With pleasure, I unbuttoned her light, airy beach dress and her elegant, lacy bra. When I was about to pull off her tight transparent panties, she grabbed my hand and said, "Wait a minute!"
Fumbling through one of her bags, to my surprise, she pulled out a pair of leather wrist cuffs, the kind used as erotic toys. She knelt on the bed facing the headboard and asked me to handcuff her wrists to the bars. After I somewhat clumsily managed it, she said, "Take my panties off. There's a braided whip in the bag; punish me like you did last year."
I took out the device, tried it by waving it in the air, then slapped it on my leg. The blow stung a little, causing only minor pain. I grabbed her panties, which showed the silhouette of her buttocks, tore them off, then hit her gently with the whip on her bare bottom. She moaned and writhed lustily. "More!" She whined, and I continued to beat her red bottom gently. "Harder!" she begged, her body squirming. As she knelt handcuffed to the bed, the lewdly exciting thought ran through me of old adventure novels illustrating the torment of slave women. My imagination was further strengthened by the thin bracelet on her left ankle, which I saw in my mind's eye as a thick prison chain as if she were my sex slave.
When her pleasure was nearing its peak, she almost screamed, "Fuck me, fuck me hard!" Throwing the whip aside and kneeling behind her bottom, I pushed my stiff cock into her abundantly juicy vagina, which was excitingly tight because of the position. I didn't even have to move; she almost fucked me with the thrusts of her lower body while more wanton sounds left her throat.
Gasping and screaming as she reached her orgasm, the time had come to stop holding myself back. Roaring with excitement, I emptied the sperm I had saved for weeks for this occasion into her twitching vagina. When I pulled out my semi-hard penis, the sperm flowed like a stream from her onto her still-trembling thighs. I opened the handcuffs, and we lay naked, arm in arm, on the crumpled sheet.
Soft music played in the distance. I lit a candle, its flame flickering and dancing in my mother's shining eyes. While kissing her body, my cock came to life again from her skilled fingers, and when it was erect, she crossed her tight thighs over me and sank deep onto it. Riding my dick, she squeezed rhythmically with her vagina. Her shapely breasts with hard nipples were an insanely enjoyable sight as they bounced in front of my face, and my belly was caressed with her dark pubic hair. I was almost swimming in lustful sensations in which she indulged me. Indicating she wanted to be under me, I flipped her over without separating our bodies. She placed her legs on my shoulders, allowing me to push my penis deep enough to feel her cervix.
In recent times, I have studied such ancient sex methodologies as the Hindu Kama Sutra. I learned the technique somewhat amusingly called 'churning' and thought I would try it. I took hold of my stiff penis (my 'linga' after the Hindu phallus symbol) and made circular movements in my mother's vagina ('yoni' according to the Kama Sutra). The effect was immediate, judging by my mother's eager sounds. Taking over the rhythm with her hips, she began a circular motion in the opposite direction. "How do you know such things?" she panted.