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.

"This is so wrong," Fiona almost sobbed, more in ecstasy than reluctance as she just wanted to get that statement out for her own conscience, before giving in to the sensations below, the swollen clit and the hardened nipple that were bringing her to the ultimate goal, an orgasm from a man.

It hit her hard, wave upon wave of convulsions and spasms had her son now holding her firmly, meaning she felt his throbbing erection on her bum. But she couldn't think of that right now, she'd missed one of those too, but right now she was snorting, managing to hold in her cries in a silent scream as her son looked on in the mirror, fully aware he has caused all this pleasure.

Finally she came down, securing her robe with the hanging ties, she turned, red faced and looked him up and down. "What did we just do? She asked, not needing an answer as the enormity set in.

"What you needed," he assured her, whilst trying to cover his tenting erection in his sleep shorts, crossing his hands across his groin.

She looked down at it, and not wanting her son to suffer, whilst slightly more selfishly wanting a living, throbbing, spitting meat pole in her hands again, she asked if he wanted her to help with that, and was almost sad when her son said, "This was for you," before the kiss on her cheek made her swoon and he said, "You need to let me help you.... with everything."

Then he was off after kissing her on the cheek, leaving her touching her cheek where the kiss had landed, strangely not feeling ashamed at who had just brought her to orgasm.

That evening was date night, with his sister Jenny looking after their son until morning, Joe took Lucy out for seafood. Although his ankle was genuinely sore, he managed ok and he thought he might be ok for the match tomorrow.

Back in the sanctuary of their own room, Lucy sat him down on the bed, Joe's painkillers had receded to present him with the pain of his ankle again. This was a worry, he didn't want to miss the football match tomorrow, as his son was so excited about it.

Lucy made him forget about it for the rest of the night, first taking his trousers and boxers off in one sweep, she tended to her wounded husband with lips on his 7 inch penis. Then she lowered her pussy to his face, reaching orgasm before she took her husband's cock in her pussy, freshly waxed for her bikini, where she rode him, feeding him her pert, 25 year old tits that had nurtured his son before she felt that telltale buck of his hips that told her it was close, the feeling she craved more than any other part of sex, and soon it was happening as he held her hips down, joining her in orgasm as he filled her up, cumming inside her silky cavern.

What they both didn't know, however, was that as Lucy had bounced upon her spouse's cock, their quest to be quiet had come unravelled, as Lucy's treating him like a pogo stick had alerted Fiona, reading her book whilst her husband slept in the motorised, accessible bed, beside her.

Her hand had dipped, her pussy had joined her daughter In-law's at being moist and she had began to play with herself in silence, silence that got more of a challenge when she heard the unmasked sounds of her son at his climax, triggering her own and she ran, with fingers up herself to the bathroom where she leaned on the sink, looked in the mirror and watched her own face contort while reality thundered down on her, the image in her mind was not Lucy making her son cum.

Next room, laying with each other post Climax, the adrenalin of intercourse had deserted him now, and Joe discuss with Lucy, what happens if he can't make it tomorrow?

They then discuss it with the family in the morning, he was still no better, and it was agreed that if he couldn't manage, Lucy and his sister would be alright on their own with the kids and Keith.

Why on their own? Oh, that's right..... Fiona absolutely hates football.

Day 3

Like always, she had planned to stay behind, lazing around the pool in the sun, perhaps reading a book. It was a great source of relaxation for her, taking time out from her life as a carer, one that she thanked her children regularly for helping with.

This time would be different, as the stolen glances during the discussions had travelled between her and Joe, they both felt the pangs of anxiety about yesterday and now, being left alone together. Was that anxiety? Or sexual excitement?

The morning of the game was like every time they did this, this being the fourth time this season. They had lunch together at 12pm, and the two grandchildren were almost beside themselves in excitement, both kitted out in the team's home strip.

As per usual, Fiona had worn her swimsuit under her sundress at lunch, with her book, phone and suntan lotion in a bag. She always fussed over Keith when parting, even for just the afternoon with family. Insisting on feeding him his lunch in the hotel's pool cafe. In her swimsuit, she stood feeding him, and when she dropped some down onto his shorts and leaned down to clean it as he sat in his wheelchair, in doing so, she had displayed a mountain range of cleavage that had her daughter exclaiming, "Erm, Mum!," gesturing to cup her own set of MILF tits.

To quantify my sister Jenny and her MILF tits, my twin had no tits until she got pregnant with her first child, sprouting from A to B cup in weeks. Now a mother of three, her body had thickened from those times in our late teens, the 30 year old mother of newborn twin girls, and the daughter of 4 years who was on this trip with us, were now at a guess, a 34c chest, with hips that seemed to be widening all the time to help push more children out.

Fiona blushed as she adjusted herself, pulling the U-Shaped neckline up over her cleavage as Keith quipped, "Hey, daughter... shut up. I get very little thrills these days," causing everyone to crack up laughing. Then around 1pm, everyone left for the football match, leaving Fiona by the poolside, and Jack in it doing lengths, in order to delay being alone with his mother.

She watched her son, back stroke, breast stroke, then treading water and finally at the edge of the pool, right at the end where it was deeper, and the view across the hills could be seen. Someone was going to have to break the ice, and twenty minutes after the Bernabeau party left, with her son still swimming, Fiona knew it was going to be her.

Placing her book on the sun lounger, with her bag wrapped up in her dress, Fiona strode towards the small ladder that took her down to the water, unaware that her son had followed her journey. He saw that her swimsuit didn't really overcome her breasts' urgent desire to move, watching them sway from side to side as she walked. He saw her reach for the handrail, briefly glimpsing her cleavage before she turned, displaying her curvy ass with the material thinning in, between her legs.

She wasn't close enough for him to see the contours of her vagina, and as she lowered in beneath the water, she shrieked to herself as the cold water travelled up and over her body, as she had let go of the ladder and fell back to get it over and done with, quickly.

Joe watched her swim towards him, arms alternately reaching out of the water until she was in front of him, now treading water as her feet didn't touch the bottom. "You know you can't stay in here all day?" She asked him, rhetorically.

She leaned in to the side of the pool, pressing herself up against the side, leaning on her elbows to fix her blonde hair behind her ears. "Just fancied a swim," Joe replied, turning and feeling like he was being scolded, but still dipping his eyes from hers to take in the view of the tops of her breasts above the water.

She studied his face, both heads turned towards one another, leaning on their elbows. Letting go of the side of the pool, Joe held his breath when she reached a hand to his shoulder and said, "I'm going to my room to shower. Come up in 15 minutes." Then, rather than swim back over to the ladder, he watched as Fiona pushed up on her hands and raised her body out of the water, threw a leg out to lean on her knee and stood up, fixing her hair behind her ears while looking down at her son.

Joe was looking back at her, from his angle beneath her, he was looking up over the mound at her pelvis, up her round stomach that just provided a rolling curve to her breasts, who's cleavage had popped out with the athletic manoeuvring out of the pool. "15 minutes," she repeated, with just a nod from Joe.

Joe had no watch on, nor a phone, and his mind trying to process what was going to happen when he went up there, closed down his ability to count the minutes as he waited. It could have been twenty minutes, five minutes, he didn't know, but as he walked towards his hotel room, and that connecting door to her room, to say he was excited about seeing his mother, was an understatement.

His own room door was no problem, he looked at the time on his mobile phone and it read 1:39pm, and thinking that enough time has elapsed, he went to the doorway to his parents room, with the door feeling rather heavier than he thought it was before.

He internally planned it, she was going to be dressed and sitting at the window, or maybe reclining on the bed, again, fully dressed, but when he finally pushed the door with enough force to move it, he heard running water from the shower.

Dressed in quite tight swimming shorts, Joe's cock sat dressed to the left, with a lazy-lob in the material, the thought of Fiona showering made it take interest. His thoughts were in turmoil, internal monologue or, 'Angel on my shoulder,' telling him to Go into his own room and wait for her, getting bum-fucked by the little Satan on his shoulder who was whispering into his ear, "Go, she's beckoning you - she wants you in there!"

Before Joe knew what was happening, he was at her bathroom door, reasoning with himself that if the door was locked, fate did it. He put his hand on the handle and lowered it, the door moved and cracked open and his breath briefly halted as he assessed his actions, all the while feeling his erection pushing out his swim shorts.

Peering in, his Mum had her back to him rinsing her hair, and with the raised hands and arms, he could see the outside curves of both breasts as they swayed pendulously back and forth.

Meanwhile, in the shower, Fiona was deliberately taking her time, this being the longest hair wash in her life, as she had thoroughly scrubbed the rest of her body, inside and out.

She pretended to ignore the changes in air pressure when the bathroom door opened, then closed. She paid no attention when he called out, "Mum." She even kept humming to herself when the shower door sounded like it was opening, but kept her hands up in her hair as it closed, freezing on the spot as his hairy arms came around her body, and after she moaned at feeling every hair on his chest to his navel on her back, she had to stop herself from falling to the floor by gripping the accessible grab-rail, when she simultaneously felt his hands cup her breasts, and his rock hard penis on her bum as he leaned in to place a chaste kiss on her shoulder.

"I couldn't wait," Joe breathed into her ear, as the shower rained down on their naked bodies.

"You shouldn't be in here," she said, meanwhile she was straightening her body up to push back into this sensual embrace of manly, prickly hair of his chest on her back.

Joe's devil on his shoulder hadn't even thought of this reaction, as Fiona was now swaying her hips to welcome his cock like a hot-dog bun, while on the other side of things, Fiona was getting weak at the knees as her son massaged her hanging breasts, wanting to turn around to feel the hairy chest against them.

"Should I leave?" He asked, pinching her nipples, simultaneously.

"Yes!" Fiona moaned, "You sh... should leave," she struggled to say whilst feeling the chest hair on her back, the tweaking of her nipples, and as they were half squatted over, the penis now poking her in the ass.

She pushed back and Joe felt it, raising his body to give her space as he thought he had gone too far. But she reached back, placed her right hand pic his hip before, slowly, she turned her body around to face him.

Now with her face to his chest, she looked all over his pecs, before succumbing to her need to run her fingers through it. He looked like her husband did all those years ago, before a 'Dad Bod' set in, not that she was complaining about it as she longed to feel it against her again.

Now, here she was, feeling the chest of her son and stroking the thick mat of black hair whilst squeezing his muscular pecs. Instinctively he knew what she wanted, and he hunkered down a tad, just enough to allow the muscular chest to pick up her boobs, dragging them upwards and making her moan, as his movements had bristled his hair over her nipples. Also, his upwards movement had brought his cock up under her undercarriage, causing her to shriek in surprise.

Looking down at it, she suddenly realised that she owed him an orgasm, secretly hoping that evening the score would take them back from this brink.

Joe watched as his mother lowered her hand to his hardness that had now sprouted up to just below her hanging tits, who's brownish nipples were fully erect. Fiona locked eyes with Joe, and reached up with a reassuring left hand to cup his face as he cried out when Fiona had took his cock into her hand.

That's how they stayed, they didn't kiss and no words were spoken, just the gentle bounce of her right, motherly breast, as the hand wanking her boy impacted the bottom of it.

This sensation of intimacy was too much for Fiona, torn between moistening at the feeling of the living, thickly pulsing cock in her hand, and the reality of who it was attached to.

As a woman, she needed this, her nipples were standing in salute to him, and with every yank on that long, thick pole, her vagina twitched and pooled moisture for it. She didn't let go, nor did she back away in any form, but what she did do would provide the distance she needed to process who had now ran his right hand down to cup her left breast, all the while breathing heavily to deal with the sensations of being stroked.

It was a simple thing Fiona did, still lovingly caressing Joe's cock, she banished all thoughts of wrongness by leaning her head forwards and nuzzling her face into her son's chest, and when she felt his arms encircling her shoulders to pull her into this muscly, fuzzy chest, she placed a kiss upon his sternum and groaned, "Oh Keith."

Upon hearing his father's name, Joe's reaction was slow and tactful, but instantaneous. He first reached to stop her Masturbating his phallus, she held her forehead to his chest, refusing to look up to see the man before her.

Secondly, Joe gently turned his mother, whispering into her ear from behind, "Let me give you what you need."

Completely overwhelmed with emotion and arousal, Fiona allowed herself to be bent at the waist, and as she gripped the bathroom grab-rail before her, she shuffled her legs apart in preparation, whimpering when she felt a hand on her buttock and pull it aside, whilst another hand, holding a penis, guided it just inside her lonely, mournful vagina.

"Aaah-huh-huh," was the cry from deep within her, when Joe gripped her hips and slid the entire length up in her. Her body jerked, and one hand came off the rail to press against the wall, as thankfully her son was holding her up now, as her legs gave out in pleasure. "Oh Keith, I've missed this so much," she moaned, giving full anonymity to him to proceed. And proceed he did.

It was brutal fucking at times, and Fiona pushed back against him to increase the impacts as Joe let the animal lose. She needed this, as and she felt so good, knowing how to arch herself to aid penetration. Other than that, she took it from behind, handing herself over to the man behind her, daring to release her grip on the grab-rail to cross her arm across her breasts and play with a nipple as her orgasm grew.

What an orgasm it was, Joe felt it too as her pussy began to tighten and pulse, and as her body raised up in front of him as Joe slid his hands up to hold her by the shoulders, it hit, causing her to palm at the tiled walls, slapping it while she bucked on his cock, doubling over when he dropped his hands down to reach around to her tits and hold her up by their fullness, to bring her back against his chest so she felt the familiar fuzz that she craved.

Then he was fucking her again, Fiona was rolling from orgasm to orgasm, as her son seemingly had no desire to cum. "Keith, oh Keith," she kept up the pretence, all the while getting battered by the penis of their offspring, who's breathing was getting ragged, who's thrusts were losing their rhythm as he felt his balls getting tighter.

'Where do I cum, this is my mother,' shot through his mind like a bullet. There was only one thing to do to not spoil the moment, he couldn't call her Mum, not while doing this to her, breaking her over and over in climax "Fiona," he said, and her pussy spasmed at the way he sounded like his dad as he asked, "Can you still get pregnant?"

"No.... please Joe, please," she pleaded, breaking the act of who was behind her.

"Mum, oh god, I'm cumming in cumming," he said and increased his pace, forcing himself right up her sex as her eyes rolled back in her head, as Fiona began to get truly exhausted at this display of raw masculinity reaching its climax.

It was a climax they would both remember, he shuddered against her with one powerful thud, then gave her a few more stabs in the pussy before he came, unloading the contents of his balls up her snatch that was pulsing, almost like it was chewing before it's swallowed his potent load inside her body.

He was spent, falling against her back, he had no idea that the bristles of chest hair were having an effect, tickling her in the best way that was already making her want this again. Then he pulled out, and sperm fell out onto the floor, just outside the reach of the shower stream as she stayed looking down at the puddle between her feet. "I'll see you at the pool, Mum," was the last thing she heard before the bathroom door signalled his retreat, in through the door to his own hotel room.

Washing his face and taking stock, he looked in the mirror and thought, 'This is crazy, it's only 2:30pm and I have to look at her until 6,' now beginning to question his act of, 'Giving her what she needed.' He came back out, poured himself a stiff drink of Bourbon and sat down at the little table at the window, looking at the connecting door whilst wondering what his mother was doing, what she was thinking about. Was she in turmoil, like Joe?

Fiona, in fact, was shell-shocked. After he left, she remained in the shower and found herself using the shower head to power wash the sperm from her vagina. Drying herself, it alarmed her how turned on she remained, the nipples that still longed to few pulled and tugged my a set of lips and teeth, seemed to throb as the fluffy hotel towel passed over. She looked in the mirror, just as she lowered it to dry her navel, then down to the folds of her life giving Vaginal opening and groaned, again revisiting her recent tryst.

Knowing how wrong her recent submission to lust was, 'I could go to jail for thoughts like these,' she refused the embrace the recent memories of her son's penis down there. She remembered that she was a respectable, middle-class woman, who was married to a man who was all but quadriplegic, and more importantly, was father to the son who had rutted her, minutes ago.

Fiona was in pieces, and as she entered the main hotel room, still naked, she didn't dare go near that door to the next room, but chose instead to retreat to the sanctuary of the bed, laying on her back and covering herself to the nose. Even when her mobile phone beeped, she didn't get out from her cocoon, but just reached to the bedside cabinet with a left arm and boob feeling the afternoon air.

Looking at the lock screen, her eyes bugged, as a picture of her husband and grandchildren at the game had been sent. "Looking good! All going well?" She replied.

The text from her daughter was then followed by a Selfie of husband, daughter, daughter In-law and grandchildren, and it hit her just how much she had to lose if it ever got out about her misdemeanour, as the accompanying text has asked how they were doing?

She replied immediately, saying all was well, "I'm back at the hotel room, feeling a little warm," she sent, seeing that Joe had read it.

Then she got a direct text from him, just a simple, "Are you OK?" was so little a thing to ask, but now had her asking the same question of herself.

She fretted, chewed her cheek in anxiety-ridden thought. Then realising they were both adults, replied with, "We need to talk."

Getting no reply, she didn't know that these were the words he had been waiting on, whilst staring at that doorway between them. He was still on a high, not just because of the large measure of Bourbon either, but that he had just had the most intense sex ever.

Was he feeling guilty? Yes.

Was he feeling anxious about seeing his mother? Fuck yes.

Was he silently hoping for an encore? No comment!

He breathed deeply as he stood with his hand just lightly pressing down on the door handle, suddenly being weakened to the point he couldn't press down any further. Composing himself, he knocked lightly on the door, but didn't wait for an answer and walked on through.

Fiona jumped when the door edged ajar, and patted down the swaddling of bedsheets to ensure that he couldn't see that she was naked beneath the sheets. Taking in the view to her left, that body hair on his chest made her nipples go funny again, feelings that were certainly not maternal.

He was masculine, and assertive, laying down beside her immediately upon seeing her anguished face. Stroking it, he asked, "What's wrong? Why are you so sad?"

"You know why, Joseph," she said, emphasising the seriousness with his full name.

"Mum," he said, combing her still wet hair with his fingers, "Let's not dwell on what happened, just one family member lending a hand to another."

"A hand.... maybe if it had stopped at your hand, we wouldn't be in this predicament."

"What predicament?" he sharply retorted, "Can you get pregnant? No. Can anybody else find out what we did? No. In fact.... we'd be stupid to not do it again," he teased, smiling At his internally battling mother.

"No," she managed to smile, as she had secretly explored that idea with herself, too.

"Why not?" He said, elongating the, 'Not,' like a child would as he tugged at her bedsheets / comfort blanket.

Fiona was laughing as she secured the bedsheets with her arms down her sides, her body now highlighted snuggly with her shoulders and upper chest bared. Of course Joe glanced at her breasts, now perfectly framed by her efforts, and she playfully scolded, "Oi, eyes up!"

"Sorry," he smiled, just like he used to do when she was telling him off for things like not tidying his room, and with another gentle tug of the sheet, "But I didn't get to play with them earlier!"

He now had his mother smiling with an open mouth and a giggle, but she soon extinguished that little fire with, "And you're not going to be playing with them either! I'm your mother, we're only talking!"

But the smile was still there, and then she briefly left herself vulnerable as she raised her arms to put them underneath the white sheets to just grip the sheets with her fingers.

Seeing this as a lessening of the security measures, Joe again reached to pinch the sheets, just above the swell of the chunky hips. "Stop!" Fiona said, I'm naked in here," was supposed to warn him off, but it failed.

"Oh really? Then maybe I should just jump in beside you," he teased, reaching to the edge of the sheet beneath him on the bed space to her left.

"You wouldn't!" Fiona exclaimed, with eyes wide and secretly, a twitching pussy, too, as she was all too aware that this was turning her on.

He didn't speak his answer, but next he got up from where he lay, and keeping his eyes fixed to his mother's as he stood beside the bed, he put his thumbs inside the elastic of his tight swim shorts, lowered them to his feet and stepped out of them as Fiona held her resolve to not look at the still soft penis before her, but raised her hands to cover her mouth in shock, and probably to disguise her salivating too, at the fine specimen of man before her.

With the sheets no longer secured by her hands, Joe could have bared the woman quite simply, but in a loving exchange of gazes, they both silently agreed to what he did instead, and gripping the corner of the bedsheet at his side, he raised it just enough to slide a pioneering foot and leg in before the rest of his body followed, and he secured the sheet around him to leave him in bed, both naked, with his mother. He was wordless in his movements, as Fiona's eyes dropped down the sheets to see how far his hips were as he turned, because she knew it would give her an idea of the proximity of his penis.

She was terrified of touching it, or it touching her, and raised her arms out of the bedsheets again to be down the sides of her body. Why was she afraid of his penis? Because thoughts of, 'If he's hard so help me god, my legs will shoot apart,' were flooding her mind, much like was happening to Joe, too, who was now lying on his side, arm bent and was leaning on his hand, trying to will the covering just that little bit further down as with her moving her arms, the rolling hills of her cleavage had peeped that little further out.

Finally, they spoke. "Hi," Joe smiled down at her, not even trying to disguise his sharing his eyes between hers and her cleavage.

"We can't do this, you know that?" she Asked, but was that to him?.... or her?

Joe reached across, stroking her closest shoulder to sooth her fears, he was only to re-double them when he gently glided his fingers across to her sternum. She just followed his fingers down as they entered her cleavage, regulating her breathing to not sound desperate for him to go further down.

Joe, not wanting to startle her, gently ran his fingers underneath the comforter, feeling the unmistakable padding of breast flesh as he swept his fingers back to her shoulders, only to replicate the movement around again, only this time doing it to her other boob.

Fiona's breathing was becoming shallower, her face and chest turning red as her son fanned his hand out on her chest. 'I can't do this.... again,' she thought, remembering that he had already taken her from behind and in her turmoil, she brought her hands up to cover her face, with words that had not been rehearsed coming out from her mouth, "How much time do we have?"

In raising her hands to her face, her breasts had popped out from their covering, and Joe replied, "Two more hours."

Shortly after he'd told her, she jolted and groaned in reaction, as his hand had cupped her right breast, immediately pinching her pointing, red/brown nipple whilst latching on to the left one with his mouth. In that split second before this sudden turn of events, Fiona had been undecided, but as he pounced on her breasts, feasting and groping, that decision was taken away by her pussy clenching, her legs spreading in preparation for mating, nudging against Joe's leg that immediately seized the opportunity to hook around it.

Fiona didn't even mount a defence when he appeared above her, but raised her knees to keep him cradled. His body was too high up to feel his cheat hair on her front, stretched out at the end of his pushup stance, nudging the opening to her vagina with hardness. She was just about to repeat her foreboding to allow this to happen - again - when Joe gave her two options, and none of them were about retreating back up this pathway as he growled, "I can either fuck you hard 3 times or make love to you until 6 o'clock," sounding like a man possessed.

The mother, now looking him in the eyes, stifled her breath as his hand had been sitting between her mounds of flesh. Then he pressed slightly harder to part in between, hearing her suck in Breath and hold it when he fanned his fingers out, placing them on the top of her bare, motherly boob.

Looking down at this sight, and his penis that was now at her core, she felt the slight tremble in him, nervous at being where a grownup son should never be. It was wrong, it was taboo in every one of her thoughts, something that only happened in Game of Thrones - incest.

Joe was on the other end of this, taking the warm, heavy breast of the woman who raised him into his grasp. He squeezed it, felt it's mass spill out over his hand and his own breath got faster and harder to control.

He fixed his eyes to her sea blue pools, he noticed the warmth in her face telling him it was all going to be ok. Her hair was down, blonde and unkempt after having a shower. It had been quite a day so far, a day they both didn't know was about to further alter the trajectory of their lives.

Sitting up and shuffling his thighs underneath hers, her covering was suddenly gone. His penis was sitting over her slit, and he said in cupping his mother's naked DDs. "Just relax," he said, and saw her eyes start to close as she felt the length and girth between her nether lips with his penis on show, and after getting caught having a look, Fiona took leave of herself by breathing, "It.... looks so big."

"I must take my large size off someone," he said, squeezing her tits and she smiled like a schoolgirl. "You can touch me..... if you want," made her eyes shoot back to his.

"I.... we can't," she protested, but he edged closer until his face was right against hers.

"You deserve to feel like a woman again," was the last thing he said before he released a breast, gripped her hand and set it down on top of his fully thick phallus, where immediately he felt her hand palm over it.

"This is wrong, but so.... good," she felt him pinch her nipple for the second time as she gripped his penis in response, moaning as it filled her hand and made her moist in both main orifices.

What happened next wasn't like the stories, or even in the movies. That first time whilst face to face in bed, there was no sucking or licking each other off, feeling like this with the most "right" thing in the world.

Their bodies fought, her feet caught under her as she tried to bring her legs out to sit up and mount her son, as he himself felt the pains of his injured ankle as her weight came on him, falling forward into the arms of his mother as they both laughed, trying to ease the tension.

"Are you OK" his mother asked and he smiled as she stroked his face while looking into his eyes lovingly.

"Yes, I am thank you. What more could a boy want than falling whilst about to make love with his mother?"

Fiona recoiled at this revelation, as up until that moment, they hadn't actually stated what they were about to do. Maybe they didn't know until that moment, but as they settled into that age old position, with woman beneath man, no more words were needed as the mother opened her legs wide, with neither of them bearing witness as the head of his cock parted her glistening lips and she cried out an ecstasy, as he then filled her soaking wet cavern at the first attempt.

Holding still whilst buried in her warmth, he hovered his chest over her and presented his hairy chest to her. Fiona groaned, both at the feeling of his cock up inside her, but also at her thirst for his nipples, nuzzling into the thicket of fur to suck and kiss his manly chest whilst running her fingers through his hair.

Then he came back down to face her when he pulled back out of her, before holding her gaze as he stroked back inside. Fiona's senses were so heightened that she thought she might kiss him, something she had deemed too intimate, more so than the throbbing manhood now building up a rhythm in her, making her shudder as it parts her velvet walls before it pulls back, taking her sheathe partly out before sliding back in.

Studying her face, she asked him what was wrong, and as he performed another slow withdraw and insert, he asked, "What do you need me to do to you?"

Even this made her pussy pulse, the manly question wetting her even more as she asked, "What do you mean?"

"I can..... eat you, if you..... like," he breathed, and as he continued his slow, methodical thrusts, his mother's lip biting gave way to a nod of the head, and almost immediately she felt him leave her empty, crawl down her body and take both her breasts in his mouth, kissing them all over before nuzzling her tummy, over her mons and down to where he came from, all those years ago.

Fiona gripped him by the hair as he feasted on her, kissing and licking the thick, wet mucus he made her body secrete. Her bum came up off the bed as she put her hands over her face, trying to hold in a wail. He noticed this, and looking up from between her legs he authoritatively said, "MUM!"

Peering down over her breasts, heaving in their redness, she looked at her son's glistening face that was thick with her juices and listened intently when he said, "I'm going to make you cum and there's no one here to hear you. Let me hear you as I eat you, then I'm going to fill you, and then cum inside your pussy as you spasm...... god!"

He was back between her lips, licking her with his flattened tongue right to her clit then down again. Her hips were rising, her legs stretching up so he gripped her by the bum to hold her body still as he buried his face into her pussy and ate her until she was crying, "Joe, oh my god! You're.... making me......"

Moisture flooded his mouth, pulses of clear liquid filled him and he swallowed loudly, making her think he'd be repulsed at what her body was filling him with.

Repulsed he was not. With hunger, he was soon back up between her thighs, and she watched with desire as his cock jiggled about on its way to fill her again as she reached out to guide it home.

His face was right over hers and the aroma of her own pussy, seemed to make her own pussy even wetter. Did she want to kiss him? She's was unsure, instead she ejected an, "UHHHH," as Joe urgently slammed up in her again to the hilt.

He did try to kiss her but she turned her head, and instead he cupped her breast and brought her nipple to his mouth. This would be the accepted practice, after fucking her relentlessly for around ten minutes, Joe would gaze at his mother's beauty, looking to her from his chosen breast until he was ready to go again.

Fiona just took it, laying there and enjoying being the submissive mother in missionary. This was how her children were conceived, this was what she missed since her husband was rendered powerless to fuck her hard, like her son was now administering as he sought this session's ultimate pleasure in her.

Her vagina was in complete agreement, wetting him, wanting him, rhythmically caressing him until he thrust against her meaty mons and held her gaze, both knowing that he was unloading a million live sperm up in her, coating her walls and redundant cervix, dipping into the pool of goo, trying to fertilise her baron womb.

"No regrets!" Joe stated firmly, not in any way a question.

She held his steady gaze, nodded and shocked him when she asked, "Can you do this to me when you come round to study?"

Joe was still inside her, and they both groaned as his cock moved within her as he fell onto her, finally mashing his beefy chest into her breasts. "Please," she added, needing to feel this prickly fuzz against her rejoicing nipples again.

"Can I kiss you?" Joe chanced, seeing her think before she replied...."Next time," before an alarm went off, telling the two that it's was almost time for the football fans to return.

"Mum," he said and she turned, holding her swimsuit in her hands, affording him his first real glance at his mother's naked, mature body with the forces of gravity on it. Breasts hanging under their own weight and the after effects of feeding two twin siblings, her nipples sat proudly at the curve of her heavy bottomed melons.

They were his now, to enjoy and fulfil the needs for, along with the trimmed, dark haired vagina that had him asking with a smirk, "Mum! Aren't you a natural blonde?"

She covered it with her swimsuit then, before pulling it up over her jiggling boobs, and after she gave him one more flash, she secured the straps on her shoulders and replied, "I am your mother. Let's agreed that when my tits and pussy are out, you can ask, and do, anything you like. Agreed?"

"Agreed!" Joe replied immediately, covering himself up as she watched his penis disappear beneath his shorts.

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.

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.

Day 4.

Preparing for the journey to the airport that afternoon, after an uneventful last night there with the family, they all took turns doing tests, checking for Covid 19. Everyone was in the parents' room, taking turns at raping their own mouths and noses with the torturous swabs and everyone was clear.

Then the twin brother and sister took their tests, like all the rest they did it in the bathroom in case they wretched and choked. Reaching into her handbag, the sister reached her brother the pre-prepared test, with lines showing a positive outcome. He looked at her, holding the tester between them he said, "Are you sure about this?"

She was nervous, this was a direct lie, a deep deception to all their family, especially her husband who was at home with two twin girls, now 7 months old. She held her brother's stare and nodded, "He really wants a son this time. You're given me three healthy, beautiful babies for him so far."

He loved his sister, the former tearaway teenage sibling now wanted nothing more than to be a perfect mother, and wife to her devoted husband. But the carnal attraction to this man, Joe, was hard to stay away from since their first time at 18. Maybe it had been need, rather than necessity that brought her back to him when she had fertility problems with her husband.

Now, in a premeditated, careful plan, they would spend two weeks together in Spain. All under the helpful guise of having contracted the global pandemic.

How did they get here? Perhaps that's a story for another time.