Poolside Sex in Spain

Note: This story is completely fictional!

It was a loud party and alcohol was flowing freely, out on the patio at Mirasierra. It was late in the evening, the youngster was plastered, and then he saw the gorgeous brunette doing laps in the pool. Her form was perfect and as she passed in the penumbra of the crescent moon with each lap, it seemed she was skyclad naked. Needing a little sobering up, not to mention aroused by this mystery lady in the villa's pool, he disrobed and slid unbeknownst into the cool still water as she was stroking away in the opposite direction. 

He hid in the corner of the shallow end behind a floating pool implement, and watched as the swimmer approached. She had long dark hair, flowing straight behind her. Reaching the shallow end the aerie figure slowed, then stood up. The boy gasped and felt an instant erection. This was no pubescent preteen, but a fully mature woman with large breasts, a slim figure and solidly muscled hips. Her hair was so long it had been growing longer than most of the girls he had been dating had been alive.

Mesmerized by the image before him, smooth skin glistening in the dim light, he saw the teats were erect and proud, and as she raised her arms to stretch her breasts were so large that the motion barely flattened them; only causing them to fully extend from out of her chest. Then, as if in a dream, she turned toward him and began walking in his direction. The boy realized he was sitting on the steps leading out of the pool, and quickly sucked in a quick breath, slithered under the surface, and glided away under water; his erect penis swaggering to the flow of water. The water was warm but goose pimples crimped up on his skin he was so excited.

The woman exited the pool gracefully, then in the deep darkness at the end of the pool paused to do some stretching, yoga like exercises. The boy crept closer under water, then slowly upon the surface making few waves as to be noticed. His face was an arms length away. She was doing a split, and getting lower and lower; now her pelvis was square on the ground. The woman was facing away, and at the extension of the squat the hair flowing down her back touched the ground. Then with a flurry she reached behind her, gathered up the hair in a hand, and twisted it into a pony tail, and brought the bundle around and rested it on a shoulder, so that it flowed down over her breasts.

Then she turned at the waist, looked straight at the boy and - legs still fully extended upon the tarmac - lurched forward away from him, so that her pelvis was splayed in profile inches from his face. He reached out his hand to caress the legs at the hips; the skin was warm and moist to the touch. She did not act startled, but instead reached back a hand and tenderly held his.

Donna had been aware of the interloper for quite some time now. The rest of the family had been on a vacation and had returned to Madrid early, having left the older children in the care of a British nanny who didn't even know how to cook baked chicken. There had been a mixup in their baggage at the airport; the father had remained behind and he had sent the mother and young son home in a taxi. Donna had seen the party in full swing but instead of crashing it and sending everybody home she put the baby to bed, then slipped out for a dangerous dip nude in the pool - mere feet from the dance floor. Knowing her son's affinity for water, she had hoped that he might find her. He had, and she had smiled at how stealthy he pretended to be, and apparently though himself to be. Drunken sailor that he was, his careful entrance to the pool had really been a big splash and she had clearly seen him hiding in the pool shallows. It was easy enough to enchant him with her body, hair, and physique and to draw him to touch this mysterious femme fatale. He'd no idea that his parents were home early - drunk as he was, he had little enough idea of anything - and Donna was thrilled to have this brief interlude present itself so that she could rekindle the inferno of lust within that had been such an integral part of her own youth ~ not to mention the probative years of the boys' life, and her middle marriage.

It was dark enough that Donna really had no idea that the youth stalking her was in fact her son. The thrill mounted as she did the exercises, often even in full view of the party if anybody had bothered to look that way. As the figure approached and watched motionless as she did her famous double jointed split, she'd half expected a bold assault upon her body at that time; something she did not all together fear - alas, she was strong and agile and quite horny herself. Then when tender hands touched her pride and joy - flawless thighs and streamlined buttocks, it was clear to Donna that they were her son's hands - tenderly caressing as much the memory of motherly love as the craven flesh before him. It seemed a mirage to her as well, and she had to reach back and take his hand in hers before being convinced it was indeed her boy.

Any other young man in rut would have grasped her at the crotch, cusping her pubic mound in a strong palm while lithe fingers curled into her pubic hairs now becoming moist with vaginal flow. As it is, she had to take the boys hand and place it there herself, gently urging him on with sweet sounds of arousal and passion. As his hand grasped Donna's crotch, she pushed up with her arms and came to an upright position with her torso. The motion clamped the hand beneath her lightly. Reaching behind she found her son's other arm and brought it gently around to her front and placed it upon a breast - gasping aloud with the pleasure of his touch that she had to quickly reach down and bite his forearm gently to muffle the sound. This seemed to make the boy aware suddenly of their circumstances - alone with a naked woman feet away from a throbbing party, and who knows how many couples making out in the bushes all around them. The idea of being a public spectacle brought grit to his performance, and he fought off the alcohol stupor and pleasured this awesome dame with all the passion in his being.

With his one hand trapped beneath her, the other caressing her breasts; Donna swept her hair aside and offered the boy her long lithe neck. She adored how he kissed her from shoulder to ear, and made no qualms about moaning deep and long to express her immense arousal. Then he got himself to straddle one of her legs with his own, and their mouths found each other and they kissed deeply. She felt his prick hard on her thigh, and her hand found it and massaged it, producing reciprocal sounds of pleasure in him. 

Donna had intended to break the episode off by this point, not wanting to risk him discovering that he was making out with his own mother; much less his friends finding them out. Her gambit of pinning one arm at her crotch so he could not get around to see her face was not working well. Strong fingers were probing her clitoris and massaging her pleasure mound and conscious control of her bodily function was swiftly being taken over by the autonomic. Consumed with lust, her last cognizant act was to swing her legs together so that mother and son were lap to lap, and in the same motion to cover her face with her long black hair, parting only at the lips where they had become locked in a godly succor.

Donna arched upward at the pelvis and her son reluctantly removed his fingers from her womanhood, but before she knew it he was right back inside of her with his hard shaft. At the fuzzy edges of her conscious mind this deft maneuver by her drunken son quite impressed Donna, and she decided that a little animal sex would be possible between them now. Letting loose all inhibitions, she then overwhelmed the youth with every while in her repertoire - kissing him, driving him wild with her giant breasts; making loud noises so that he became afraid of discovery; smoothing sweat between their bodies to enhance the sensation and to cement the bond between them with a surface tension that quickly enveloped him in the same level of sexuality see was reeking of. 

They were writhing on the pool deck, which was now slick with sweat as it poured off both of them in the sultry latin humidity. Donna had an attentive, agile young tiger probing her body and exploring her every crook and cranny on top of her. Her back was sliding effortlessly across the smooth deck, bringing wild sensations from the friction to her butt and thighs and back and shoulders. Every nerve in her whole skin surface was alive with feeling, throbbing with pleasure, and charged with muscle tension. Then it all began to focus upon her vagina as the boys fucking picked up to a mad crescendo. She was so incredibly excited that her muscles around his prick contracted and he muttered into her ear a sweet apology to have taken her virginity. Donna kissed him lightly on the lips through a maze of sweat soaked hair; it's OK, keep going - you have no idea. 

Indeed, it felt like the very first time for Donna. She had been penetrated, excited, and even impregnated - but nothing on this level ever before. Even as a small boy, their loving trysts had been between small boy and grown woman; now their bodies were equally matched, and he was everywhere upon her - strong legs, powerful pelvis, mighty chest, and especially huge prick. The pretense of virginity excited the boy more; and her too, that he thought of this lust goddess as the physical equal of all the beautiful young girls attending the party. Donna squeezed him tight with her arms, scissored her legs wide to welcome him all the way into her; arched her back to offer up to him the full girth and grandness of her bountiful chest; and worked her pelvic muscles to grasp his prick so extremely tight that his mind short circuited at the thrill of being given her virginity by such an awesome being as he was then with.

They climaxed simultaneously, dual muscle spasms wrecking their from head to toe with wild harmonics and untoward sexual feelings. Arm in arm they rolled to one side, and breathing heavily; laughed at their boldness and promiscuity and relished their intimate proximity. He caressed Donna's breasts, played with her nipples; while her hands had found his prick and testicles all still sticky with semen. A soft breeze picked up and their sweat of exertion evaporated, leaving them cool to occasional shivering; and so they huddled even more closely together for warmth. Their lips met, tongues played outside of their mouths, then inside. The party faded from their awareness, and for him she faded too as he drifted into sleep with a most contented smile. Donna got up herself, clothed him lightly, then returned to the house in her bathrobe just as the father's car was pulling into the driveway. He was so enraged by the party that he didn't notice her disheveled, unkempt hair, the red friction rubs all over her torso, or even the sweet sticky smell of fresh semen mingled with hormonal secretions exacerbated by excitement and trauma, thrill and danger. While her husband was out crashing the party, she stood pensively in the shower watching the water fall at her feet, regretting to wash the sweet liqueur of love from off of her body, or to straighten the knots in her hair caused by the frantic ministrations her son had just done her. Steam arose from the water, enveloped the room in a thick warm fog, and momentarily Donna was beneath the cleansing stream imaging the hands caressing her body were his. She was fast asleep between crisp clean sheets by t he time the father turned in, cold and remote beside her. It didn't matter though because she was dreaming of stronger bodies, warmer hearts, and secret rendezvous by still waters.