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An English Vacation, Ch.2, , mf
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
This continues the reposting of the story _An English Vacation_
which I am doing as a favor to the author. Again, be aware that
the story in these first two chapters contains an underage teenager
and an incestuous relationship. Coming chapters contain other
controversial themes.
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AN ENGLISH VACATION
by Irving Washington
II. A New Day
Three male faces loomed before her, each grim. The
countenances were shadowed but terrifyingly familiar. She could
make out that they differed greatly in age.
"Naughty! Naughty girl!"
The words echoed from three mouths as she stood cowering
in front of them, head lowered in shame. She wore a simple girl-
ish dress with a short flared skirt, white cotton anklets and pa-
tent leather shoes. She could feel she was naked beneath the
thin dress. The booming voices sent chills of fear and excite-
ment down her spine to her rear sphincter which clenched spasmod-
ically. She opened her mouth to protest, to beg, to plead that
she hadn't done anything wrong, that she wasn't being naughty...
And was shaken awake by the bed bouncing beneath her.
It was already light, but the red digits on the bedside
clock showed 5:30. From some stray memory synapse her mind made
precise the time as A.M., Greenwich Time. That connection caused
memories to slowly slide into place in her sleepy brain as the
vivid dream lost its hold and faded. She was left with the mys-
teriously vibrating bed.
Liz MacKenzie turned toward the boy sleeping next to her.
He was on his stomach, mouth open, with almost a grimace distort-
ing his features. The quilt had been pushed down and she could
see his underwear-clad hips grinding rapidly into the mattress.
His breathing became rapid barking gasps as his hand pushed under
him toward his abdomen.
She almost panicked, almost grabbed and shook him or
screamed for help or something equally stupid. Just in time she
realized that for the first time in her life she was witnessing a
male in the grips of a wet dream. It was something she had al-
ways tried to imagine in her erotic thoughts about men. She
watched in aroused silence as the pace frenzied, he stiffened,
and then his hips rammed into the bed and he growled out his
climax. She suddenly desperately wanted to use her fingers, a
pillow, anything, to duplicate for her awake and almost painfully
stimulated self what her son had just done asleep.
Fortunately, he stayed asleep, so she had time to collect
her thoughts. To her credit, even though she knew he had uncons-
ciously masturbated in incestuous lust for her body, she never
felt angry, but instead sympathized immediately. The night be-
fore he had viewed her entire body, had rubbed and caressed her
nakedness through a towel. He had seen things and done things
beyond the wildest dreams of a thirteen year old boy. She was
surprised he had been able to sleep at all without relief. She
certainly had had trouble. And now he's going to wake up to damp
embarrassment with no way to hide it. She tried to think of how
she could pretend nothing had happened, or be out of bed when he
got up. She decided that nothing like that would work. Well,
she was intimately involved, was his mother, and was placed in a
situation where only openness could possibly work. So she laid
back, closed her eyes, and tried to get a little more sleep be-
fore he awoke.
She only dozed, her mind filled with thoughts and
memories that did nothing to alleviate the sexual ache in her
body. It was still only about 6:00 A.M. when she felt purposeful
movement against her hip. Then a mournful groan and a loud
whisper:
"Shit!"
He had turned onto his back, their sides touching. She
rolled toward him and lifted herself on an elbow. Now her pelvis
was pressed against his side and one bare breast rested on his
shoulder. She suddenly realized she was presenting him with a
closeup view of her naked chest, but she didn't want to make ei-
ther of them self-conscious by squirming away at this particular
moment.
"Good morning, son. It gets light early here, doesn't
it?"
He mumbled a reply. She could tell that he was trapped
between the desire to move away so she wouldn't feel the sticky
wetness of his shame, or to snuggle closer against that nipple
which was hot against his flesh.
"Jimmy, I know what happened." She touched his briefs.
He jerked as if a live wire had touched him. "Believe me,
there's nothing to be ashamed of. It happens to all virile young
men, especially after a sexually frustrating night."
"Aawww, mom." He first made as if to turn away, hands
covering his groin, but then realized he had the excuse to cud-
dle. He moved his head toward her, placing his cheek against her
lower breast while his breath ignited lustful embers in her upper
one. She flushed as he watched a nipple swell and harden.
She breathed deeply but didn't move away. "Now listen.
No damage has been done except to a pair of underpants which I
will be happy to wash out for you. Now stay exactly as you are,
young man, and that's an order."
She drew away from him and rose from the bed, still near-
ly naked. The sink was on her side so she merely turned to it,
took a wash rag, and wetted it thoroughly with warm water. During
the night her french cut panties had drawn up completely into her
buttocks furrow, so Jimmy had a magnificent view. She wondered
why she had put on this particular pair of panties, panties she
usually only wore when they were likely to be admired. Returning
to the bed, she knelt over her wide-eyed son, placed the rag on
his stomach and gently started pulling down his sticky jockey
shorts.
"Mom!" But he remained motionless, only closing his
eyes.
She tugged the briefs off his feet and threw them into
the sink. Then, reclaiming the washcloth, she began to gently
wash his abdomen and smooth, boyish sex organs. Her original in-
tention was to give him reassurance and motherly care, but from
the first moment her fingers touched his secret flesh another
part of her being took over. She somehow resisted an almost
overpowering urge to kiss his limp penis, but could not keep from
stroking and petting it with her soft fingers as well as with the
cloth.
The fact that only thirty minutes had passed since his
last climax meant nothing to a thirteen year old adolescent with
a beautiful, almost-naked woman's deft hands caressing him.
Jimmy's head came up and his eyes gaped as his mother lifted his
cock with one hand, alternately squeezing and tickling it, and
spread the warm cloth around his balls with the other. He was
hard again in seconds. Her expression didn't change - even
though her pulse rate doubled - as she held the stiff member up
by its base and gently, but oh so thoroughly, bathed it.
"There, I think that's got you clean. Just a second,
I'll get a towel."
Her eyes never left his groin as she tossed the rag in
the sink and found a hand towel. She came back and wrapped him
in the terry cloth, then gently rubbed and rubbed and rubbed to
dry him off. Finally she squeezed the towel encircling his hard
cock, then pulled up firmly to complete the job. As the rough
terry cloth slid up and off he almost 'came' along with it. A
moment of silence followed as his breathing slowed down. Both of
them seemed hypnotized by his pulsing cock.
"Mom, jeez," he looked at her naked breasts, her reveal-
ing panties, "I guess I should thank you. That really felt...
God, it felt good. But what do I do now? If I even last till
tonight it's going to happen again. But, Mom, I don't think I
can last until tonight."
She slowly drifted out of her sensual haze and returned
to mother mode.
Oh, damn. She felt her color rise: what had she been
thinking of? If she had washed it immediately, while he was
still sated... No, with a teenager there's probably zero recovery
time. Each time I do something it gets me in deeper and deeper.
Now he was close to demanding that some sort of sexual activity
occur.
"I'm sorry, Jimmy, I didn't think. I just didn't want
you to be embarrassed. This is going to sound completely crazy,
but we'll have to change the rules so masturbation is allowed.
No, not just allowed, encouraged. If you want to, well, 'jack
off' now. Feel free. We can't have you walking around like that
all day, these British girls would steal you away from me." She
tried to smile while his expression became unfathomable. He al-
most looked like a chess master working out strategies many moves
in the future.
"Really? It's okay?" His face became, too suddenly,
youthful again. His expression resolved into innocent puzzle-
ment. "Do girls mistibate too? Cause I can see that you're ex-
cited just like me."
Her arms instinctively wrapped themselves around her tor-
so to shield herself. "Jimmy! How dare you!" But she looked
down and saw that all the signs that she had taught him were
visible. Nipples stiff as soldiers, and her panties! She'd have
to wash them along with his cum-stained shorts. Between her
spread thighs the whole shield area was discolored and visibly
damp. She dropped her arms, defeated - to the relief of her son,
who was knew there was a possibility that she would blow her top
again.
"Yes, Jimmy," she breathed deeply, "women do mASTURbate.
And, yes, I guess I've become sexually excited handling you. But
I don't think it would be a good idea at all for me to do...
things... in front of you. Remember, I'm your mother, and you're
only thirteen."
"Well then, remember, I'm your son, Mom! Do you think it
would be easy for me to beat my meat with you just watching? And
you need to do it as bad as me, don't you? You didn't have a wet
dream, and you were excited last night, too. I saw!"
He beamed at his youthful logic. When his mother didn't
reply, but only stared blankly at him, he sensed correctly that
he had won if he proceeded without reawakening her sense of
responsibility.
He gently put his hands on her shoulders and moved her
down onto her back next to him on the bed. No resistance. So he
sat up and, grasping the sides of her panties in his two hands,
slid them down her body. As he pulled them away from her crotch
he could feel the wet stickiness attempting to hold them in
place. His mother felt it, too, and she seemed to surrender to
the evidence of her secret, burning lust, lifting her hips and
legs to help him.
He tossed the garment next to his in the sink.
He moved her legs apart, displaying her sex as fully as
in the Penthouse photos he loved. He was happy she trimmed her
pubic hair away from her snatch, like most of the Pets did. He
knew the little knob near the top of her damp lips was called a
clit. And it was bigger and redder than it had been last night.
He heard what sounded like a stifled sob in her throat.
Lifting her far hand, he placed it on her mound and
draped its fingers down onto her pussy. The close hand he placed
on her tittie.
"Show me, mom." He whispered. "Show me what girls do."
As if a robot under voice control, her hands started to
move. He saw her stroke her breast delicately, then work at her
nipple with the tips of her fingers. Small, pimple-like bumps
covered her aureole around the stiff nipple. Soon she was pinch-
ing and pulling at the dark central nubbin, harder and harder.
She groaned but kept at it, seemingly in a trance.
At the same time her other hand began moving, her fingers
lightly skipping over the whole region from her navel, down to
her pelvic bones and pubic hair, around her swollen pussy lips
and onto her inner thighs. After what seemed to be minutes of
this teasing, her three middle fingers began concentrating on the
lips, the middle one lightly stroking up over the red swollen
button - her clit! The other two started to press against the
sides of the clit's sheath as she concentrated on this area ex-
clusively. They were always talking about 'clits' in Penthouse
Letters. According to the letter writers, it was what really
turned a chick on. And boy, it was working on his mother! Her
hips were beginning to move in rhythm with her stroking.
The surprising success of his gambit so far made him want
to try more. Her eyes were now open, but she was staring at the
ceiling, as if trying to convince herself she was alone. She
felt his hand gently pull hers away from her tit. He laid this
arm along her side between their close bodies, and as it relaxed,
he moved slightly so the back of her hand rested against his hard
prick. She felt one of his hands start to knead the soft, full
breast her hand had abandoned, and she shook her head no, but her
other hand kept pressing and teasing her aroused clitoris. When
he pulled that hand away, stopping her now compulsive masturba-
tion, he had to tug firmly as she groaned and resisted. He drew
it up to her far breast where it automatically began copying the
motions of his caressing hand, tweaking the engorged nipple with
three fingers.
Now his free hand moved to her belly. The skin - his
mother's delicate skin! - was wonderfully soft and smooth. Her
stomach muscles rippled and she groaned "Nnnnooooo" at his touch,
but he copied her earlier touches until his fingers were gently
brushing her inner thighs and perineum. He concentrated on this
region, even tickling her anus briefly, then moved up with three
fingers, as he had watched her do, onto her labia and to her cli-
toris. He pressed the nub with his middle finger, then released
and squeezed the sides with index and ring fingers, repeating
this pattern rhythmically, until her pelvis again began to move
in response. His explorations were not complete, however. He
decided to solve THE puzzle.
The ultimate adolescent boy's question has always been
'Where's the fuck-hole?" There has to be one, but even the
spread shots in the girlie magazines don't show any way a big
hard dick could get up inside the girl. Jimmy had to find out.
His three fingers moved down his mother's slit, pressing inward,
and suddenly, amazingly, they were sucked into a wet, clinging
pit!
"Aaaaahhhh!! Jimmy! NO! You can't do that!" But she
wasn't screaming, just whispering loudly, her head shaking rapid-
ly back and forth, but her eyes still blankly focused on the
plaster ceiling.
He knew enough not to take her at her word. She was ab-
solving herself from responsibility as his mother, nothing more.
Instead he removed his other hand from her breast and used it to
wrap her free hand around his hard cock. She grasped it with a
fervor that was almost painful to him. As he began moving his
fingers in and out of her foaming cunt, she kept up a counter-
point on his rigid dick.
After just a few seconds, he knew he would cum if she
continued. He moved her hand down from his cock to his balls.
"Slow down a little, mom. This is the most awesome thing ever to
happen to me - with the sexiest broad in the world. I don't want
to shoot right away."
Impulsively he leaned down and kissed her lightly on the
lips while wiggling his fingers in her hot hole. She emitted a
guttural sigh and pulled him down onto her, kissing him pas-
sionately with open lips and invading tongue. He learned quick-
ly, and they stayed entwined, his fingers driving deeper and
deeper, again and again into her splayed cunt. Meanwhile, with
womanly expertise, her fingers gently touched and teased, stroked
and squeezed his inner thighs, balls, and throbbing prick.
Finally, her hip movements became frenzied. Strange
sounds came from the back of her throat. She closed her fist on
his iron-hard cock and pistoned rapidly up and down. He matched
her motion, keeping his fingers slightly spread and stiff as they
rammed into her. As he felt the sperm rising inexorably from his
balls, his mother's hips rose a foot - no, two feet! - off the
bed and her cunt gaped so wide his fingers couldn't feel the
sides. Her face was a grimace as she tried to stifle a scream.
"Ooohhhh! G-g-godddd! M-m-m-mommm!" His cry couldn't
be stifled as an explosion of his cum spurted violently all the
way up to her chin with such force that it splattered. Then her
inner muscles contracted mightily and squeezed his invading hand
like a vise. Gasping, she opened again just as he shot a second
wad onto her breasts. Their mutual contractions kept on and on
and on... until hers diminished to twitches of her pelvis, and
his to dribblings onto her belly.
He flopped down onto his back, completely spent. They
lay side by side, afraid to look at each other, as their breath-
ing returned to normal.
"Jimmy..." Her voice trailed off. She could think of
nothing to say, no way to give voice to the turmoil of emotions
she felt. After a few minutes - an eternity to both of them -
his hand edged slowly to hers and gently held it. She squeezed.
He squeezed in return. Their communication complete, both closed
their eyes and slept as the new day brightened around them.
STAY TUNED FOR CHAPTER 3.
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