We spent a long night out in the garden fucking and sucking each other, but by far the sexiest moments were those when I watched mum and Ginny doing things to each other. It was late when we staggered up to bed, but even then they hadn’t finished with me.
Mum reached for me and rolled on top of me whilst Ginny inserted my shaft into mum’s warm sex and when I came for the last time that night, mum squatted on her face and allowed my creamy cum to trickle out into her mouth.
As usual I was the last one to wake up at almost dinner time and found a note from mum saying she had taken Ginny home and that she’d be back by tea time.
I rang her mobile and got no reply so I made myself a coffee and went out into the garden, I was hung over and tired and it took me about ten minutes to fall asleep again under the hot mid-day sun.
It was teatime when I awoke to find a single sheet thrown over me and mum sitting at the computer when I went into the house.
“Hi darling,” she greeted me and kissed me lovingly. “I put the sheet over you to stop you burning.”
As we kissed I ran my hands down onto her bottom and felt the outline of a g-string beneath her short skirt.
“And stockings too, darling,” she giggled. “They make me feel so sexy when I’m wearing them.”
“You don’t need them to be sexy, mum.” I said as I lifted her skirt up and caressed her sexy little bottom. “But I think I need a shower.”
“Okay, I’ll make something to eat while you clean up and then I’ll show you what I bought in town this afternoon.”
It was actually an hour before I got anything to eat, because as I stood in the bathroom cleaning my teeth, I felt the hard points of her nipples in my back and a pair of hands encircling my waist.
“I feel too horny to eat at the moment, darling,” she said and her hands dipped downwards into my shorts. Her lips on my neck and her nibbling on my earlobe soon brought me to full erection.
“Fuck me in the shower, Johnny,” she whispered as she masturbated me gently. “I want this all the way up me.”
Most people go under the shower naked, but my mother wasn’t most people, she had on her stockings and panties and she leaned forward beneath the needle-sharp spray, jutting her sexy little bottom out towards me.
“That’s where I want it, Johnny, in my bum, all the way in.”
The water woke me up a bit; in fact a lot. I leaned into her, my penis between the cheeks of her bum, my lips on her neck and my hands on her breasts. It was her who pulled her g-string to one side and it was her who introduced my cock into the tiny little hole of her anus.
I pushed and she moaned, moving her bottom back against me.
“That’s it, Johnny, push darling, push it all the way in.”
I did and she giggled as I hooked my hands under both of her knees and picked her up bodily, the weight of her own body forced herself down onto my cock and she squealed as I reached depths of her anus that no one had reached before.
“Oh fuck, Johnny, oh God, oh fuck.”
I began moving slowly in and out, her whole weight in my arms but I don’t think she noticed as I drove my hard, thick cock up into her rectum. I heard the hiss of her urine as she lost control of her bladder, she rested her head against the wall and sighed happily.
“Beautiful, darling,” she whispered. “It’s just fucking beautiful.”
I was fucking her hard and deep feeling my own climax approaching, I reached a hand around her front and found the swollen nub of her clitoris.
“I’m cumming, mum,” I gasped and squeezed her clitoris gently, she wiggled her bottom sexily and I felt the rectal muscles inside her squeezing me.
“Let me feel it, Johnny, come on baby shoot it, give me your spunk.”
Ramming two fingers into the swamp that was her cunt, I let myself go, and as jet after jet of hot creamy spunk gushed into her anus, she pissed again and screamed.
“Johnny, Johnny, oh god, fuck me! Fuck my fucking dirty arsehole, ARRRGGGHHH.”
What she’d bought in town was a pair of laptop computers. I was thrilled to bits with mine and we spent a quiet night in playing with them and generally surfing until mum said, “Look at this, darling.”
On the screen she showed me a picture of a girl of about eighteen or so, legs wide apart with a little pair of pink panties in her hand, over the next fifteen or so pictures, she gradually shoved them up into her pussy and the final few showed her licking and sucking them with obvious pleasure.
There was an e.mail address with the pictures and mum sent a message with our e.mail address and a brief note saying that she and her young toy boy lover (me) would love to meet up for drinks and to see what happened.
As we were both dog tired then we went to bed and for the first time since our relationship had begun, we went to sleep in each others arms.
For once I woke up before her and for some strange reason I had a bloody jingle in my head. In dad’s old studio I scribbled it down and played a couple of keys on the piano. It sounded great, but I needed another opinion so I woke mum up and together with her sleepy head on my shoulder we listened to the recording I’d made.
“Well, what do you think, mum?”
She reached up on her tip toes and nuzzled my neck.
“I think we should take it to the agency, Johnny, it’s brilliant.”
“Is it catchy enough?”
She giggled and asked me to go back to bed. “It’s more than catchy, Johnny, and you know it is, but why not take it further and make it into a song?”
“I’ve never written a song, mum, I wouldn’t know how to.”
“Right, sit down at that piano, think about carrying on that tune, think of words to fit it and then think of a major star who you think it might suit,” she smiled and kissed me.
“I’ll do our breakfast, although I’m not sure whether or not it should be supper, and when I come back, I’ll expect at least a million seller, right?”
“Only one million, mum?”
“It’ll do for a start; go for it, before the mood leaves you.”
An hour later mum rang the agency that we used and played it to the head honcho, a man called Graham, who used to handle all of dad’s work for him.
“I’ll call you back,” he said and rang off, leaving mum a bit nonplussed but laughing.
The first company to take it up was an international fizzy drink manufacturer. They wanted it so much that they even agreed to our stance, that we kept the copyright and after their series of adverts had run for a month, we were free to record it.
A top flight Australian lady, (not very tall and with the sexiest bum in show biz,) phoned and asked if she could come round to discuss possible musical arrangements with me for the song, and of course I agreed immediately.
I was over the moon at that and mum was pleased too, although slightly miffed, I suspect at my reaction to such a famous singer coming round to see me personally.
She arrived that afternoon in a chauffeur-driven limo and proceeded to charm both of us with her wit, knowledge and her sheer vitality.
“Can I record it, Johnny?”
“Sure, but you can’t release it until after the advertising campaign is over.”
“I’m going to release it as a single and then in an album of my greatest hits that I’m working on now.”
That bit made me laugh; I’d only written it a couple of hours ago and this major international star was talking about recording it as one of her greatest hits.
I was still laughing over six weeks later when it entered the charts at number two in Britain, number one in the U.S.A., and the following week it went to number one in Britain and seven other countries.
“Millions, Johnny,” mum said as we read the morning papers over breakfast on the balcony of the hotel we were staying at, “It’s going to sell bloody millions.”
“I think you’ll find it already has mum,” I laughed, but mum looked serious for a moment.
“But I wish you’d tell me why you don’t want any publicity at all, darling. Is it because of me, the lifestyle that goes with fame, the drugs, what? Just tell me, darling.”
“Mum, do you remember that time a couple of weeks ago when we visited dad’s grave?”
“Of course.”
“Do you remember that tiny little grave that belonged to a baby who died two hours after his birth?”
She nodded. “Yes, darling, but that was twenty years ago when he died.”
“Well I stole his name; look.”
I went into our bedroom and took out a little attaché case I’d kept pretty well hidden from her.
“I went to the registrar of births and deaths and told them I’d lost all my identity documents in a burglary.They asked me my name and date of birth, I gave them the name on the baby’s grave and a week later I received new papers, a new national insurance card, everything I need to do what I want to do.”
“Which is what?”
I grinned and got up again. This time I went into my suitcase and took out a tiny little box; as I returned to the balcony, mum was crying.
“Mum.”
“You’re leaving me, aren’t you, Johnny?”
“Mum, look at me please.”
“It’s okay, darling, I knew it would have to happen sooner or later.”
“Mum!” I shouted and as she turned round I took hold of her hand.
“Mum if I live to be a hundred, I’d never find anyone who comes anywhere near to you, in looks, personality or anything else I can mention, that’s why I did what I did.”
She was still sobbing, I longed to take her into my arms, but I needed to do this first.
Dropping down onto one knee, I took the ring out of the little box and slipped it onto her finger.
“I have a new name mum, a completely new identity,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “And now I want a new wife.”
For several seconds there was complete silence, even her tears had stopped, then she sank down to the floor in a complete faint.
We stayed on the island for a further three weeks to establish residential status and then we were married one blazing hot day on the beach outside our hotel, mum wore just white bikini panties and a white face veil. I wore white shorts and when the priest said the magical words that bound us together she made me the happiest man on earth.
