I made a halfhearted attempt to wheedle the name of the friend out of her, but V refused to break the confidence, and I knew she never would. I didn’t press it, but have spent some time trying to put it together on my own, thus far without success. Which of V’s friends has a brother who is six years younger? Someday I will figure it out and then enjoy V’s reaction when I tell her.
As we ate our breakfast and discussed the events of last evening, we felt we had crossed over into a dreamlike parallel existence. We had been fundamentally changed by what we witnessed.
We looked out the open windows of our airy dining room toward Karen and Paul’s cottage and saw Karen on the screened-in porch, dressed in a sports bra and yoga shorts, her long and luxurious hair tied up in a bun, going through her morning practice.
Seeing her fabulous body in the various poses captivated me I could hardly take my eyes off this wickedly sexy mother. She had the body of a MILF porn star. I looked at her and marveled, That woman had sex with her son last night!
“She certainly did,” V said, shaking me out of my reverie.
“What?” I asked, now mentally as well as physically back in my chair.
“She had sex with her son last night!”
“Did I say that out loud?”
“You did,” V replied with a laugh, “but I was thinking the exact same thing.”
I shook my head, still amazed by it.
It was not unheard of, we knew, for siblings to fool around, particularly during the heady, experimental teen years when parents are often absent for significant periods of time and casual summer fun by the pool and idle curiosity can lead to the bedroom. But a mother and son affair seemed that rarest of all taboo relationships.
The ones I read about were generally a young single mother raising a teen boy alone, but Karen is a mature woman in an ostensibly stable marriage, obviously well-to-do, evidently highly sexed, whom we spied in the throes of bliss with her adult son, who was an enthusiastic partner. We had stumbled onto the sexual version of plutonium.
We cleared off the table, rinsed the dishes, and loaded the dishwasher. The question then became, what to do with our day and how to act if we encountered Karen and Paul. Our intent was to be as natural as possible. Our prurient interest aside, we liked them both and could foresee socializing with them during the week, much as we had the night before.
They seemed to be able to act perfectly normal around other people, save for the few hints that my ever-perceptive Vanessa picked up the day before. Perhaps only one who has experienced such a relationship would be able to spot the signs. At least on the surface they were able to compartmentalize their lives; showing others a healthy mother-son relationship, while wickedly succumbing to their lust in private.
After breakfast we walked down to the beach. As we passed our neighbors we could see Karen folded into child’s pose so we did not disturb her with morning greetings.
The sky was blue and unmarred by clouds. The surf was calm and perhaps a half mile out a pair of wave runners bounced over what little chop there was on this calm day. We walked for about a short distance toward the resort end of the island, then back toward our spot.
Nothing much was said between my wife and me on that outward leg, but there was much significance in the silence. Finally, Vanessa broached the subject we were both thinking.
“If the opportunity arises, do you mind if I get naked with Paul?”
“Do you think it will?”
“I don’t know,” V replied, unsure of what to do next. “I sensed something last night, but it’s difficult to know. Obviously it’s not the first time he and his mother have made love.”
“I know. I guess it depends on the nature of their relationship. I can’t imagine their exclusive. After all, Paul has a girlfriend, at least to keep up appearances. But in answer to your question: I don’t mind.”
V smiled up at me and gave me a lingering kiss. Her flings with other men are only occasional — and those with other women even more so — but she always comes back to me. Our arrangement is unconventional, though perhaps not as unconventional as the arrangement between Paul and Karen, but it works.
Nevertheless, we would try to act natural around them so they wouldn’t be on to how much we knew, and saw. Perhaps V wouldn’t be able to bed Paul, but the prospect added a thick layer of excitement to our vacation.
The knock on the door after lunch gave us a bit of a start, but it turned out to be a smiling Karen, asking if we wanted to go to the beach. It seems everything was customary and our mission of last night went undetected. Paul had ridden his bike down the path toward the condos where his girlfriend was staying with her parents and Karen could use our company, though I sensed it would be agreeable to both ladies if I stayed back, which was no problem.
I needed to run some errands in the village so Vanessa quickly changed into a swimsuit, packed up some gear, and headed out with the sinful mother. After taking a few minutes to admire the retreating figures of both ladies, I hopped in the car and headed to town. It was over dinner that evening that Vanessa related in colorful detail the afternoon she spent with Karen.
After some small talk about the beauties of the island that put Vanessa further at ease, Karen dropped the bomb.
“So, you’re probably wondering about what you saw last night,” she asked with a sly grin.
V’s jaw practically landed in her lap and her face was flushed with embarrassment.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “How did you know?”
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Karen said reassuringly. “I happened to glance in that direction and I saw the shadows of your heads between the blinds. I figured it had to be you two. It was a turn-on knowing you were there. Did you enjoy watching us?”
Vanessa admitted that we did, and related how she silently brought herself to a climax and that I had unloaded on her back. Karen laughed at the thought and was evidently relaxed about it. She freely admitted that Vanessa and I could make a lot of trouble for her and Paul if we told anyone, but V assured her that we had no interest in doing any such thing.
“I’ll bet you have a lot of questions,” Karen said and both ladies laughed.
Karen filled the next hour and a half with the story of how she got involved with her son. It was a good thing they both thought to bring umbrellas, which provided ample shade while Vanessa sat enthralled at Karen’s tale.
Karen’s husband Brandon headed up the family’s far flung enterprise, just as his father and grandfather had before him. The family was wealthy, but the price was that Brandon traveled a great deal on business, leaving Karen alone more than she liked. The lifestyle was ample compensation, but she naturally got lonely. A highly sexual woman, she kept an assortment of toys that were satisfying but not the same as giving herself to a man.
When Paul left for college, his parents’ marriage changed in fundamental ways that he couldn’t have grasped. First, Karen and Brandon agreed to an arrangement whereby each of them could fool around during their long separations, as long as tact and discretion were used. Then during the periods when Brandon was at home, they would carry on as before. Well, with a few changes.