Vacation in Lockdown Ch. 03

tagIncest/TabooVacation in Lockdown Ch. 03

All characters in the story are above 18, readers must also be above 18.
This is a story about Barry, Catherine and their son Calvin.
This is a final chapter of a long story with an underlying Incest theme.
Day 11 of Lockdown
Mom was nonchalant about her missing top, and she walked casually in the bathroom when I came out. Surprisingly she hadn't bothered with the top, despite the time I was in the bathroom relieving myself in more ways than one.
She was sitting next to Dad on his side they were chatting about something in a low tone, not whispering but just talking softly. When I clicked the door open, their conversation stopped. Mom stood and turned to use the bathroom, and we crossed on her walk to the bathroom. I was just in a daze because she hadn't put a t-shirt on or even her black bikini top lying right there in the middle of the bed, which she must have taken off last night.
It was sunny outside, and then I realized why we had better lighting last night. It was because the curtains were drawn less than regular, and it had let-in more light than usual in the night. I could sear they stayed drawn every night because Mom hated light coming in at night. I moved on without looking towards Dad and ended up near the coffee kettle. I poured myself a cup and sat on the far corner of the sofa to avoid any eye contact with anyone, especially Dad. I did not know what to say in any case. I pulled out my phone to fiddle.
Mom took longer than usual to come on out. Dad already had a cup of coffee in his hand, and when he finished his, he got up and went into the bathroom without Mom having exited it.
Mom came out after a while, and she had a large grin on her face. She had decided to go with Dad's boxers, and she had on my T-shirt. She had caught up on washing her clothes, or at least some of them it seemed. She hung her clothes to dry at every corner or hook, or whatever she could find.
Before she started her routine, she came to me, sat side-saddle on my lap, and hooked her hands around my neck. She planted a kiss on my lips and then added a couple of long ones. No tongue. My hands found their way up behind her and held her shoulders so I could tilt her some, and to keep on kissing her. I brought my hand up her front – on top of the T-shirt. I crept up to her right breast, nearer to me. My lips staying on her lips. Before I could go any further, she pulled back from my mouth but did not swat my hand off. She said, "Having fun?"
I said, "I love you Mom?" which more than said what was needed, in response to her rhetorical question.
Pat came the response, "Not as much as I do sweetheart." We both cracked at that. She had lightened the mood immediately.
She got up for her routine and started her yoga in front of the TV. My interest in yoga was developing consistently. Midway during her routine Dad came out of the bathroom ready after his shower. He went to the kitchenette for making sandwiches to be had for our breakfast.
Mom to Dad's lap, as had become customary for breakfast. She sat with her right arm around his shoulder. She tilted forward a little as well, making her right hand redundant. She started eating the cereal from her left, and it was somewhat clumsy, but she managed.
After a few spoonfuls, a couple of drops of milk let slip from her lips, and it slid towards her chin. She made a slight "mmm" sound, and Dad looked up. She was setting her spoon down before lifting her hand to clear the milk drops from the chin. On seeing the milk on her chin, Dad pulled her down a little and tilted his head and took her chin in his lips to lick her clean. As if depositing it in her mouth, he then took Mom's lips into his and kissed long enough for the frivolity of it to be apparent. I was looking at this play out, and one could say I was staring.
After the kiss, Mom saw me looking and gave me a big smile.
The breakfast went in this frolic between Mom and Dad. To prove that her left hand was equally capable she lifted her spoonful this one time to feed him and ended up spill some on his chin. Then she dived into his face to lick clean the milk from his chin. The entire thing was playful amongst them, it looked erotic to an audience sitting across the table.
Her dress seemed to have been a repeat of what she had worn a few days back. The Smock yellow dress with no shoulders but thin strings on them. The dress fabric was elastic sewn in the fabric. The dress clung from above her breasts down to her hips and then flared out from her hips. Its length was thigh level.
Around an hour later, Mom was on the bed reading and Dad on the TV. I joined her on the bed and had no plan to do anything but just wanted to stay close to her.
Her back was resting on the headboard, and she was slightly slumped while sitting. She held the book in her left hand resting on her legs with knees folded, supporting the book. With her right, she occasionally turned a page. I slipped next to her with a small nod of an acknowledgment from her. She was engrossed in the book. I rested my head right next to her right side on the headboard, facing towards her.
My hand started brushing her very slowly on her forearm. In between, she would lift her arm to turn a page, and then it would fall back from where it had lifted as if permitting to go ahead and keep brushing her arm. I continued my slow rubbing on her arm, as light as a tickle. I might not have realized it then, but the frequency of her arm going up to turn the page had reduced. She went back up to turn the page in longer intervals, clearly because I had slowed her pace of reading.
In one such hand lift, I took my hand in another direction and started brushing her right breast on its periphery. Her hand had come down, and probably she would have wanted me to continue the brushing on her arm, but I had found new territory to roam. After some ten long circles, I took hold of her right breast. I lifted my hand slowly but surely and pulled it on top of her right breast and slowly held it. In my mind, I thought it going to fall off, and it needed saving from rolling off from her chest. Then it must have required some massage because my hand was kneading it a minute later. My hand was on her breast with just the fabric of her dress between our contact. I raised my hand to the string held on her right shoulder, and drew it down from off her shoulder and let it fall in her arm.
The elastic embedded fabric held firm on her breasts. With the string off her shoulder, I continued to carry it all the way off her arm and even lifted her elbow to let the loop off from her forearm. Her hand allowed the move, she couldn't immediately respond to what I was doing. Next, I took hold of the top hem of the dress and bared her right breast nearest to me.
Her breast in all its radiant beauty lay bare in front of me. I restarted my massage with my right hand. She paid no heed to it, considering she had him see it already just earlier in the morning, and I had already played with it just previous night and also earlier in the morning on the sofa. Next in my mind, her breast needed some love, and I lowered my head on her nipple for a kiss.
She let out a small whimper, "aaah"
I took that as a home run and started sucking. I sucked her breast ever so slowly and calmly. I was in no rush, we had nowhere to go. I had all the time in the world. My sucking was having its desired effect; Mom brought her right hand into my hair and started rolling her fingers in my hair. She kept looking at the book as if this were the most natural thing for us to do while she carried on reading.
In Mom's mind, she rationalized this was an extension of what had already been done and established. This was a recap of a boundary that we had already reached. An audience and daylight were just semantics.
My mouth worked on Mom with extreme slowness, and it was torturous for her I presume. The fact that there was no fresh boundary in itself that I was breaching, also became my goal. Having achieved it, I just savored it for the longest time. Nobody was going to say something to me that had already been done. So I kept going on, giving it my love. I had her tit in my right hand and was holding and squeezing it from below and while my lips were glued around her areola and my tongue played ping-pong with her rubbery nipple. All I heard from her were moans of approval and the book in her hand remained pegged on her knee but it had been many minutes since she hadn't turned a page, not only because her hand was in my hair.
On the far end of the sofa, Dad had no reason to look at the TV any longer. His eyes and Mom's were locked. Dad's trouser had a massive bulge in front. Mom's right hand in my hair pushed me into her breast, while Dad looked at her.
After over half an hour, Mom pulled on my hair signaling playtime was over. I pulled my head off from her breast, and I got up, without looking at Dad, into the bathroom. I had to jack off to relieve myself.
I gave a muffled guttural grunt, "aaagh," that only Mom could have through the bathroom door because she was on the bed that was nearby. My voice could not have reached Dad with TV opposite him.
Later, Dad prepared lunch, and I stayed away from him, lest he ends up using a knife on me I thought. I stuck to the bed while Mom helped him. They talked while they were cooking half the time laughing, and another half talking softly. Dad was handsy all the while he cooked lunch.
I kept my head low while having lunch. Mom realized I was conscious and that I was behaving slightly restrained. Since she was on my lap, she kissed me on my lips in front of Dad and then looked at me smiling. Her purpose was to get me at ease and to signal that she had Dad's approval and he was okay with my transgressions – at least I'd like to believe this was what she wanted me to feel. I did not kiss her back. I just looked at her in admiration.
Somewhere after that, she went to the bathroom, and later we gathered for our Poker session on the bed. During our cards session in the afternoon, Mom's dress rose high right up to her hips many times. Both Mom and I were sitting with our backs to the headboard and Dad opposite us.
To me, it looked very sexy that the skirt of her dress was raised right up to her thigh. I could see her complete thigh all the way from my side. She blatantly cheated in the game and Dad, and I let it pass smiling all the while. Her tell was she giggled faintly while she did that. Dad could not care less – He kept his view towards her legs and looked straight into her thighs because he was sitting opposite her open legs. I would not know why.
I did my stairs climb exercise, and Mom did not join me. When I came back from the stairs, I was dumbstruck.
Dad was worked-up like hell from Mom's teasing. She had apparently decided to sit in the poker card game without panties below her dress. Even while she kept her direction towards Dad, every once in a while she opened her legs wide enough to let him have a full view of her quim.
The fact this was something he had seen a thousand times was beside the point. He was charged from the fact that their son was less than a yard from them, and She was teasing mercilessly. There came a point where Mom just let her legs stay apart, and his laser eyes saw the wet pussylips pulsing on her vagina.
As soon as I walked out of the studio towards the stairs, Dad shucked his clothes and didn't need to take her dress off. He laid her down and started driving into her. His cock was hard like metal and its veins pulsing. Dad's drive into her took only two-seconds, that's how pent up he was. He started pumping immediately thereafter. His grunts were louder than hers, but they crackled together.
If her motive to get him horny she had achieved that with flying colors. Having fucked her last night, ideally a second session this close would qualify as a short gap for him. But not when he was so charged, and rock hard cock showed her the effect her tease had caused. He paid no heed to the noises they both made and the grunts, he just pumped her wildly.
"uuuunggh," he wailed.
"AAAAAGH," she responded aligned with his grunt. She was in heaven. She had brought out the best in him.
He swore to hold back for as long as possible, but certainly, her teasing had had an effect. He was driving into Mom with long pulls, and this was as delightful for Mom as it was becoming for Dad.
She was below him and legs spread wide, and she made sure his every push into her was received into the bottom of her pussy.
When I walked into the apartment, Mom and Dad were grunting loud and going at it feverishly. I was glued at my feet on the floor next to the main door inside the flat. I looked at them as if I had never seen a sex scene. Come to think of it in reality I had never seen one live. It was playing in front of me in all its carnal glory.
Seconds before Dad was going to cum, Mom rose up on her elbows to look into his eyes. She kissed him on the chest and took his tiny nipple in her mouth. He started spurting, and his grunts grew louder hereon. From her one eye, she saw me on the far corner, and she started cumming as soon as our eyes locked. She became stone still, and she continued to cum and kept breathing rapidly with puckered lips almost whistling. She had paused her physical actions on seeing me, and that enabled our eyes to continue to look into each other. Her orgasm continued to build up instead of coming down it shook her. Eventually, her elbows turned to jelly, and she fell back. She was still quivering when Dad stopped. Her head arched back, and her back stayed lifted from the bed into Dad's cock.
Post her orgasm she went limp, and Dad got off from her on the far end and slid next to her on the bed. Her pussy was in my open view though slightly angled. I couldn't see in between her thighs even while I stood around five yards from her; they both noted my presence. She did not move her legs an inch to hide the pussy-lips, not bothering whether I could see up her thighs.
Dad turned a roll further and made way into the bathroom. Mom continued to lie on the bed and turned her head towards me; her dress was lifted beyond her hips. She looked at me and smiled a big one at me. Her right hand lifted in my direction. I slowly lifted my iron clamped feet and moved the distance to reach next to her.
Our hands connected, and fingers locked. She held my hand and tugged herself up, pulling my hand. She sat up and turned towards my direction, with legs coming down the bed. When her feet touched the floor she left my hand and got up. Facing me still, she looked up into my eyes and pulled my mouth down on to her lips and kissed me on the lips. No tongue but the kiss kept going one after the other.
Eventually, she stepped aside and moved towards the bathroom. As soon as she touched the handle to go in even with Dad still inside, he stepped out. His trousers back on, a different one, because his old ones were lying beside the bed on the floor.
She went into the bathroom, and I turned towards the kitchenette. Dad went to the bed and stayed there. I didn't need a coffee, but I still started making one in order to stay in the kitchenette. When Mom had come out I was sitting on the sofa with my coffee. She did not join Dad but came and sat next to me on the sofa, she flipped through a magazine we all had read ten times over the last ten days. After a bit, she rose and went to make dinner.
Come to think of it, no new boundary had been breached. It was just that, this time around, I was an audience in their daylight fuck instead of one in the dark. I could have walked out the door if I so chose, but I did not. Apart from that, no new boundary was breached.
I was extra quiet during supper that evening. Mom and Dad were going on as if this was a regular day for them. I knew it was not, I was in a surreal place, which up until this day these things were unthinkable for me. I figured Dad had rationalized this as a give-in to Mom's adventurous side when it began. Mom on her hand was on a slide – or so it seemed and was taking him with her.
Little did I know what was working in her mind.
When we retreated for our evening movie, Mom wanted to pick one. She sat on her corner and I between her and Dad on the carpet in front. She took a long time picking one, and we sat through a romantic tragedy, a classic black-and-white film. Surprisingly I liked it enough to sit through it all, and by the end of it, Mom was emotional.
Dad and Mom spent some time on the sofa after the movie, for no reason that I could figure. Before getting ready for bed, Mom went into the bathroom and spent a while there. Dad shut his iPad and came to the bed after she came back from the bathroom.
When we retreated to bed, it was clear Mom was not her usual perky self that she has been for a couple of days, possibly because of the movie. She walked to the foot of the bed, and she lifted her right hand to take the left shoulder thin strap of her dress and pulled it off to her arm. She did the same with her other hand to her other strap.
The yellow dress with elastic sewn into the fabric clung to her from above her breasts and then on her waist and hips. She held the dress from her waist and pulled it down from off her hips. Her breasts bounced from the top hem of her smock dress and freed themselves like they were under captivity from kidnappers. Her dress kept going down until it stretched on the hips. Then she put fingers into the elastic and started the second round of the journey downwards. Bending barely a little, her hands only accompanied the dress until her hips, and after that gravity took hold of the dress until the floor. This was happening in real-time, and in my mind, it was in slow motion.
Before she could just climb the bed, it became clear that she not a shred of clothing on her. Dad and I had our eyes set on her every move. Dad was mindful of her somber mood and knew better to not say anything to bother her anymore. When the light switch went off, she was in Dad's arms snuggled up close. Surely Dad did not try to make a move on her, but also he was spent from his session with her barely hours earlier. There was no way he could bring himself to get it on in such a short time. After last night this would be third in less than twenty-four hours, and that hasn't happened in quite a while.
Guessing tonight Mom was not up for our cuddle, I tried sleeping. After a couple of hours of my shuffling around on my side, Mom turned towards me. Dad had slept by then. She opened her arm, and I knew where I wanted to go.
We started our cuddle with her hands around me and my left around her; thighs interlocked, my lips planted on her neck, and then we glued ourselves together. Her right hand went up to my neck, and then my head, her left held my back into her. My left hand was on her bare back and gliding on her smooth skin. My lips found her neck and gave faint kisses. Her breasts mashed into my chest and nipples lightly poking into me. I knew she was not in a play mood, I just held her still. When I slept, I had this feeling of home, of bliss, and of heaven. Her skin against mine was like silk, slightly cool but very smooth. Even the top of my thigh that had grounded into her pussy found silky smoothness of skin on it.
In the morning, she got up before me, didn't move just so I won't wake up. She just continued to rub my head. When I did get up, I looked up and said, "good morning mom," whispering.
She said, "good morning, sweetheart"
I kissed her neck a few times, moved up and started kissing her cheeks and belatedly reached her lips. She had loosened her grip on me. I kissed her lips a few times and remembered to not repulse her from my dragon-breath. I started downwards journey kissing her chin, her neck, her chest, and then her breast. On reaching her nipples, I took the right one in my mouth and went to work. It was as if I was trying to make up for the lost time. My morning hard-on was grinding into her from within my boxers. I sucked her hard and had her moaning in no time. My shoving from below only improved her symphony. If Dad weren't awake already, then this would do the work.

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