Incest in Sicily

Incest in Sicily

It was a scorching hot afternoon, Donna and Milam and her children, and little bill had taken an excursion out of Catania to the coast line and a small alcove known by the locals as the Cyclops. They had found a nicely shaded spot, had a picnic lunch and after the children played furiously for half an hour they were tired out from the heat and sleepy from a full meal and one by one lay down and took their customary nap. Donna was gathering up a towel and maneuvering her flip flops on her feet, when her son was suddenly by her side tugging at the towel and begging to come along. He had no shoes, so Donna picked him up with a giant grunt and they set off to the shoreline a few dozen yards away.

Donna broke out in a thick sweat from the exertion, but after a few paces she didn"t notice it in the least, because she felt her son"s growing erection against her chest wall, cradling him in her arms as she was. The boy seemed hardly to notice himself, and quite casually squirmed in her hands and reached a small hand into his bathing suit and straightened himself out. A few paces farther along she paused to catch her breath in the shade of a giant olive tree. The boy"s erection had grown steadily and was once again caught in the swim suit. Before he could fix it, though, Donna had got down on her haunches, placed the boy on one knee and gently reached in to pull his penis free. Her hand dallied there momentarily, until the boy noticed and giggled. She started to pull the hand away, but he held it fast with his two small hands and rocked on her knee like he was riding a horse. Donna urged him to silence, but appeased him nevertheless with a few hard squeezes and a little tickling of his testicles. Then she gathered him up in her arms, and they were on their way again.

Donna was busy navigating the rocking path in her flip flops, when a few paces later she realized her son had pulled his swim suit down to expose his erection, locking the fabric behind his balls which were jutting out famously. Thus as he jostled up and down in his mother"s arms, his prick was being masturbated by the friction against her swim suit. She smiled, and made a special point to take long awkward steps thereby causing the greatest displacement of the boy up and down in her arms. He was enjoying himself, and now she was too. They hardly noticed the locals passing them by, mostly fishermen going the opposite direction as they left the shore for the day, retreating swiftly to the cool comfort of their homes in a nearby hillside village, for lunch and a siesta. Well, Donna didn"t notice them, but these proud latin men certainly noticed her.

Donna was wearing a thin almost transparent tan colored bathing suit. Her skin was tanned almost as dark as the suit, so that from a distance it looked like she was wearing absolutely nothing at all. This erotic effect was accentuated greatly by her prolific sweating, which glued the thin fabric tightly to her ample - dare say giant - breasts. Then, as she jostled the boy in her arms, the breasts did too, more so. All together. the poor illiterate fishermen must have thought her a vision from heaven. More than a few stumbled, their gaze so fixedly focused upon the lush figure of Donna, long dark hair, exquisitely shaped even longer legs that kept right on going up to her pelvis and beyond. They whistled and cooed and eyeballed her large breasts and the jutting nipples. She got a couple of slaps on the butt and one brave young man grabbed her pubic mound with the fist of a hand, from behind. She kneed him in the groin playfully, blew a kiss at him, then kept right along on the path hardly missing a step.

Donna was herself starting to feel the heat of arousal. The unabashed attention of the locals, some of whom were attractive - all of whom were heavily muscled and verily reeked of lust for her - and the masturbating boy child with the man sized prick in her arms caught her coming and going.

They finally reached a small spot of sand in a fairly secluded spot. Donna tossed the towels down, unfastened her thongs; then hesitated, wanting to put the boy down but wondering how to cover him up before doing so. Her problem was solved when she saw that the boy now had a firm grasp upon both straps of her swim suit, so that if she were to put him down he would in the process pull her swim suit right down over her shoulders. So, child in arms, she paced right down to the water"s edge and into the light surf. It wasn"t until the water was up to her knees that Donna realized the boy had grabbed her suit on purpose, as now he was giggling as he peeled the suit away from her skin and peeked beneath it to the burgeoning breast. She slapped the hand, but didn"t take it away.

Looking around her, Donna headed toward the most lightly populated part of the beach and by the time the warm salty water was up to her waist they were mostly behind an outcropping of rock encrusted with layers of shells and barnacles. Pausing, she pushed the boy away from her, and as anticipated her swim suit came right down off her shoulders in the process. She pretended to be totally surprised, gave an embarrassed southern belle squeal then plunged into the water down to her neck to avoid the scandalous exposure. The boy giggled with glee, and then laughed so hard when Donna dunked him below the surface that he got a mouthful of water and came up coughing it all up.

While the boy was treading water, as his toes could barely touch the bottom, and clearing his lungs, Donna quickly reached over to him and slipped his swim suit right off. He screamed bloody murder, and again when Donna made much ado about balling the fabric up and tossing it far out into the water. The boy scurried after it, tight white buns cutting through the waves, as Donna watched him go like a fish in water. Just as he reached it, she was right beneath him and pulled him down by the ankle. They jostled in the water for a few minutes, then drifted to a nearby rock island to catch their breath.

The boy got out of the water first, sat on a rock after carefully inspecting for urchins and sharp objects. Donna followed a few seconds later, after she had sluffed out of her swim suit completely. As she was climbing out of the water, she paused briefly and whispered in his ear that nobody on shore would notice anyway, her swim suit was so light colored. Then she got right out, rolled over on her back and splayed her upper body out over the rock, the gently curving surface arching her back nicely and jutting her huge breasts out most provocatively. The surface was gently breaking on her pelvis, the thin bleached hair of her pubic mound just at water level. She explained that she had to bleach it so it was not obvious while wearing the tan suit. She blushed when the boy said it looked sexy, and reached over and played with the tight curls of blond pubic hair.

Donna then gathered him up in her arms and asked if he knew what the Pubic Wars were; he giggled and said, Mom it"s the Punic Wars. She acted dismayed, then snuggled her breasts into his face and asked if he was in the mood for a roman style battle. His hardening prick was already jutting between her legs, and in no time at all was nicely inserted into her hot moist cunt. Donna took the boy"s swim suit and covered his exposed butt, and they lay there talking lightly for the longest time.

Then Donna wrapped her arms around him and began to flex her pelvis, gently rocking his hard prick inside of her vulva. With each cycle, she warped her hips back allowing warm salt water to flow in between their two naked bodies; then gently flushing it out. It was an exquisite sensation, and they worked on coordinating their bodies to push the water this way or that. They giggled and laughed, and pushed their hands all over one another"s bodies right there in plain sight of several dozen beach comers. The son whispered that the little dots on the beach might not know she was naked, but they would certainly know that he was mounting her. That gave Donna moment to pause, then she swiped the boys dark suit away and replaced it with her own tan suit across his shiny little butt. Then she draped some hair over her front, covering her chest and the boys dark hair with her own. He said now they will think she looks fat; which got him a painful nibble on the ear and an excruciating muscle crunch on his prick.

Donna snaked them up a little bit higher on the rock, to where she was able to get her feet set on solid rocks a couple of feet beneath the water line. She had to spread her legs wide to do so, but when she was done - the boy had held onto her during all these maneuvers - she asked tenderly in his ear if he would please do something serious with that giant prick that was fishing inside of her. He pretended not to notice. She asked again, really seriously pleading with him this time. Now she was pouting, and grasping her breasts to squeeze them in the boy"s face like he always liked. Almost reaching her limit, Donna noticed a powerful ski boat cutting through the surf a few hundred yards away. She reached down with her hands to gather her swim suit around the both, as they could easily been seen by the passengers in the boat. The boy held her arms tight, and she could not move. The boat slowed, as the boy began fucking her; Donna was frantic to get out from under him, but weak from his wrenching penetrations. She held on for dear life, watching in a blush of arousal as the boat made a big turn in the surf, then came roaring right by them and gushing a giant wave on top of them. They passengers shouted and waved. Donna, with this maniacal little boy riding her beautiful body like a merry go round, smiled and waved back.

As the boat was quickly lost behind the shore line, the quiet rustle of gentle waves on the rock island lulled Donna"s conscious mind into willing obedience to the lust inside, that she knew had to be satisfied. Gently at first, pretending regret; she rocked her body a little out of phase to the boys - then when the grabbed her breasts and licked them and nibbled them, and massaged them deeply - well, all conscious control was ceded, and their coitus matured into a blissful episode of supreme desire.

The same boat was returning again, heading directly for them. Just then the boy ejaculated a giant mass of semen into her; and Donna convulsed instantly in an orgasm that left her weak from head to toe. Her legs weakened, knees buckled, and she slid backward off the surface of the rock, still mounted by her son; so that by the time to boat puttered by on a few yards away - half a dozen passengers gawking at them - only her head was above water, although as the waves crested then washed back, the upper half of her breasts were exposed, the salty salt water bubbling around her nipples most enchantingly. For a moment she thought the whole boatload of men were on the verge of jumping out, and then jumping her.

Then they accelerated right away, sending a big wave that capsized Donna and her son. They broke apart, momentarily, then she found her footing on the rock again, sitting in the shallow water; and beckoning the boy to come sit in her lap. He drifted over to her, crawled into her lap and sat there while she played with his prick jutting the head above the surface, just to hear him cry foul. He twisted aside in her lap, and fondled her breasts compassionately; and that seemed to satisfy her all right.

She dangled her legs over the edge playfully, like a small girl in a corner playground; twisted her hair with a free hand, tickled her son with the end of a braid; yanked his penis, then he splashed water into her face and on her chest, quickly leaning forward as if in apology to lick it off with his tongue. Donna chided him lightly, then grasped him to her chest with a strong arm around his back. Thus went the afternoon, until the sun was near the horizon, and they paddled back to shore - still naked - waiting until the last possible moment to suit up; but only then after a last passionate embrace in the shallows, hard prick in hot cunt; french kissing, and hardly able to break free of each other and the unspeakably glorious afternoon they had shared.

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