Summer Retreat

Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it, Mica xx, Yorkshire England.

We were at the company summer retreat on the Island of Santa Antão in the Atlantic Verde Islands. This group of islands was nicely off the beaten path and some of them were uninhabited, and some highly tourist focussed. The company that my late husband founded had a plantation house style compound where the company would hold training retreats, and as a senior shareholder and CEO I had access to the compound as a simple retreat whenever I wanted.

I loved it there, when my husband Paul was alive we would go there several times a year, we would go out on our motor yacht, sunbathe as the boat swayed and sometimes we would fish. If we were out on our own, we would sometimes make the boat rock by ourselves, making love on the deck under the warm Atlantic sun. There were sharks around so we didn’t really do much in the way of swimming unless we were close to shore, and inside the shark nets. We had mused about retiring there in years to come.

My son Harry and I had flown from Manchester with Air Portugal, the company had an account with them, so it was the easiest way to book, we always flew business class, deeming First Class an extravagance. A downside was that we had to change planes in Lisbon, but we had access to the Business Class lounge, and we would eat, have a shower, and just chill whilst we waited. The only alternative was charter flights and they really didn’t cater for our needs, seats too small, luggage allowance tiny, no express path through check in or passport control. No, that was not for me. I liked a big comfortable seat without someone constantly swinging from my seat or bashing the back of my seat, I liked crockery and silverware when my meals were delivered and I liked the almost personal service that you get in Business Class.

On arrival a company Limo collected us and took us to our plantation house where Maria, the house manager, greeted us and told us our rooms were ready. I asked if we could have martinis on the deck in twenty minutes.

We went to our rooms agreeing to meet in fifteen minutes on the deck. It was a wonderful place, Harry and I had adjoining rooms, a wonderfully large double bed in each, not that size was a requirement any more, I am now on my own, Paul having succumbed in the pandemic four years ago. I had since had the occasional tryst, but I was in no need for anything permanent, and there was always the fear that they wanted me for my money as much as my fanny.

Harry had a girlfriend back home, but I hadn’t invited her, and Harry hadn’t asked. She was recent in his life, plenty of time yet for her to come along. She looked a little like me I supposed, perhaps a dress size smaller, mid length blond hair, often in a pony, blue eyes, a similar D bust and about five foot three. I wonder if Harry had a type? His girlfriends didn’t tend to last more than a few months, I think he grew tired of them.

I was in a bikini with a sarong around my waist, Harry was wearing baggies and raybans. We took our seats in the Teak Steamer Chairs on the decking, the sun still high and we were glad that the overhang of the plantation house shaded us.

“Mrs Harriet, Mr Harry,” Maria greeted us, “I hope that your flight was good. Jorge will be here momentarily with your drinks and some canapés.”

“Thank you Maria, the flights were fine, long as they always are as we stop over in Lisbon, but they were comfortable and we were very well looked after.” Maria smiled and left us and then but a moment had passed and Jorge was delivering our drinks and a wonderful selection of small bites, marzipans, vol au vents and blinis. Our martinis were, as always, excellent and icy cold. Just what we needed.

“Shall we take the yacht out tomorrow mum?”

“Harry, not tomorrow, but perhaps on Wednesday. I would like to just embrace the sun for a day or so, and then yes, we can take the yacht our for a few hours, and yes, you can be helm.”

The yacht wasn’t really my thing these days, it had really been Paul’s. He loved it and we would go out for a few hours most days we were here, and apart from the personal moments we had together, it wasn’t as huge an attraction as far as I was concerned. I loved it with Paul, but Paul was gone, and it was a memory jogger that I didn’t need.

We sat and enjoyed the warmth and the canapés which were delicious. Harry was on his iPad browsing who knows what, I just sat there in my bikini and my mind in neutral. I shouldn’t have noticed, I really shouldn’t have looked, but it was pretty obvious that Harry was aroused, well that is something he will have to deal with, nothing to do with me. His problem, not mine. I wondered if his dick looked anything like Paul’s.

My mind wandered back to memories of Paul and I, our times naked on the Yacht, where we would brush lips and gently touch each other, me slowly pulling his foreskin down his dick and letting it spring back, he running his fingers through kovancılar escort my increasingly wet valley. As I remembered those moments, I could feel my moisture levels rising as I remembered how Paul used to tease me with his tongue, running between my lips but not touching my clitoris, oh how I ached for that touch, my memories were so powerful, I ached for that touch right now.

“I am going for a dip,” I said to Harry, and I got up and went to the pool and dived in, perhaps five metres underwater before I surfaced. I needed that, that coolness between my legs, my memories were beginning to get away with me, and I was not sure how Harry would react if his mother groaned out an orgasm in the chair facing him.

Feeling calmer I did a few lengths of the pool and eventually I got back to being me. I climbed out of the pool and stood legs and arms apart in the sun, feeling its drying and warming power on my skin. I wandered back to the deck, Harry wasn’t there, I assumed he had gone in for a drink, or perhaps the loo. I glanced down at his iPad and saw a close up image of my bikini crotch, my ‘shape’ quite discernible.

I didn’t do anything, and I certainly wasn’t going to say anything, but it did get me wondering. Did boys get fixated on their mums? I knew that Harry’s girlfriends tended to look a lot like me, were they simply substitutes for me?

Harry looked a lot like Paul, that is true, but I can say that I have never had a sexual fantasy involving Harry. All my erotic dreams centred around Paul and my memories of him. If Harry harboured sexual fantasies of me then I was afraid that they would remain fantasies and not be realised.

Harry came out and I assumed he had been to the loo. He sat back down in the steamer chair and looked up at me.

“Alright mum?”

“Yes baby, thank you.”

Jorge came out with refreshed martinis and I sat gently steaming as my body dried in the afternoon heat. I do not understand why I looked, but Harry’s earlier condition seemed to have gone. Perhaps that is why he was inside.

Dinner was spicy chicken and rice washed down with a Portuguese white wine. Harry and I played cribbage for a while, his quick mind catching some of my missed scores which helped him beat me easily with more than a few shouts of ‘muggins’ from him.

As the stars began to twinkle in the clear sky we retired to bed, it had been a long day and there was little point in staying out bed for the sake of it. So what if it was only eight thirty.

In my room Maria had unpacked my suitcase and everything was where it should be, I had a moment of discomfort when I realised that she would have unpacked BOB, and there he was, my Battery Operated Boyfriend, in my bedside table. ‘Hell, who cares’, I decided, after all many women had vibes these days, they even sold them in the supermarkets.

I took my bikini off and placed it on my dressing table, I would probably wear it tomorrow. My sarong I hung over the back of my chair. I went into the ensuite and turned the shower on. I was feeling a little tingly, was that the realisation that my son was watching me, or the memories of my husband? I didn’t know. I smothered myself in shower gel, spread and washed with my hands, and then showered it all off, the shower spray caught my clitoris giving me a small moment, finished I stepped out and towelled myself dry, and then went and lay on the bed.

Bob came out of the drawer and turned him to a pulse vibration mode and I ran him between the lips of my sex, stopping just before my clit, holding it there, letting the vibrations slowly work upwards. I could feel my electrics building and I knew that my fanny was fluttering, just waiting, ‘no waiting tonight lady’ I said as I edged bob up to just touching my clit.

Oh my Lord. My pressures built and blew, my orgasm erupted, electrics flowed through my body and by back planked. Only a slight touch and I had gone. It must be the memories that this place brings I decided. I mean I orgasm at home, but nothing as powerful as that. Five minutes later and I was still gulping.

Bob went back to its bedside home and I lay on top of the bed with that slight feeling of anticlimax that comes with the aftermath of a big orgasm. I glanced across at the adjoining room door, and wondered if Harry had got his jollies, or even if he had spied on me through the keyhole. Good luck to him if he had, he would have seen little from that distance.

I slipped into a trance of a sleep, my dreams dominated by Paul, but Harry appeared in a few places, a few places he shouldn’t. My subconscious was playing games with me. I did not want to shag my son. When I awoke I washed, toileted, and put my bikini and sarong back on and went down to breakfast.

Maria does wonderful poached eggs, and breakfast was ham and poached eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice and a yoghurt. Harry wandered down about five minutes after me, looking as if he not slept all night. I kozlu escort gave him a questioning look.

“I was too hot to sleep mum, way too hot.”

“What were you wearing Harry?”

“My cotton shorts.”

“Try going without until you acclimatise, I usually don’t wear anything the first few nights.”

“Okay mum, I’ll try that. I think after breakfast, I will have a short dip in the pool to cool down and then lay on a sun lounger.”

I burst the yolks on my eggs and allowed them to smother my ham, such a delicious combination, drank my juice and ate my yoghurt.

“Could I have coffee by the pool please Maria?” I asked.

“Certainly Mrs Harriet,” she answered.

I went out and arranged my sun lounger the way I wanted and lay down on my front, arms and legs a little apart, my head to one side, closed my eyes and ran through a few company matters, why not, it was a company retreat. We specialised in Brownfield redevelopments and I had a few ideas that I wanted to run past the team, but I wanted them straight in my head first.

I heard Harry messing with his chair and then the splash as he entered the pool. Shortly after I heard him pad back to the sun lounger and the drips as they fell from him and landed on the deck.

Maria tapped my shoulder to let me know the coffee had arrived, but to be fair, I had the aroma well before she tapped. I swung my legs around and sat up. The coffee, in its French press, was just on a small side table. I stood and walked over to pour myself a small black coffee. I always had black French press at breakfast time, and espresso with milk later in the day. Yes, I know both the French and the Italians would be horrified.

I sat back down on the sun lounger and sipped at the coffee. Harry was next to me, laying on his side, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. I realised that I was sat directly opposite his face and that I had sat with my legs apart. I crossed my legs, mindful of what seemed to be his predilection with my groin as evidenced by his iPad photo.

As I sipped my coffee I unconsciously uncrossed my legs, and as I realised what I had done, I pressed my knees together. The coffee was, as usual, utterly delicious, strong but in no way bitter and a slight crema, something I never manage with a French press. Hats off to Maria.

I finished my coffee and lay back on the sun lounger, my head on a small pillow. If he wanted to look now, all Harry would see is the rise of my breasts in my bikini top, and the mound of my mons in the bikini bottoms. Well, he’s young, let his imagination go to work. By the look of his baggies, his imagination was indeed working.

Back to work musing as I lay there taking in the sun. I decided, after a while, that I had baked enough, and got up to hit the pool. I was so hot that the water felt icy when I plunged in. It wasn’t of course, but it certainly caught the attention of my nipples and they stood up like bullets. I did a few lengths and then went back to the sun lounger, letting the sun dry my body, small drips landing on the floor beneath me.

Harry now had the addition of nipples to exercise his imagination. I didn’t expect that his imagination would need a lot of stimulation if I was honest with myself. This is the kind of thing his dad should be here to talk to him about, not his widowed mum. For the first time in a long time, I felt angry at Paul’s death. I was just so annoyed. I was also annoyed at the images of Harry sneaking into my erotic dreams.

Lunch was a salad of sweet peppers, fennel and sweet onion, with a wonderful vinaigrette dressing and some crusty bread and a dipping olive oil. It was served with ice cold water, just a perfect lunch on a hot day. The afternoon was more lounging and pooling, I determined that tomorrow I would bring a pad and pencil to the deck, that way I could note down any ideas that I had, company wise, and then review them before submitting to the team.

Harry lolled around on the sun lounger, swam and floated in the pool and generally messed around on his iPad. Was he looking at inappropriate pictures of me, taking more pictures, surfing porn? Who knew, not I and to be honest, I didn’t really care what he did in his fantasy world.

Dinner was meatballs in a ragu sauce with garlic bread as a side. Another bottle of wonderful Portuguese wine, this time a light red, accompanied the meal. Another evening of Harry trouncing me at cribbage, perhaps we ought to play whist, but I would probably be just as rubbish at that.

I asked Jorge to get the yacht ready for the morning, check the fuel and so on and stock it with cold drinks and snacks.

“We’ll go out on the yacht tomorrow Harry,” I said as we were going up to retire, “are you sure that you can remember the controls?”

“Brilliant mum, and yes, I know how to pilot it.”

“Well, goodnight then,” I said and pecked his check, he pulled me in for a hug. Arousal once more in evidence.

“Thanks kozluk escort mum, good night” he said as he let go of me and headed to his room.

In my room I stripped, showered, carefully this time, I didn’t want any ‘accidents’ with the shower spray, patted myself dry and lay on top of the bed. I was acclimatising enough that I would probably sleep under the covers by tomorrow, for tonight, on top and naked. I blew a kiss towards the party door, just in case Harry was perving through the keyhole, and then it was morning.

Ham and poached eggs again, delightful and should be light for a seafaring stomach. As I sipped my juice I wondered if Harry was purposefully showing me his arousal, was he trying to get me to respond? Almost the only more obvious thing he could do was to be naked, and I wasn’t sure how Maria would take to that, she’d probably beat it with sprigs of Rosemary.

I had images of a naked Harry running around the compound being chased by an angry Maria with sheaves of Rosemary, I laughed out loud.

“What’s funny mum?” Harry asked as he joined me for breakfast.

“Oh nothing baby, just a memory of your dad and me on the yacht.”

Harry had cornflakes for breakfast and juice. Jorge came and told us the Yacht was all ready and he would be at the front with the car to take us down when we were ready ourselves.

I think it took us around twenty minutes to finish breakfast and take everything we needed, and then Jorge took us down to the marina. Everything stowed and engines running, all the checks done, radio working, lights working, Harry declared us ready. Jorge helped with the mooring ropes and we were off.

Harry’s plan was to motor to Santa Luziã and weigh anchor just off the coast. The Island is uninhabited and it would be a perfect place to just float and sunbathe.

“It’ll take us about an hour to get there mum, are you going to sunbathe on the way?”

“I might Harry, let’s see how smooth the water is once we get out of the shelter of the island.”

“Fair enough, can you get me a bottle of water mum please?”

I went down to the galley and opened the fridge, stocked with cold drinks, coke, pop, water and milk. I grabbed him a water and took a diet coke for myself. I went back up to the helm and handed Harry his water. I then sat in the seats aft and let the wind of our motion fly through my hair. The sea was smooth and there wasn’t a boat in sight, the island was receding behind us, and soon we would be out of sight of land and nearing our destination.

Harry was looking fully in control, perhaps I should buy him a captain’s hat? I think I want him to take lessons and do the exams before I let him do more than a little hop between islands. I could let him have free range on the yacht when he is qualified.

It seemed no time and Santa Luziã appeared and quickly filled our horizon. Harry bought us a few metres from a sandy shore and dropped the anchor. In the lee of the island the sea was almost flat, the waves on the shore little more than ripples.

“All over tan time I think,” Harry said.

‘Oh’ I thought. I grabbed some towels to lay on and spread them on the top of the cabin, it was flat enough and we could lay there. The yacht would just slowly move around the anchor. Harry stripped and lay on his stomach on one of the towels. ‘Nice bum’ I thought.

So, what to do? Did I remain modest and leave my bikini on, or, did I go with the flow and strip too?

“Sod it,” I said quietly and took my bikini off and lay on the other towel, trying not to think of how naked I was next to my son, who was also naked. I lay on my back, arms at my side, legs slightly apart and closed my eyes. The motion of the boat was gently, almost soporific and I found myself dozing remembering times with Paul.

We would lie here, just as Harry and I are now, the gentle sea breeze cooling, eventually getting closer, touching each other, caressing, my hand playing with his dick and balls, his hand between my legs, my arousal allowing Paul free movement. I had a sudden thought, triggered from back then.

“Harry, suncream, we need to do sun cream, I’ll do your back and then you do mine.” In all the rush, I had forgotten to do my suncream, and I knew Harry would not have done his. I got up and went to my bag in the Bridge and got the all day sun screen.

“It might be cool Harry, brace yourself.” I sprayed Harry’s back, and he did flinch, and then I slowly rubbed it in, my two hands covering his whole back and bottom and in-between his cheeks.

“Right, you’re done, do me please.” I sat up and put my back to him. I could tell he knelt behind me and started spraying and then rubbing. It took me back to the memory that reminded me. Paul spraying lotion on my back and then rubbing it in, Harry’s movements took me right back and I was lost in the memories and then I came quickly back to the present, Harry’s hands were on my boobs, massaging them, tweaking my nipples, and I guessed that was his dick pressing at my back.

The wonderful memory was been exorcised with a reality of today. I felt like a woman again as my breasts were being handled, small electrics built up as Harry gently tweaked and pulled my nipples. We were here, isolated, miles from any other people and my son was turning me on.