Her breasts are large, not huge or pendulous, but ample and pert, despite their size. They are full and round. Not only do they stand out from her chest, but also they have a large circumference and a wide diameter. The areolae are pinkly attractive, the nipples suckably prominent and the cleavage deeply inviting. They are near perfect tits for they are tits made for sex not suckling children. Delicious is the word that comes to mind to describe them. Men love her tits, they stare and ogle them; they lust after them as I do. They are my mother's breasts and I am in love with them.

Was he really coming onto me? Was he really trying it on? Was my mother's 'boy-friend' really having a go at me? It was surprising, but the way he was looking at me and sitting so close suggested he was.

"You really are a lovely looking girl Samantha."

"Sammi."

"What?"

"I prefer Sammi to Samantha, only my mum calls me that and then she calls me Samantharrrr!"

"Yes, yes sorry" the thirty fiveish good looking man replied. "Sorry Sammi."

"That's ok."

He and my mum had been having a fling for three or four months. By her standards since she and dad had parted, that was probably a record; I am sure she had her bits on the side for longer when she lived with dad.

Mark was ok. I quite liked him. He was friendly, kind, funny, didn't take himself too seriously and he had a very, very quick and bright mind. All the things I like in a man; oh yes and he also had a cute bum! He worked in the City in some form of derivatives trading and made a fortune. Even post the credit crunch and Lehmans he still got many hundred thousand pound bonuses on top of all manner of perks.

"Anyway" he smiled taking a sip of his Stolli and water.

"Anyway what?" I replied.

"As I was saying."

"Perhaps best not to go there Mark."

"What not go to your lovely blonde hair, perfect blue eyes, great legs and figure and lovely face" he smiled lounging back on the sun bed just inside the conservatory that covered part of our indoor/outdoor pool.

Dad had that put in a few years ago when he was making a fortune from his property development and building companies in Spain and Portugal. Along with nearly everything other than what was in mum's name, the house for instance, they had gone when the Spanish property bubble burst. Dad's companies were in administration as corporate bankruptcies are called and he was totally bust. Mum was ok though for she had squirelled loads away and had got dad to buy her masses of jewellery during the good times.

Their marriage, which I hadn't realised fully until I was in my late teens, had been what some term 'open,' couldn't stand the strain of financial difficulty so they parted. He went to live in an apartment he'd 'hidden' from his creditors and mum got the house Just outside London in Essex. Before the crash it had probably been worth around three million, but now it was anyone's guess for nothing was selling.

"Please Mark stop it."

"Hi" I heard mum call from the other side of the pool. We both waved and Mark called out. "Hello babe.

I watched as she undid her robe and dropped it on a table. She was going to have her morning swim. She usually had two a day, which on top of her regular gym visits, tennis and golf kept her trim and lovely. She had a fabulous figure, particularly considering she had borne two children. She also looked younger than her mid-forties and quite often she and I had been mistaken for sisters, well the 'players' said that in an effort to get into our knickers. I had often wondered what would have happened if we had accepted some of the invitations and the guys had found out we were mother and daughter. When I was being really honest with myself I admitted that I didn't just wonder, but sometimes also hoped.

As usual she was wearing a bikini. This one was white with the panties being almost a thong and the bra acutely cut so acutely and tightly across those delicious breasts that her areola were nearly flashed when she moved and her invitingly protruding nipples were permanently pushing against the thin material.

"Like mother like daughter" Mark said looking at me.

"Not figurewise" I replied. "I don't have her er, um."

"Tits" Mark offered,

"Exactly" I laughed. "Anyway I had better get ready."

"Where you off to Sammi."

"Just a meal and a club" I lied.

"Who you going with?"

"Just two girl friends?"

"Like some company?"

"Oh fuck off" I laughed.

Mark had been coming onto me quite a lot over the past month or so and certainly during the last week quite heavily as well. At first it had been fairly subtle, but now it was overt and obvious, not though when mum was around.

"What are you two laughing about?" my mother said as she rubbed her hair with a towel after getting out of the pool and walking over to us. She hadn't put her robe back on and the tiny white bikini hid hardly anything. The bra only just covered her areola and did nothing to hide the protuberances of her nipples that were clearly erect, presumably from the cold water although it may have been because she was so pleased to see Mark. As she towelled her hair her breasts jiggled wonderfully making me think and hope that one, or even better both, might leap out from the restraining cups. They didn't though.

"Just Sammi telling about her plans for the evening."

"So why's that funny?" She asked putting her foot on the lounger, leaning forward and drying her legs giving both Mark and me a wonderful view of her boobs.

"I just offered to join her and her two friends and she told me to fuck off."

"Ah well my daughter knows her own mind don't you Samantharrrrr?"

*

As I writhed on the bed underneath DD, the forty two year old lecturer I had seduced at uni I found myself thinking of Mark. As David fucked me from behind I imagined Mark doing it. As I sucked his cock I was thinking of Mark's dick and as my long term lover licked his way through the crease of my bottom and pushed the tip of his tongue right on my anus I was imagining Mark doing that.

Coming home on the Central line at just after twelve I had to ask myself why Mark kept coming into my mind.

Ok he was good looking, interesting, sexy and had a great sense of humour. He had a pert bum, probably a big and very active dick and was likely to be good in bed, after all mum didn't need to pick no hopers and she did have a few on the go at any time. But he was hers, not mine. He had a fucking liberty I thought trying to pull me while his lover, my mum swam up and down the pool just a few feet away

We were, I recognised, a fairly dysfunctional family.

Mum and dad had split up several times and now looked to be heading for divorce. Throughout their marriage they had 'lived their own lives' to a large extent. Dad travelled a lot and mum went out a lot. I realised that they probably had an open marriage. Mum was incredibly sexy and dad was very handsome. They looked great together, but even better apart. It certainly was not a marriage made in heaven.

Since they had broken up I had lived with mum. After leaving uni I had persuaded dad to send me to stage school, not to be an actor, but more a producer and director. After the 'disaster' of Bristol it took a lot to get him to agree, but eventually he had. I had hardly got myself settled in the stage school when the credit crunch hit and the Spanish and Portuguese property markets went tits up. I had to fend for myself and I became a photographic model. That sounds rather grand. What I actually did was take my clothes and let firstly camera clubs, but later individuals shoot me in various stages of undress including naked. That more than paid for my stage school, but neither mum or dad knew about it.

So now with dad in Spain fucking the senoritas, and I met a few when I visited, mum had open season to have her flings and boy did she. At first she had sort of hid them from me and her men friends didn't stay over. But Mark was the exception, he stayed over, he slept with her and from the noises I heard he clearly fucked her whenever he stayed.

Is that enough to explain how we are dysfunctional?

Paying the cabby who had brought me from Loughton station I saw the lights were on suggesting they were both up.

'Fuck' I thought 'I'll have to chat them.

They obviously hadn't expected me for they were both in dressing gowns. Mark's was dark blue silk one of dad's and mum's was a shorty red, silk job. It looked as though they were both naked under them making wonder if they had just had or were about to have sex.

"You're early" Mark said rather unnecessarily.

"Yeah we bombed out the clubs and just had a meal at Nobu."

"Lovely" mum offered.

"I dunno, eighty quid a head for raw fish and cold soup."

They both chuckled as though I had made a witty joke.

"I'm going to have a bath" mum advised us and walked out leaving me with Mark.

"Now if you had taken me with you the evening would still be going."

I'd had a few shots and was feeling a bit stroppy.

"Well it looks as though it's still going for you two?"

He smiled. "Well it could for you too, it doesn't have to end."

"Look Mark she's my mum you are going out with."

"So?"

"How could I cheat on her with you?"

"Would you like to?"

"That's not the point."

"Oh yes it is Sammi."

"What do you mean?"

"Simple, do you fancy me?" he muttered as I poured myself another vodka.

He came up behind me and put his hands on my hips.

"Don't" I said wiggling away from him.

"Why not Sam?"

"Look for fuck's sake you're my mum's boy-friend."

"True, but she knows about us."

"There isn't any us" I said turning and watching his eyes roam up and down my body. I was wearing a black, plastic dress that zipped all the way up the front and nearly knee-length boots. There were no tights or stockings so there was loads of leg on show. The hem of the skirt was slightly above half-way between my pussy and my knees.