'I haven't heard from you in a while, Steven. Is everything okay?' read my mother's message. Immediately I was reminded how long it had been since we last spoke and of how I must have been the world's shittiest son.
I'm that guy who isolates himself when depression and stress take their toll. I don't think about how long it takes to get back up to speed. All I care about is that nobody feels burdened with me. But when home becomes the problem, a trap for all my prevalent insecurities, I tend to hide at work instead.
My work ethic had already cost me my fiancée, or so I'd thought. She not only took with her the ring I put on her finger, she took it and pawned it so that she could "help" to pay off her secret loser boyfriend's debts.
How about that? Not only does Carol fall for a bigger piece of shit than I allegedly was, she leaves me for a complete dead loss; a social and emotional parasite who will no doubt leave her in utter ruin. Good luck, Carol. Enjoy that while it lasts.
So I bade good riddance and moved on the only way I knew how. I got sick to death of making myself miserable and ploughed through my work. When my mother got in touch, I was quick to see the light of day. I had a lot of making up to do...
2
I called her. 'Hi, mum, I'm sorry I haven't spoken in a while,' I said, wasting no time.
'Been keeping yourself busy no doubt; keeping your mind off the bitch?' she asked.
'I should have listened,' I began to apologise. She wouldn't have it, though.
'I never really disapproved,' mum asserted. 'You were so happy with her.'
'But you had your doubts...'
'But I hate being proven right, Steven,' she said apologetically. 'Forgive me?'
'There's nothing to forgive, mum,' I assured. 'It was my choice. And I never stopped loving you or wanting to speak to you. I just didn't want to appear as pathetic as I've felt lately. I don't like being seen miserable like I've been.'
'I have next week off. I could come and take up some of that newly acquired space of yours,' she slyly jested. My heart immediately lifted at the suggestion. 'We could keep each other company. I'm not really getting back into this singles game like I thought I might.'
'I'd love that,' I beamed. 'I could introduce you to a new cuisine I've been trying out. It's called "Sad Beans a la Tin Can".'
She gasped and struggled then to hold back. I could hear the faint hint of a giggle batting from behind her pursed lips. 'I'll cook as always. Want me to bring anything?' she asked.
'Just your beautiful self, mum,' I smiled, and notably for the first time in a while.
3
My mother's name is Sara. At forty two she's seventeen years older than me. My father didn't stick around. Rather than count on the system to raise me for her, she worked her ass off and went to night school to study accounting, and rocketed me through college while working her ass off even harder to provide for the both of us.
We've had a unique relationship through the years, growing up, and as an adult. Being that we went through a short line of potential suitors for husband and replacement father figure, I guess you could say I matured pretty quickly, and also grew fiercely protective and loyal to her. We're also pretty liberal-minded. She had her flings as well as her boyfriends, and so she was never in a position to deny me that either, but it was never a priority for either of us.
For the last few years Sara was engaged to an older guy, Oliver, who seemed to be the real deal. That was more or less the situation that gave me the push to get out onto my own two feet and to go make something of myself. He was the last man to lead her along. After that she grew tired of trying.
Sara is 5'5" with wispy blonde hair and glows with fair skin, and with few lines and faint creases other than laughter lines. Stress takes its toll, but in her case I think it just expresses character. She always somehow thrived off stress, unlike me. She has a lot of character, and something of a dual personality that's as motherly as it is carefree. I wish I was only as confident as she was in herself. It's meeting and trusting new people where she lacks confidence, and now I see why.
She also has a great figure with all the right curves and just enough cuddle where it counts. God knew I was counting on those cuddles. She wears these sleek silver-rimmed glasses that ever so slightly magnify her cool blue eyes. When she smiles I forget everything else around me.
Mum planned to drop into town on the Friday. That gave me enough time to talk my situation over with the boss so that I could grab a week off for some much needed de-stressing. Ron asked me what took so long, stating that he could see that I was struggling and that my work was suffering. He was quick to give me some time off. So mum wouldn't have to sit around bored waiting for me to get home every night.
I met her at the terminal at 4pm with a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, grabbed her luggage and drove her to the supermarket to grab some amenities, and then home where immediately we opened the white wine as she flew about the kitchen preparing some much needed home cooking, the way nobody else knew how.
There was nothing like my mother's cooking. After living off of tinned food and microwave dinners, the heavenly, hearty, aroma of the spaghetti and meatballs, bolognese sauce and garlic bread had my stomach grumbling anticipation as I tipped back the wine, watching mum work her magic. And the wine was getting to me quickly - empty stomach!
'It's nice to see a real woman in the kitchen again,' I said without thinking. She thought that over and laughed to herself.
'No contest,' she said immodestly and grinned as she sampled the sauce and then brought the spoon to my mouth. The rich tomato, garlic and herb flavours might have brought tears of joy to my eyes had I not already felt the alcohol's effects. I groaned my full approval and nodded.
'Good?'
'Amazing,' I declared gratefully. I was up in an instant, wrapping my arms around my mother and holding her close to me. 'I'm sorry,' I muttered discreetly into her shoulder, 'I can't help myself. I'm happy to see you again.'
'Okay,' she said with a slightly startled tone. Behind me one arm stuck out at an awkward angle as she tried to keep her wooden spoon at a safe distance. Light-heartedly she warned, 'let's not get saucy...'
I took a step back, awkwardly looked at her, and then when she moved my attention to the tomato sauce-covered spoon in her hand, I abandoned concern for laughter. Setting the pans to a lower simmer, she turned back to me, took my cheeks in her hands and kissed me full on the lips, soft, warm, and full of love. I fell right into it and reciprocated with a loving smooch, inhaling her and pulling her into me by her shoulders.
'I've missed that,' I told her.
'Me too,' she consoled. Then, 'why did you stop talking to me? I was afraid I'd done something wrong.'
'Stupid me, I guess,' I said, offering a half-wit expression. 'I think I was more afraid that I'd want to quit my job and run back home.'
'And I'd have been fine with that,' she remarked, tipping up her own glass and swallowing before kissing me on the cheek. 'I do miss having a reliable man around. Independence doesn't boil down to an empty home, you know. I always gave you your space.'
Shortly after, we sat down to eat.
4
When I snapped out my food coma an hour and a half later, I was reclined in my leather chair in front of the television and feeling great, aside from the slight hang over. Wine did that to me. It hit me so easily and then the comedown was just as quick. But just the ability to relax and not worry about work; to appreciate what I had made all the difference to my mood already.
The clock now read 8pm, which I barely made out through blurry eyes. Then the next thing I could make out was the rattle of pots and pans in the kitchen. She was cleaning up, no doubt having grown restless as I napped. Some things never changed, not that I was ungrateful.
'I'm so sorry, mum, I'd have done that,' I said, hurrying into the kitchen to pick up the dishcloth, but she was already done. Now she stood rolling her eyes at me as if to say, "sure... sure you would!"
'Want to feel useful?' she asked, 'open another bottle of wine and come snuggle with me on the couch.' With that she threw me a flirtatious wink and the corner of her mouth curled up.
'Honestly is that all I'm good for?' I exaggerated.
'No,' she replied, 'it's just all I think about!'
Then the thought struck me like a bolt of lightning. I hadn't felt this excited in so long and I knew she would love to see it. 'I've a better idea,' I smirked. 'Why don't we dress a bit more comfortable and then I have something to show you. Then we can relax and snuggle.'
'Wine, mystery, and surprises - how can a lady resist?' she asked.
I chased her up the stairs with the glasses and wine bottle in my hands, mum whooping like a teenager; probably not the safest stunt but I might as well have been running with scissors in asking Carol to marry me, as it turned out.
Seeing mum to the spare room, I disappeared into the master bedroom to change into a pair of clean sweatpants and a loungewear t-shirt before filling our wine glasses again. I saw the blinds were still open then and strolled across the room to close them. God knows some of my opposing neighbours have roaming eyes.
'Oh wow, a queen-sized bed,' mum purred approvingly.
I smirked and basked in her approval, my back still turned to her. 'I knew you'd like it,' I remarked. I'd only bought it recently, throwing out the bed I shared with Carol, wanting every intimate memory out of my life, especially while she was now rutting with some diseased little fuckboy.
'Well guess where I'm sleeping tonight.'
'You? Sleeping?' I quipped.
But I couldn't take my eyes off her from the moment I turned to face her. She waltzed around barefoot, from one side of the bed to the other in a purple satin negligee that showed enough cleavage and thigh to set my heart thumping.
Even without the cleavage I'd be in danger of a premature heart attack. Sara was blessed with a 30F bust, which swayed seductively beneath the tight, shiny fabric as she waltzed around the large bed. The look in her eyes, the acknowledgement my reaction, so immodestly spoke of mutual approval.
I just for the life of me could not tell if I was overdressed or underdressed. Not to worry, I thought. 'I figured it would beat squishing up together on the couch like two seals on a shrinking icecap,' I explained.
She climbed onto the bed, padding along on all fours - and somewhat teasingly - towards the middle of the bed before curling up on her side and demanding her wine. I handed her both glasses, almost straining to reach her, before climbing up close and leaning up on one elbow at her side to drink mine.
'I need this in my life,' she said longingly.
'No new men in your life, though?'
'No,' she said happily, sipping her wine and enjoying the firm comfort of the bed's firm new mattress. 'There's nobody worthwhile,' she explained briefly, and then, 'I take it you haven't been thinking about women and relationships lately.'
'Well it's not that I haven't been thinking,' I said loosely, 'but I'm not the rebounding type, and I just don't know if I could bring myself to trust anyone right now.'
I was quick to drain my glass and roll back to the bedside table to stand it there, then offered her more wine to which she shook her head contently. Then I returned to my mother's side. 'That makes me sad,' she said.
'Don't be sad for me,' I dismissed.
'I'm sad for both of us,' she said. I sidled in closer to hold her to me. The fresh, floral aroma of her skin and hair, the moisturiser she used and her natural scent was subtle but heady. It did wonderful things to me, as did the feeling of having her near to me again.
'Some fools don't know a good thing, even when it's right under their noses,' I mumbled.
'Mm-hmm,' she agreed, eyeing me intently from under my nose. 'You don't have that problem do you, sweetheart?'
'Of course not, mum. Do you?' I nudged her playfully, rolling her back suddenly and digging my tickling fingertips into her ribs. She laughed aloud and tried to combat my stealthy move by pulling me on top of her and suddenly I was very aware of how our bodies felt pressed together that way.
I kissed her then, in the way she had kissed me in the kitchen earlier, without reservation and without any real boundary, but not forcefully. There was a feeling of rejoice. Old feelings came closer yet to the surface.
I knew the look in her eyes all too well, the look of feelings having been gone too long but never forgotten. 'Stare too long and you may go cross-eyed,' she said inappropriately and began to laugh. Then purring she begged for another kiss and demanded with approval that I hold her closer. I did, moulding the contour of my body to hers, and we held each other and made small talk.
Time went by...
'I missed you,' she said with a glint in her darkened smouldering eyes. 'The things like this have been the hardest to live without, or to try to replace.'
Two more glasses of wine emptied and we were getting all sentimental. We were embraced in a gentle hug, bodies pressed together side by side and cheek to cheek. I didn't know how my hand caused the back of her negligee to rise up over the curve of her bottom, but I came to realise then that she was wearing underneath as my palm came to rest on her bare tailbone.
'I missed you too, and all of this,' I affirmed, now pleasantly more than just buzzed.
'What else do you miss?' she asked.
'I miss not caring so much,' I said heavily and sighed. She clutched tightly at my hands, her eyes baring her concern as they searched mine.
'Well then don't care so much,' she simply stated. Then prodded insistently, 'what else do you miss?'
I knew what she was getting at. I couldn't contain myself for how hard I tried. A grin crossed my lips and I rolled onto my back and studied the faint cracks in the ceiling. I was instantly aware, as well, of one flat hand now smoothing across my flat belly, making little circles back and forth in the direction of my lower abdomen. 'I miss that too...'
'And for a moment here I thought she'd turned you into a prude.' The irony of those words...
Though Carol had gone frigid over the last two years, where I had made the effort, she had been the one fucking somebody else behind my back. It made me question the validity of the principles I'd worked so hard to maintain.
Beneath the confines of my sweatpants I felt myself begin to stiffen and rise to the occasion. Imagine that your own mother could have such an effect, and that you never even had to hide it. I could try to hide it, but she knew what she did to me. It was the extension of who and what we were as family now, though we'd tried to stop it and to be ordinary, boring, mother and son.
In the end I guess we are what you always were; all of us. 'Shall we get into bed?' I asked.
'Is that all I'm good for?' she asked dreamily.
5
Sometime into the small hours I came around to find mum moving restlessly under the covers. It was hot under there. Thanks to the alcohol we'd fallen asleep spooning, pressed tightly together. I opened my eyes to nothing but the black silhouette of her face, the curve of her throat, and then as she moved back the duvet, the mound of her breast. Then she adjusted the straps of her negligee, but somewhat awkwardly.
'Are you okay?' I mumbled.
'I'm sorry, darling,' she whispered. 'Could you turn the bedside lamp on? I haven't the faintest idea what I'm doing...'
Sleepily I rolled over to the opposite side, grabbed the lamp's base and fumbled for the switch, squinting as the bulb snapped to life and all but blinded me. Next to the lamp, the clock read quarter past three. I turned back around then only to be faced with a visual that left my eyes poking out instead.
Mum had somehow twisted herself up in her negligee, the shoulder straps having fallen down, leaving her bare fair-skinned 30F breasts squeezed out over the neckline. 'I'm just going to take it off,' she said absently. 'It's hot enough under here already...'
And then she rolled further back the duvet to show her exposed thighs, hips, and the neatly trimmed triangle of dark blonde fur above her pussy. Slipping out of her negligee, I lay mesmerised by the stark reminder of just how desirable she always was.
'Is there anything I can get you?' I asked dutifully. Mum shook her head, dreamily gazing at me, then took my hand in hers. 'I'm just really hot right now,' she said and then, 'here, feel...'
She took my hand and placed it on her soft, smooth belly, smoothing my forearm with her free hand. 'You're hot too,' she noted. 'You must be boiling in those clothes.'
'Well I only sleep naked these days, really,' I pointed out,' so I am quite warm...'
I drifted, watching her lift my hand from her belly to her ribs, and then moving from one elbow to her shoulder. The back of my hand brushed the side of one ample breast on the way past, leaving my eyes to study the faint shine and glow of her milky skin there. Her nipples were still pink, though a darker shade maybe.
'It's nice to sleep naked. Good to rely on body heat,' she insisted, though I was already well in the know. 'Take your clothes off. I'm naked. You might as well be,' mum suggested. 'We can snuggle some more.'
I slipped off my t-shirt without hesitation, then raised my backside off the bed and clasped the waistband of my sweatpants. All the while she watched as a little more skin came into view. When my cock sprang out, semi-erect and growing, a yearning look overcame her. She pulled herself towards me then and wrapped herself around me; a thigh gliding smoothly over my hip, her arms snaking around my neck to pull my head to her breast.
I puckered my lips gently to kiss her sleep-heated flesh and heard her gasp. Still I grew and grew and her hips bucked to rub her pubic mound back against me in response. My mother - there was no other, and nobody in the world who would understand what we had.
'That's nice,' she breathed as I kissed her breast again, inhaled and exhaled heavily against her. 'Can I kiss you?' she asked, loosening her clasp on me.
'Of course you can, mum,' I said, lifting my head up until we were face to face and centimetres apart. We gazed, her hands stroking my cheek and neck, and then her lips parted to couple with mine, tempting me with an unspoken question. Our lips parted again, only for hers to return eagerly, to make her message clear. And still I grew against her.
'Can I kiss you back?' I asked. She nodded, her eyes remaining on mine, wide and all-aware, and when I moved into her, our mouths opened and our tongues began to dance and to writhe like snakes - languidly, seductively, sexually...
6
Time became a blur as we kissed and spoke sweetly of each other, rekindling our lost incestuous passion. Her sex bucked against mine as we writhed together, moistening me with her lustful love for me. And although it was inevitable that we were headed towards an act of love forbidden and reviled by most, still there was to be no doubt.
She stopped me in the throes of passion, the palm of my hand wet with her pussy juices, the air scented with her arousal, and while her hand too was sticky and wet around the shaft of my solid cock. 'I want it,' she said, jerking me firmly. 'Will you fuck me like you used to?'
'You want me in you?' I asked. She nodded, begged like a starved nympho.
'I've been dreaming of the way you used to fuck me, obsessed with the feel of you, the look of you,' she gushed hopelessly. 'Please, God, I want it and I want you!'
Lust took over, pure and relentless, like a force of nature. Like a shot I was halfway down the bed, forcing her thighs apart, where I dove like a duck to water. Her pussy juices, the lubrication of my mother's own sexual arousal, were delicious; both salty and sweet. I had to have her wetness all over my face. I had to have her see and feel me as I drove my hot tongue along the rut of her vulva and labia and paddled teasingly at her bulging clit.
Soon my chin was dripping with those juices, mingled with my own saliva, which I drove into her with deep licking strokes, before blissfully licking her out, and sucking her dry. She writhed, bucked, nervously twitched against my mouth as I kissed the very lips that separated to bear me twenty-five years ago, and all she could do was completely lose her shit, go giddily and delightfully mad, as I did that and then delicately sucked her off to intense climax.
'Let me do something,' she begged as I pinned her down by her plentiful hips. So I stood up, stroking my thick hard pole before her, and then shot to the mattress beside her, lying back.
'Ride me,' I demanded. 'Feel how slick and smooth it'll be now.' Id' had a lot of practice eating pussy since we used to have sex. Back then we were more or less practicing on each other, or slamming out quickies to get over the inevitable frustration. Now she said she wanted me to fuck her like I used to, but she was in for a surprise. I was going to fuck her like she'd never been fucked before.
Mum straddled my hips, her thick thighs wrapping me up, and coddling me. My size meant there was thankfully never any fumbling, and almost in one smooth motion, she positioned herself over the head of my cock, and then sunk down to the hilt with a satisfied gasp.
'Jesus Christ, you weren't kidding,' she said, wide-eyed and pleasantly overwhelmed. 'That feels so good...'
'Mother,' I said with a smirk, 'you are hotter and wetter than a summer thunderstorm right now.'
'Does son approve?' she winked, adjusting herself and beginning to slide against me. I held her hips, my hands soon roaming up to her soft breasts to squeeze, and gently pinched at her nipples. And between my mother and I, the mother of all scenic views, her slippery silken sex canal dripped incessantly, coating my long glistening shaft, as she swallowed me up and spat me out in glorious repetitive plunging movements.
And she rode me to bliss for endless minutes upon endless minutes, talking about how the imagination is usually supposed to romanticise and make the memory better than it was, but how fucking her own son was now too good to be true. So I rolled her over, still between her thighs, and voiced my opinion on how the feeling, and the sensations, was mutual.
We got lost in each other, deeply, hotly, wetly, and gratuitously, once like a couple made out of convenience, and now like seasoned lovers, slick with perspiration and ragged in breathing. And I'd never kissed my own mother as much - I don't even think I did my fiancée either - as I had by this point, as we rode her to more orgasms, and more.
'What's it going to take to make you cum?' she asked as we slowed down the pace. I rolled her to the side and slid back into her burning gash from behind, taking slower, shallower strokes, to tease her where she was most sensitive.
'I'm sorry, I'm getting carried away, trying to make up for lost time,' I realised.
'Don't be silly,' she chirped, catching her breath all the same, 'we have a whole week to catch up, and to fuck like rabbits...'
'And to cuddle-fuck,' I suggested.
'Mmmm,' that sounds delectable, she purred. 'And maybe some soft, slow, intimate sex by candlelight?'
'Making love?' I asked. 'Mum, you really have been fantasising a lot!'
'Mm-hmm,' she hummed agreeably. 'But tell me yours. What would it take?'
I thought what the hell. The more I bared my soul to her, the tighter she seemed to embrace me. I repositioned myself on top of her and we sweetly made out and took the time to recuperate, basking in each other's furnace-stoked body heat. 'Do you really want to know?' I asked.
'You think I can't handle it?' She did ask for it...
'I fantasised about making you pregnant,' I confessed with a belated smirk.
'You're joking,' she insisted. I wasn't. I shook my head slowly.
'I fantasised a lot about going too far, about not pulling out, but deliberately sliding all the way in and cumming right up against your cervix-
Mum's shocked, almost offended gasp, cut me off. So with that, and without breaking eye contact, I guided myself back into her, slowly invading her soaked, used pussy, and began to screw her slow and deep as I waited to tell her my fantasy in full. And as her motions began to match mine, her thighs gently clamped around me, and she laced her fingers together around the back of my neck.
'All I have to do right now is to think about that, about seeding you deep, taking you all the way, wondering how good it would feel to cum inside you, the way dad did...'
'And that would make you cum right now?' she asked out of disbelief. Again I nodded, bumping and grinding against her raw clit as my thick cock impaled her and stretched her out to be bred. 'You filthy bastard,' she cussed.
'But oh God, I'm so close,' I groaned and felt her thighs tighten around me. And there was a hint of a smile hidden behind her cool eyes. 'I could cum gallons of spunk into you right now...'
'You wouldn't fucking dare,' she moaned, then clamping her eyes closed, and biting her lip. And again her grip on me tightened. Was it just me or was this fantasy instantly about to make her cum too?
'Squirting endless shots of hot white spunk into your womb, filling you up,' I teased, or was I teasing? 'That must feel so good, mum...'
'You'd really want me to get pregnant with your baby?' she begged, still moaning, faster and louder. I didn't answer. But of course I wouldn't. If anything it was the next step into the taboo, and the fear that went with it. All the while I could imagine the beauty of that moment and its afterglow, of the true coming together of two genuinely loving people, and the heavenly anguish of falling hopelessly in love with the woman who finally carried my seed.
And so I rode her and I rode her, fucking her deep and with reckless abandon, sending the full length of my cock to the deepest recesses where I knew I wanted to stay, and to breed my own mother, to fulfil that fantasy.
The point of no return came, and I didn't stop, or pull out. And then the moment came where I should have pulled out and bathed her with my seed. But still I stayed, because suddenly I was gripped so tightly by more than just the orgasmic wave of panic and lustful release.
Towards the path of least resistance, deep down, I throbbed and twitched, pumped and spurted, and cried as I emptied my load; my entire hot, sticky load.
Deliberately my mother held me tight. She wouldn't let me go. And as I came and came again, she convulsed and quivered, drinking me dry...
Jesus Christ, I was so hard!
------X------
I wasn't new to pregnancy scares. I certainly wasn't new to the terror associated with them, and the long, hard downhill tumble from highest ecstasy to desperation. I wasn't really the anxious type. Panic silenced me, froze me rigid. And now I was frozen rigid, hard as a baseball bat inside my mother's cum-drenched pussy!
My heart hammered like a locomotive but I was going nowhere. Her thighs still gripping me, her hands stroked and patted my backside as we looked at each other in the morning gloom.
'Well, you got what you wanted,' she said finally, having caught her breath. Still her breasts pushed into me in slow, incredibly calm heaves. 'Jesus, you're like a rock inside me...'
'What were you thinking?' was all I could think to ask, incredulously. 'Do you realise what we've done?'
'Well,' she paused, and licked her lips. The way she looked at me, I couldn't believe that she actually seemed to be well aware and very conscious of her decision. 'If it happens then it happens. And I guess it happened.'
She squeezed me tightly with her vaginal muscles, just a little spasm, but it felt like a nudge, a slight budge to urge me on. And here I was devastated while my mother just seemed to accept that she had forced me to cum inside her. 'You know what you just did,' I repeated.
She let out a little sigh, parted her lips and subtly rolled her hips to coax the monster buried deep. And then, 'we'll deal with it later, I guess, but if I am pregnant then we might as well make the most of it, seeing as it clearly turns you on.'
I gasped.
'But it does, doesn't it,' the rabbit hole tempted the rabbit. 'Knowing what we just did, the danger and the sheer wrongness of it all turns you on. I always knew you had that in you.'
'Mum,' I started, only to be cut off.
'You might as well make sure we're certain,' she reasoned. 'Spurt your hot, sticky come into your mother's womb some more. Make it all the more worthwhile.'
And she kept rolling and rocking her hips under me. I could feel her hot, slippery sheath sliding up and down my shaft. I couldn't lie. For as great a headfuck as this was, and I was petrified, I was also the most turned on I'd ever been in my entire life, against all odds.
'How fucking turned on are you right now?' I asked. I then met her halfway, carefully plunging back inside her, lubricated mostly now by my own sticky hot load. 'You don't seem the slightest bit worried.'
'My own son just marked me as his own and filled my belly with his seed,' she declared huskily. 'I'm about to go over an edge I never even knew existed.' And the intensity in her eyes when she said that was truer than anything else so far. It left me ragged and breathless, straining harder against her cervix.
The kiss we shared then, it came with a passion and gave into a nature that I didn't fully understand; full of guilt, and yet shamelessness; so filthily erotic and yet not without that familial instinct. If anything I imagined that it was the kiss that Bonnie and Clyde last shared before they went down in a hail of bullets.
Our lips stuck together dryly, and desperately, in the moment. Our hot, stale tongues scraped and swirled against each other, a last-ditch mating ritual of the damned as we began to synchronise together again. The monster that I now knew I was took over as I struck home like a heat-seeking missile, gliding towards its target with terrifying precision.
My mother reflected that in me, forcing herself down onto me with every soggy, squelching plunge into the deluged recesses of her sinful flesh. We were still mother and son, but now we were also a heaving, hot mass of delicious corruption, copulating orgasmically to the soundtrack of harsh colliding breaths and wet, slapping skin on skin.
'I am going to fuck you until your womb explodes,' I growled.
'Yesssssss,' hissed the serpent that seduced first born man and woman, brother and sister no less.
'And you're going to give me a daughter in nine months time,' I improvised, losing my mind for the vile filth that was to spew forth from it. 'And then two decades later her loving, consenting, hungry adult pussy will be riding up and down the long length of the very thing fucking you to completion right now; squirting and gushing all over my balls, just like her mother/grandmother did!'
'For the love of Jesus's basketball sandals, holy fucking Christ,' Sara choked, her eyes suddenly wide and scared. 'Are you actually fucking serious?'
I don't know where that came from, nor the insane strength that came with it. Racking her legs over my forearms, I bent down and scooped her up, rolling back onto my knees. Hoisting my mother up against me, her slick, well-sweated body slipping up and down against mine, I carried her up and down on my upturned cock and watched as her eyes rolled back in their sockets.
The thick, rubbery nipples of her full, glistening breasts rubbed up against my chest, somehow causing every hair to stand up on my body that wasn't matted down with every hot rivulet of sweat. God, my own mother, such a perfect little fucktoy. I blasted her full of spunk there and then, crying at the sheer effort that it took not to collapse. I absolutely had to fuck her for as long as I could stay hard inside of her, but I was burning out.
I growled, seethed, hissed and hulked like a savage. Somehow she understood. As much as she seemed to love being fucked that way, helplessly and hopelessly manhandled as I seeded her deeper, Sara forced her weight onto me, found her footing against the mattress and wrestled me onto my back with sudden and shocking strength and agility.
'More,' I groaned, my cock red raw and straining. I was still oozing come. I was sticky and hot, and when she knelt down to suck me clean, I grimaced at the extreme sensitivity I was experiencing by that point. I almost wailed, 'you're killing me!'
'No,' a calm, motherly voice cooed. 'Calm down now, baby,' she soothed. And as the monster began to recede back into the murk of my consciousness, I lay there in her arms as she ever so gently and elegantly rode me the rest of the way. It was bliss, all cuddled up in her curves, her breasts mashed softly between us. The tired, well-fucked, fair-skinned blonde atop me soothed and cradled me as she coaxed and milked me to my shuddering final death.
'I don't know what just happened between us,' she said uncertainly as she kissed the sweat from my eyelids. Every breath we took, heaving together, was like a final extension of our primitive incestuous act. 'But maybe now's the time to tell you that I've had my tubes tied.'
I was too exhausted to respond. But good, and thank the heavens - or whoever else - for the woman they left me with. I breathed, and I breathed, and I breathed...
'You evil cow,' I muttered. I managed a short-breathed laugh, and then a little more. 'You scared the shit out of me.'
'And what was that about your future daughter?' she hinted, pointing out that she was no less innocent.
'I was making it up as I went along,' I offered bleakly. 'Sorry?'
'I didn't say to stop though, did I?' Sara kissed my soaked brow, my cheek, and then settled in to make out tender and slow. Oh my god, what were we? 'And we definitely didn't stop...'
'So you're not pregnant?' I asked, peering into her eyes through the blur of my fatigue. She shook her head.
'I wanted to surprise you,' she smiled mischievously. 'And I had it done just for you and me.'
'Well...'
'Surprised?' mum asked.
I chapped my dry lips together and took a deep breath. Just as I did, my spent, poor cock finally plopped out of her oozing, burning love canal and dropped dead against my inner thigh.
'You could say that!'
------X------
Where to begin after a night like last night's? When I came to, Saturday, I should have been tired and sore. In fact I should have been ruined, being that my mother and I had fucked each other into the morning like old lovers, which we were -- no doubt about that!
Aside from the dull headache which only lasted about as long as the fifty push-ups I cranked out on the bedroom floor, I was wide awake and full of energy, surprised at myself evermore when I realised it wasn't yet half-past ten.
I heard Sara in the bathroom with the distinct snap of the shower cord sounded and the rush of a torrential downpour lashing the bath's basin hard, and then more acutely her feet creaking along the floorboards before she stepped under the shower head. I needed no encouragement. I was there in a shot, naked and willing.
Already mum was wet from head to toe behind the folding glass screen, hot water running down her fair-skinned curves in waving rivulets, her hair like molten gold as it slithered down her back and curled at the ends. I was treated to the whole godly view as I stood there in the doorway, my cock straining and rising to the occasion like a hydraulic crane.
The sensation of my body next to hers, and then coupled with hers is heavenly. There's little to no modesty there, just intimacy and security. In the throes of passion, making sex together when the animal takes over, every inch of flesh is fair game.
To see her naked, standing up, assuming a pose such as this -- twirling under streams of water and steam as she lathers her hair with shampoo and strains it, letting the soapy lather wash her naked form like milk -- she is the living Greek statue of a goddess, no gym membership necessary.
There is muscle and there is flesh and there is artistic structure and it doesn't conform to the glossy pink celebrity ink standard that boys will masturbate to until the day they realise they're lusting over narcissistic obsession, systematic starvation and emotional instability.
My mother is still my mother, but she's more than that. She's a woman in every, but she's more than a woman too. She's the golden motherly standard, the golden standard for beauty, and for sexuality, and to drink in such a sight is akin to drugging oneself to overstimulation.
Beyond the taboo of wanting her, and that of having her -- many times and for many years -- I now face the challenge of balancing the roles of loving son and lusting motherfucker, not to forget myself or what I love about her.
Sara flashed me a grin, which spanned from ear to ear when she saw me standing at full-mast and grinning back. Next thing I was in the shower behind her, and she was leaning back against me, as my soapy hands romantically slipped and slip over every hot wet curve, from her heaving breasts to her hips, and the generous V leading to that place I loved so much, between her thighs.
'You just can't help yourself can you?' she purred, her own hands roaming my muscular arms. She gasped and her whole body spasmed as my fingers found what they were looking for; that stiff little panic button located under the hood of the cockpit.
'No, but I can help you,' I teased, flicking the sensitive skin of her neck with the tip of my tongue before planting a kiss there. Her head rolled back against my shoulder, and another louder gasp came as she trembled against the gentle circling of my fingers around her clit.
'Oh behave,' mother chuckled and then hissed pleasurably through her teeth. So I took my roaming hand back north over her belly, but she immediately grabbed it by the wrist and put it back to work. 'I didn't say stop.'
This time I ran two fingers between her fleshy labia and melted into that slippery, silk vestige of motherhood -- met with a single breathless moan. My cheek was rested against hers then, as I gloated over the ample valleys of her soaked and glistening breasts. Feeling her breath against my mouth, now that she had moved her head so that she was looking up at me with glazed, lusting eyes, I craned my neck to move my lips to hers.
'I just have to,' I murmured before engaging her willing mouth with mine, withdrawing only once to say, 'I just want to snog you all day.'
'You're pleased to see me,' she said, a hand gripping my straining cock, and then we were at it again, pleasuring each other as we kissed beneath the steaming torrent.
'As soon as I try to get myself clean you want to make me get dirty again,' Sara chuckled some time later, looking up at me with love and mirth, her arms tight around my chest, squashing her beautiful body against mine. I loved to feel her breasts slipping and sliding up against me that way. The only problem, always, was that there was no place for my hard-on to go. But then, a wicked thought...
'Well I'm going to be a good son and let you get clean, for now,' I said, and then whispered in her ear, 'but only because I'm going to be cruel and make you wait until later...'
'You're just awful,' mum said, offering a mock scowl, before blushing and grinning again as I stepped out of the bath tub.
'The absolute worst,' I agreed on a gleeful whim and blew her a kiss.
2
I took us out to lunch in town that afternoon, while the weather was nice. It had been a while since I hit the city centre on the busiest day of the week for shoppers. I'd grown disdainful of it all the longer I spent time in my own company. Nobody wants to be alone any town, any afternoon, and for any reason.
Couples and groups walk with the enthusiasm of a funeral procession. To want to just go do your own thing makes you the arsehole that's always in a rush, always bumping into people, and otherwise always swearing under your breath when you're stuck in human gridlock on even a relatively empty street.
Today was my opportunity to become the pain in the arse that was causing the gridlock, taking his sweet-ass time escorting his date around, and it was the most wicked fun I'd had in a long time with my clothes on. Don't get me wrong, I have respect and manners for the mutually minded, but if you're like the girl we encountered that day with the face like a raging bull, you were in for an experience out of whatever way you were used to having.
Mum liked to visit the curiosity shops and little department stores, now rare, and kept alive by the alternative crowd who sought their shady corners to socialise from. I didn't believe she'd ever been to a shop that sold nothing but drug paraphernalia like bongs and pipes.
Already the owner/sales assistant didn't seem too thrilled that we were treating his lot like a museum, even though the place was a bit heavy on the Che Guevara and Bob Marley. Nothing like a bit of golden age communism to mellow your mother!
We were headed for the door, which I took the lead and opened for mum, when this wide-bearing, hoodie-wearing girl with black lipstick and metal in her face started whining about the fact she didn't need a man to open the door for her, that she was perfectly able to do it for herself. I couldn't believe my ears.
I turned to mum with a queer grin, then turned back to the girl, assuring her, 'I didn't do it for you,' blocking her entry while Sara came out from behind me with a polite smile. The girl tried to push past. I didn't let her. Instead I made a point to close the door again, until the glass pane was inches from her offended little upturned nose, so that she could open her own damned door.
'You're welcome,' I said.
'Misogynist prick,' she said at my back as we walked away.
'When's the last time you think she had a prick?' mother asked.
'I don't know, but I don't think the drugs are working either,' I said and smirked as I looked back. We were honestly surprised we didn't see her at the Ann Summers store twenty minutes later, screaming at "The Elite Guard of the Royal Dong"...
I hadn't ever been to one of these places before. The crazy bitch (the ex) and I ordered online, never daring to expose our private lives to the world. Mum had been to the local one plenty times with her friend, Elaine, so she confided with her arm linked to mine as she dragged me through the sliding doors.
There was just something so comical about the place, with sex toys and lubricants stood on their little pedestals like someone had swapped the signs and products of a JD Sport but didn't bother changing the layout. Now I was the one feeling like I was in the museum, but for all my effort not to blush beet red and laugh consistently from start to finish, I couldn't help but feel sorry for the retail assistant here.
One, they were nearly all "college girl age", awkward looking girls between 18 and 21 selling sex to trendy couples -- all but for the supervisor, a woman dolled up to look more like a uniformly flight attendant, who seemed to take a more clinical approach to her job.
And then there was the security guard, this near seven foot tall black brick wall standing at the centre of this circular display wall, a hundred premium-priced dildos, vibrators and dongs all staring back at him like the crowd of a coliseum. Mum was taken aback by the sight, as was I, and because for how deadpan (if not apathetic) his expression, it was his duty to protect the prize dongs, as though they were the crown jewels of this prestigious and magical dick palace.
'Does he guard the dicks then?' mum asked and it was goodnight from me. Once I started laughing I couldn't stop. Meanwhile I was trying to pay attention to the selection of massage oils on display. I was having some seriously x-rated thoughts about what the weekend would have in store for us.
'He appears to be like a tactical version of the Beefeaters, mum!'
'O, like an elite dick guard?'
'I think we're going to get kicked out here,' I had to warn her as one uncomfortable looking wallflower started to magnetise towards us with some hesitance. Her nametag read, "Shauna".
'May I help you with anything,' Shauna asked plainly. Mum was quick on her heels.
'I was just wondering if that large black specimen over there is actually guarding a vault of dicks or if he's for sale too,' she said equally plainly. I snorted, forced it hard to the back of my throat. I heard the same from somewhere else in the store and had to turn away.
Embarrassed, Shauna was too heavily caked in skin foundation to be seen blushing, but mum quickly disarmed her. 'I was just joking, love. My son and I are wondering which of these massage oils you'd recommend...'
3
'May I say that I am really glad that I stepped in and convinced her that you were just in a pranking mood,' I said as we hurried away from the store, Sara in tow and barely keeping up in her mid-heel boots. 'Jesus Christ, you gave me a heart attack!'
'Can we drop by the H&M before we head back?' she asked, and I could hear the laughter in her tone, loud and clear. So we went there next and while my mother perused the skirts, I stood around hands in pockets, cheeks burning from that close shave with utter shame.
Mum liked her skirts long and flowy. I liked skirts for ease of access, but I wasn't about to mention that before we ended up having another unlikely conversation with another retail assistant. Mum found a skirt she really liked -- a white one with a dark red flower print -- and pulled me over to stand in front of the changing cubicle curtain.
There I stood, like the Elite Guard of the Royal Dong himself, arms crossed and staring into space as a few women started to line up in front of me. Just how weird was my day out on the town going to get?
'Could you give me a hand here, Steven?' she said from behind me. 'I'm having a bit of a silly moment...'
I don't know why my eyes then met with the woman standing face to face with me, but we both smiled politely at each other before I turned to oblige my mother, whatever was going on now. Discreetly I inched out of sight behind the curtain to find her stood in skimpy white lace panties and otherwise bare from the waist down.
My tightly packed cock stirred in my jeans, but little did I know that she was experiencing something the same. Before I could ask what was up, she grabbed my hand by the wrist and with the other free hand she yanked forth the crotch of her panties and stuffed my hand inside.
My mother was feverishly hot and leaking that slippery natural sex lubricant I was so well accustomed to. Immediately my fingers went to work, while her teeth went to work on my shoulder to stifle her gasps.
'There you go,' I said helpfully, anxious of what might be heard beyond that thin curtain, or what might not be heard enough before someone started to ask questions. Hopelessly I couldn't think of what else to say as my fingers worked her into a daze, her pussy throbbing and clinging to me tightly every time I stroked her stiff clit with my thumb.
'Thank you, darling,' she said unsteadily, and with sinful mischief plastered all over her tightening face, her mouth open but silently moaning. 'My fingers just don't seem able to work for me lately...'
'Well that's what your son is for,' I replied with a dutiful tone.
'I need more than your fingers, son,' she whispered close to my ear, her palm pressed flatly against my growing erection as it straightened downward against my inner thigh. When we stepped outside of the cubicle and back into the store, I noticed as did my bounding heart, that the woman waiting at the front of the queue had turned ashen white, eyes wide open as they evaluated the both of us. As we walked away I saw her put a hand to her mouth. She had heard everything. I'd never felt such a thrill and such a jolt of terror at the same time.
4
Town had been quite the experience with my mother. As we drove home, now happily just us with no prying ears or eyes, we could be more open about what neither of us could seem to stop thinking about. It was becoming evident that old animals had been re-awoken and that the following week was going to consist of not much else other than having sex -- shamelessly committing glorious, pornographic incest with each other!
But I couldn't just let this go, the dangers and the risks we were taking like never before. It was as if my mother was becoming a completely different person, and that she felt no shame in wanting to be sexual around her son in public.
'Do you have no fear at all?' I asked her. 'I notice you're being very casual about us now. I know times are changing, but the laws aren't.'
'Wasn't it a thrill though?' she countered me, and I couldn't deny it. She was right. I was stiff in my pants now and the head of my cock was throbbing and twitching, threatening to make me unload there and then. That look of mischief was still there too. I glanced over whenever possible, feeling the pressure build in my loins with the desire to bottom out and breed her.
'Seriously, you really have been doing a lot of thinking lately, haven't you?' I tested as I navigated the traffic. I couldn't put too much thought into it right now, playing chicken with the taxis that didn't seem to care which lane they were supposed to be in. So I decided to be the one to ask the questions for the meanwhile.
'Fantasising is more like it. I thought it'd get better once I'd had you again. Well... it is better, definitely better, but...'
'But now you can't stop?'
'You disapprove?' she tested. I shot her a smug frown, smiling all the while. Some call that Trump-face these days.
'I can't stop thinking about sex when I get started,' I admitted candidly.
'I never stop,' Sara hinted. I looked to her with a hopeless grin. She winked at me with that mischievous look. 'I'm on Literotica every day, morning and evening, reading every Mother and Son sex story ever written, and I think about us.'
'Tell me more,' I said, suddenly short of breath. The needle on the speedometer began to rise as the ride home took on greater urgency. I had to get us there.
'I got Elaine into it too!'
'You're fucking joking,' I yelled out of sheer disbelief. Elaine, who I'd mentioned earlier, was my mum's best friend. At 48 Elaine had only two adult daughters, so none of that business was happening under her roof, but I was truly taken by surprise to hear that the conservative divorcee could be coaxed into such an acquired kink.
'She is! She's not the prude you think she is, you know? We talk about our favourite stories and what turns us on about them,' mum assured with the argument to back it up. 'And do you know what my fantasy has been lately?'
My mouth ran dry as we ate up the miles, faster and faster, the road ahead of us crumbling into ruin where the council had abandoned it the last winter. The ride soon became bumpy, forcing me to slow down again.
'I want her to know about us!' she admitted after quite some silence.
5
How could I process such a huge thing? My mother who had pushed my fat baby body out of the canal that I was now more used to sliding my hard cock in and out of might have put me in my place and assured me that anything was possible when done right. She might have done a U-turn instead and assured me that it was not some whimsical desire to flirt with destruction.
But this was different in so many ways. This was a whole new level of daring and dangerous. This was not something you did for a cheap thrill. It was something you did in great faith and endless trust. It was something for which trust was near impossible to find.
When my mum and I started having sex, it was in great trust and faith that we were more than just okay with what we were doing. It was partly educational, and it was partly frustration and loneliness -- not just on her behalf. We were both consenting and it had built up through a matter of months after I'd turned 18. I was in college, I still wasn't courting with girls, and obviously I was still a virgin.
For the record, the first time it became physically sexual, mum was paying me a lot of attention after learning that I liked to fantasise about her, by way of finding a pair of her used panties under my pillow. Slow and cautious masturbation turned into mutual masturbation. That eventually led to her daring to give me a blowjob, which led to mutual oral.
It was only a matter of time before one day she picked me up from college and, on the drive home, asked me to go into the pharmacy and buy a pack of condoms. I cannot recollect in words how big a deal that moment was and how incredible, though brief, the first time we had sex was.
The act leading up to it, the act of stripping and getting intimate with her, with that in mind -- the act of rolling a condom onto my erect cock with the intent of sliding into her pussy and experiencing sex for the first time WITH MY OWN MOTHER...
It was a huge step in our relationship. Getting over it, learning to live with it, and then deciding that we wanted to carry on was a huge deal too. Learning to hide what we were doing as we became closer and more comfortable, more emotional and intimate, all of it was a huge deal.
I never would have imagined though that Sara, my mother, would want to endanger what we had by confessing not just her fantasies to anyone other than me, but also by letting someone in on our secret.
Which one of us was crazy, or the most crazy; her for thinking that it was perfectly safe to tell her friend and neighbour that she was enjoying a years' long on and off sexual relationship with her son; or me for thinking that nobody in the world was that trustworthy just because they liked to fantasise here and there?
Fantasy was one thing. Reality came with terms and conditions, and very real dangers.
6
'I just... I'm not sure you appreciate how quickly even the tightest friendships can end, mum,' I tried to make her see what scared me. 'Look at where I am, please. The things people love about you they always use against you the moment they decide they hate you!'
'Baby, please don't panic,' Sara said as she fixed herself a cup of tea at the kitchen counter. The sex itself was forgotten, for now, because panic had taken over. The mood was on ice, although she seemed perfectly calm and content. 'Like I said, it's just a fantasy. Do you even know how dirty her mind gets when she gets warmed up?'
'Do you?' I asked, my face contorting to humour her while I wrestled with my anxieties over the matter.
Sara raised her eyebrows suggestively and pouted, then blew a stray wisp of her fringe away from her face. 'I know her inside and out, you might say...'
'Huh?'
'You didn't know your dearest mother was going to bed with another woman in your absence,' she confessed further, 'because I was saving that story for the right time.'
'You and Elaine?' I needed to sit down. Instead I leaned against the kitchen table and swooned as my mother smiled adorably and nodded her affirmation. 'How?'
'Oh she was the one who got me reading erotica on that website I told you about,' Sara said matter-of-factly. 'Only Elaine's big deal was that she developed an addiction for nothing but lesbian love stories. It was a huge deal for her to confess to me, because she'd known nothing but the same boring husband until he left her for an equally boring woman. Then she knew nothing but fantasy and she didn't want another man. I told her to try the taboo stories. She was addicted to those soon enough...'
'But how?' I repeated myself a little louder, hinting at the last damn thing I'd asked her.
'Well you were gone, no men were stacking up to your standards...' That part inflated more than my ego. I think my expression at that point gave that away. 'And she got me curious with her love stories. I just told her that I wouldn't mind trying it out with a likeminded woman -- someone I enjoyed the company of -- and so we made love one afternoon and it was quite beautiful really.'
Her smile in its wistful reflection melted me and forged me to hardness all at once, coupled with those words. God, all she had to do was talk about making love and I'd take her there and make it a reality the moment she showed her willingness.
'We made a habit of it, you might say, whenever we had nothing on our calendars. It'd never be a public thing. We don't want the lifestyle. We just like to make love and to feel good together. It was only a few weeks ago that she came out and said that you'd be the luckiest son in the world to be able to make love to his mother.'
'But you didn't tell her!'
'No, but I entertained the fact that she was so honest and real about it. You know Elaine. She's such an admirable babe. She comes from the heart. And part of me wishes that she could see what she feels become both a real-life fantasy and an actual reality.'
I looked at my mother long and hard, hard in both senses. Damn me if I wasn't sold, despite my former reservations. Sara wasn't love-blind or naive. Neither was I, but maybe there was a way that my mother could fuel her own fantasy and Elaine's while just testing the waters.
After a thoughtful pause, she put down her teacup, licked her lips and said, 'my tea needs a while to cool down, are you hard for me?'
7
'Take your pants off,' Sara said as she closed the blinds over the living room bay window. I did as I was told, eager to free my hardness from the painfully tight confines of my jeans. Within seconds I was reaching for the sky, so to speak, while my mother turned to look at me with expectant eyes.
She hitched up her skirt and stripped off her panties, letting them fall down to her booted feet, then stepped out of them before perching herself on the edge of her chosen seat, the two seater-sofa right underneath the window now behind her.
'You know when I'm alone and horny and thinking about you, I daydream of us making love all day long, non-stop,' she told me. 'It's like a perfect sex scene on loop, all the best bits; just you and me sliding together and kissing and being so... fucking filthy...'
I said, 'We have all week, never mind all day!'
She nodded appreciatively and threw me another suggestive wink. 'Oh yes we do, don't we?'
I approached her, knelt at her feet, and raised her skirt to rest at her upper thighs, exposing her delicious trimmed blonde sex. Her labia had blossomed like flower petals, opening to me before I'd even touched her -- again. Her womanly aroma filled my nostrils, the smell of arousal that begged for me to couple my sex with hers.
'You know, mum, I've noticed,' I started carefully, and she listened with fascination as I went on. 'We've never been this intense before. It's like we've grown to a new feeling, or gone to another level.'
'After last night, especially,' she agreed. 'May I feel your tongue, and I'll confess something else to you?' I didn't need to be asked twice. Her powerful feline pheromones were calling to me.
Lifting her suede booted feet to my shoulders, I pushed her back down onto the sofa and passionately began to make love to her with my mouth. As always, she was deliciously savoury to my taste. Especially since she had stewed in her state of arousal all afternoon, waiting for this moment, she was hot enough that I could blister my tongue on her and still lap away like a starved dog -- but I held fast and treated her to a show.
Side to side I turned my face, my tongue and nose nuzzling those blossoming fleshy petals. They were stiff and hot to the touch and her clit stood out prominently, staring me straight in the eyes. She was so wet in fact that against my movements she squished and I ate her like a ripe mango; no teeth, just my tongue and lips now dripping with her juices.
'Wow,' she cooed, 'I'm forgetting myself here.'
Recapturing eye contact with her, I smiled with just my eyes as I made my tongue into a spear and penetrated her slowly, then curling the tip to stroke upward into her as she whimpered helplessly.
'If I could have your babies, last night would still have been no different,' she then said in an emotional, shivering state. I stopped dead in my tracks. She told me not to, so I carried on, adrenaline now surging through me like crazy. 'I'd have gladly had your babies. Does that sound crazy?'
'How long have you felt like that?' I asked, licking my fingers to massage her pussy while I carved a niche through her slit with my burning tongue.
'I haven't. It was in the heat of the moment that the feeling took over, and then all day it's all I could fantasise about, other than Elaine knowing about us. I suppose.... shhhhh-shit that right there!!! I suppose it's just as well. Not to complicate what we have...'
'Just the thought of the conscious act of making a baby with me,' I supposed, now harder than I thought possible. Mother nodded. 'I'd love to make babies with you all day long, mum,' I confessed, though she already knew that. Just being able to say it in broad daylight was such a turn on for the both of us. To confirm she felt the same she uttered a guttural sigh of the utmost satisfaction.
'That sounds so good to me. I want you to take me to bed and make babies with me,' she gasped as I snogged her pussy to orgasm, her thighs trembling and convulsing at my ears.
Burning with passion, fuelled by apprehension and adrenaline, so besotted and turned on by my orgasmic mother, I don't know what else led me to say what I did when I held out my hand to lead the way, but I swallowed my heart and said it anyway.
'I want something else for you, mum,' I said, holding her heaving body to mine and staring uncertainly into her wide and searching eyes.
'Whatever could it be?' she asked breathlessly.
'If you want to tell Elaine, then you can. I want you to!'
8
'Are you sure about this?' mum asked and instantly I nodded. We were on the bed. She was propped up on a pile of pillows and I was between her legs, running my swollen pink knob up and down the hot wet crease of her pussy, getting myself nice and slick for the moment.
Both of us were stripped fully naked by that point. I couldn't help but lean down and to play with her full tits, to suckle on her hard brown nipples and to tease her further with the tip of my tongue, before we kissed long and lovingly.
Parting with a hungry smooch, Sara searched through her phonebook and scrolled to Elaine's number, her wide-parted thighs absently bucking in unison with my up and down movements.
'I'm shaking so much I can barely work this thing,' she joked, but I could see her hands trembling clearly. I didn't know if it was apprehension, or doubt, or the sheer thrill of going through with it, but she showed no sign of backing out.
'Shall I put her on loudspeaker so we can both hear her?'
'Do it?' I dared with a grin. She grinned back, almost shrinking away from me for a moment.
'Oh god,' she whispered as the call tone began to ring. Just for starters, I began to ease my glans inside, just the tip, just a preview of what was to come. We really were going to do this. Almost encouragingly, mother's pussy hugged deliberately at the tip of my hard cock and she blew me a kiss.
'Hello Sara. How are you, lovely?' Elaine's familiar friendly voice called.
'Hello lover, miss you already. Are you up to much?' mum asked with a cheeky smirk.
'Hmmm, no I'm just alone at home, reading a story or two,' Elaine hinted. 'Enjoying your weekend with Steven?'
'Oh yeah, very much so,' mum said, and her pussy squeezed at me again as I inched in a little deeper, tempted by just how easily I could melt into her at that point. I withdrew a little and then gave her an inch more, but more or less helping myself as I waited. 'It's kind of why I'm calling,' she continued and then with baited breath, 'I need to share some thoughts with you; see what you think...'
'Oh really,' Elaine said and sounded more than intrigued. 'Of the, err, naughty kind?'
'Like you wouldn't believe,' mum said. Again, I leaned over and helped myself to her tits, taking each one into my mouth, the head of my cock resting inside the crown of her love canal, and kissing, licking, and suckling quietly as I waited for her word. Until then I worked to steady my speeding heart and listened to the tremors in her voice as she spoke.
'I'm all ears, love,' Elaine spoke secretively.
'Imagine that you're me...'
'Yes?'
'You're lying in bed on a Saturday afternoon after a day of shopping...'
'In bed after shopping,' Elaine echoed with a humoured tone, 'right?!'
'You're in bed, because your stud of a son took you to bed, and he's making love to you just like he did twice the night before!'
'Fffff-fucking hell, Sara,' Elaine gasped. Ironically, so did my mother, as at the same time I decided no longer to wait. Between taking long glances at my thick veiny cock sliding deliciously into her hot, slippery depths and enjoying the look of intense pleasure in her eyes, I whispered, 'I love you, mum, don't stop...'
'That makes me instantly wet,' Elaine stammered. 'Are you planning on going through with it?'
'D-do you th-think I should?' mum stuttered as I slowly bottomed out over and over again, before alternating the depth and starting shallow again before taking another full-length plunge. Mum bit her lip.
'Does it feel right?' Elaine asked.
'Oh god it feels like it was meant to be,' Sara groaned, gyrating her hips to literally screw me back. The fact that Elaine was actually game, that I could hear her with my own ears, drove me to insane levels of excitement. Listening to the slick squishing of my mother's juicy pussy yielding to me threatened to drive me over the edge. Mum's eyes widened when she felt me expand inside her. Teeth gritted I held off with all my willpower.
'If it happens, babe, I'll be so happy for you,' Elaine cooed. 'Fuck! That word picture, though.'
'Elaine?'
'Yes, Sara?'
There was a tangible pause, like time itself had stopped.
'I meant what I said,' mum confessed. 'We made love last night like I said -- twice!'
'Oh Sara,' Elaine cried ecstatically.
'And it's happening right now,' she hissed through bared teeth, eyes closed. 'We're having sex right now,' it all spilled out. 'His cock is so deep and delicious, he's fucking me oh so slowly; oh baby I wish you could feel it!'
'Oh my god, Sara!'
'Hi Elaine,' I chuckled, unable to help myself. Taking Sara's legs up over my shoulders for deeper penetration, I leaned in to kiss my mother, to swap spit, to taste tongues and to plant the loudest smooch on her lips. Meanwhile as I drove home with all I had, savouring in the beautiful embrace of my mother's sex, her moaning made it clear that this was no prank.
'I have no words right now,' Elaine stuttered as she worked herself over furiously. Back home where I used to live, and just a few doors down, one of my other teen fantasies -- who my mother had also apparently made love with -- was jilling herself off to the fact that her friend was now making love to her own son, and I was trembling with the possibilities of what it meant.
'You need no words, love,' I assured. 'But maybe rather than imagining you're my mother right now, you'd like to get together some time?'
'You're on,' Elaine blurted without hesitation.
'And, err, until then,' I suggested, 'mum can fill you in, and tell you all about us -- the real us!'
I heard Elaine chuckle then. I knew that tone in her voice, surely, and I was right. 'You know, part of me realised long before now? But I was never going to make an issue out of it. I think it's beautiful and I know you love each other.'
'Thank you, Elaine,' I replied gratefully. 'That means everything.'
'Now you put the phone down and we'll talk about that get-together another time. I'm going to need both hands right now,' she said with a hint of frustration.
'I'll be your hands again soon enough, lover,' mum chimed in and took over. 'I'm going to take a few photos now so you have some ammunition for your little vibro-fest...'
'Oh please do, I'm going to come buckets over those,' Elaine promised before saying her goodbyes.
9
There was a relief between us, an elusive weight lifted. In my elation I lay there in complete stillness, just gazing into my mother's eyes, as she looked back in amazement and admiration.
'Well there it is,' she supposed, tossing the phone aside. A total of fifteen photos had been taken between us; some adorable and sweet, some that left nothing to the imagination, and others that showed everything Elaine needed to know in up-close and intimate detail. We could only imagine the frenzied state she'd be in come the next hour or two.
'There it is,' I echoed back, and we began to kiss with a depth and closeness I'd never felt before. We really were different now that this had begun. And we had gone so far within a matter of hours, not even a whole day.
'Where were we?' I asked as our lips departed from each other once more.
'We're making babies,' Sara recalled.
'Yes we are,' I teased, letting my length slide lazily into her. 'Making babies together, all day long...'
Mum gasped as she accommodated me deeply. She felt like pure molten liquid around me as we melted together once more. 'Every day, baby,' she crooned as our bodies began to synchronise and become one.
'You won't be needing anymore fantasy material then?' I joked as we slid deep together, quite romantically. As her feet stroked my buttocks, her legs wrapped around me gently, she looked at me silently one more time as we made sex together.
'Maybe...'
'Name it,' I said.
'I fantasise that you fall in love with me,' my mother said as we rutted together in the most disgustingly sensuous way. And oh god did we take all day and night making babies together. I wasn't just addicted to her now. I felt it in every inch of flesh.
And I'd gladly give her every fantasy that I could. I would do anything for my mother within reason, and sometimes beyond the reasoning of society's norms. I would kill for my mother, so I believed, and yet no authority mattered other than what she desired of me.
I was going to give her every ounce of come that I had and I was going to love her for Elaine too. No doubt she'd want to see me with Elaine, judging by her expression when we were talking on the phone. The one fantasy I still couldn't give her though...
'That's not fantasy, mum,' I told her before engaging her in the sweetest lover's kiss I could summon. 'I am in love with you.'
I know, so her smile said. Not for the last time that day, or ever, we slid deep and locked together in a breathless unified gasp, my mother and I deep in love, deep in each other, making babies...