Published on ASS/ASSM - 23 August 2011

Turn of Events

A Short Story by Scott Lakewood
F/m, inc, rom

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I didn’t realize exactly how far things could go, but I found out when the turn of events changed everything.

Up until this summer, I would have said that I was a normal, average, plain, (if not a little bit geeky) fourteen-year-old guy. The turn of events over the hot, humid weeks past have not been average, plain, or normal, but no one involved would have ever thought they were going to participate in such things. Strange how life takes little turns that no one ever dreamed
would happen.

It all started when the Base Chaplain and two Naval Officers came to the door on June 1. Having grown up in a military family, we all had heard the stories about these unwelcome groups of three that no one wanted to see getting out of a car in the neighborhood. It could only mean one thing. We called them "The Ghoul Squad"...

I had been over at the Rec Center, hanging out (by myself, as usual) and trying not to be noticed by the older boys who seemed to think that their mission in life was to torture the younger guys like me. I went inside to grab a soda from the machine, only to discover that I didn’t have any money on me, and so I
hopped on my bike to ride home, intending to get some change so I could come back to the center. My house was only a few blocks away from the rec center, so I shouldn't be gone long. They had a brand new Playstation, and my name was on the list to use it today.

I sure as heck wasn’t going to miss that, especially since my mom had said that dad would have to give his permission for me to have one, and dad’s ship wasn’t coming home until September. So, I pedaled on home, and as soon as I turned onto my street, I saw the car coming from the other end of the road. A blue Navy sedan. I got a chill, because I knew those guys always meant bad news. I slowed down to see where they were going, because I
knew everyone on this street, and most of them had someone on board the same ship my dad was on. Just about the time I got to my house, they pulled over to the curb. Right where I was going. Oh man... This couldn’t be good.

I knew that mom was home today, and that she didn’t have any houses to show, (she’s a realtor in the community where the Naval Base is located) and so I threw my bike down on the lawn, and ran inside before the Ghoul Squad could get out of their car. “Mom!” I hollered. “I think you had better come to the front door.”

“Okay, honey... I’ll be there in a minute,” she replied. She walked into the living room, wiping her hands on a towel, since she’d been in the kitchen, probably getting ready to make lunch or something. She really shouldn’t have been home, because she was supposed to go play tennis with Mrs. Simpson, the lady who lived next door. Her husband, Commander Simpson, was shipmates with my dad, and the two women often played tennis or shopped together or whatever moms do when they’re not at home. Anyway, mom came out of the kitchen, and stopped short when she saw
the three officers walking up the path from the curb through the front door that I had clumsily left open in my haste to get in before they did. I could see her wilt, her face crumble, as she realized why they were coming.

The senior officer, a Lieutenant Commander by the stripes on his shoulder boards, stopped at the door, with the chaplain and the junior officer standing slightly behind him.

He removed his sparkling white hat, cleared his throat, and spoke through the open door, “Mrs. Harrison? I’m Lieutenant Commander Sharpe, from the base casualty office.” He didn’t get another word out of his mouth, before my mother sank into a nearby chair, and let out a low moan of disbelief.

“Noooooo…” she wailed. “It can’t be! I just got an email from him last night!” she sobbed.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this Mrs. Harrison, but your husband was killed in an accident aboard ship early this morning, local time.” He extended his hand, in which was the traditional yellow Western Union telegram envelope. I already hated him, and I hated that damn envelope in his hand too.

I just stood there, open-mouthed, and in total shock. My dad wasn’t ever coming home again? What had happened out there? I knew aircraft carriers were dangerous, but dad wasn’t an aviator! He was an Intelligence Officer, and not even on flight duty. His job was to evaluate reconnaissance photos taken by A-6 crews! How could he have been involved in an aircraft accident on board his ship? He hardly ever went out on deck, he always
told me. “What the hell happened to my dad?” I screamed.

The chaplain stepped forward and took me by the elbow. “Son,” he said, “I know this is going to be difficult for you, so please let us talk to your mom. Lieutenant Jackson here will go with you, to another room, and he will explain everything that he can. Commander Sharpe and I will stay here and talk with your mom.” I dumbly stumbled toward my room, not knowing or caring if the stupid lieutenant was following me or not.

I walked into my bedroom, my eyes blurry with tears, and heard the lieutenant close the door behind him as he followed me in. I just stood there, staring out into space, trying not to cry so blatantly, when I heard the desk chair scrape across the floor. “What’s your name?” the lieutenant asked.

“Davey,” I replied, dumbly.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Fourteen, last month,” I said.

“Well, David,” he said, “Your dad was trying to help a deck crew rescue an F-18 pilot who had been shot up on an attack run over a target in the Middle East.”

I wondered where he got off calling me by my given name, until I realized that he knew I had been named after Dad. David Patrick Harrison, Jr. “You mean he was trying to help someone else?” I asked. I still couldn't turn around and look at him.

“Yes, he was,” was the calm reply. “He was trying to help the deck crew get the pilot out of the plane, after it had crash-landed into the barrier. Do you know what a barrier landing is?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” I replied. “I do. Dad explained them to me once when I was watching some videos on the computer. He said that if an airplane was disabled or damaged, or if the pilot was hurt, that a barrier sometimes could be stretched across the deck to keep the plane from skidding off the front of the carrier, or into
other planes on deck.”

“That’s right,” he said. “Your dad was on his way back to his cabin from the communications room outside the bridge. He had just sent that email your mom mentioned. He wasn’t even on duty last night.”

For the first time, I turned to look at him sitting there at my desk, and noticed for the first time the gold aviator’s wings on his white shirt. I focused on those wings for a moment, and suddenly I was furious. “You mean to tell me that my dad is dead, and he wasn’t even on duty?” I shouted. “What the hell kind of navy do you people have, when a guy isn’t even safe off duty?” I screamed.

“Well, for starters, on a carrier, you’re never really off-duty. Especially in a combat zone,” came the cool reply. “I think you’re missing the point here, David. Your dad was trying to help someone else.”

“A fat lot of good that did him, he’s dead because of it.” I mumbled, as the anger slowly subsided. “I just don’t understand how he could die like that.”

“Well, I’m not really supposed to tell you this,” the lieutenant said, “but your dad ran up to where the firefighting crew was, at the side of the aircraft, to try to help get to the emergency canopy release, so the recovery crew could get the pilot out. Just as he pulled the handle, and the canopy opened, some of the rounds in the plane’s cannon exploded, because of the heat of
the fire around the cockpit. That caused some internal damage to the aircraft, and small pieces of the airplane struck most of the members of the rescue crew. Your dad was in the way of one of those pieces. Do you understand, David? It was a freak accident. The plane captain on the ship said that they wouldn’t have gotten the pilot out in time if your dad hadn’t been there to help, which means that he saved that pilot’s life. He’s a hero, David.”

“Did he feel anything?” I asked. “Did it hurt? I have to know.” I sobbed. I was not angry anymore, and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and cry, but I couldn’t let this navy officer see that. I tried to hide my tears, but I wasn’t very successful.

“No, he didn’t. As far as I know, he died nearly instantly,” he said. “Your dad was very brave to run into danger like that, and Commander Sharpe is going to present your mother with two medals for your father, at the funeral in a couple of days. One of those medals is rarely given out these days, but your father is going to get it. It’s the Gold Lifesaving Medal, and it is awarded for extreme bravery in saving someone’s life, at great risk to your own. The other will be a Purple Heart, but I know that you know what that one is for. If it hadn't been for your dad, that pilot wouldn't be here, and neither would some of the deck crew either. Your dad saved a lot of lives yesterday, and I'm sorry that he lost his while he was doing it.”

This lieutenant was really being calm, showing me that I could let it out, and he wouldn’t think less of me for it. Surprising, but I didn’t know what to expect. I thought for a moment, and asked, “Lieutenant Jackson, will my dad get a full military funeral, with honors?”

“Yes, David, he will,” he said. “But before then, I need you to do something for me. Can you?” he asked.

“Sure, what is it,” I replied.

“You’re going to have to look after your mom for the next few weeks. I mean really look after her. Make sure that she eats, that she gets some rest, has plenty of fluids, and all those basic things that people seem to forget about when they’re grieving. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir, I can do that.” I was after all, a Naval Officer’s son, and I knew some of the protocol.

Lieutenant Jackson stood up, and stepped towards me. “I know you’ll be fine, and you’ll take good care of your mom. David,” he said, placing his hand on my shoulder, “I really think you ought to try to not leave your mom alone in the next couple of days. Sometimes, in times of a sudden loss, people get really depressed, and never come out of it. But with your attention, and showing that you care about your mom, she’ll be fine, I promise,” he said.

“I’ll do my best, Sir.” It was all I could say, as we walked back out to the living room. Mom was still sitting in the easy chair, and Commander Sharpe and the chaplain were sitting on the sofa near her. They all looked up as we walked back in. Mom jumped up as soon as she saw me, and rushed over to hug me.

“Davey,” she sobbed, “we’re going to be all right. Your dad was a hero, and he gave his life trying to save someone else.”

“I know mom,” was my soft reply. I could see the tears in her eyes, and I knew that tonight was going to be a hard one. Little did I know that the turn of events would prove me right.

The commander and the chaplain stood up, they all expressed their sadness at our loss, and they slowly walked out the still-open front door. Lieutenant Jackson stopped, and turned to look me in the eye. He slowly winked, closed the door, and was gone. What was I going to do now?

-----

Later that evening, after a not so well prepared dinner of sandwiches and chips that I threw together so mom wouldn’t have to stand in the kitchen in the shape she was in, we were sitting in the living room, with the lights out, no TV, and a quiet stillness in the house. I kept staring up at the mantel where a big photo of dad was, and I realized that I was going to have to be the man of the house now. I looked over at mom, sitting on the sofa, staring out into space, and realized that she felt very alone now.

I got up from the easy chair, and went over to sit beside her. I reached down, took her hand, and said, “Mom, I know it looks pretty bleak now, but we’ll get through this, I promise. I’ll do my best to make things better, I swear I will. We still have each other. I know I can’t ever take his place, but I can try to be the man of the house now, mom.”

She smiled at me, for the first time that day, and said, “Davey, my baby boy, I believe you. I know you’re going to be strong for the both of us. What would you say to going out on the deck in back, and watching the stars go by for a while? I feel like having a glass of wine, and you can have a soda, and we’ll just sit there and enjoy the evening stars together. Is that okay with you?”

“Of course it is, mom. Anything you say. Would you like white, or red?” I smiled.

“White, I think. Thanks. I’ll be right out in a moment, but I have to go to the restroom first. Can you fix everything and take it out to the deck?” she asked.

“Right away, mom.” I said. I jumped up and went to the kitchen. Where the heck did she keep the wine glasses? Oh yeah, over in the cabinet by the dining room table. I went over, got two glasses, and came back into the kitchen to get the wine out of the fridge. I had never worked a corkscrew before, but I’d seen it enough on TV to figure out how it went. I got the wine open, poured about half a glass for mom, and then I opened a soda and
poured half of it into the other glass. I figured I’d share at least the glass with her, as we sat out on the deck and drank together.

Mom came out of the restroom, and as she slid the door open, I got a good look at her. She was still wearing the tennis outfit she’d had on, but for some weird reason, she looked positively angelic in the soft moonlight. The light gleamed off of her golden blonde hair, and the soft backlight of a lamp in the den gave her tanned skin this other-worldly glow, almost.

I hadn’t really thought about it before, but my mom was pretty good looking. She might be almost 40, but she played tennis three times a week, worked out at the base gym two days a week, and was in better shape than I was. At least that’s what Timmy Jones had said the last time he was over here. The thought of my friend telling me that he thought my mom was hot really made me angry at the time, but I decided that if I was going to be the man of the house, I had to be more mature, and let those kinds of things go. I sure as heck wasn’t going to let Timmy Jones ever come back in my house again, though.

Mom came on out and sat on the chair next to me, where I had placed her wineglass. She noticed for the first time that I had an identical glass, but could tell that it was soda in it. She smiled again, as if to tell me that it was a nice thought.

“Davey,” she said, “If there’s anything you need, you just let me know. We’re all each other has anymore,” she said, as she burst into tears again.

“Oh mom, don’t cry,” I said. “It will be all right, I promise. I will do whatever I have to do to make it all right. Really I will. And you should tell me if there’s anything you need, because you know I’ll do anything for you.”

She looked up at me, tears running down her face, and began to shudder with the sobs that were racking her body. I felt completely powerless to stop it, knowing that we both had to let it out, but I also knew that mom had an empty space in her now, and nothing I could do would fill it. I reached out and took her hand, and just held it in the moonlight. I hated that I couldn't
do anything to ease her pain.

“Oh, Davey, what am I going to do?” she sobbed. “I don’t know how I’m going to get through this!”

I noticed that her wineglass was empty, so I refilled it from the bottle I had left on the table next to me. She almost smiled at me, and began to sip at her wine, as she stared out into the blackness of our backyard. I don’t know how long we sat out there making small talk, but I do know that I had to get up and open another bottle of wine for her, and get more sodas for me. Finally, I noticed that she looked a little drowsy, and I glanced at the clock inside the sliding glass door. It was after
midnight! I couldn’t believe we had been out there that long! “Mom,” I said, “don’t you think we ought to go inside? Isn’t it time you tried to get some sleep?”

She looked over at me with her red-rimmed eyes, and nodded. “Davey, you really are the man of the house now. I suppose that I had better start listening to you when you tell me something.” she mumbled, her words slurred from the wine, “But, I don’t think I’m steady enough to make it all the way by myself. Could you at least help me get to the bedroom?” she asked.

I was trying to be manly when I said, “Sure, mom. Anything for you. I’ll even help you get ready for bed if you want.” I didn’t mean it to be anything other than helpful, but she stopped suddenly, and looked at me, with this strange expression on her face.

After a moment, it was like something different, something more focused or powerful passed over her, and she looked me right in the eye. “I’d like that, young man. Lead the way!” she said as she stepped unsteadily toward the patio door. She leaned against the door, until I came around the chairs and lent her my shoulder to lean on. We made our way slowly down the hall, and stopped at her bedroom door. “No, not in here, Davey. I just don’t think I can go in this room right now. How about across the hall in the guest room?” she said.

Now, I’m fairly tall for my age, but mom is only about 5’-3”, so I was pretty much looking at the top of her head when she leaned over right into me, and just hugged me. For some reason, it felt really odd, to have my mother hugging me that way, right in front of her bedroom door. I put it down to the two bottles of wine and the turn of events of this day, so trying to be casual, I just reached around behind her to turn the knob on the guest room door, and we slowly stumbled into the room.

I sat her down on the bed, and stepped back across the hall to rummage through her dresser for a t-shirt or something for her to put on. I found this big, pink, oversized shirt that Dad had brought home from a cruise when they had stopped in the Bahamas or somewhere, and when I got back into the guest room, she was sitting there on the edge of the bed wearing nothing but a sports bra and thong panties. Her tennis outfit was strewn across the floor.

I stopped short, holding the pink t-shirt in my hands, and looked at her by the soft light of the bedside table. Timmy Jones was right. My mom was hot. I noticed the curve of her breasts as they filled the cups of her sports bra, the taut, defined muscles of her flat stomach, the curvy line of her hips in the thong panties she was wearing. She even had fantastic legs. “Boy,” I thought. “I hope I end up with a hot chick like this when I grow up!”

It was all I could do not to stare, until I realized I had used the exact same phrase Timmy had used. ‘Hot chick’. This was my mom after all. I tried to avert my gaze, but I kept looking back at her. “Mom,” I said, “Here’s a shirt for you to sleep in. I’ll turn around so you can get changed.”

I didn’t get to turn around, because she didn’t wait for me to. She just matter-of-factly pulled her sports bra right over her head, looking me right in the eye all the while. Her breasts fell free of the fabric, and I could not believe how smooth her skin was, and how full those breasts were. The nipples were small and a little darker than the rest of her creamy skin, and there were no tan lines either, but geez, these were my mom’s boobs I was ogling! What was the deal here? “Mom, um, here’s your shirt.” I said. I handed it to her, and she stood up, unsteadily. So unsteadily in fact, that she fell against me.

Taken by surprise, I caught her around the waist, as the full globes pressed into my chest. I could smell the slight hint of perfume in her golden blonde hair. Was she even awake? Had she passed out, or what? She was just holding the night shirt down by her side, leaning her nearly bare body against me. I thought about what Timmy Jones had said again, and felt a little tremble in the pit my stomach. The last thing I wanted right now was to get a stiffy with my own mom in my arms, but damned if it didn’t begin to happen. So, I eased her back so she could sit on the bed. As she did, her legs parted slightly, and I noticed that I
had a clear shot of her with just the thin band of fabric from her thong in the way. That was all it took. I was rock hard, and feeling really weird about it.

She tried to lift the shirt up over her head, but in doing so, she fell back heavily across the bed, her feet dangling off the edge. “Davey,” she murmured, “Are you still here? I seem to need some help here.”

“Yes, mom, I am,” I replied. “let me help you get that shirt on. I think you might have had too much wine. Do you feel all right?” I asked.

“Mmmm... wine...” she mumbled, “and yes... I file feen.” The slurring of her words, and the way she mixed them up caused her to giggle, and the movement caused her breasts to wobble slightly, which aroused me even more. What was I going to do about this? I just couldn’t believe that my own mother was turning me on! It seemed for a second that she was even flirting, what with the way she looked at me.

“Mom, I know you’ve had too much wine, and so I am going to just go on to bed myself. Good night.” As I turned to walk out of the room, it hit me. I had an unbelievable chance here. I couldn’t get the thought of Timmy’s comment out of my head, and having seen pretty much all there was to see of my mom, I realized how right he was. She was hot. The hottest woman I had ever seen. And she was practically naked on a bed, right in front of me!

It was at that moment that my teenage hormones kicked in. I might have a chance to...

To do what?

Maybe cop a feel of a real breast on a real woman? I had no idea what to do, but a cough from mom broke my reverie, and as I turned back around, I decided that I was going to go as far as I could, to where ever I could, before she stopped me. “On second thought, Lieutenant Jackson told me not to leave you alone, and so I think I am going to spend the night in here with you, to be sure you’re okay. Is that all right with you? I asked, hesitantly.

“Oh baby, you certainly can stay in here with me tonight, I really don’t want to be alone. Having my big strong boy in here with me will be a comfort.” she said. And then she smiled. Not mom’s usual smile, but that of a woman who was really looking at someone else. I wondered who she was seeing.

“Here goes,” I thought, and then stopped short. My pajamas were in my room down the hall. Now, I felt trapped. I had just said that I wasn’t going to leave mom alone, and now I was thinking about going out to get my pajamas? I couldn’t believe the thoughts racing around inside my skull! Given what vague thoughts had already run through my mind about what I might be able to get away with, why was I now being suddenly so modest? So, I stopped, turned around, and unzipped my jeans. I kicked off my tennis shoes, and began to slide the denim down my legs, when mom drew in a deep breath. She had seen the bulge in my underwear, and realized that I wasn’t a “little” boy anymore. I think the idea of the taboo sort of excited her, because she never took her eyes off me as I began to undress. I pulled my shirt off over my head, and slowly walked over to the bed. “As long as you’re not going to wear that t-shirt, I’m not going to wear one either!” I said, almost defiantly. If she was going to stop me, now was her chance. She said nothing.

Still somewhat dumbfounded, I pulled the covers back on the other side of the bed, and lay down. Mom was still lying crosswise, but it was a king, and there was plenty of space. She tried to sit up, but couldn’t quite make it, so she rolled over on her stomach, which, by the way, gave me a good look at the full, round, curves of her bottom. A bottom mostly exposed in a filmy white thong. I realized I could see at least 90% of her butt! And what a fantastic one it was!

She slid herself up until her head was on the pillow, and her feet were finally aimed the right way, and she was lying next to me. Well, sort of. There was about two feet of space between us, and I could hear her breathing. I rolled over on my side, to look at her, and saw that she had her head turned towards me. Neither she nor I had the slightest idea what to say, but it was at that moment that we apparently had the same thought. We were all we had now. I was the man of the house, and this is now my house as well as yours. At that point, we leaned into each other, and gently kissed.

I simply could not believe what was happening, and I’m sure that mom couldn’t either, but we held our gentle kiss for what seemed to be a very long time. She reached up, and brushed the hair out of my eyes, as she had done when I was a little kid, and said, “Davey, I don’t know how we’re going to get through this, but as long as we do it together, we will get through it.”

“Mom,” I started, but she interrupted me.

“No, David.” she said, placing a finger over my lips, “in here, in this room, I am not ‘mom.’ This is now your house as much as it is mine, as much as it was your dad’s. He’s gone now, and it’s yours. Along with everything in it. In here, I am Carol. Not ‘mom’ but Carol. Do you understand what I am telling you?”

My heart leapt into my throat, and I understood exactly what she meant. She used my full given name. Not my nickname. She called me 'David'. The only other times she had ever called me 'David' had been when I'd been in trouble. For some reason, I didn't think that I was in any trouble just then.

The raging erection I had at that moment, positively throbbed with the thought. She was giving herself to me, here, right here in this bed. Or at least she was telling me that she would let me go as far as I wanted, which was the same thing in my hormone-engorged brain.

This was so far outside of my concept of what could have happened, that I had no idea what to even think about it. In fact, I had no idea what could have happened anyway. I’d seen the occasional porn video on the computer, and looked at a few websites, but I had absolutely no clue how to go about getting to that point. And apparently, mom could sense my hesitation and uncertainty. She reached down, took my hand, and brought it up to her lips, gently kissing my fingertips. She murmured slightly, slurred still by the wine, and I couldn’t catch what she said, so I asked. “Mom, um, I mean, Carol, what did you say?”

“I said that I am going to have to teach you what you needed to know, for you to take your rightful place here.” she replied. “Are you willing to do this? We can stop, and nothing more will ever be said about it after tonight, but you’re old enough to understand, that once we go forward from here, there is no turning back. We can never talk about this outside this room, not to anyone. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, I do understand you. And yes, I am perfectly willing to live with those rules. What do I do?” I asked, slightly afraid now. Not afraid because I knew this was wrong on so many levels, but because I didn’t want to let my mom down.

“First, we start by doing this,” she said, as she removed the filmy white thong she was wearing. She reached over, and slowly drew my underwear down, and in a moment, we were pressed against each other, face to face, with nothing between us. I could feel the heat of her skin against mine, as my throbbing hardness pressed into the soft skin of her belly. Again, she turned her face up to kiss me, but this kiss was different, her tongue gently parted my lips, and I felt a slight suction from her mouth, as it pressed against mine. Not knowing what to do, I began to gently explore her mouth with my tongue, emulating her actions.

“Mmmmmm...” she moaned. I felt her warm hand against my back, sliding down to cup my buttocks, as she drew me tighter to her. I mirrored her motions, and felt my hand sliding across the smooth skin of her round, full bottom, my fingers splayed across the crease between her cheeks. She wiggled in a little closer, and moved her hand around slowly, to my front, where her fingers closed around my hardness. Her touch was electric, and I drew in a sharp breath of air as my body stiffened.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked.

“No,” I stammered, “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“You’re going to have to roll over a little. Lie on your back.” She said. As I complied, She raised up over me, and began to kiss my chest, slowly moving down, until her face was directly over my swollen manhood. She looked up at me, her blonde hair framing her face, and said, “I’m not going to ask if you’ve ever had this done before, but I hope that I please you.” The soft light from the bedside table made her look like a golden angel hovering over me, her delicious breasts gently brushing my thighs. She lowered her lips to my firmness, and gently swirled her tongue around the tip. I shuddered, and she took me into the warm, wet recesses of her mouth. I could feel the heat of her throat as she slowly took the entire length of me into her mouth. I could not believe this. I’d never imagined anything like this, and I began to relax, hoping that it was not just some weird dream.

Her lips repeatedly slid wetly up and down the length of me, and I felt myself getting harder, if such a thing were possible, until she abruptly stopped, and lifted up to look at me. “David,” she said, “Did you like that?”

“Yes, m- uh, Carol. I never dreamed anything could feel so good.”

“Well,” she replied, “just wait. There’s much more to learn.” At that point, she lifted herself up, somewhat unsteadily, still apparently affected by the wine, and straddled my thighs. Her hand was wrapped gently around my hardness, and she inched herself upwards, until her warm, wet opening was directly over me. I looked down, and saw that she was as hairless as me, and thought, “Damn, how cool that she shaves!” as the tip found the hot, slick opening. She was as ready as I was. As she began to settle herself over me, I slid in deeper and deeper, until her
smooth pubic area was in full contact with mine. For just a moment, I hoped I was big enough for her, until I realized just how tight she was.

“Um, Carol,” I began, “am I big enough for you? I mean, I can feel how your, uh, you are so tight around me.” She pressed her finger over my lips, and nodded.

“You’re more than enough, my man. Don’t worry.” She began a gentle rocking motion, slightly lifting up and lowering back down, and I began to realize just how pleasurable this could be. As silly as it sounded, even to me, all I could think was, "this is way more cool than any damn Playstation!"

She continued this motion for what seemed like an eternity, and suddenly I felt a tickle deep in my belly. I knew what this meant! I was going to come! Suddenly, a panic enveloped me. What was I going to do? I couldn’t come here, this way, inside my mom, could I?

“Carol, stop, I’m going to, um, I mean, I feel...” once again, she pressed her finger to my lips to silence me.

“David, shhhhh. It’s okay. You’re right where I want you, and I want to feel you inside me. Relax, and just let it happen.” she said. Her motions picked up a little speed, as if she were trying to make it happen faster. The feeling kept building, and suddenly I couldn’t contain it any longer. I exploded inside her, and she fell heavily onto me, forcing me in as deeply as I could go, as the waves of orgasm cause me to spurt again and again. I could feel the heat of her womanhood surrounding me, and the slick feel of my own fluids mingling with hers, as she began to moan and moved her hips, grinding into me rhythmically, coming to her peak at the same time as I did.

I had just made love with my MOM! Oh my GOD! I was somewhat overcome with disbelief, as she settled herself against me, pressing her full bosom against my bare chest, with me still inside her. I could hear her deep sigh in my ear, and I felt her smile.

“I don’t feel so alone anymore, David,” she said. “I know now that everything’s going to be all right.”

“Mom, uh, I mean, um, Carol,” I stammered, “Did you mean to do this, or is this a dream, or what?” I demanded.

“I knew that I would totally fall apart,” she began, “if I didn’t share some real connection with someone, and soon. You were here, you were trying so hard to be grown up for me, and it seemed like the right thing to do. And it was the right thing to do. And it will be the right thing to do, as long as we both want to keep doing it. Do you want to keep doing it?” she asked.

“I will do whatever I have to do to keep you happy. That’s my job now,” I said.

“Then do you feel like you can do it again?” she asked, with a sly grin.

“I think I can,” I said, “what should I do?”

“Well, let’s rest a moment, and just hold each other,” she
said.

“Okay, that sounds good.” I said. We were soon lying spoon fashion, my stomach pressed against her back, and I felt her soft breathing. I had one hand on her soft, smooth belly, and the other cupped around one of her breasts.

“David,” she said, “we need to talk about this a little, if it’s okay with you.”

“What do we need to talk about?” I asked.

“Well, you know, and I know, that what we’ve just done here was the best thing we could do for each other at this moment, because of all that happened today. You do know that, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yes, I know.” I said.

“No one else will understand what we’ve done, and what we are going to do,” she said. “What we’ve done is against the law everywhere, and is considered immoral and wrong. It’s called ‘incest’ and is a very big taboo in most cultures,” she explained.

“I know that,” I said, remembering my social studies class, where they talked about those primitive cultures in the Amazon basin in South America, “but no one else will ever know if neither of us ever says anything about it.” I was sure that there was not one single person I knew that I would ever tell about this night. Especially that asshole Timmy Jones!

“That’s right. We must never speak of this to anyone, ever,” she said, “I said it before, what happens in this room, stays in this room. In here, I am not mom. Everywhere else in the world, I am, but no one ever need know what goes on in here, except you and I.” She paused, and she took my hand from her breast, and kissed it. “There is something else I have to talk about, and it is serious. There are many people in the world who would say that what we have done can be damaging to young people, that it can scar them mentally for life, and that it is abusive. Do you feel like that is true, now that we’ve done it?” she asked.

I thought about it for a moment. “No, I don’t. I know that what happened here is special, and that it is, and will stay our secret. I don’t think it’s going to mess up my mind or anything, and I don’t really feel weird about it. It will take a while before I can fully figure all this out, but I love you, and I know you love me, and we are all we have now, so we will keep this to ourselves, and work it out.”

“You are so mature, and so grown up,” she told me. “In this moment, I am so proud of you.”

Well, in that moment, let me tell you, I was feeling the warmth of female skin pressed against me, and I could feel the curve of her bottom pressing against me down there. As I began to think about it, I could feel a stirring between my legs, and the beginning fullness of another hardening. She could feel it too, and she wiggled against me, as if to encourage it.

“You’re becoming ready again, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Yes, I am... Carol...” I said, with an inward smile. “Can we do it again?”

“Oh yes,” she said, as she turned over to face me. I felt her lips gently brush mine, and then she leaned slightly away, to roll onto her back. “I want you to look me in the eyes and kiss me while we do it this time,” she whispered.

I could feel her hand close around me, with a gentle squeeze and a slow slide up and down my length, and I started to roll onto her. Her legs parted, and my hips settled in between hers. I lowered my head and traced the tip of my tongue across her hardened nipples, which brought a gasp and moan from her. She lifted my head, and kissed me wantonly, aggressively, holding my face between both of her hands. “This time, I want you to give it all you have. Don’t be gentle, give it to me hard and fast, and strong, my lover.”

I reached down and guided the tip of my hardness to her warm,
moist opening, and as I started to slide forward, she grabbed
my butt and pulled me all the way into her. “Give it to me,
David, give it to me hard!” she cried.

I began a fast, strong, and deep movement, sliding almost all the way out, before slamming my length all the way into her.
I could hear her little mewling cries start to grow louder, developing into deep moaning whimpers as I plowed away. I began to kiss her, gently at first, only with my lips, and then harder, running my tongue into her mouth, as we moved together. And wow, was she ever kissing me back!

I don’t know how long we went, but I could feel her begin to shudder beneath me, the firm muscular depths of her inner flesh pulsating, grasping, squeezing, over and over. She convulsed with pleasure under me, and as I began to feel that tell tale tickle starting in my gut, she ran her hand across my back and down again to my buttocks, pulling me forcefully into her repeatedly... I began to erupt once more, deep inside her, and she screamed out her agonizing pleasure. I slowed my movements,
instinctively grinding my pelvis against hers, her body shuddering each time. Her legs were wrapped around me, her face was contorted in the most beautiful way I had ever seen, as I realized I had given her not one, but several orgasms. Wow, me! I did this!

“Baby, that was so good,” she murmured in my ear. “I can’t believe how good a lover you are. And with more practice, we will both get better and better together. There is so much more that we can share with each other, and I intend to share all of it with you. We will do everything you ever imagined, and some things you haven’t ever even dreamed of.”

As we drifted off to sleep, the last thought that went through my mind was that I knew that I was going to spend a lot lesstime
at the Rec Center this summer...


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Comments Welcomed, Critiques Requested, Flames Ignored.
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does
not condone or recommend the behavior described in this
story to be considered in real life in any way, shape, or form.
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