(c) Copyright 1997 Rhymer. ALL Rights Reserved
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author. This story may be freely
distributed with this notice attached. The author may be contacted
through mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.
DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION; NOT ONE WORD OF IT
IS TRUE. SOME CHARACTERS APPEAR IN THIS STORY WHO ARE UNDER THE
AGE OF EIGHTEEN. IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE OR ARE OFFENDED BY THE
SUBJECTS COVERED, PLEASE AVOID THIS STORY.
GENERATIONS
by
THE RHYMER
I've always been a bold one, and when I was younger I was a
downright cocky little bastard. I wasn't shy about what I wanted,
and I usually got it: I learned quickly that it's the aggressive,
impatient people who usually get what they're after. When I was a
kid, it was candy and toys; I could talk my Mom out of anything.
Shortly after I hit puberty, I forgot about most of the kiddie
things and focused on girls. It took me a while to figure it all
out, but I learned quick when our maid, Maria, seduced me at age
13. We enjoyed a healthy sex life for the next ten months, until
Mom fired Maria for some foul-up or another. By then I was hooked.
With Maria gone (and replaced by a sour old lady), I had to
make do with the local girls my age; pretty slim pickings in our
neighborhood. It wasn't long before I noticed Mom in that way, and
she soon took up a starring role in my nighttime fantasies. But I
never really considered making any moves on her.
My mother is a true statuesque beauty: six-one flat-footed,
with a sweet figure dominated by moderate-size, big-nippled
breasts, a delectable flat stomach, and a tight, muscular ass.
When I was a kid she attracted a lot of guys, but dated very few of
them. At the time, she was still pretty young: she had me when
she was 15, after being impregnated by some anonymous asshole I've
never seen. Luckily, Gramps was rich, and when he died he left us
quite well off. Mom didn't have to work, but she decided to use
the money to send herself through school; by the time I entered
high school, she was wrapping up her Ph.D. in psychology. She's a
helluva smart lady, and I've always been proud of her.
At age fourteen, I was walking around with a more-or-less
permanent hard-on which I only occasionally got to slide into some
tight schoolgirl cunt. Not that I was bad-looking; there just
weren't many willing girls in the out-of-the-way Texas town where
I lived. By then, I was almost six feet tall, slender, with a nice
muscular chest and ridged stomach from swimming so much. I was
usually able to control my raging hormones around Mom, but one day
they got completely out of hand.
It was August, and it must have been near 100 degrees in the
shade. It was one of those rare days we were both home, so we
decided to spend it out by the pool. Mom was probably the most
gorgeous I'd ever seen her: since she spent a lot of her free time
in the sun, her light brown hair was bleached a honey gold, and she
was a deep brown from head to toe. She set off her tan by wearing
a skimpy yellow polka-dot thong bikini that barely covered her.
She probably thought she could get away with wearing something like
that around me, since I was her sweet loving son and would never
feel *that* way about her; but hell, I couldn't keep my eyes off
her. I tried to be circumspect about it at least, and I supposed I
succeeded. She was happy and carefree that day, as she so often
is, and we talked and laughed about a lot of things. I think
that's when I first fell in love with her, in a way that was quite
unlike the ordinary familial love a son feels for his mother. This
was something Mom's friend Freud would have understood very well.
Shortly after noon, Mom went back into the house to make us
some sandwiches -- it was the maid's day off. Some ill-defined
feeling caused me to follow her. I just stood for a long moment in
the doorway separating the kitchen from the outside, and watched
her gather the makings of our lunch. When she turned to the
counter to chop the tomatoes, exposing to me the tanned globes of
her tempting buttocks, I just lost all control of myself. I
approached quietly and embraced her from behind, squeezing myself
tightly against her. "I love you, Mom!"
She patted my hand. "I love you too, Tommy." She kept on
cutting the tomatoes.
"I mean I *really* love you, Mom! You're the best mother any
boy could have!"
"I really love you too, baby." I could hear the edge of
amusement in her voice. "And thanks for the compliment."
"No problem." I slid my hands up to cup her breasts, and I
could feel my cock start to rise up out of the top of my tight
Speedo.
Mom felt it too. She stiffened, and she carefully put down
the knife. "Whoa, there. What do you think you're doing, son?"
"I believe I'm touching my sexy mother in places a boy
shouldn't touch his mom," I replied, squeezing her breasts. I
tweaked the nipples to hardness, then started to roll them between
thumb and forefinger, just like Maria had taught me. My mother
gasped, and involuntarily hunched her butt up against my crotch.
I was kinda in shock -- I couldn't believe I was doing this, and I
definitely couldn't believe she was reacting this way! "Should I
stop?"
"Hell, yes...ahhh, no, baby," she panted. "Oh, it feels so
good. S-since you've started, I'll let you keep doing it, but we
can't go any farther, OK? It -- it wouldn't be right."
"Sure thing, Mom." I ground the naked tip of my cock across
her bare asscheeks, and gradually slid my right hand down across
her tight belly. A few inches lower, and my hand was sliding under
the waistband of her bikini.
"Oh, no, Tommy! No!" My questing fingers found her clitoris,
and she moaned deep in her throat. "Oh...no baby..." I twiddled
her clit, and slid one finger down her moist slit and into her
cunt, which was practically dripping by now. "Oh YES!" she
practically shouted. "FUCK YES! Don't you dare stop!"
I'm a good son, so I did as I was told. I grinned. This was
wonderful! I removed my hands long enough to untie the strings
holding the bikini together, then let it slide to the floor. My
swimsuit followed, leaving us naked together. My hands found her
hot spots again and I started working them as I rubbed my full nine
inches along the crack of her ass. After a few minutes of this,
she started bucking and moaning and I knew she was coming. Far
out! I'd made my own beautiful mother come! I was amazed to feel
my cock swell even further. I'd never been so turned on in my
short life. "Mom," I panted, "Would you like to make love?"
"Oh my God," she groaned. "I know it's wrong, but I've never
wanted anything more in my life! Give it to me, lover!" She
braced herself against the counter and thrust her lovely butt
toward me.
I didn't waste any time. I carefully guided my cock to the
opening of her sparsely-haired pussy, and slowly entered her. In
spite of having birthed me fourteen years ago, she was as tight as
any teenager -- but of course, I'm big enough that *any* woman
feels tight, if I do say so myself (I ain't modest, either). She
came again before I'd even slid my fuckshaft all the way in to the
balls.
"UHHHHH! OH TOMMY! Uh, oh, fuck, baby! You're so damned big
it feels like you're splitting me in two! More, baby, more! Momma
wants to come again!"
Unfortunately she didn't get to right away, because I was so
hot that I managed maybe three strokes before a white hot nova
exploded at the base of my cock, and I pumped a huge incestuous
load into her, the biggest I'd ever managed. We slumped forward
across the counter, still linked.
We lay there panting for a long moment, then she said: "I
can't believe it. I can't believe my own son just made love to
me."
"Believe it," I said gently, and slowly pulled out of her.
My shrinking cock was covered with a viscous mixture of our
lovejuices. I slowly turned her around, and looked deep into her
eyes. She bore a dazed expression, and I'm sure mine wasn't any
less confused. I was feeling somewhat uncertain at this point.
"I-I told you I really, *really* love you."
"I think you proved it." She looked down at my slick tool and
ran a finger lightly across the top. "My God, baby, you're huge.
It's as big as your father's." That was maybe the fifth time in my
life I'd heard her mention the bastard. I shrugged it off and
tilted her head up so she could look into my eyes. We stared at
each other for a few seconds, and I could feel the love unfolding
within me like some rare orchid. I gently kissed her full,
inviting lips, and I could feel her start to respond against me.
It wasn't long before I had another erection.
She reached down and stroked it, then pulled away. "This
counter's uncomfortable," she purred. "Why don't we go back to my
bedroom?"
I grinned, and let her lead me by the cock into the back room.
Over the course of the next ten hours, my mother showed me things
I'd never even dreamed about, and we explored erogenous zones I
hadn't even known existed. By the time I fell into an exhausted
sleep, I'd eaten her out repeatedly, penetrated every one of her
orifices that I could manage, had been treated to several wonderful
blowjobs, and had plowed my young cock between her breasts more
than once. I came at least seven times, and she came maybe twice
that.
It took me two full days to recover.
We've been lovers ever since, and after the first two months
we decided to forsake all other lovers, since no relationship could
ever be as intense or fulfilling as the one we'd found. Mom let
the maid go -- we didn't want her around cramping our style. We
wore as little as we could around the house, but rarely went nude
-- full nakedness could never be as arousing as partial nudity. We
fucked -- no, we made love -- anytime either one of us felt the
urge.
The next two years flew by in a frenzy of love and lust.
Then, one day, she dropped a bomb on me. I'd just returned
from football practice, all hot and sweaty and horny, and she was
waiting for me on my bed, her beautiful naked ass thrust
expectantly into the air. She'd just hit her sexual peak at 31,
and we were making love more than ever, sometimes as many as five
times a day. My meat-missile homed in on her ever-ready snatch,
and we engaged in a hot and fast doggie-style fuck in which I made
her orgasm at least twice. After I spewed my load, we lay there
quietly for a moment. Then she said: "I'm pregnant."
I sat bolt upright. "What?! I thought you were on the pill!"
"I am, silly." She laughed brightly. She didn't seem at all
bothered, and to tell you the truth I could feel a little ball of
excitement in the pit of my stomach. I was going to be a father!
"Well, what happened?"
She shrugged. "Well, it does say on the box that it's only
99% effective. That means a pregnancy should result once every
hundred times you have sex. Considering the fact that we've been
making love at least twice a day for the past two years, I suppose
it was bound to happen."
"Wow!" I lay back down and snuggled up against her spoon-
fashion. "This is gonna be interesting -- I mean, I *am* your
son."
She was silent for a long moment, then: "It's more
interesting than you could know, Tommy, considering who your father
was."
"Who cares?" I said. "He split on you before I was even
born. I never even got to meet him."
"Sure you did. We lived with him. He died when you were
seven."
I sat up again, and this time I'm afraid my eyes bulged out.
"Gramps?!?"
"Yep." Mom drew in a deep breath. "Your Granny Diane died
when I was little, and Daddy was all I ever knew. I loved him
intensely. He never got over her death, never remarried, and I
knew that he was lonely. So, when I turned 14, I decided to give
myself to him. I seduced him, and we made love. I wanted to
continue our sexual relationship, but Daddy was old-fashioned and
he was so remorseful that he never touched me again. But it only
took the once. I got pregnant with you, much to his horror, and he
made me vow to never tell anyone the baby was his. You're the
first one to know." She giggled. "And now its come full circle --
I've having my own brother-son's baby! Wow."
Wow indeed. At first I was a little shocked, but soon I found
myself aroused by the fact that my gorgeous sexy mother, the most
beautiful woman I'd ever known, was obviously thrilled to be
pregnant with my child. Without preamble, I rolled Mom over onto
her back and pushed her knees back toward her shoulders, giving me
unobstructed access to her cunt. In seconds I was thrusting into
her ninety miles a minute, growling, "Baby, meet Mr. Cock. You're
gonna be seein' a lot of him in the next few months!" Mom loves it
when I talk nasty, and it wasn't long before we were both coming
like rockets.
Two days later we put the house up for sale, and in three
months -- just when Mom was starting to show -- we were safely
ensconced in a new house in Vermont, with a marriage license
certifying that we were man and wife (wouldn't do for folks to
guess that a boy had impregnated his own momma). Five months
after that, Mom gave birth to our twins, Harry and Samantha.
Over the course of the next thirteen years we basically forgot
our previous relationship and became husband and wife in every
sense of the word. Sure, deep down we knew the truth, but I'd long
since started calling her by her name (Katherine) and had stopped
treating her the way a son would treat his mother. The twins grew
into good-looking teenagers, and it was obvious that there was
nothing wrong with them either physically or mentally, despite
their tangled genetic origin.
Although I supposed it shouldn't have been surprising,
considering, it still came as something of a shock when their
mother and I came home early from the movies one night more than a
year ago to find Harry thrusting his hard teenage cock into his
sister's tight pussy, with her obviously enjoying it. We watched
them silently from the door -- they were so noisy about it that
they never heard us come in -- until Harry groaned explosively and
spewed his seed all over his sister's tummy and hairless snatch.
By then, Kathy and I were so turned on that we just had to join in,
and so we did. Man, were the kids ever surprised! I don't think
I've ever been so aroused as when I eased my throbbing
twelve-incher into my baby's supertight cunthole, while watching my
son Harry slide his own formidable rod into his mother's pussy.
We've been one, big loving family ever since.
A few months ago, Kathy let slip the fact that we were mother
and son, and that her dad was mine, too. The twins were fascinated
by the intricacies of it all, and it wasn't long before Samantha
was demanding that I put a baby in her, in order to "continue the
family tradition," as she put it. Harry made it clear that he
wanted to try it with his mother, as well. I had misgivings at
first, but the kids talked me into it. What the hell, right? Both
girls "caught" within a week of our efforts: we're a fertile bunch.
Ultrasound tells us that Sammy's going to have a boy, while
Kathy's carrying another girl. I imagine life's going to get real
interesting around here when the new babies begin to mature
sexually. Although Mom will be well past childbearing age by then,
I'll still be young enough, and the twins will be in their prime.
We'll just have to wait and see what happens....
THE END