Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Chapter 8 It was odd, Caroline thought as she pulled into the driveway,
that there were no lights on in the house.  It was not yet sunset, but with
the rain it was almost as dark as night.  A little light showed through the
curtains in the living room window.  It looked like they'd lit a fire, but
it was strange for them to sit there in the dark.

   When she walked in and took off her raincoat the house seemed deserted.
Maybe they'd gone over to friends, she thought, and left the fire going. 
Though that wasn't like Sam.  He was always very careful with things like
that.  A faint sound came from the living room, like voices.  So they were
here after all.

   Caroline walked into the living room.  It was so dark she could barely
see anything.  The fire was going, as she'd thought, but she didn't see the
kids.  Then she caught the glint of firelight on skin and heard a soft
sound, like Joan's voice, but without words.  Why were they lying in front
of the fire?  And what were they...

   "Jesus Christ!" Caroline screamed.  "What are you doing?!"

   Sam and Joan had been too intent on each other to notice her entrance,
but at her cry they both looked up in startlement.  Sam jumped to his feet
and offered a hand to help Joan.  They were both nude.  It was more than
obvious what they'd been doing.

   "Mom!" Joan said.  "We didn't..."

   "Get out of here!  Go to your rooms, right now!  Both of you!  God damn
it, right now!"

   The kids fled upstairs, though the bit of a giggle that floated back to
her didn't indicate that they were very worried about her anger.  The sound
of two doors closing followed.  Caroline found herself trembling.  How had
this happened?  How long had it been going on?  What had she done wrong,
that her children were...were...she couldn't bring herself to think it.  An
image of them, bodies together, limbs entwined, came back to her.  She had
to go talk to them; confront them; find out what was going on.  But at the
moment she couldn't face it.  Still numb with shock, she went into the
kitchen.  There was a bottle of brandy in the cupboard, and she really
needed a drink.

   Sam lay on his bed, waiting.  He'd put on some clothing, not liking his
mother's probable reaction if she found him still naked.  He wasn't too
worried.  His inner certainty assured him that he would find his way out of
this problem.  Mom had just been surprised, that was all.

   He heard the creak of the stairs, then a knock at Joan's door.  Voices
rose and fell, too muffled for him to make out words, though he could
recognize the intonation: angry at first; questioning; pleading.

   After a while Joan's door closed again, and a knock came at his own.

   "Come in," Sam called.

   The door swung open and his mother stood in the doorway.  She looked a
bit calmer, but still deeply upset.  Her face was flushed.  A faint scent
of alcohol came to him; she'd had a drink, maybe more than one.

   "Sam," his mother said.

   Sam sat up on his bed.  "I'm sorry we upset you, Mom."

   Caroline drew in a breath, then let it out.  "But not sorry for what you
did?"

   "No," Sam said.  "Not really."

   His mother closed her eyes, then opened them.  "Joan said that today was
the first time you...did this.  Is that true?"

   "Yes," Sam said.

   "Why?!" Caroline demanded, then before he could answer, said "Never
mind. I know we've all been under a lot of stress...and with your
illness... anyway, I'm sure we can figure this out.  I'm going to call a
man I know tomorrow.  He's a therapist.  I want you to talk to him.  Joan,
too."

   "I'll talk to him, if you want me to," Sam agreed quietly.  "But there
isn't anything wrong with us."

   "Isn't...!" Caroline stopped herself.  "I think you'd better stay in
your room tonight.  Are you hungry?  I can bring you something."

   "I'm all right," Sam said.  "I'll stay in here."

   "Well...good night, then," Caroline said, and left abruptly, closing the
door behind her.

   Sam picked up the book he'd been reading earlier and settled back to
wait.  He didn't want to see a therapist, but he didn't really think he
would have to.  After seeing his mother, he knew what he was going to do.

   Caroline got ready for bed with a feeling of despair.  She'd eaten her
dinner alone, and sat listlessly staring at a book without reading it. 
Another glass of brandy had made her feel dizzy, but hadn't eased her inner
turmoil.  The shock of seeing her children fucking -- she made herself
think the words with brutal honesty -- had affected her; but even worse was
her own reaction to the sight.  Though she could not admit it to her kids,
she had to admit it to herself.  Her first reaction had been lust.  Even
jealousy.  When she thought of her two kids together (and the image came
back to her again and again, as if seared onto her mind's eye), she
wondered what it would be like if it had been her instead of Joan; if Sam's
cock had been in her pussy.  It gave her a tingle every time she thought
about it, and she couldn't stop thinking about it.

   God, she thought.  Have I somehow infected my children with my own,
unnatural desires?  Are they acting out a fantasy of mine?  It had somehow
come out of her worry for Sam, which brought her love for him to the
forefront, and her increasingly frustrated longing for a man of her own.

   Numbly, she looked at her body in the mirror.  The sight, which had
given her some satisfaction the night before, now just enhanced her
anxiety. Joan could almost have been a younger version of herself; and Sam,
a younger version of her husband.  She remembered, vividly, the first time
she and James had made love, the dizzying pleasure of it, his strong
muscles moving over her, his hardness penetrating to the core of her being.
His features kept blurring, transforming into Sam's.  With a shock she
realized that her hand had moved between her legs, her fingers slicking
over the moisture there.  She snatched the hand away.  What was she doing?
She was masturbating to the image of her son!  She wished now that she
hadn't drunk the brandy; it seemed to sap her self-control.

   Quickly Caroline shut out the lights, and climbed into bed without
bothering with her nightgown.  She tried to lay still, her arms rigidly at
her sides, but it was no good.  As soon as her mind wandered to the thought
of her kids in the living room, her hand would slip between her legs again.
Finally she gave in.  With her eyes closed, she stroked herself, imagining
Sam's strong arms around her, his hard cock inside her.  She would have to
talk to the counselor as well, she thought, as her pleasure mounted.  There
was something wrong with her...very, very wrong...

   Orgasm washed over her, bringing an audible groan from her throat. 
Almost at once, she collapsed into sleep.

   Sam waited for a while after hearing his mother's door close before
leaving his room.  He opened Joan's door a crack and slipped into her room,
closing it after him.  She woke as soon as he touched her, scooting over to
let him get into bed with her.  He took her in his arms and held her
against his chest.  It felt very natural.

   "Sorry," he whispered.  "I guess we should have kept a better eye on the
time."

   Joan giggled a little.  "I'm not really sorry, except that we were
interrupted.  But I guess we really upset Mom."

   "Yeah," Sam said, feeling a bit guilty.

   "She wants me to talk to a therapist."

   "Me too."

   Joan sighed.  "I don't really want to.  What if word gets out?  And...I
don't want to stop."

   "Maybe we won't have to," Sam suggested.

   Joan looked up at him.  "Really?  How?"

   Sam hesitated before speaking.  "I think Mom was upset by more than just
finding us there.  I think...I think she kind of wishes it were her, and
that feeling bothers her."

   "Really?" Joan said in surprise.

   "Yeah." Sam felt the same inner confidence.  "Yeah, I do."

   "Wow!" Joan rested her head back on his chest.  "I never thought of
that."

   They lay together for a little while.  Then Sam said, "What would you
think about that?  Would it bother you?"

   "You and Mom?" Joan considered.  "Well...no, not really.  I mean, I'd
still want to fuck you whenever possible.  But...no, it would be okay if
you were fucking her, too." She thought about it some more.  "In a strange
way, it would be kind of nice.  You know, something all of us had in
common."

   Sam tilted his head down and kissed her.  "You're the greatest, you know
that?"

   "Yeah," said Joan, kissing him back.  "About time you realized it."

   They snuggled together for a while longer.  After a few minutes, Joan
asked, "So, are you going to...you know, try with Mom?"

   "Yeah," Sam said.  "I'm going to try it tonight.  But I wanted to tell
you first."

   "OK," Joan said.  "So, how's your stamina?"

   Sam chuckled.  "I've got more stamina than you know what to do with. 
Why?"

   Joan shifted away from him and sat up, peeling her nightgown off over
her head, then stripping off her panties.  Her upturned nipples were erect.
She helped Sam remove his t-shirt and shorts, then slid back into bed,
pulling him onto her.

   "Mom interrupted us at a kind of critical point," Joan said.  "I'd sort
of like to recapture the moment."

   Sam pushed into her, provoking a soft sigh of contentment.  "All right,"
he said, starting to move inside her, "but keep it down!  We don't want to
wake Mom.  At least, not prematurely."

   Sam stepped quietly into Caroline's bedroom and closed the door behind
him.  He paused to let his eyes adjust.  His mother kept a night-light in
her bathroom, and a bit of watery moonlight had broken through the clouds
as well.  Caroline lay on her back on the bed, apparently heavily asleep.

   When he was able to make out all the objects in the room, he moved to
the side of her bed.  Her eyes were closed; her red hair, color invisible
in the dim light, was spread out about her head.  Sam gently drew the
covers off of her.  She stirred, but didn't wake; under the covers she was
nude, one hand resting lightly on her thigh.  He could smell the scent of
her arousal clinging to her, mingling with the faint scent of brandy, and
felt his cock become erect again.  He had left his night-clothes in Joan's
room.  He didn't think he'd need them.

   God, she was beautiful.  He had always known it at an objective level,
but now he drank in the sensual delight of her: soft lips, high cheeks,
full breasts rising and falling with her breathing.  She stirred a little
in her sleep, seemed to mumble something, then was still again.

   With a feather light touch he moved his fingers over her skin, tracing
her lips, her cheeks, her throat; moving down to her breasts, he teased the
nipples ever so lightly, bringing them fully aroused.  Down over her belly,
her thighs.  Without her waking, symptoms of arousal had begun to appear on
her; her skin flushed, her breathing quickened.  He stroked gently over her
slit, and watched as her thighs instinctively parted.  Continuing these
motions with one hand, he moved the other back to her breasts, stimulating
and arousing her.

   "Oh, Sam..." she sighed, and woke.  Seeing him there, she went rigid,
then visibly relaxed.  "Oh, Sam," she groaned again in a tone of
resignation.

   "Hi, Mom," he said quietly.  "I thought...this was what you really
wanted.  Isn't it?" He continued to touch her, sliding a finger inside her
to stroke within.

   For a long moment, Caroline seemed to struggle with herself.  Then all
resistance left her.

   "Yes, Sam," she said.  "This is what I wanted.  Please -- please, just
do it to me.  I need you inside me so badly I can't stand it."

   Sam instantly climbed onto the bed.  He slid into her as smoothly as a
dream, Caroline groaning in acceptance.  Her arms and legs came around him
and pulled his body to her.  They kissed, first lips, then tongues, with
greater and greater urgency.

   "You see, Mom?" Sam said after a while.  "You see how right it is?"

   "It feels right," Caroline said almost dreamily, through a haze of
pleasure, "It feels perfect.  I never want it to stop."

   Sam smiled, then increased his pace, moving her towards her first
orgasm. "It will go on as long as you want.  You'll see..."

   Down the hall, Joan heard the loud moans of her mother's climax even
through two closed doors.  Smiling to herself, she closed her eyes and went
to sleep.