That Damned Blessing Ch. 01
In Which One Is Saved and Two Are Lost.
Authors Introduction: This is my first foray into the magic and mind control genres, which is something I've wanted to do for quite a while now. Without revealing too much of the story in the preface, I will say that I hope to write something that is a little different from the average MC story both in how the mind control and magic affect the characters and in their reactions to it. The degree to which I succeed shall be seen, beginning with this chapter.

Also, a note to readers: while there is sex between various characters over the course of this story, only sex involving both of the main characters will be fully described -- and that doesn't start until the end of the chapter and will build gradually in later installments. If you're looking for something that gets right to the nitty gritty, look elsewhere.

That Damned Blessing, Chapter One

In Which One Is Saved and Two Are Lost

Day One

Ryan McCullen ran along the beach, following sandaled footprints in the wet sand. The prints were small, even dainty, but they marked a stride that was surprisingly long. He knew the feet that made the prints and the legs that made the stride, and he liked both very much -- but of course, what he was after was neither feet nor legs, but what was in between. And because the prints were made by a fleeing girl who was not actually trying to get away, he knew he would have it soon.

To his right the waves of the South Pacific swept in on a long arc that made up a gorgeous bay lined by green hills; out past the breakers he could see, just barely, the low shapes of four other small islands that were part of the island nation of Ranu Ratu. The country was made up of eighty-two islands, mostly tiny uninhabited rocks, dotted over four thousand square miles of ocean. He'd only ever been on Ranura, the largest island of the group, and as far as he could tell it was the only island worth visiting unless you liked looking at fishermen and jungle.

Ryan preferred looking at other things, like the girl who made these footprints.

The beach, normally pristine, was scattered with debris from the tropical storm that had struck the day before and had swatted the island with sheets of rain and gales for almost eighteen hours. At the other end of the beach from the hotel was a little collection of fishermen's huts; a hundred yards before it the footprints veered inland, up over the sand ridge that marked the edge of the beach. The ridge was topped with brush, and he knew that right over the hill was an unpaved road that ran parallel to the sea, and then past that was jungle -- or at least it looked like jungle to an eighteen-year-old kid who'd never been more than a few hundred miles from home before. In reality it was a narrow strip of thoroughly tamed forest that set off the road from a plantation of guava and papaya orchards. He crossed the road in two long strides and vaulted a rail fence. He looked left and right and then down at the ground, but his prey had seemingly vanished.

Well, she did like her games.

It wasn't even nine in the morning yet, but already the heat was turning puddles and even the damp from the ground into steam. He stepped into the shade of the trees, and while the fact that he was no longer taking tropical sun to his skin made him feel cooler, those same trees blocked the breeze so that the humidity immediately became oppressive, plastering his unbuttoned blue cotton shirt to his back with sweat.

He looked left and right again but saw nothing but trees and undergrowth. "Lexy," he called softly, playfully. "Come out, come out, wherever you are." No response came except for the sound of a distant engine from somewhere in the orchards ahead. "Lexy? I bet you're...behind this tree!"

She was not behind the tree, nor the next one, nor the next, and he was starting to get a little irritated until he heard a giggle from the road behind him. He turned and there she was: lithe and long-legged, clad in a very scanty blue bikini and a gauzy white beach shirt, her long, raven hair pulled back into a simple pony-tail, the gold stud in her left nostril glittering in the sunlight. She was looking at him over the top of a pair of Ace &Tate sunglasses that perched on the end of her pert nose, her full lips quirked in a smart-ass grin, and she stood with her hand on her insolently-cocked hip. "You really do look ridiculous, you know, investigating every tree in the forest."

He smiled, as he always did when he heard Lexy speak. She was from Spain but she spoke English impeccably, and with a posh English accent that drove him nuts. Alejandra Garza was the daughter of one of her father's coworkers on the resort project; Lexy, her mom, and her little sister were here visiting her dad, just like Ryan and his family were visiting his dad. He'd met her on the day he arrived on the island, three weeks ago; they'd fucked the day after that and every day since except when her period pains had killed her mood. Neither of them had the slightest illusion about this little romance being anything other than physical, or of it lasting past the McCullens' departure in ten days, but by God it was a lot of fun while it lasted.

"How long have you been standing there watching me make an idiot out of myself?" he asked, walking toward her.

"For the entire time you were making an idiot of yourself," she chuckled. "But you make a handsome idiot."

He put his hands on her coltish hips and grinned down at her. At six feet, two inches, he had eight inches on her, and she could comfortably tuck her head under his chin when they danced. His swimmer's build was powerful without being massive, and he could pick her up with one arm around her waist when he was of a mind. Right now, though, he was minded of something else, as he showed when he leaned in and put his lips on hers. His kiss was hungry and she returned it in kind, and in a moment their tongues were tangled and their breathing heavy, as tended to happen whenever two bundles of teenage hormones collided.

Her delicate, long-fingered hands rested lightly on his shoulders at first, but they did not stay there. She began to move them down his arms and back up, down and back, making his skin prickle in their wake. How does she do that? he wondered. The girls back in Milwaukee couldn't do that! Apparently it was true what they said about European women.

He cupped her breasts through her electric blue bikini top, feeling it fill his palm. Her boobs weren't big -- they didn't overflow his large hand -- but they were firm and perky and sweet, tipped with dark nipples that got so wonderfully hard and sensitive when he touched them like he was doing now. Lexy gave a little whimper into his mouth, a very happy sound, as he pinched her buds gently.

She was quivering against him, sliding a tanned leg between his powerful thighs and pressing her hips to his. He had already had a chubby from the moment he saw her, but the heat and pressure from her body made him spring almost violently to full staff. Lexy felt it and giggled against his lips. "That feels very hard," she whispered. "You probably ought to find someone to take care of it for you."

"I had someone in mind," he replied, squeezing her small ass. Her bikini bottoms were a g-string, so he had warm flesh in his hands.

She nibbled his lower lip and slipped a hand between his legs to cup his balls through his swimsuit. "Mmmm, then you probably ought to go find her. I should think you'd want relief straightaway."

Ryan's hand moved a bit lower. He pulled aside the string and ran two fingers along her shaved slit, already damp with arousal. The feel of her softness and slickness made his cock twitch. "She's close," he told her, bending to nibble her neck. "Very close, in fact."

"She's a lucky girl, then, whomever she is," Lexy sighed, wrapping her hand around his hardness and gently and slowly rubbing the cloth of his suit against it. "But are you certain she wants it as well?"

He slid a single finger effortlessly between her folds and inside. She was as wet as she was tight, and her muscles clamped down on the invading digit as a gasp escaped her lips. "I'm no expert, but I think she's interested."

"Then it would be a crime to keep her waiting," she said huskily as she took his hand and headed for the trees. He lifted her over the fence and then followed, pulling her just far enough into the trees that they couldn't be seen from the road. Suddenly they were tugging at each other's clothes, pushing them down or aside in their haste rather than stripping. When she pushed his trunks down to his thighs and finally wrapped her fingers around his shaft for real, she sighed, "Ahh, fourteen centimeters of joy..."

Ryan liked that. Fourteen centimeters sounded much more impressive than five-and-a-half inches. It wasn't as though he felt bad about his cock -- it was about average, and since he'd just turned eighteen a few months before, he might actually get another inch before it stopped growing. Besides, Lexy wasn't complaining, and neither had the couple of girls he'd dated back home.

Being teenagers, neither one was in the mood for waiting or foreplay. She crouched in front of him, looking up at him with those enormous brown eyes that made his heart stand still, and fished a foil wrapper from the pocket of her beach shirt. She tore it open, slipped the condom into her mouth, and then leaned in to put it on.

"Ohhh Lexy," he moaned as her lips made contact. "You sweet, dirty girl."

At the moment Lexy put her lips around Ryan's cock, a mile away in a dim hotel room, Jess McCullen was climbing off of one. It slipped out of her with a queef that made her and the man she was atop both chuckle, and a trickle of cum ran out of her body and onto his belly. She clambered off the bed, stood up next to it, and whimpered, "Damn, my thigh muscles!"

The man in the bed, her husband Paul, grinned. "Well you were giving them a real workout."

"Ugh. This was a lot easier twenty years ago," she muttered with mock irritation. "Even five years. I don't remember long muscle cramps during sex when I was forty."

"Well, it was worth it."

"For you!" she said, eyeing him with a playfully baleful expression. "All you had to do was lie there while I, the frail woman, did all the work."

"Frail my ass, you were riding me like I was a roller coaster. And last night all you had to do was lie on your back while I got the workout."

"God bless whoever invented the missionary position!" she grinned as she moved toward the shower, waddling to as not to spray evidence of their lovemaking around the room for the cleaning staff to deal with -- especially because the cleaning staff was indifferent in their interest and effectiveness. The room sometimes went a few days without a decent cleaning, and she didn't want to have to look at cum spots on the floor for half a week.

Paul joined her in the shower a few moments later. It wasn't just a romantic gesture, it was a practical one too -- the hotel was old and run down and the boilers worked intermittently, so it was wisest to share showers while the hot water lasted. He took the soap and began to wash the back he knew so intimately from two decades of marriage. After a few moments of scrubbing, he asked, "What are your plans for the day?"

"I was going to find out if the road up to the summit of the volcano was clear enough to drive after the storm," she told him, holding her ginger hair up and out of the way. "I thought maybe the kids would want to go on a little sightseeing trip."

His hands traced a practiced route across her back. "That sounds fun, if any of the bridges over the river are still there."

"Mmm, that feels nice. I'll have to do the driving, since I don't think either of the kids can handle a stick."

"Your stick-handling abilities are unparalleled."

She laughed. "Pervert."

"I'll tell them at the desk you want to reserve a jeep so they don't lend them all out." The hotel had a fleet of three jeeps for guest use; on some days, they were all gone by nine in the morning, and at other times they might go unused for a week. There was no telling. "Hey, can you do me? I have to run to the meeting in a few minutes."

They turned and she took the soap and began washing him. Paul had really held up marvelously. Oh he wasn't the strapping young man she'd fallen head over heels for in college, but he was still vigorous and fit, and if anything he was more handsome now than he had been when he was the foxy architectural engineering grad student who'd pursued and caught her. Salt-and-pepper hair suited him, and years spent on job sites had imparted a rugged masculinity to a face that had been, if anything, too pretty before.

Shaking herself from her momentary reverie, Jess asked, "Did the storm do any damage to the construction?"

"The text I got said it blew some things around and filled up the foundation with water, but we're pumping it out. We shouldn't lose more than half a day."

"Good. The sooner you finish here, the sooner we can get you back home where you belong. We need you there, you know? And no, I'm not complaining, I know this was the chance of a lifetime."

It had been, too. Back in Milwaukee, Paul had been a noted architect but not famous and definitely not wealthy. He had never lacked for work, and the hotels and resorts he had designed had been excellent, but they had also been small. Acclaim had passed him by...

And then the remote, poverty-stricken, backwards Pacific archipelago nation of Ranu Ratu had discovered that the extinct volcano that made up one of their remotest islands was filled with big, beautiful, and very valuable gemstones. Foreign companies had come pounding on their door expecting to buy the government with bribes the way they did every other Third World country, but the rulers of Ranu Ratu were smart. The deal they negotiated was making money flow into their sovereign wealth fund in torrents, and they were using it to develop their land. A new airport, hospitals, schools, electricity, water, internet, investment in locally-owned enterprises -- Ran Ratu was going to do it right.

The centerpiece of that right-doing was going to be a massive resort and casino that would take advantage of the splendid natural environment to create a first-class tourist destination. They put out a call for proposals. Every major resort architectural firm in the world had submitted their sketches -- and so had Paul McCullen, noted but very unfamous architect from Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

And to everyone's amazement, Paul's not least, Paul won.

And that was why he had left his family six months ago and come to this remote speck of land in the empty desert vastness of the Pacific Ocean. It was a make-or-break opportunity for him and he needed to stick the landing with both feet. And if he did? Well, the sky was the limit, really.

But that didn't mean it wasn't hard for his wife. Jessica -- Jess to everyone since she was a girl -- missed him with a bone-deep ache that was the first thing she felt in the morning and the last thing she felt at night. She missed the way Paul would wrap her arms around her from behind when she was picking out her clothes for the next day, the way he would sometimes show up unannounced at her office with flowers and take her to lunch, the way he could scoop all five-foot-eight of her off the floor like she weighed nothing and kiss her in a manner that took her breath away even after all these years. She missed washing his clothes, she missed eating the meals he cooked, she missed cuddling and watching Netflix at the end of a long day. She missed the sex. Christ, she even missed his snoring.

And it wasn't just her that missed him. Their daughter Kim was 21 and in college, living in her own apartment with three other girls, so she was weathering it alright. Ryan, though, was another matter. Their son had always been closer to Paul than to her, a fact that she sometimes envied but never regretted. Paul had left two months before Ryan's 18th birthday, and he had missed so much of that vital time in Ryan's life. A child only became an adult once, and Paul hadn't been there for it. And more than that, it was hard to run a house by herself, raise a son by herself, still be a significant presence in her daughter's life, work full time at a demanding job, and maintain enough social contact to avoid going crazy. Everything was easier when Paul was there.

"-- wives tonight?"

Jess was snapped out of her musings by Paul's voice. She looked up at him with a sheepish smile. "I missed that. What?"

He grinned and caressed the side of her face with the backs of his fingers. "I was wondering if you were planning to get back in time to have dinner with the other wives tonight?"

"Oh." Jess was not the only wife of a crew member to take advantage of summer to visit her husband. Eight other junior architects and engineers had brought their families out to visit them, not to mention that two of the construction engineers had simply moved their young families to Ranu Ratu for the eighteen-month duration of the construction projects. The women of those families had formed an informal clique called Der Frauen-Trinkclub -- the name was German for "Wives' Drinking Club," and had been given to the group by Erika Ritschel, the gorgeous blonde spouse of Karl, an engineer from Hamburg. In fact, the government here had cherry-picked some of the best and brightest young design and construction talent from around the world and brought them to build the hotel. Paul said it was the most exciting environment he'd ever worked in. "Yes, I guess so. I was going to take a picnic lunch to eat with the kids, but we ought to be back in plenty of time for dinner."

Paul dressed quickly. One of the benefits of this particular job site was that the dress code was quite informal. Given the tropical setting of the island, Paul (and almost everyone else) eschewed coats and ties for light, airy, summery things. Today he sported a light blue short-sleeved cotton shirt and a pair of cotton work pants, topped off with the tan safari hat that had become his trademark during his time on the island. He kissed his wife goodbye, lingering long enough to make it clear that he'd rather not go at all, and then left.

And left Jess alone with her thoughts once more, and immediately she was back in a mood She wasn't sure why she had suddenly gone all pensive -- until she caught her naked reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. She hadn't dressed when Paul had, instead focusing on getting him out the door on time. Her reflection told her all she needed to know. "Well," she said after a moment, "shit."

Who the hell was that fat, dumpy old woman looking back at her?

She stepped up to the mirror and regarded her image with a frown. What a mess. Oh, things didn't start out terribly if you began at the top. Her naturally red hair was still lustrous and vibrant, hanging straight to past her shoulders. She had never loved being a ginger. She'd been teased mercilessly as a kid and she'd had to avoid the sun her whole life. If given her druthers, she would have chosen dark brunette hair with a natural wave, but she had a ginger's complexion with the rampant freckles that went with it and dying her hair had just made her look stupid the few times she'd tried it. Still,even if it wasn't what she'd always wanted, she had to admit that what she had wasn't bad.

Her face was still alright -- clearly her best feature now, though it didn't used to be. Her cheekbones were high and wide and her chin was narrow, making a triangular face that was still mostly unlined -- unlined enough, anyway, that with the right makeup (and at her age she barely went to the bathroom without makeup) and the right light, she could pass for late 20s as long as nobody looked below the neck. She did love her large eyes, such a dark green that people often mistook them for brown unless they looked closely enough. Her nose was still sexy, and if her lips had lost much of the fullness of youth, she still liked their shape. Her neck was a little dicier, but it was still long and graceful. So far, so good.
And then came the rest, and with it the problems. She had always had an hourglass shape, with broad shoulders, chest and hips and a naturally narrow waist. But womankind had two implacable foes, time and gravity, and both of them had begun their dastardly deeds. When she was young, her boobs had been "neckbreakers" -- men would twist their heads to stare in awe as she walked by. She wore a 38F bra, and her breasts had been firm and gorgeous, with pink nipples that aimed up and out like searchlights. Time and gravity had taken their toll, and now her breasts sagged halfway to her waist and her nipples were getting lower and lower with every passing month. One of these days she was going to look in the mirror and see they were pointing straight down at her toes.

She'd always had nice arms, but they'd started going bad too. She didn't have to wear long sleeves, but she did need sleeves that covered her to the elbows. Anything less and those floppy bat wings were liable to put an eye out...which at least would mean that she didn't need to look at them anymore.

Things just got worse as she looked lower. Up until a few years ago she had never had a problem maintaining the 26-inch waist she'd had in college -- even after the kids, she'd dropped the weight and worn her old clothes. But her body's 40th birthday present to her had been persistent belly fat and a growing pot. She'd fought it tooth and nail, but she was losing. Paul's absence had made that battle harder, as the increased demands on her time and energy had meant that her six trips to the gym per week had become four, then three; nowadays she went there twice a week for yoga and cardio. So far it wasn't catastrophic -- 15 pounds, maybe -- and nothing that Spanx couldn't help with, but she had no illusions about being able to maintain that charade indefinitely.

In her college days, her hips had been 38 inches. She's gone up to 40 after the kids, and now they were 42. And that wouldn't have been so bad, because her big, sexy ass had always been one of her best features, except that cellulite was ruining the neighborhood. Her butt was now dimpled with it, and the problem only got worse on the Federal Cottage Cheese Depository that was her thighs. Her legs were still long, but now they had to be covered instead of revealed. Her calves were still good, at least, which meant she could wear sundresses and not frighten small children. Hooray for that..

And it wasn't even that Jessica McCullen was overly concerned with her looks most of the time. She had been beautiful and she had enjoyed being beautiful, enjoyed the attention it earned her and the little daily privileges that beauty conferred, but she wasn't conceited. She had always tried to look her best, but she had also always dressed fairly conservatively. She liked being looked at -- who didn't? -- but once she was with Paul, before and after their marriage, she had always cared most about being looked at by him. She had always tried to look her best for him, just as he had tried to look his best for her. And now he was getting better-looking and she was getting worse.

Well, her mother had always told her that age made men look distinguished and women look old. And wasn't it the truth, though? Paul was a gorgeous hunk spending every day surrounded by stunning brown-skinned Polynesian women in a tropical paradise, while her moon-white, freckled ass was five years away from being a Superfund site. Where was the justice in that?

Maybe it was time to start thinking about surgery. Breast lift, tummy tuck, maybe some cellulite reduction procedures. It was no crime. Lots of women did them.

Especially aging women who had beautiful, successful husbands to keep.

She frowned. She was being unfair to Paul. He had never once given any indication that he was dissatisfied with her appearance, and there was no evidence at all that he was even considering cheating on her, much less actually doing anything. But a wife worried. She had to. She had seen too many wives of a certain age blindsided by divorce, being dumped for a younger woman barely older than her kids. Not that Paul ever would...

No. Of course not.

With a last frown at the mirror, she turned to get dressed.

A little less than an hour later, Ryan stepped out of the shower in his room, The hot water was on the fritz again so he'd showered cold. He didn't really mind -- since he was barely old enough to walk, he had been almost impossible to keep out of any body of water deep enough to wet him all the way, and in Wisconsin that meant he was in cold water a lot of the time. He'd gotten used to it, even happily swimming in Lakes Michigan and Superior when he had the chance. All the hard work had paid off in a Boy's 100 Yard Freestyle gold medal at the state championships last year, possibly the proudest moment of his life. It would have been better if his dad had been there to see it, of course, but he understood how things were. He'd had a satellite phone call from Paul when he'd won, offering enthusiastic congratulations. It was just that it would have been better if it had been a big hug.

Well hey, it could be worse. If his dad wasn't working out here, the family never would have come to visit this Pacific paradise. He'd be home at swim camp or some damned thing, seeing the same old people and doing the same old things. At least here he was making memories.

He dried his short dark hair vigorously, humming something that became a mashup of Drake's Back to Back and Big Sean's Control. He toweled himself off quickly, draped the cloth around his neck, and stepped out into his bedroom --

To see his sister Kim sitting on his bed with a smart-ass grin on her face and an oversized beach tee covering her body down to her bare mid-thigh.

"SHIT!" he yelped, leaping back into the bathroom. "Don't you fucking knock?"

"Don't you lock your door?" she countered.

"I thought I did! The lock sticks."

"Right. Soooo...is it always that small?"

"Oh shut up," he said miserably. He was never going to hear the end of this. "I just took a cold shower."

"What's the matter? That Spanish tween you've been screwing stand you up?"

"Tween? She's 18 years old! Why are you even in my room?"

"No she's not!" Kim scoffed. "She's like 13 years old, tops."

"She's two months older than I am."

"You sure?"

"Yes! Now leave."

"She looks 13."

"Oh for Chrissakes, she does not. She has boobs."

"She's 18 and she has those boobs? I had bigger boobs than that when I was 13."

"You were a bigger boob than that when you were 13. If you're not gonna leave, at least hand me the clothes on the chair."

Kim stood, took the clothes, and handed them around the corner of the bathroom where her little brother was cowering. "Been out to see the storm damage? That cabana bar down by the beach got blown away."

"I went the other way," Ryan told her, pulling on his underwear and shorts. "There's all kinds of crap up on the beach, trees and stuff. A rowboat."

"Well thank God the storm is over so I can get back to getting a kickass tropical tan." .At 21, Kim's body much resembled her mom's body at that age, though slightly less cantilevered, and she had her father's dark hair and complexion so she could actually tan. Among admittedly slim competition, she had the best body on the beach in Ranu Ratu and she knew it. Yesterday when the storm was raging had been the first day since their arrival that she hadn't been out styling one of the many, many small swimsuits she'd brought. And lo, how the men did mourn.

Ryan emerged from the bathroom wearing shorts and pulling a white #12 Packer's tee shirt down over his torso. "When we get back home, you're going to be brown and shriveled."

"Yeah, speaking of shriveled," she said dryly.

"COLD. SHOWER."

She snickered, then added, "I gotta say though, Mr. Shrinkage aside, that little Spanish girl is lucky. You have a slammin' bod."

He plugged his ears with his fingers and shut his eyes tight. "LALALALALA I do not want to hear my sister tell me I have a slamming body!"

She hit him in the stomach with a pillow. "Don't make it weird. Swimmers all have great bodies. You going to hang out with your senorita today?"

"Probably." Until the resort was finished a year from now, there was little to do here but tan, swim, eat, drink, and fuck, and damned few people to do it with.

Kim attracted a hell of a lot of attention, but everyone knew she was Paul McCullen's daughter and therefore off limits...though she had gotten together a couple of times with a hot Aussie bulldozer driver named Jerry, a fact that Ryan knew but Paul did not. Still, she was more interested in tanning and swimming than in dick this trip, so she was mostly content being an object of comedically plentiful unrequited lust.

She was just about to tease him again about his "tween girlfriend" when there was a knock on the door and Jess's voice called, "Ryan? Are you in there?"

"Yeah mom, come on in," he called. "Door's open. Apparently."

Jess stepped into the room. She had put on a pale green sundress that looked great with her red hair and topped it with a shawl, and she was carrying her enormous floppy sun hat. Her first day here she had mistaken the tropical sun for what she was used to back home, and her ginger's pale complexion had left her with a sunburn that had incapacitated her for two days until it peeled off and left her spitefully fish-belly white again. She did not plan to make that mistake a second time. "Oh, you're here too, Kim. Good."

"Hey mom," Kim said. "What's up?"

"Well I have a good idea!" Jess said. "How about we get in a jeep and drive up to the summit of the volcano? We can have a picnic lunch and have a great view!"

That actually sounded more interesting to Ryan than another day on the beach, so he nodded. "I'm in. Can I bring Lexy?"

To her credit, Jess did not frown at the mention of the girl her son had been spending so much time poking. She didn't mind Lexy really, most of the time; today, though, she'd hoped for a family outing. Her eyes were unhappy when she said, "Certainly, that would be fine."

Ryan knew his mom's expressions well enough to pick up on the vibe. "Actually, um, now that I think about it, I think she mentioned doing something with her mom today."

"Like what?" Kim asked, enjoying making her little brother twist in the wind a bit.

"You know, I didn't ask."

"Oh, well that's fine too," Jess said brightly. "Kim, what do you think?"

"You know...I think I'll pass," Kim said. "I wanted to hit the beach today."

"Oh come on, honey," Jess cajoled. "You've been on the beach every day that we've been here."

"Not today," Kim corrected. "Or yesterday, for that matter. My tan is already fading. And we only have another week and a half here."

Now Jessica did not hide her disappointment. "But don't you want to go to the top of a volcano?"

"Technically it's been an extinct volcano for like half a million years," Kim observed. "So really it's just a hill. And it's not even a huge hill. We have hills back in Sconny, but we don't have the ocean."

Jess sighed in exasperation. "Ryan, talk some sense into your sister."

"Smarter men than me have tried and failed," he said, holding up his hands in a warding gesture. "That's a volcano I can't climb."

Jess exhaled. "Are you sure you won't change your mind?"

"Positive. Besides, the bar got wrecked, so maybe that cute bartender will be giving away storm-damaged stock."

"Dream big, Kim," Ryan said. "Anyway, mom, you've got me. I'll be your consolation prize."

"You're not a consolation prize, sweetie," Jess assured her son with a bright smile. "Come on, we'll have fun without your bummer of a sister."

"Bummer?" Kim asked, wrinkling her nose. "That's a fine thing to call your daughter."

Jess turned her sweet smile to Kim and said, "I wouldn't have called you that if you hadn't passed up a trip to a volcano to lie on a beach like a total load."

"Worst. Mother. Ever," Kim moaned, and then hugged Jess. "You have a great trip. Try to keep dumbo from falling in the lava."

"There's no lava," Ryan reminded her. "The volcano's been extinct for half a million years."

"You'll find a way," Kim said with a grin. She leaned in and whispered into his ear, "I'll find Lexy and tell her you won't be around this afternoon."

Ryan smiled and squeezed his sister's hand, then said to his mother, "Well, I'm ready. Let's get out of here."

Twenty minutes later, Jess and Ryan drove out of the small capital town in a rented jeep, Jess behind the wheel and Ryan watching the scenery. In the back was a hamper with a small roasted chicken, potato salad, a salad made of fruits grown on the island plantation, and bottles of Beloka sparkling water. It was a typically gorgeous day, with the sun high and dazzling and the deep blue sky dotted with cottony clouds. There was obviously some storm damage, but for the most part the island seemed to have come through alright. They crossed several streams that normally were calf-deep trickles but today were swollen almost out of their banks with runoff from the previous day's downpour, heading across the coastal plain toward the low volcanic cone that loomed ahead.

There wasn't much chatting in the jeep, which was fine with both of them. Ryan and Jessica got along as well as could be expected, but they spent so much time together that they had already made most of the idle chatter they could make long before they came to the island. Sometimes one or the other would make a comment and they would talk for a minute or so, but soon enough the comfortable silence returned.

The ground began to rise as the mountain approached, gradually at first but quickly getting steeper, and shortly thereafter they topped a rise and came in view of the Nawoka River. They had crossed it once before a week after they'd gotten to the island, and then it had been little more than a glorified stream that gathered the runoff of the daily rain showers from the mountain and sent it to the sea. Today though it was a whitewater torrent. A quarter of a mile up, a slight bend in the river had corralled much of the debris from upstream, but there was still a pileup against the bridge. As they watched, a crew of workers on the other side hauled a log away from a piling and up onto the bank with a tow truck.

Jess eased down the dirt road to the river. The workers -- natives all -- waved at her cheerfully. She called, "Is the bridge safe?"

"Yes it is, ma'am," one of them called back. The English spoken on Ranu Ratu was Australian-accented, as it had originally been taught in mission schools by Australian nuns. "No problem at all."

Looking up toward the mountain, she saw there was a dirt road on each side of the river. "Which road goes to the top?"

"The one on the right," the worker answered. "The bridges upstream are washed out, so you need to come back down here if you want to cross."

With thanks and a wave, Jessica drove across the bridge, turned, and began to ascend the mountain. Within a couple of minutes the road had become steep enough and was muddy enough that the four-wheel drive was engaged, and shortly after that they hit their first switchback.

"It's steeper than it looks from far away," Ryan offered. "It's a real mountain, not a hill."

Jessica nodded. "Everything is so lush and verdant too. It's a real jungle up here."

"Yeah, it's crazy to imagine that this whole thing is basically lava and ash. Half a million years ago, this was erupting --"

A brightly-colored tropical bird swooped over them, missing the windshield by a couple of feet. Jessica jammed on the brakes, then grinned self-consciously. "Sorry. That was the yellowest thing I've ever seen."

They shared a laugh and then drove on, passing through a small village of ramshackle wooden buildings. The people there were friendly, and a child stopped their car to give them a large papaya and to point out that the bridge that normally crossed there was gone. They thanked her and drove on.

A few minutes later they reached a small plateau, a table of land that couldn't even be seen from below. They parked, got out, and took pictures and video of the gorgeous vista the ledge provided, with the steep mountain leading down to the broad, peopled plain, and then beyond that the blue ocean swept by lines of breakers and dotted with islets.

"So," Jess asked after a couple of minutes, "was this worth the trip?"

"Definitely!" Ryan said, turning his phone camera on her. "And we aren't even at the top yet. Tell Kim what she's missing by washing up on the beach like a dead seal."

"Oh no, I don't want to rub it in," Jess said demurely. "She'll feel bad enough when she sees the video and realizes she skipped the best thing on the island!"

Ryan turned the camera to face himself and added cheerfully, "Hear that, Kim? Mom doesn't want to tell you you're a dummy. I, on the other hand, have no problem with it...dummy."

Jessica covered her mouth to hide her smirk -- a mother shouldn't laugh when one of her children mocks another, even if the other passed up a trip to a volcano to lie on a beach again -- and they were back on the road a couple of minutes later.

They spotted the crowd first. Forty or so natives of all ages were clustered on the opposite bank of the river, and a second glance showed they were in distress, frantically waving their arms and shouting words that couldn't be heard over the roar of the stream in flood.

"What's that about?" Jess asked with a frown, slowing the jeep to a crawl.

"I dunno," Ryan said. "They look pretty upset though."

"They do. Are they pointing at the river?"

"Why would they point at -- SHIT! STOP THE CAR!" Ryan's cry was so fierce and so sudden that she slammed the brakes hard before she even knew her foot was moving, and the jeep was still rocking when Ryan hurled himself out the door and took off toward the river at a sprint. For a moment Jessica couldn't see what the problem was --

And then she did see. A small child was in the river, clinging to a fallen tree with nothing but a red shirt, a single brown arm, and a terrified little face poking above the whitewater. The perch the child was clinging to looked like it would be swept away at any instant.

Ryan never hesitated. His shirt and shoes hit the bank an instant before he plunged into the water and he struck out fearlessly, powerful strokes carrying him through the swirling eddies and past rocks and debris that had lodged there, swimming less like a man than a creature born to the water.

After an awestruck instant, Jessica felt a stab of cold terror for her son -- this was killing water, the kind people drowned in. It was a raging flood on the side of a mountain and Ryan was taking his life into his hands and --

And then she was moving too, running to the front of the jeep where the tow cable lay on its coil. The cable was thin and light, but strong enough to drag a medium-sized tree out of a road -- and certainly strong enough to drag two people out of a river. Her son could reach that child, but he was going to need help to get both of them out of the water alive.

In a short span of rapid heartbeats Ryan was there. At the last instant an eddy sucked him under and threatened to dash him against the log that the child clung to, but he threw out an arm to ward the blow and somehow -- he never knew how -- wound up clutching the tree trunk. He looked to his left and saw the face of the child -- a boy, he thought -- wide-eyed in fear and staring at him. The current was still threatening to pull him under and sweep him away, but he took a moment to solidify his hold and then began working his way toward the boy, hand over hand, fighting with everything he had to stay above water and hold on.
Jess played out a length of cable, her arms moving in a blur, and when she had enough to start with she sprinted toward the water. She could see that Ryan was going to get to the boy, but... "Hold on, baby," she said through gritted teeth.

The kid panicked. As Ryan's outstretched hand got within a foot of him, he let go and grabbed for his would-be rescuer -- and just like that he was sucked under water. Without thinking, because thinking would have been fatal, Ryan let go and followed, hands clutching, grasping at swirling, frothing water.

On shore, Jessica stopped dead, hands on the side of her head, howled in utter despair, and cut herself off an instant later when Ryan emerged, head above water, the child in one arm and the other holding onto a whorl in the tree trunk. Like her son, she acted without conscious thought as she sprinted forward, whirling the end of the cable over her head like a cowboy whirls a lasso, and casting it toward the two struggling figures.

Ryan saw the cable coming and saw it splash short on the wrong side of the fallen log. There was no way he could reach it. The boy was screaming in terror -- he could hear it now that the child's mouth was next to his ear -- and squirming, trying to grab any piece of Ryan he could get. Ryan tightened his grasp on the child, but he felt his other hand slipping on the wet wood. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on --

And then Jess threw again and the end of the cable landed four feet away, the hook on the end bouncing in the current. Fucking A mom, nice throw! he thought as he fought against water to pull himself closer. A few inches, another adjustment of his handhold, ignoring that the kid in his arms just kicked him right in the balls in his terror -- and then suddenly his hand closed around the cable.

On the bank, Jessica leaped up like a cheerleader, kicking her legs and pumping her fist, then sprinted back to the car.

Ryan felt the cable begin to pull as the winch kicked into gear. He held on with the last of his strength as he was lifted up and over the log and pulled through thirty feet of water so white and fierce that he honestly had no idea how he'd safely traversed it in the first place. His feet found the bottom but still he let the cable guide him for another twenty feet until, aching and chilled to the bone, he carried the screaming child onto dry land.

Jessica was there in an instant, arms around him, tears on her face as she hugged her boy. "That was crazy, baby, you could have died!"

Ryan said nothing. He just handed her the child and dropped onto his butt on the ground.

She did her best to calm the boy. Her words meant nothing to him but her tone was one of universal motherly comfort, and after a couple of minutes she had subdued him from shrieks of terror to sobs of emotional release. By then Ryan was back on his feet. "Holy fuck," he panted, "that was nuts."

Paul and Jessica discouraged that kind of language from their children, but he had earned the right to say whatever he fucking well felt like so she let it go. "Are you OK?" she asked him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He was a little scraped and dinged from being knocked around, but it was nothing that would slow him down. He looked across the river to where the people were standing; they now seemed to be quite happy, which was understandable. He spotted some buildings peeking out from trees upstream, as well as the ruins of a small bridge. "I guess this little guy fell in and got swept over here," he mused. "With the bridge out, they couldn't get across to save him. Anyone going in the river from that side would be as good as dead."

They spent the next couple of minutes sharing gestures across the water -- the roar of the river made it impossible to be heard -- and at last they made it clear that they would take the child back down the mountain, cross on the one remaining bridge, and come back up the other side to deliver the boy to his very relieved parents.

Jessica was careful on the drive down; she had already witnessed one near-calamity today and she had no desire to make it two. The little boy, who would say nothing at all in any language, clung to Ryan like a baby monkey to a wire mother for the whole way down and then the whole way back up; for his part, Ryan just hugged the scared little guy.

Unlike earlier, neither Ryan nor his mother were quiet as they made their way to the village. Adrenaline had revved them both up, and as it died it made both of them chattery. They went over and over the events, each showering praise on the other for bravery, for calmness, for quick thinking. About halfway to the village it began to sink in for Ryan that both he and the child he held had been on the knife-edge of death -- a single false move, a finger placed wrong, an unseen piece of debris hitting him below the water, anything, and both of them would have been knocked off their handhold and drowned or been battered to death as the torrent swept down the mountainside. Funny, but it was only fifteen minutes after he got out of the water that he got scared.

The shakes passed before they arrived. It was about half an hour before they pulled into the collection of run-down wooden houses that was the child's home. The whole village was outside to meet them, and the inhabitants had shifted out of their ordinary clothes into what must have constituted the local equivalent of Sunday best. The group of villagers was fronted by an impressively dignified elderly man and a woman of great age who appeared less dignified only because she was very bent and leaning on a cane. Before the head of the welcoming committee could speak, however, a young woman broke from the group and raced to the jeep. The boy, upon seeing her, leaped from Ryan's arms and threw himself at the young woman; mother and son were joined by a man and a couple of children pretty close to the rescued boy's age, and the hugging was ferocious all around. Ryan and Jessica watched with enormous smiles.

The old man stepped forward and spoke excellent English with an Australian accent. "Welcome to Paranku village. My name is Adouwe. We thank you for what you have done today."

Jessica and Ryan climbed out of the jeep, with Ryan saying, "It was my pleasure, Mr. Adouwe. We couldn't let the little guy come to any harm."

"What's his name?" Jess asked.

"That is Aneri, my great-grandson," Adouwe said with obvious pride. "His father is Manu and his mother is Noelani."

"My name is Ryan McCullen," Ryan said. He was just about to introduce his mother when she said, "And I'm Jessica McCullen"

The old man seemed obscurely pleased by the introduction, and a happy murmur passed through the small crowd. "Good," Adouwe said. "Good! We are very blessed this day to make your acquaintance. We are preparing a feast in your honor. Will you stay and eat with us?"

Ryan almost said no such thanks was necessary, but Jessica stepped in. If someone had just saved her baby the way that they had saved Aneri, she would damned well have wanted to feed them until they exploded. "We'd be delighted and very, very honored, Mr. Adouwe Thank you."

"Yes, definitely," Ryan nodded. He caught on quickly.

At the news, people scattered to their various homes to begin preparations, leaving only Adouwe and the old woman with them.

After everything that had happened, what Jessica did next was wholly understandable. She stepped up to Ryan, put her arms around him, and pulled him into an enormous hug, pausing only to put an adoring kiss on his cheek. "You were amazing, you know that?"

Ryan blushed and smiled. "Thank you. You were pretty quick-thinking yourself."

Adouwe watched the pride and the love between the two, and he seemed to make up his mind on something. He leaned over and spoke to the woman in Ranuan, the native language; their conversation was brief and punctuated by looks and gestures at Ryan and Jess, and the old woman seemed slightly dubious about something but allowed herself to be convinced in the end. Finally Adouwe said, "We want to thank you with more than just a meal. What you have done for us cannot be repaid, and our village is poor. We can't give you money, but we can give you something else, if you're willing."

Once more Ryan was on the point of refusing, but Jessica knew better; if the places were reversed, a refusal would feel like an insult. "We'd be very happy, yes. Thank you."

"What is it?" Ryan inquired. "Or is it rude to ask? I'm sorry if it is."

"No, it's not rude," Adouwe laughed merrily. "It's a ceremony, a blessing. It's the greatest blessing we can give you. It's one that hasn't been done for many, many years, but you've earned it if anyone has."

Neither Jess nor Ryan was very surprised. The people here seemed very religious with a unique mixture of Catholicism from the nuns and their persistent native beliefs, so it wasn't surprising that a blessing would be offered for saving one of their children. The McCullens weren't religious folk -- Paul and Ryan were atheists, while Jess considered herself agnostic; Kim was the most religious of the bunch, and even she was sort of vaguely "spiritual." Still, they had religious friends and had attended plenty of weddings and funerals, and they knew that sometimes you just shut up and went with it to please people. "We'd be honored," Jess told him.

Adouwe did seem pleased -- his smile became huge and he said, "Good! Good! It will take some time to prepare the ritual -- not long, perhaps an hour or so. Come, come into my house and rest."

"Will we need to do anything in the ritual?" Ryan asked, following along behind the old couple. "Because we don't speak your language."

"Oh no, nothing at all except sitting and breathing," the elder said, climbing the three steps to his door and opening it for them. Like a lot of village houses, Adouwe's residence was raised a few feet off the ground on short stilts to let water pass beneath -- like many tropical islands, it rained every day here in brief but very intense downbursts, and the houses were lifted up to let water pass beneath them rather than through them. "We will do all the work. Still, it may be a rather...hmmm, what is the word...intense experience for you."

Jess arched an eyebrow as she sat in a plain wooden chair in what seemed to be a living room of sorts. "In what way?" she asked. "Will we need to...dance, or..."

"No, no dancing, you'll just sit," he assured them. "But some of these rituals can be very strenuous even simply to sit and watch. I can't say for sure with this one, I've never even seen it done."

"Oh, why's that?" Ryan asked.

"Because it hasn't been possible to perform the ceremony since before I was born," Adouwe said. "It requires the use of two flowers freshly picked from different plants, and each of them can go years or decades without ever blossoming at all. Unless both plants are blossoming at the same time, the ritual can't be done. This is the first year in my lifetime that that's been the case. In fact, the second of the plants only started blooming three days ago. We wondered what it meant, who was to receive the blessing, but I think the gods have made it obvious that you two are the worthy ones. You're the first outsiders ever to receive it."

"It sounds like a tremendous honor," Jessica said truthfully. The blessing might just be a quaint native superstition to her, but it was obvious that being so rare made it of great import to their hosts. It was thrilling in a way -- they would probably be the first non-natives even to witness this ceremony.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go gather the materials," Adouwe said. "My daughters will be along shortly to see if you need anything." He made to leave the building, then stopped and asked, "Oh, there is one thing. Where are you from?"

"You mean what city?" Ryan asked. "Milwaukee."

That seemed to catch Adouwe short, but he mostly concealed his frown. "Meewakay?"

"Milwaukee."

"Meeahwakay..."

"That's close enough," Ryan assured him with a grin.

"No, it is vital I get it right," Adouwe told them. "Say it again, please."

Ryan nodded. "Milwaukee."

"Meelwaukee."

"Milwaukee."

"Meewauklee."

"Milwaukee."

"Mihilwaukee."

"Better. Milwaukee."

"Milwaukee."

"Yes, that's it!" Jess said happily. "Milwaukee."

"Milwaukee," Adouwe murmured, rolling the word in his mouth as if savoring the flavor. "Milwaukee. Milwaukee..." He left the building muttering the word over and over.

The old woman -- they still didn't know her name -- stayed behind. She stared back and forth between them and then settled her eyes on Jessica. Slowly she stumped forward on her cane until she was only a couple of feet away, then she leaned in and peered closely at Jess' face. Jessica had no idea what to do -- was this normal? Was the old lady being rude? Was it a gesture of respect? The woman was rather intimidating for all her great age, and Jess found herself shooting worried glances across the room to where her son was sitting and smirking at her discomfort, the brat. She was just about to say something when the old woman apparently satisfied herself of something -- or dissatisfied herself, if her expression was any judge -- then turned and clumped vigorously from the hut.

"That was...weird..." Jess said after a bit.

"Very," Ryan agreed. "What was she looking at?"

"My eyes, I think. I don't know."

"Maybe she doesn't like green eyes?"

"They look brown in this light anyway."

"Oh. Maybe she thinks you're trying to steal her son."

Jess snorted. "You think she's his mother? I thought they were married."

"She looks twenty years older to me," he mused. "Or maybe it's the red hair. That can't be common around here."

"Maybe. We gingers have it rough everywhere."

"Whine, whine, whine," he chuckled, and she stuck out her tongue at him.

It was then that the door opened and a pair of middle-aged women entered, one with a large orange plastic bowl of flower-strewn water and the other with two folded, rather threadbare towels and a small stack of washcloths. The items were placed on the floor between Ryan and Jess, and one of the women said in barely intelligible English, "Hello sirs. We make ready for pilaliuta."

"Pilaliuta?" Ryan asked, baffled.

"They must mean the ceremony, dear," Jess said. "Alright, what do we do?"

As it turned out, verbal communications were impossible. One of the women seemed to know a few dozen words of English, none of them particularly useful, while the other seemed to speak none at all. Mime was a universal language, however, and with gestures they made it clear that they had come to wash Jess and Ryan's hands and feet. They set about their business with efficiency and, it quickly became clear, a specific pattern in mind. Each hand and arm was washed up to the elbow, and each foot and calf was washed to the knee, and each limb was washed with exactly nine strokes of the cloth on each of front, back, and both sides. The women kept up a lovely, lilting chant as they worked, and they seemed delighted with their task.

"This is...unusual," Ryan murmured about halfway through.

"It's like a spa day!" Jess enthused. "These ladies could make a lot of money at the casino spa when it opens, their hands are wonderful."

"It does feel nice," Ryan admitted. "I'm just not used to being...abluted like this."

"Abluted!" Jess giggled. "Good Scrabble word."

The women finished their task and left, and no sooner were they gone than two younger women showed up, each bearing a dish of fruit slices -- it was hard to tell exactly which fruit, but it was either oranges or one of the several fruits that look and taste almost like them.

"So this is what a spa is like, huh?" Ryan asked as he nibbled a slice.

"Usually there's more mud and cucumber slices, but yeah, mostly like this."

"Huh. Well, I guess I can see why you'd like it."

"Oooh! We can go to a spa together when we get home!" Jess said happily. "Just us girls!"

For that, Jess was pelted with an orange slice.

They were smelling delicious cooking by the time Adouwe returned with a small sack and a triumphant smile. He opened the door and bustled through to the back room, nearly beside himself with excitement as he called, "My friends, another few minutes only."

A minute later the door opened again and the old woman reappeared. Once more she stumped to Jess, peered at her closely, and made a sound of disgust before turning away and pursuing Adouwe No sooner had she gotten to the back room when Ryan and Jess heard the two old people arguing; although they didn't understand a word, it had the sound of a disagreement continued rather than one just begun.

"What is her problem?" Ryan hissed.

Jess nibbled her lower lip, then said, "This ceremony, this blessing, is a once in a lifetime event for these people. It's obviously got tremendous cultural significance. She probably doesn't like the idea of it being given to foreigners."

"Then why isn't she just as mad at me? She seems to be focusing on you."

"Well...you went in the water to save Aneri. You're the hero, I just helped."

"That's garbage. If you hadn't used the jeep to haul us out of there, we both would have drowned. You saved me and the boy."

"Maybe she doesn't see it that way. Or maybe this blessing is usually only given to men."

"Maybe. It seems personal, though."

They didn't have time to continue with their discussion, though, because from outside there came the sound of dozens of voices singing together. Jess and Ryan exchanged looks, then stood and went to the window. Outside, in the little crossroad that passed for the town square, the whole population had gathered and were singing them a serenade, or, given that a religious event was about to be held, perhaps a hymn.

"It's beautiful," Jess said softly, taking her son's hand and giving it a squeeze. "I wonder what it means?"

"It's time," came Adouwe's voice from behind them. Turning, they saw the old man smiling at them, and particularly at their clasped hands. He held a wooden bowl in both hands. "Um...Ryan McCullen? And Jessica McCullen? Am I saying your names right?"

This again. Ryan grinned and nodded. "Exactly right."

"Milwaukee?"

"Milwaukee."

Adouwe beamed. "Come, follow me."

He led them out of the house and into the square. The people formed a semi-circle around them, and Adouwe's daughters set out a pair of stools and gestured for Jess and Ryan to sit. Ryan hadn't been all that thrilled with the idea of the blessing to begin with. It wasn't that he was opposed, but he hadn't understood the point. Now that it was here, the palpable excitement of the little crowd, the sense of anticipation, the joy, the eagerness, it all began to get to him. He discovered to his surprise that he had a few butterflies in his stomach.

Jessica simply sat and beamed. She couldn't have been more delighted.

Adouwe began the ceremony straightaway. He faced the pair, back to the natives, held the bowl aloft, and began to chant. The McCullen's made out only a few words -- "Ryan McCullen blah blah Milwaukee blah blah Jessica McCullen blah blah Milwaukee blah blah Milwaukee blah Milwaukee..." It was like Milwaukee was being thanked more than they were, but at least that explained why Adouwe insisted on learning the pronunciation so precisely.

How odd, Jessica thought as she listened. I can't understand a word, but I feel like I know what he's going to say next...

This went on for only a few minutes, and then there was a few minutes of call-and-response, with him shouting different phrases and the crowd shouting back with a formula that was partially the shouted phrase and partially something that stayed the same each time.
It must have been the energy of the crowd, the fervency of religious belief, that was making Ryan's and Jess' skin prickle. They found that their eyes were riveted onto Adouwe's face, and they rocked back and forth on their stools in time with the chanting. Whatever the words were, they had a preacher's force and diction, and the pair found themselves holding their breath for each new phrase that was called and responded to. It all seemed so very portentious.

It was around then that they saw the old woman lurking malevolently at the back of the crowd, not taking part in the chanting and fixing the McCullen's with a baleful stare. I won't be sad to get away from her, Jessica thought. She's scary and she hates me for some reason.

Adouwe took no notice of the woman. He called out and Aneri stepped forward carrying a long, twisted taper of dried reeds that was almost as long as he was; the end was smoldering and giving off thin gray smoke. Adouwe turned and held the bowl down for the boy and Aneri touched the flame to the contents of the bowl. In a few moments the bowl was emitting smoke too. The old man turned and held the bowl down in front of Ryan. With a smile, he said, "Breathe deep, Ryan McCullen."

Ryan looked rather dubiously at the contents of the bowl. It seemed to be mostly dried tinder with small bundles of herbs and sprinkled with pieces of two flowers, one bright blue and one a rather sickly orange-yellow. Trying not to think of the many, many movies where this kind of thing went horribly wrong, Ryan breathed in the smoke, and...it wasn't awful. He'd certainly smelled incense that was worse. This was similar to a campfire but a little peppery, with something reminiscent of cinnamon. Suddenly there was a swirl in his head, a rush of sensations that were not quite images, not quite ideas, and Ryan had the distinct sense of his mind being momentarily rearranged, kind of like when he took a hit of really good weed -- and then it was gone and he was himself again.

He was just glad he didn't embarrass himself by coughing.

Adouwe beamed and turned. "Breathe deep, Jessica McCullen."

Jess didn't hesitate. She inhaled for a long time, an enormous smile on her face. The same swirl took her, held her, and the sensation lingered for longer than it had with her son -- she felt it flow through her body like a mild electrical current, setting her to tingle all the way down her arms to her fingertips, all the way down her legs to her toes, deep in the pit of her stomach, setting a warm glow in her womb. It was heady, dizzying, a bit frightening -- and then it disappeared and she felt as she had before.

Adouwe looked positively triumphant. He held the bowl up as high as he could reach, said a few more words, and then crouched and turned the bowl over, grinding the contents into the mud until the smoke was extinguished. The crowd sent up a cry of delight -- all except the old woman.

Adouwe handed the bowl to one of his daughters and turned back to Ryan and Jess. "The blessing is finished. Congratulations."

"Oh, it was lovely!" Jessica said, clapping her hands together in glee. "I never thought I would experience anything like that!"

"Yeah, it was cool," Ryan said -- and it had been, surprisingly, one of the few actual spiritual experiences of his life. "So now that it's over, can I ask what it was all about?"

Adouwe beamed. "Why, it was a fertility blessing. You, Ryan and Jessica, shall grow together as no other man and woman could. Your love shall deepen and never fade, your lust for each other shall burn like the sun, your children shall be many and strong --"

Ryan tried to keep a straight face and failed disastrously. He barked a laugh and said, "She's not my wife, she's my mom."

Adouwe said, "As the years pass, you shall be part of each other, your family shall be unshakable in the face of -- sorry, what?"

"Ryan is my son," Jessica said, keeping her composure rather more successfully. "We're not a couple."

A gasp rose from several throats in the crowd, the English-speaking ones.

Adouwe blinked, paused, blinked again, and then said, "Are...um...oh. Are...are you sure?"

Now Jess did smile. "Oh yes, I remember it very clearly."

Adouwe's brow furrowed and he threw a look over his shoulder at the old woman hovering like a vulture nearby. "You...are...mother and son. Um..."

"But it was a lovely thought, and a beautiful ceremony!" Jessica hastened to add..

"Oh...yeah...no. Yeah. It's great you liked it. Great." The old man looked like he might faint. "No, that's...wonderful. You're positive you're not married, then? Or, you know, boyfriend and girlfriend who just happen to have the same surname? Anything like that?"

"I'm pretty sure, yeah," Ryan said, beginning to feel acutely uncomfortable in the way one always gets when a decent person makes an utter ass of himself. "I mean, I probably would have remembered that."

The crowd was whispering now, and suddenly the old woman burst through the group and pointed her cane at Adouwe. Neither Ryan nor Jessica knew what she was saying, but she was obviously not pleased.

Adouwe ignored her. "It was just with the last names being the same, and the way you look together, you know, kissing, holding hands, I thought...well. Hrrm."

The old woman got more strident. Adouwe ignored her some more.

"Don't worry," Jess assured him, rising to put a hand on his arm. "It was really a huge honor to be part of this ceremony. I know how much it means to your people."

Ryan's brief feeling of spiritual connectedness had been replaced by the thought, And this is why I'm not religious. Still, who cared? The only harm done was to Adouwe's pride. "It's alright, man. Really."

"And honestly I'm flattered that you thought I was young enough to be Ryan's wife!" Jessica laughed. "That's the nicest compliment I've had in months."

"Yeah, no, yeah, no, that's...great," Adouwe nodded, looking more and more unsteady with each passing moment. "That's great. Really. It's just...it's great. Great!"

The old woman jabbed him between the shoulder blades with her cane and he finally turned to face her. She immediately launched into a tirade that the McCullen's didn't catch a word of, but which had the obvious air of I fucking told you so.

There were a few moments of milling about, with everyone seemingly whispering to everyone else. Ryan exchanged a look with his mother and they both broke into uncomfortable giggles, which they rapidly suppressed. This was obviously a very big deal to these nice people, so it wouldn't do to laugh at their discomfort.

The people were now looking acutely uncomfortable. Their earlier smiles had now vanished and they seemed reluctant to meet the eyes of the McCullens. As the old people's arguments escalated, the villagers began easing away and sidling toward their homes. After about a minute though, a young man stepped forward and said in excellent Australian English, "Sorry about this, mates. Just a bit of a...cock-up."

"Oh, it's no problem," Jessica assured the man. "Really, it was a thrilling thing to be a part of. Thank you."

"Oh, yeah, you know, we wanted to thank you," the man said, smiling uneasily. "You know, for everything you did. You know. Saving a child's life and all. Bloody good on you."

"It was...um...." Ryan stammered, distracted now by the spittle-laced invective the old woman was pouring onto Adouwe "I mean, I had to. Anybody would have. I was just in the right place at the right time."

"Well, still, we owed you, but...well, I think the feast is off," the man said. "Ahhh...sorry it didn't work out. You know, any of it. At all."

Adouwe and the old woman were shouting at each other now, a standoff only cut short when she clobbered him over the head with her cane with sound like a baseball bat hitting a honeydew. Adouwe squawked and covered his head so that the second blow landed on his hands. With that he yelped in dismay and turned tail, the old woman pursuing with an agility that suggested that she might not need the cane after all.

"Oh dear," Jessica murmured.

"They're just, you know...sorting some things out," the man said, watching as Adouwe vanished around the corner of a building under a rain of blows from the old woman. "No worries, mates."

By this point the last of the villagers were vanishing into their houses.

"Yeah. Maybe...we ought to go?" Ryan suggested.

"Ummmm...yeah, that might be best," the man nodded sadly. "Sorry about, you know..."

"That's alright. We really should have explained that we were mother and son at the beginning," Jessica assured him, though there was no reason for them to have done anything like that.

The man was looking at them like they'd both just received a terminal prognosis. "Yeah, well, you know, mother and son bond. Strongest in the world. I'm sure it'll see you through. I'm sure. No worries. At all."

Ryan thought about offering his hand to shake, but the way the man was looking at them it might just make him turn tail and run; the part of him that wanted a release from the sudden awkward tension would have been tickled to do just that, but he couldn't help feeling bad for the whole village. Especially Adouwe "Ok, well...I guess we'll...roll on out. Back to the hotel."

The man walked them to their jeep, and as they climbed in, he said, "You know, I wouldn't worry about anything. It was just a superstitious ceremony. Nothing to it, mates. Nothing will come of it."

"We're not religious," Ryan told him, "so it's alright. It was a really nice thought."

"And it was still an honor," Jessica assured him again.

"And I'm glad we could help Aneri," Ryan added.

"We will always be grateful," the man assured him solemnly, but by now his eyes were pleading with them to leave and put an end to this agony. The three exchanged goodbyes, and as the jeep drove down the mountain, the man shook hie head sadly and whispered, "You poor fucking bastards."

Ryan and Jess didn't speak until they were two minutes outside the village, when they both exploded into gales of laughter at the same moment. "Oh my God!" Ryan laughed. "That got weird fast!"

"Oh, I felt so bad for Adouwe! He's a sweet man who just wanted to do something nice for us."

"That explains why the old woman didn't like you though. She knew you were my mom."

Jessica laughed. In spite of the awkwardness, being mistaken for an 18-year-old young man's wife was exactly the ego boost she needed after her dark thoughts of that morning. "Let that be a lesson to you, Ryan. Always listen to your wife when she tells you you're being an idiot!"

"I don't think that was his wife, she was too old," he said. "I think she was his mom. You just made the same mistake Adouwe did."

Jess giggled. "Well in that case, all the more reason to always listen to your mother! We know a thing or two."

Ryan grinned and shook his head. "They really took it seriously, didn't they?"

"Well sure," she nodded. "Imagine if they only held the Super Bowl once in a lifetime. It would be a huge event for our culture."

Football-loving Ryan winced. "Don't even say that! It's not funny."

She shot him a look out of the corner of her eye, weighed her words carefully, and then casually said, "We do make a pretty hot couple."

"What?"

"Seriously. I could do worse than hang off the arm of a hot young stud like you."

He sighed and frowned. "Oh don't even start."

"I could be your prom date for your senior year."

Ryan blushed red, put his hands over his face, and groaned. "I am never going to hear the end of this, am I?"

"Just wait until I tell your father he's being replaced by a trophy husband."

"Kill me. Just kill me and hide my body in the jungle. Tell everybody I fell in the volcano."

Jessica could hold it no longer and burst into a peal of laughter. Ever since he was a little boy, Ryan had always been adorable when he was embarrassed. His ears got so red! "Oh if you could see your face."

"Yeah yeah, you're hilarious. I'm of the opinion that nobody ever needs to hear about this."

"Oh honey, you saved a little boy! I'm going to tell everyone about my hero son!"

"But not the ceremony. Right?" No answer. "Right?"

Jess giggled again. "Oh no. Not that. I'm only telling your dad about that."

Ryan groaned like he'd been stabbed. "Do you really have to tell him?"

"Why not? He'll think it's hilarious. And he'll only tease you about it when Kim isn't around."

"Oh God, please tell me you won't tell Kim!"

"Of course not, kiddo. I want to embarrass you, not make you run away from home."

"Because I will. She would torment me 'til my dying day with this."

"Which is why everyone but your dad will be told you saved a child and received the thanks of a grateful village."

"We saved a child, remember? I'm not letting you downplay your part in it."

Jess paused, then said with a perfectly straight face, "Maybe Lexy will have some competition for my hero son, All the ladies will want a piece of you. Young old, married single, they'll be kicking down your hotel door."

"Why is this day just getting more and more awkward?"

She smirked. "Don't worry, I won't tell Lexy that people think I'm your perfect girlfriend."

"Ugh. Can we just not talk?"

Jess giggled for the next two miles. Ryan was always so much fun to tease.

"-- and then she made a perfect throw. I don't even know how she did it. The cable landed almost on top of me. All I had to do was hold onto the cable and the kid and let her pull us both out," Ryan said as he walked along the beach, hands in pockets at the sun set behind the hills.

Lexy walked next to him, her big brown eyes wide and shining with admiration. "You're a hero, Ryan!"

"No I'm not!" he laughed, though he liked to hear her tell him he was. "I just did what anyone would do, anyone who could swim I mean. I didn't even have time to think."

"That's always what heroes say," she said, slipping her arm around his waist as the incoming tide lapped their feet. "I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you, babe. But I really didn't do anything much."

"I am willing to bet his parents disagree with that."

"Well..." Don't mention the ceremony, don't mention the ceremony, don't mention the ceremony... "They seemed pretty happy, yeah."

"I believe you ought to get a reward for your brave, brave actions," she said firmly.

No more rewards, please. His tolerance level for absurdity had been reached and surpassed already. "When my mom told my dad, he said he was going to arrange like a beach party for me and mom tonight."

"There's a beach party every night," she scoffed. "And I was thinking of something with rather a more...personal...touch."

"Oh, that kind of reward! You know, I was pretty heroic after all..."

"Yes, you were," she giggled, pressing herself against him. Suddenly she grabbed his arm and began pulling him forward at a run. He followed behind eagerly, ready to go where she led. They ran fifty yards together to a broken rowboat that had been cast up on the beach by the storm and was partially buried in the sand. She pulled him down on the side of it facing the ocean and kissed him fiercely.

Oh, Lexy. Of all the things on this island, he was going to miss her the most when he left for home.

Her tongue plundered his mouth like her Visigothic ancestors plundered Barcelona. He'd seen her horny a lot -- a lot -- but never anything like this. Apparently saving kids got chicks randy! Her tongue twined itself around his, sucking, coaxing, cajoling, while down below she took his trunks in both hands and yanked them down over his hips.

And suddenly her head was down there too. She looked up at him, her hand around his raging erection and her smiling face next to it, and then she swallowed him to the root, her tongue doing to his cock what it had been doing to his mouth moments before. All Ryan could do was moan and enjoy a hero's proper reward. As Lexy's long, dexterous fingers began caressing his balls, he wondered idly if Captain America got head from gorgeous Spanish girls whenever he saved someone...

"Hey everybody, listen up!" Kim's voice rose above the din. "Hey! Everybody! I want to propose a toast."

About fifty people were gathered around the cabana bar that, through dint of serious effort by people who wanted to sell alcohol, had been reconstructed over the course of the day. The task had been made possible by the fact that there wasn't much to it -- it was basically half a room with some shelves, a cobbled-together bar, and a small storage room in back. Most importantly, additional stocks of alcohol had been secured; not everything had been replaced (there was no Cointreau, and no vermouth could be found on the island for love or money) but there was more than enough to get a crowd lubricated.

Now that she had everyone's attention, Kim went on. "So most of you know that earlier today, my mom, Jessica McCullen, saved a little boy who was about to be drowned." There was an appreciative cheer and a round of applause. Jessica blushed and waved. "So right now, tonight, there's a child who is going to get to grow up because my mom was there, and I think that's pretty amazing!"

There was a bigger cheer this time, punctuated by a shout of "Bloody good on ya!" and another of "Ona geroinya!" Jess accepted the applause with grace, and when it had died down she said, "Aren't you forgetting someone, honey?"

"Hmm?" Kim asked. "What you mean? You were the only one there, weren't you? Oh, right!" She turned to Ryan, who was standing next to her, and put her hand on his shoulder. "My little brother. My pain-in-the-ass little brother, who dived into a flood like a boss and swam out to rescue a little kid who needed help. Ryan, I will never again say this in front of people, so you'd better enjoy it: you're a fantastic guy and I couldn't be prouder to be your sister."

A big cheer this time. Everyone had heard the story now and Ryan wasn't going to have to buy a drink all night -- and for once he was actually drinking. Drinking age in Ranu Ratu was 18 so technically he could have been doing this every night, but he always felt weird about consuming alcohol in front of his parents. It wasn't that they'd told him he couldn't, exactly, but the look of vague disappointment in his father's eyes when he'd asked about it was enough to steer him off. Tonight though, he was gonna get wildly, hideously, massively shitfaced, and he was gonna do it with his parents' blessing. His dad had told him before the party started that he'd earned the chance to go a little crazy. How could he pass that up? He spoke up and asked, "Is somebody recording this? I want a video of my sister saying something nice about me in public."

"Gotcha covered, buddy," Paul called from behind his phone, to general laughter.

"So what I was trying to say before I got so rudely interrupted," Kim resumed, "is that my mom and my brother are both wonderful people, so let's drink to Jess and Ryan!"

"To Jess and Ryan!" came the reply.

Alcohol was consumed. Time passed.

"I thought 18-year-olds usually graduated from high school, but you say you have a year left," a crane operator said over the top of his fifth double Jack. "So, what, you're just stupid or something?"

Ryan shook his head as he sipped his beer. "No, I missed the cutoff by a few days. I just turned 18, so I'll just be a normal senior. Thanks for asking, though, it was nice."

Alcohol was consumed. Time passed.

"So listen, Jess, I was thinking." The speaker was Trish Hendricks, a member of Der Frauen-Trinkclub from Boston, with the accent to prove it. She was deep into her third Long Island Iced Tea. "Your son's 18. Would you mind if I took him back to my room and screwed his brains out?"
Jess arched an eyebrow. "I don't think your husband would approve."

"Fuck him. No, seriously, you can fuck him to distract him and I can pop your boy's cherry. It's a win-win."

"I'm afraid you're a couple years too late to pop anything," Jess said, sipping a Toohey's. "And besides, he's been spending every moment with Lexy Garza. I doubt he has any energy left."

"But he's never had a real woman! I can show him things that Lexy Garza hasn't even heard of. Like, I do this thing with my tongue --"

"Trish, there aren't enough 'nos' in the world for this conversation."

"C'mon."

"No."

'C'mon!"

"No!"

"C'mooooon..."

Alcohol was consumed. Time passed.

"No, so seriously, listen," Ryan said with tremendous gravity. "What Rano Rato...Ratu...Ranu... fuck it, you know what I mean. What this place needs is a water park."

"They're building one," Lexy assured him with equal gravity; her English was now heavily Spanish accented. "It's part of el gran resort."

"No, right, no, but...like, they should build another water park. They could like take one of the small islands and make it a water park. Whole thing."

"I don' think they need two."

Ryan looked down into his whiskey and considered that very deeply, then looked back up at Lexy and stated his well-reasoned counterpoint: "Let's go back to my room. I am so fucking horny right now."

Lexy laughed sloppily. "You too drunk to do anything, chico."

"No I'm not!" he protested, although currently it was only the wall he was leaning on that was keeping him sort of upright. "I'm just a little...um...I'm horny!"

Lexy giggled. "Vas a vomitar sobre mí. It would be gross."

He laughed. "I don't speak Spanish, babe!"

"Oh, I know. I am very drunk too. But I don' wanna be with you if you puke up all..." She waved her hand in a vague circle to indicate everything from her hair to her waist. "All over. Me. All over me."

"I'm not gonna puke!' he protested. "An' if I do it only takes a few seconds."

"You. Need. To go. To bed." she said, jabbing her finger repeatedly into his chest for emphasis. The force of it nearly knocked Ryan down. "Solo, dulce chico."

He frowned. "Solo?"

"So. Lo. But tomorrow I make up to you."

That brightened him. "Promise?"

"Promise. All day for the big hero."

"Well. OK. In that case, I'll go to bed." He pushed his shoulder off the wall, went vertical, and then kept going until he pitched right into the sand, looking around with utter bafflement at his sudden change of posture.

A few seconds later, Paul was there above him, a smile on his face and his hand outstretched. "That's enough for you buddy. Let's get you back to the hotel."

Ryan found himself hauled to his feet and making his way across the beach toward the hotel, his father bearing most of his weight and keeping him on a more or less straight path. After a few seconds, he admitted. "Dad, I think I might have drank too much."

"I concede the possibility."

"Huh?'

"You're drunk off your ass, son."

"Oh. Yeah. I am."

"You earned it," Paul said, then added with a grin, "And you also earned your hangover."

"You think I'm gonna have a hangover?"

Paul snorted. "Let's just wait and see."

Ryan really didn't think he was drunk enough to have a hangover the next morning, and he was just about to say so when he suddenly dropped to his knees and vomited. Paul let him finish, helped him to his feet, and kicked sand over the offensive pile, asking, "Feel better?"

"Yeah, a little," Ryan admitted. "I probably should go to bed."

Ten minutes later they were in Ryan's room. Ryan was only wearing a button-down shirt and baggies, so it didn't take long for him to get down to his underwear. Paul made sure his son was lying on his left side, using his left arm as a pillow and with his right knee pulled up to keep him from rolling. Some skills acquired in college never left you, like the ability to best position drunks for a safe night's sleep. Ryan protested that he wasn't really very tired, and three minutes later he was snoring. Paul propped him in place with pillows and blankets and made his way back to his own room.

"-- so he'll be paying for it in the morning." Paul said. He was sitting up in bed with his work tablet on his lap, but he wasn't reading the progress report on the screen; he was watching his wife as she sat at the vanity. He loved to watch her prepare herself to go out, or to go to bed, or to do just about anything. He loved watching her.

Jess was diligently removing her foundation. She wasn't drunk -- she'd confined herself to beer and had nursed three over the course of the evening -- but she was definitely buzzed, which meant that she needed to pay special attention to the hairline and the area around the ears or she'd wake up with makeup on her pillow. Not that she had to clean the pillowcases here, but still. It was the principle of the thing. "We all had our first brutal hangover once," she said, a faint smile showing at the corner of her mouth. "He'll live, and he'll learn what it feels like."

Paul nodded. "I just hope I feel better tomorrow. This headache's been beating me up all day long."

"I know, sweety. It's wonderful that you got everyone together for a party for Ryan anyway in spite of all that. He'll always remember it...the parts before he got too drunk, anyway. I know it meant the world to him."

Paul watched for a few more moments, then said, "You're just as pretty without the makeup, you know."

"Is that the breezy feeling of smoke being blown up my ass?" she asked, her eyes narrowing and darting to his reflection in the mirror.

"I mean it. I love that your face is the first thing I see in the morning. You worry about makeup and all that, but you're as perfect when you don't do anything as you are when you spend however long getting everything just right."

"Hmmph." She knew he was BSing her (even if he believed it himself, which he probably did) but she was a little tipsy and in the mood to be flattered. "If you didn't have a headache I'd swear you were trying to get laid tonight."

"You cut me, woman. I only speak the truth."

"Well it's too bad you aren't trying to get laid tonight, because I'm frisky as heck."

"Oh, now you really cut me. A headache and I miss sex with the hottest woman on the island. Worst night ever."

She dropped her washcloth, crossed the room, and climbed onto the bed, the front of her dress dipping low to show massive amounts of massive cleavage. "I have to tell you the craziest thing."

He arched an eyebrow. "Is it about Trish Hendricks? Because she tried to convince me to let you distract her husband while she dragged Ryan off --"

"No, not that Southie lush!" Jessica laughed. "It's about what happened when we brought the boy back to his village." She launched into the tale, describing Adouwe and the old woman, the preparation for the blessing, the villagers gathering and singing, the chanting, the breathing smoke.

"That sounds fantastic, honey!" Paul said. "Why didn't you tell everyone that?"

She was grinning from ear to ear. "Because after it was over, Ryan asked Adouwe what the blessing meant, and guess what? It was a fertility blessing."

Paul burst into laughter. "Oh we're really lucky Trish didn't get Ryan alone then, he'd have knocked her up for sure! She'd have divorced her husband for him and we'd have that booze sponge for a daughter-in-law!"

"No, not for him," Jess said. "For us. For me and him. Adouwe thought we were married!"

Paul looked baffled. "Like...to each other?"

"Yes!" she laughed, slapping her hands on the bed. "Can you believe it?"

He looked like he was indeed having a hard time believing it at that. "What kind of fertility blessing are we talking about here?"

"Oh, the usual."

He grinned. "I have to admit, my experience with fertility blessings is more limited than yours. What constitutes a usual one?"

"Just that we'd be in love forever, always have the hots for each other, crank out lots of kids. You know, the usual."

"Well, shit. And here I thought our marriage was going so well."

"Glad you think so, because I think so too.".

"I dunno, he's younger than I am, a lot better shape. You could do worse."

"Oh, I'm sure he's just eager to forget about little Euro-princesses and jump the bones of a 45-year-old woman!" she laughed. "Oh, and let me tell you what happened then..."

When the telling was done and she was lying curled up next to her husband, his arm around her shoulder, he mused, "So I don't have anything to worry about, my son stealing my wife?"

"I think I can safely say that will not happen, dear."

"Hmmm. Maybe the magic blessing is why I have a headache tonight. It's trying to keep us apart."

"I tell you what, mister You wake up without that headache tomorrow and I will send you to work with the biggest smile you've ever had. How about that?"

"Promise?"

"Anal."

"Sweet Christ, I hope I don't have a headache tomorrow morning."

Milwaukee. Home. Living room. White light from outside, neither sunlight nor clouds. White curtains billow. The Woman stands in the middle of the room, young, perfect, with chocolate-brown hair spilling in waves over tanned, flawless shoulders and up onto breasts that are large, full, impossibly high and firm. She runs a delicate hand over her flat stomach, feeling tension there, not nerves but something more. The tension felt when one is approaching one's destiny.

The Man comes -- or was he there all along? Tall, hard body with angular planes, strong, lithe, virility etched in every contour. As young as the Woman or as old, or as eternal. His gaze falls upon her, takes her in, top to bottom and back up, every curve. He can smell her readiness for him, the scent sweet and delicate in the air, and he knows her arousal belongs to him and to him alone.

Her eyes attack him like a panther, sweeping over his body, the powerful shoulders, the rippling abdomen, the muscular calves. Then back up, back to his cock, erect and boastful as it juts out; it is perfection, steel-hard and ready for her and only for her. She knows how it will feel when she touches it, yet she has never touched it. She knows how it will taste, yet she has never tasted it. She knows how it will feel as it plunges inside her, opening her, owning her, yet she has never taken it inside her, for she is once more as virginal as a newborn. She is a girl still, a girl again, and it is the Man's cock that will finally make her a woman.

But not yet, It is not time for that yet.

They are together now, body against body. Who crossed to whom? Or had they always been together, always been touching?

The Woman lays a hand on his shoulder and feels the power there, pure masculinity, the ideal man. Slowly she runs her hand down his arm, feeling the strength in his muscles, knowing his strength belongs to her and owns her, both at the same time. His skin is flawless. He is flawless, new-made, unspoiled. Just as she is. New-made Woman and Man, Woman for Man, Man for Woman.

The Man lays a hand on the Woman's side, just below her arm. He feels her heat, hotter now for him. He feels her heartbeat and knows that his beats in the same time. Had it always been that way? Was there a time before they were together? It didn't matter. He moves his hand down her body, feeling it narrow as he descends to her waist and then flare again at the hip, wide and magnificent. And between her legs -- though he does not touch it yet -- is soft, wet, warm, ready for him always, ready to take him in and then, nine months later, bring forth what they had made together.

But not yet, It is not time for that yet.

They kiss. This is the first time they have kissed but their movements are certain and strong. She sighs as she feels his lips on hers. It is for this reason that her lips were made, this reason and one other. Their tongues meet at the junction of their mouths and rest together for a moment, the feeling of unity after an eternity apart -- or had it been an eternity together? Their tongues move now, start to dance together, each caressing and teasing and coaxing the other, first in her mouth and then his, back and forth. Faster and stronger, more heated as their heats mingle to make something greater than either of them could ever have made alone.

Hands move, touching, stroking with fingertips and with palms. The Man groans with pleasure as he touches the Woman's breasts, so large, so firm. Her areolas are pink disks around large nipples, and it is her turn to moan when he closes one between thumb and forefinger to squeeze and tug, the sensations rippling through her body. A tremble passes through her, raising goosebumps on her skin in its wake and making her arch her back to press her breasts more firmly into his hands. She tries to form words against his lips, but another tug of her nipples and the words vanish in a gasp of inarticulate physical delight.

She is not idle while he makes her moan. Her hands drift down, across soft skin and iron muscles rippling in his back, until they find the Man's ass. She takes it, one cheek in each hand, and squeezes it. The muscles are so firm that there is almost no give. Between their bodies his hard cock leaps against her stomach. Their gasps into each other's mouths come simultaneously and she pulls him even closer so their bodies hold his shaft upright. She feels it with a shudder of anticipation: she can tell its length, and she knows how deep it will go into her body when he slides it inside her tight, spasming, virginal pussy. Both know that it will give them such joy that nothing else could even compare --

But not yet, It is not time for that yet.

Suddenly the Woman drops to her haunches with her face so close to the Man's cock that he can feel the heat of her skin on his sensitive flesh and her breath washes over it like a warm breeze. She looks at it for a long moment, eyes wide at its perfection. It is long, longer than any cock she has ever taken into her newly-untouched body, and as thick around as her wrist. It is perfectly straight, from the base all the way to the flaring mushroom head, and the flesh grows more livid with each beat of the Man's heart. She licks her lips, part virgin nervousness and part uncontainable anticipation, and wraps her fingers around the shaft,

The Man moans, cants his hips forward, moving his cock in the Woman's hand.

She lifts the shaft so that the throbbing vein that runs up the underside is exposed to her gaze. It is magnificent. Its beauty is beyond words. It is hers. She looks up at him with enormous dark green eyes and extends the tip of a pert pink tongue from between full lips to touch the underside of the shaft at the very spot it meets his heavy, full balls. His eyes lock with hers, and for a moment Man and Woman stare into each other. She presses her tongue against him and licks slowly from his balls to the beautiful head, then around in a dexterous swirl of her tongue, and then back down again. The Man says something, gives some voice to his joy, but his words reach her as a distant murmur. They don't matter, not here, not now, not anymore.

The Man watches as she licks around the head again, once, twice, and he notices that the Woman's free hand has gone between her legs -- not to get herself wet but because she is so aroused that she needs to feel something, anything, against her dripping sex. When she licks back down to the base of his cock her face is almost hidden behind his shaft, but when she comes up again her eyes are burning with lust for him. She swallows his tip, locking her dark red lips around it and letting her tongue dance under and over it, flick at the hole, caress. And then she takes him deeper, inch by inch, never hesitating. It looks impossible that she will fit him all into her mouth, but they both know that she can and will, this time and countless times in the future. Because this is the other use for her mouth besides kissing, and her lips belong around the base of his shaft -- and in only a few moments that is exactly where they are, and her nose is buried against his body. She holds there, eyes still on his, and inhales his scent even as she tastes him.

He speaks again, words of praise, words of encouragement, and he says her name in a tone of adoration that thrills her. She slowly releases him, drawing her mouth back along each inch of him. The Man sees that the Woman has placed a dark red lipstick ring around the uttermost base of his cock, and he knows that she has claimed him as her property -- just as he will claim her as his. He smiles and whispers her name again, and she shivers all over from delight.

She takes him down again, then back up, then down again, over and over, letting her tongue dance over every little part of his shaft, letting him slide into her throat, letting his pubes tickle her nose. She could bring him to climax here, on her knees in front of him, and a part of her desperately wants to give him pleasure and get nothing back but vicarious joy. But she knows that he wants to please her just as much, and she desperately wants to be pleased. She eases back onto -- Pillows? A bed? Hadn't the wooden floor been beneath them only a moment before? It didn't matter. Onto her back she goes, spreading her legs to show him the sweet cleft she keeps hidden there, her dark, trimmed pubic hair glistening with her dew.

The Man pauses only a moment to admire the Woman as she lays before him, because he needs her. He needs to taste her, to drink her in, to lick up every drop and keep her wet for him forever. He goes down onto his knees between her legs and leans in to place a single kiss on each nipple. She whispers his name and twines her fingers through his hair as he begins to kiss down her abdomen, over her navel. Her hips shift with involuntary eagerness as he puts his chest against the bed and kisses the top of her mound, just where it begins to swell from the flatness of her young stomach. Then one big hand finds each thigh and pushes her legs apart, and the fullness of her arousal wafts out to him; he inhales her scent, breathing her in until his lungs are full and then breathing her in deeper still. A soft rumble of wordless joy comes from somewhere in his chest, and then he lowers his mouth to her pussy.

The moan that wrenches itself from the Woman's lips comes from the soles of her feet, from the tips of her fingers; it twists inside her and grows until it leaves her lips in a ragged, perfect exclamation of joyful lust. His mouth is so firm against her that she can feel his teeth behind his lips, feel the bones of his cheeks as he devours her. There is no delicateness in the way he attacks her, just as there had been none in how she had taken him. Other times would be delicate, but this time, their first touch as lovers, the need is all. She moans his name again and then again and again, reveling in the way the sounds feel in her mouth as much as she had reveled in how his cock had felt there, as much as he was now reveling in having his tongue inside her doing such magnificent things.

She lifts her hips against him but he pulls back only a little as she begins to grind her pussy against him, fucking his face, grinding her vulva and her throbbing little clit against his nose and mouth. He holds firm and lets her add the pleasure of her actions to that from his. He feels her body thrum, he sees the little quivers it causes in her stomach, he hears her breath sucking shallower and more ragged. And like the Woman with his cock in her mouth, he knows he could make her come this way with only a little more.
But they were not here to come separately.

Without a word, her hips drop to the bed as he shifts around. His mouth never leaves her slit as he moves his hips above her waiting face and then lowers himself. Her mouth opens wide and he slides his cock past her lips and into her throat. The moan she gives at the return of his shaft is almost orgasmic. As her tongue and cheeks and throat renew their ministrations, he shifts his lips to her clit, the groans they each give echoed by the other.

The Man's lips caress her bud; the Woman's tongue smothers his glans. His finger slips past her labia and inside her tight, unsullied heat; her finger slips into his ass and finds his prostate; they fuck each other as they suck each other, driven each by the need to please the other, guided each by sure knowledge of how to do just that.

The Man comes, a flood of thick, potent semen exploding into the Woman's throat. She drinks it down like the rarest of vintages, not letting a drop escape. Someday soon he will put this powerful seed into her womb and give her a child, the first of many, but that is in the future. For now, this was all she wants. At the same moment, the Woman's body trembles and she lifts her hips against the Man's face again, bucking, trembling, spasming. He feels her discharge, tastes its high, sweet tang, hears her scream around the cock that fills her throat. He drinks her down as she drank him, lost in perfect bliss...

Day Two

Jessica awoke to the last part of the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced in her life. Her whole body was aflame, her every nerve singing to an unheard aria, every muscle held rigid. Her eyes were screwed shut and her mouth was wide open in a silent howl of blissful release. She felt transported out of herself, out of her mind, into a place where there was nothing except the pleasure. It went on and on and on --

And all too soon it was over, leaving her to feel its absence like the departure of a lover. She lay panting beneath the thin hotel sheet, mind a white blank, body numb from overload. It was nearly two minutes before she could softly gasp, "What...what the fuck...was that..."

Slowly she came back to herself. The dream. Holy shit, that dream. What was that about? She had been home in her own living room, but she hadn't been herself...or had she been? She'd been a virgin but not, she knew that, and she hadn't looked like herself. Brown hair? Tanned skin devoid of freckles? She'd had the body she'd had when she was 19 - no, better than when she was 19. She had had the body of a goddess.

And the man she was with -- who the hell was that? She could remember the body, remember everything she felt when he touched her, but...what was his face? His name? Was it Paul? No, not Paul, but so familiar! She really felt like she ought to know who it was about - in fact, for some reason she felt like it was important that she know -- but the details were fading from her mind in the way dreams do.

But God! That orgasm! She was still trembling from it. Who would have thought that she would have a wet dream at her age --

She froze. Wet. Her panties and her upper thighs were soaked, and she could feel a damp patch in the bed under her ass. Had she peed herself? She slipped a hand down inside her underwear and brought back a milky white fluid. Semen? Had Paul fucked her in her sleep? She put her fingers to her nose -- no smell at all. She dabbed a bit on her tongue, and found it to be sweet tasting, nothing like a man's come. So what the hell...

A wet dream. A real wet dream. For the first time in her life, Jess had ejaculated! She had heard about it, read about it, even seen it online, but she had never quite believed it possible. It was supposed to take a lot of stimulation even for people who could manage it, and yet here she was with panties full of girl-cum without ever even being touched.

Unless...

She looked at Paul. He was on his side facing away from her. His breathing was slow and regular, his skin was cool. He hadn't worked up a sweat getting her off. He wasn't just pretending to be asleep for some reason, he really hadn't laid a hand on her.

It had been the dream.

Maybe she needed to wash her face. Maybe that would help. She pushed the sheet away, but then pulled it back again. She was still trembling. If she could see herself, she would bet that the afterglow would be blinding. Her heart was still hammering in her chest!

It was such a strange dream. It was her house, but not -- the curtains in the living room were green, not white. Beds didn't just appear when a girl was about to get head, more's the pity. And the woman in the dream...she had been her, but not, just as the name the man had called her in the dream had been hers but not hers. What name was it? She had forgotten that too. It was dream logic, she supposed, the same way you could be a movie character or your own great-aunt in a dream.

But it had felt so damned real! And now for some reason she was feeling...guilty?

"Come on girl, get a hold of yourself," she whispered. It was just a dream. She didn't control what she dreamed. It wasn't her fault that the best orgasm she'd ever had, had happened when she was dreaming of a young hardbody instead of with her husband. She didn't even know who the guy in the dream was supposed to have been --

But she ought to. She knew she ought to. And...she wanted to know. Maybe it was the last part that made her feel guilty.

Ugh! It was just a phantasm, a dream man, he wasn't real! She could even remember his face or his name. Her mind had just made something up to get her off!

And yet...

She pushed the blankets away for real this time. It was past dawn, she could get up. She needed to splash some water on her face...well, given how wet she was, she might need an actual shower. She stood and steadied herself, willing the effects of her orgasm to fade. After a minute she made her way to the bathroom.

It was alright. The details of the dream were fading. She didn't need to feel guilty about something her mind had just cobbled together against her will. It was just a stupid nighttime illusion, nothing more. Vivid, though. Why, if she didn't know better, she would have sworn she could actually taste the man's cum in her mouth...

At the same moment that Jessica had awakened, Ryan was snapped from sleep by an orgasm that hit him so hard it felt like a vise on his balls. Every muscle in his stomach and thighs contracted and he came hard, shooting jet after jet of hot cum into his underwear. In the first instant he had no idea where he was, and even as he moaned, his tongue and lips were still working the most perfect pussy he had ever imagined.

Unlike his mother in the next room down the hall, though, Ryan's body didn't allow him to linger in post-coital bliss for more than a few moments. The ripples of pleasure were pushed out of his body with a blast of pain from his head and another from his stomach. His moan of release died on his lips, replaced instantly by a whimper of confused agony. "Jesus Christ," he whispered, "did I just die?"

Unfortunately, the answer was no. He was just hung over.

The truth took a couple of long minutes to penetrate his tormented head, and when it did all he could do was say, "Ow..."

For all that, though, he remembered a dream. He'd been with the most beautiful woman in the world, a brunette whose pneumatic shape would make an hourglass feel like it needed to lose some weight. For a moment he was certain he knew who she was, but then it was gone, replaced by a mule-kick throb of head pain.

"Ow," he repeated, feeling justified in the repetition. Why hadn't somebody told him last night that he was going to feel this way in the morning? Why did they even let people drink if this shit happened? Bastards. Everyone was a bastard.

And he'd been home, in the living room, The sofa had been in the wrong place, and a bed had, like, appeared, but the dream had been set in the family home. He had belonged there, and so had the woman, whomever she was. It was weird that he couldn't remember --

Aw, fuck, who cared? It was a dream, that's all. Why did it matter who a made-up woman was?

Except he kind of thought it did matter.

"Fuck dreams and fuck everything el -- water!" he croaked. Oh how he needed water, and then he needed to piss, and then he might need to die. But not before taking in and letting out water.

He succeeded in pushing himself out of bed on the second try, and he was glad that Kim wasn't there to hear his whimper of pain or she would never, ever permit him to forget it. He was also glad that she wasn't there to see the huge cum stain leaking through his boxer briefs, because he never would have heard the end of that either. Basically he was just glad his sister wasn't there. He stumbled to the sideboard that represented a minibar, grabbed a bottle of water, and downed half of it with a single swig. It did nothing to quench his thirst, so he downed the other half. That also did nothing to quench his thirst.

Stupid fucking hangover.

He made it to the bathroom, dropping his underwear to the floor on the way, and lifted the toilet seat. One hand on the wall and the other on his cummy dick, he waited for three seconds for the piss to start and then groaned in momentary happiness when it did. In his current state he was no good judge of time, but he would have estimated that he urinated for 873 years before his bladder grudgingly conceded it was empty. He was kind of amazed he hadn't wet the bed...well, with anything other than his semen, that is.

God that dream was amazing. If only he could meet a girl like that in real life!

The boilers weren't working so his shower wasn't hot, but Ryan didn't really give a fuck. He stepped in and let the cold give his nerves something to worry about other than the aftereffects of booze. It was almost two minutes of just standing there before he began to wash.

When he reached his groin, he discovered there was lipstick on his dick. Obviously it had been there since Lexy gave him his beach BJ the night before. He wasn't sure if that was sexy or gross, but either way it had to go. He began scrubbing.

Given his condition, it was understandable that Ryan didn't realize the lipstick couldn't have come from Lexy Garza, because she had been wearing a sparkly peach shade that went well with her olive complexion; even if he had noticed that, he almost certainly would not have realized that the lipstick ring on the uttermost base of his cock was the same deep red shade that the woman in his dream had been wearing, and the same shade that his mother had worn yesterday during the blessing.


That Damned Blessing Ch. 02
Things start getting weird for Jess and Ryan.
Author's Note: This is the second chapter in my foray into the mind control genre. The first chapter was received fairly well, so hopefully the second will be even better. One can always hope.

All imaginary persons I imagined for the purposes of this story who engage in sexual activity of the imaginary variety are 18 imaginary years old or older, I imagine. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is coincidental but obviously fated to be, so blame the Universe and not me.

Up next: Are You Tiffani Caine? Chapter 3

That Damned Blessing, Chapter 2:

In Which Changes Are Begun and Recognition Is Gained

Day Two

Jess sat awkwardly at a little outdoor table on the crude deck of the hotel, eating her breakfast of eggs and toast. In spite of the intensity of the orgasm her dream had given her, she had still been painfully horny when Paul woke up, and she had practically forced him to fuck her.

Fortunately his headache was gone and he had taken her up on last night's offer of anal. The current throbbing from her butt testified to the fact that he had urged him on past the point of restraint, which was weird in itself: on the unusual previous occasions where she had permitted her husband to fuck her ass, she had always asked him to be careful and take it slow, but this morning she had been a different animal, begging him to pound her little asshole harder, harder, harder. Paul, being both a good husband and a horny, horny man, had been all too keen to comply. And that was why she had yet to find a comfortable sitting position this morning: Paul had given her a good orgasm. In fact, it was the best orgasm she'd ever had from anal, and one of the best orgasms she'd ever had on her husband's cock, if not the best.

But then it hadn't actually been Paul's assfucking that had gotten her off; it had gotten her close but it had left her hanging on the edge, unable to reach the final release. Finally, in desperation, she'd thought of the dream she'd had the night before, that perfect man allowing her to suck his perfect cum out of his perfect cock, and that had sent her sailing into a shrieking climax...and it was definitely the first time she'd come from thinking about sucking an imaginary dick! It was just the images were so vivid, so powerful, and so erotic that she couldn't help but be aroused by them past the point of restraint. Even now, sitting on a sore butt and with a pair of huge releases in her recent past, just thinking about that dream was getting her very worked up again.

Why? It was just a dream! And a dream about oral sex - what kind of grown, married mother of two got off on a dream about oral?

"Good morning, mom," came her daughter Kim's voice as the young woman joined her on the deck. "How are you this morning? Sleep OK?"

I slept the horniest sleep I've ever slept, Jess thought, but what she said was, "Oh fine, you?"

"Pretty good, except I got woken up by Ryan moaning first thing this morning," Kim grumped as she sat down. "I'm pretty sure he was sleeping, but it sounded like he was in major discomfort."

"Did you go check on him?" Jessica asked.

"What, are you kidding? I have a reputation of not caring about him to uphold. He was probably just getting leg cramps like he used to do all the time."

"He woke up screaming from those," Jess nodded. "Now I'm worried. I have to go check."

"I just did," Kim said with a chuckle as she nodded over Jess' shoulder to the beach, where Ryan had just come into view pursuing a shrieking Lexy across the sand. "He looks fine to me."

"He must have had a nightmare," Jess replied, gazing at her son and feeling more concerned than she thought she should have. "After yesterday with the river and everything it's not surprising he'd have bad dreams! I'll have to ask him about it."

"He's a big boy, he can take care of himself," Kim shrugged, then added a line she'd often said in her own young adult years: "Mother, not smother."

Jess stuck out her tongue at her daughter. "You weren't there. That river was terrifying. He could have been killed in any number of ways."

"Uuuuugh, am I going to have my 'hero brother' held over my head for the rest of my life?"

"Obviously, yes," Jessica nodded solemnly, though a trace of a grin turned the corner of her mouth.

"That's just...ugh," Kim groused with a smile. The waiter appeared, took her order, and went away again. Mother and daughter spent the next few minutes chatting about this and that, although Jess' eyes kept flicking back to Ryan almost obsessively. "Mom," Kim finally said, "he's fine. He's having a good time."

"I can't just turn off the mom switch," Jess pointed out. "It was a terrifying experience for me, and I didn't take the risks he did. Of course I'm going to worry about him. He's still my baby boy."

"Can I tease him about that?"

"I can't stop you."

Kim nodded in satisfaction. There was a brief pause in the conversation before Kim said, "You know, if you need to go to the bathroom, you can. You don't need to stay here keeping me company."

"I don't have to go to the bathroom," Jess said.

"Then why are you --" It was then that Kim saw the look on her mom's face, a mingled expression of embarrassment, happiness, and even pride that Kim knew all too well from too many college walks of shame, both her own and others'. "Oh. Oh, gross."

Jessica's expression changed to the calculating, catlike gaze she adopted whenever she was about to tease one of her children in a way that would make said child acutely embarrassed. "What's the matter, honey?"

"Just - ugh, I don't even want to know."

"'Ugh?' It's not like your father and I have ever been ashamed of the fact that we still get it."

"Yeah but you don't have to flaunt it!!"

"But when you get it as good as I got it, you want everyone to know how good you're getting it."

Kim winced and shielded her face with her hands. "Nooo! Don't ever say that again!"

"You see, honey, when two people love each other very much, they sometimes like it rough..."

"Oh Jesus, will you be quiet?" Kim exclaimed in exasperation. "I don't need to know any of this!"

"But don't you want to know how many times your father and I --"

"LA LA LA LA LA!" Kim chanted with her hands clapped hard over her ears and her eyes crunched tight. "STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT!"

It was then that the waiter brought out Kim's omelet and set the plate in front of her, his professional demeanor slipping only slightly when he saw Kim with her face plugged shut and yelling. He shot a curious glance at Jessica, who reached across the table and shook Kim's arm until the young woman opened her eyes and glared balefully at her mother, demanding, "Are you done?"

"Yes."

Kim unplugged one ear. "What?"

"Yes, I'm done."

"I want you to know I'm scarred," Kim pouted, reaching for a piece of toast.

Jessica just giggled, though it occurred to her to wonder why she had taken the joke so far. It was true that she and Paul had never denied their sexual activity or even gone to great lengths to conceal it: it was part of life, after all, and perfectly normal for a couple in love no matter how long they'd been together. The kids had learned to avoid their parents' bedroom when the door was closed, and the occasional question was handled with delicate candor appropriate to the age of the one doing the asking. But they'd never rubbed the kids' faces in it like she'd just done! She was giving her daughter details about her parents' sexual activities in an explicit way, which would have mortified her at any other time. It was as unlike her as could be imagined, but this morning it had felt so natural, like Kim was a peer and not a daughter! Why in the world had she done that?

With a mental shrug, she looked over her shoulder to the beach where Ryan and Lexy were romping in the sand, him chasing her and then her chasing him in a game they seemed to be improvising on the spot. She watched the dark-skinned, long-legged, graceful girl elude her son's pursuit with seeming ease; Ryan was a dolphin in the water, but swimmers didn't train for speed on land. Time and again he would get close and then, with a kick like a champion filly, Lexy would suddenly be ten feet away and laughing at him over her shoulder. She would only be caught when she permitted herself to be caught (which was, to be fair, quite often) when Ryan would wrap his strong arms around her and hoist her into the air, both teens laughing and squealing, delighted to be in each other's presence.

Jessica knew that the two kids were having sex, and had been since almost the day they met on the island. It had never been something that bothered her: Ryan hadn't been a virgin for some time - she knew because the condoms she and Paul silently provided him needed frequent replenishment - and it was natural for two teenage bundles of unrestrained hormones to explode in each other's presence in a situation like this, a temporary and exotic place far from expectations or consequences. In fact, she had been proud of the confidence her son had displayed in going after the Spanish girl and obvious affection and care he showed when they were together.

But in the days they had been here, it had never occurred to her to wonder just how their time together went, just what was done by whom. This morning, though, gazing at the pair frolicking on the sands, her mind went there without restraint or conscious thought.

Of course Lexy sucked his cock and he probably went down on her as well. And they fucked, with those long brown legs wrapped around his slim waist and firm, powerful butt. Why, Jessica could almost visualize it, her son's thick, meaty cock plunging between soft, pink lips.

When he made her come, did she gasp his name? Did she whisper something in Spanish, although she spoke the Queen's tongue with an impeccably posh English accent? And how did he fuck her? Was he gentle and sweet in the missionary position, or did he take her hard and rough from behind like Paul had taken Jess that morning, pounding her until she walked with conspicuous stiffness and had problems sitting?

When he came, did he fill the condom or did he rip it off and spray his thick, pearly, delicious seed across her firm young breasts or her deeply tanned face? Did Lexy gently suck him clean afterward, or maybe use her lips to bring him back hard again so he could fuck her one more time...

She shook her head to chase the thoughts away. She knew she shouldn't be thinking those kinds of thoughts about her son and his temporary girlfriend so she made herself stop and forced her thoughts into more normal channels like getting together later with the other engineers' wives for drinks and gossip. But for some reason it didn't occur to her to wonder where those vivid erotic thoughts had come from in the first place, just like it didn't occur to her to wonder at the subtle but lingering feelings of jealousy those thoughts had given her, or at the fact that she was suddenly very aroused. It all just seemed natural.

At that moment on the beach, Lexy was hanging off Ryan's neck and he was spinning her in a circle as they both laughed. "You're mad!" Lexy squealed. "We can't do that on the beach!"

"Just a quick blowjob," Ryan insisted with a lascivious smile. "We're all alone out here, who's even going to know?"

"We just had sex a few minutes ago. How can you already be so desperate that you want to get caught?"

"I don't want to get caught, I want to risk getting caught. It's completely different and way hotter."

She squirmed out of his grasp and dropped into the sand, landing on her feet and using him to steady herself. "But when you risk getting caught, one of the things that can happen is that you get caught. Your sister is always on the beach around this time. Do you really want her to find us with your polla in my mouth? How long would she tease you about that?"

"Forever," he conceded grudgingly. "But it might be worth it. Wouldn't it be exciting?"

"Maybe," she nodded, "but it would also be mad."

"But I'm a hero," Ryan insisted. "Shouldn't a hero be able to get a beach blowjob when he wants one?"

"You're my big damn hero and I already appreciated that today. I'll appreciate it again later. Anyway, you were so drunk last night that I can't believe you want to do anything but lie about and moan."

"I wouldn't mind lying about if you were the one making me moan," he grinned as he grabbed her ass. The truth was that his hangover, utterly brutal when he had awakened after that insanely erotic dream, had faded quickly after he'd eaten a huge breakfast and hydrated with a vengeance. He expected to feel like crap all morning long at least, but apparently being young and vigorous had its benefits! "And I feel great. Come on, feel how hard I am."

Lexy pulled her hand away when he guided it to his groin. It was true that he was very, very hard, like it never went down at all after he'd screwed her inside the damaged beach bar first thing in the morning. He had taken her with real ferocity, harder and more savagely than he ever had before - so much so that she was walking almost as funny as Jess was this morning. If the bartender hadn't come along and booted them out as soon as they had finished, she would happily have dropped to her knees for him in the bar and sucked him off then and there (she loved the taste of her own pussy on his cock) but as it was they were out here exposed, and she didn't want to take the chance. "How about we go someplace a little more private? The woods, or back to your room?"

"I don't even know if I can walk that far. I'm hard as steel right now!" Normally when a teenager said such a thing it was hyperbole in an effort to get laid, but there was truth to it this time: he was so hard, and his balls ached so much for a release, that walking even as far as the nearby hotel seemed like an ordeal. "Come on, isn't there anything you can do?"

"Well...maybe there is something less conspicuous than me getting down on my knees for you."

"Name it, babe."

"Well," she said quietly, stepping up next to him and resting her hand on his erection, "I can jerk you off. Would that be alright?"

"We can be caught doing that as much as a blowjob," he reminded her.

"But this way I'm on my feet," she reminded him. "You put your arms around me and it will look like you're only hugging me, and meanwhile I can keep an eye out for anyone coming our way...like your sister."

A handie wasn't nearly as good as a blowie, but beggars couldn't be choosers and at the moment he was close to begging, so he nodded. "Thanks, babe."

With a grin she stepped up to him and slipped her hand down the front of his swimsuit, wrapping her fingers around the rock-stiff cock that had given her so much pleasure over the past couple of weeks. She began moving her hand up and down and he sighed gratefully as he wrapped his arms around her. Just a few minutes later his happy sighs turned deeper and more guttural and he felt his balls tighten and fill his swimsuit with a gigantic load of warm semen. Lexy withdrew a sticky hand and grinned. "Better, my hero?"

"Better," he nodded with a grin. "But now I need to go back to the hotel and change."

"And I am going to take a little dip in the ocean and clean up," she laughed, watching the sun glint off the cum that was running down her hand. "Go on, hurry, and meet me back here."

Ryan pulled off his baggy beach shirt and tied it around his waist as he scurried back to his room. In just a few minutes he was in his shower - miracle of miracles, there was warm water! - rinsing off. He had been right: being out in public like that made even a simple handjob feel much hotter! So much so, in fact, that the mere memory of it was rapidly bringing him back to full length. Damn, three rock-hard erections in just half an hour! Where was all this horniness coming from?

He rinsed out his swimsuit and stowed them in the dirty laundry (the hotel did offer laundry service, albeit only cold water washing), pulled on another suit, put his shirt back on, and headed back to find his girl. He had another problem for her to take care of!

Ryan actually whistled as he walked down the hallway, He just felt really good. When was the last time he felt this energetic, this on-top-of-the-world? He couldn't remember ever being this happy. It must be a side effect of the incident yesterday; after all, if leaping into a raging river and rescuing a kid didn't improve your self-image, nothing would. Did firemen feel this way all the time? What about those Coast Guard dudes who leaped out of helicopters into storm-swept oceans to keep people from dying? Those dudes must be riding an endorphin high 24/7!

Turning a corner, he ran smack into a solid object - a person, he realized as they rebounded from each other, and then a moment later amended that to Shit, that's mom! as she went down backwards and landed on her ass, legs splayed and skirt rising up to her hips to reveal a strip of pink panties at her crotch. She squeaked a surprised protest and then he was on one knee next to her asking, "Mom, you OK?"

"Oh, so that's how you greet your mother in the morning, like a professional wrestler doing a body slam! Help me up, you big goof," she teased, looking up at her offspring. Ryan immediately stood and held out a hand...and then his eyes flicked down to her lower half, where her skirt was still inappropriately high and her bare legs and panty-clad hips were revealed, and even an inch of pale tummy above the waistband of her underwear. She blinked in surprise at seeing him blush, then looked down and realized her current state of (un)dress. "Come on, help me up!" she said...though she didn't even realize that she didn't pull her dress back down over her panties like she would have immediately done at any other time.

Shaken from reverie, Ryan blushed even deeper and took her hand, hoisting her to her feet so that her skirts dropped down to where they belonged again. "Sorry mom, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

"Well you'd better start. That was like being hit by a car!" she half-teased him. "If I was one of those skinny little women some of the engineers are married to, you'd have put me through a wall!"

"I know, sorry," he said sheepishly. "I was just distracted. Are you OK?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she said with a breezy wave of her hand. "My butt's a little sore, but that's all." Truth be told, she doubted that a little fall like that would add anything to the discomfort left by Paul pounding her ass like a woodpecker after ants, but she enjoyed the prospect of making Ryan feel a little guilty; after all, he did need to be more careful when running through the halls. "What were you in such a hurry about?"

"Oh, Lexy is waiting for me."

Jess could only laugh. "Of course, nothing could make you move faster than that." She was about to tell him to go on when out of the blue she threw her arms around him in a big, firm hug. His body felt wonderful against hers, strong and powerful, young and hard -

Oh. Very hard indeed!

She really couldn't be surprised by that. He was a vigorous 18-year-old boy, which meant he got erections for any reason or no reason at all, and right now he was heading for a hot European girl. It wasn't even the first time she had felt his erection in a hug, since the presence of a warm body, any warm body, against his was one of the surest ways to produce a boner, and she had long since learned not to make a big deal out of it; it didn't mean anything. It was the first time, however, that her natural, unthinking response was to keep pressing herself against it and feel it poking into her stomach, with the only thing in her mind being how nice it felt to have a good, stiff boner applying pressure...and it didn't seem to matter as much as it should have that the good, stiff boner was attached to her son.
For his part, Ryan felt his dick press up between their two bodies and assumed that his mother would unostentatiously end the hug like she usually did in these awkward occasions, but when she didn't he simply put his arms around her waist and held her there, her warm body feeling wonderful against his. With a happy sigh he tucked her head under his chin and held her like he would have held a date. It didn't strike him as inappropriate or even incongruous; it just felt good and right, so good and so right that it didn't occur to him to wonder why. After almost two minutes of standing that way, she finally lifted her head away from him, peering into his face with a smile - and froze. To both mother and son it suddenly occurred that this was the time and position where a man usually put his lips on a woman's and kissed her. Jess felt her breathing quicken as Ryan twitched against her stomach, and she even parted her lips a bit in anticipation as he began to lower his head to hers -

And then he kissed her forehead in an affectionate but thoroughly appropriate gesture, and then spell was broken. They stepped away from each other a few inches and grinned at each other as though nothing unusual had happened. Ryan said, "Well, Lexy is waiting for me."

"And I have to pee like a racehorse," Jess nodded, her mind whirling at how close she had just come to tongue-kissing her own son.

"Didn't need to know that, but don't let me stop you." Ryan stepped aside and watched his mother go past him, heading for her room. It was then that he noticed that she was walking oddly, and he would have said it was because of the fall except for the fact that he knew the sort of walk because he had made Lexy do it a couple of times, including that very morning. His mom, he realized, had been absolutely railed recently.

The fact that his mother and father were having sex (and it never occurred to him to wonder if it had been some other man) didn't strike him as odd - the walls at home weren't quite as soundproof as his parents assumed - but this time his mind didn't just glide over the details the way it always had in the past. Instead, he found himself wondering what his mother was like in the bedroom - was she flirty, teasing his father until he lost control and crammed his cock down her throat? Was she submissive and meek, always responsive to his father's desires and willing to do anything he wanted her to, no matter how depraved? Or maybe she was the one in control, demanding that Paul service her?

He had overheard enough at home to know that she was vocal, though neither loud nor a screamer, and he knew that they both enjoyed sex with each other and had it frequently. But what was she like in bed? Did she like to lie on her back and wrap her long legs around her husband's hips while he ground his way into her sweet, wet slit? Did she like to be on top, with her big, pale tits bouncing as she rode him? Or maybe she was like Lexy and she preferred her tits swinging beneath her as she took it from behind, pushing back into his father as eagerly as he pushed into her? Did she like sucking cock, locking eyes with her man while inch after inch of his manhood disappeared into her throat?

And that hot, wet pussy surely tasted different from any he had had before, muskier and more mature - did Paul savor it as he went down on her? Did she prefer cum on her sweet, pretty, upturned face, or maybe on her gorgeous breasts? Maybe she liked it on her ass if she preferred it from behind? Or did she like it deep inside her so she could feel it trickling out of her as she went about her day?

Well, he couldn't stand here all day wondering about his mom's sexual preferences (and he didn't even mentally remark on how unprecedented it was that he wonder at all) because Lexy was waiting for him. And if he'd been hard before, he was painfully so now. Little Miss Garza was gonna get wrecked when he got his hands on her, and he was going to make her love it. He glanced furtively in all directions to make sure the coast was clear, then sneakily adjusted his erection so as to be less...jutting, then turned and headed for the hotel exit. He had a sweet Spanish princess to fuck.

For Jess, the horniness that had been hers all morning long was now overpowering. She wasn't sure why, but it had driven her from the breakfast table with a desperate, longing itch that absolutely demanded to be scratched, and there was only one place she could do that with propriety. She'd been heading back to her room when she'd run into Ryan, and now she was even more desperate for relief after feeling a nice hard cock held against her for so long. Her brain was too addled to note that the cock in question belonged to her son - right now she had room for only one thought. She threw open her bedroom door, hung the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the knob, and locked it behind her, then made for her suitcase in the closet.

She had known that proximity to Paul would make her randy but that he would often be too busy to take care of her, so she had packed a friend - a six inch latex friend, in fact. She pulled it from her suitcase in the closet and stripped herself of her clothes as she made her way to her bed. Barely a minute after she had entered the room she was lying naked on her bed, legs spread wide as she sank those six inches into herself. An orgasm came quickly but her arousal didn't diminish so she didn't stop at one, and an hour later she was still there, ramming herself blind and wishing it were a real cock - Paul's, certainly, though she wasn't really thinking of whom she'd want the cock to be attached to. She just needed to be filled!

Ryan and Lexy spent the day on or near the beach. Swimming in the sea, fucking in the strip of woods on the other side of the beach road, tanning, fucking in a rented sailboat, sailing in a rented sailboat, eating a big lunch on the hotel deck, taking a long walk on the beach to help digestion, fucking in the woods again, swimming, playing beach volleyball with others from the hotel (Lexy watched and cheered because by then she was just too sore for that kind of activity), a long dinner at the hotel, another fuck in a copse of woods next to the hotel (though Lexy was too sore to really enjoy it), a party on the beach with the other young people at the hotel and the young islanders who lived close enough to partake), and then a lingering kiss goodnight wherein Ryan tried to talk Lexy into another fuck but only succeeded in getting a sore-jawed blowjob in a dark corner.

And after all that hard, driving sex, Ryan was still so horny that he had to jerk off twice before he could sleep, both times to thoughts of that faceless yet too-familiar woman he'd dreamed of the night before.

Jess spent the afternoon with the Frauen-Trinkclub, the multinational collection of wives of the the various engineers and other foreigners constructing the new luxury resort on the other side of the island. They were a convivial group who liked to watch the ocean and gossip as they lingered over their cocktails. Only a couple of them, like the dissolute Bostonian Trish Hendricks, had problems with drinking too much, though most of them had a pretty good buzz on by their time their husbands got back from work. Jess enjoyed the group because she was learning a smattering of words from the ladies' native tongues; she now knew Danish words like røvhul, German words like Fotze, Spanish words like conchetumadre, and Czech words like sraèka, all of which she was sure would be useful in polite conversations back home; in return she had taught them fuckbucket, which was what a particularly "available" girl had been called in her high school.

She tried to focus on conversation this afternoon, but she was distractingly horny, as she had been all day - her masturbation marathon earlier had only seemed to whet her appetite, not sate it. As she sat on the deck with her cosmo she found she kept losing focus on the conversation and banter as her thoughts slipped to Paul and what he had between his legs - or, more often, to the dream she had had last night and the perfect man in it. Waking up as horny as she had been this morning had just seemed to set the tone for the day!

In the late afternoon as the sun was sinking, the husbands started returning and the wives began peeling away to join their families for dinner. As usual, Paul, being the boss, arrived with the last batch of men, and Jess bounded across the deck and into his arms. "God I missed you today, baby!"

"I missed you too," he said with a chuckle as he embraced her. "Did you have a good day?"

"All day long all I could think about was fucking," she whispered. "Come on, let's go to our room."

Paul was hungry and tired but he wasn't enough of a fool to turn down that offer from the woman he loved so much, so they disappeared into the hotel. They didn't come back for 45 minutes, when they reappeared freshly showered and glowing from a fervent and very good screw. Even the fact that Jess had needed to think about her dream before she could come couldn't take the edge off of her dazzling smile.

After dinner there was the customary split of young people partying on the beach while the older folk - Jess and Paul included - mingled on the deck in a low-intensity cocktail party. That was when Trish Hendricks once more drunkenly approached Jessica about getting her permission to sleep with Ryan, only to once more be politely but definitely shot down. But Jess' mind wasn't on the party, and long before things wound down she had dragged Paul away to their bed for another lust-fueled romp that lasted until they were both exhausted and lying in each other's arms in sheets soaked in sweat (among other things).

Day Three

Ryan awoke in sheets soaked with his sweat, still gasping from the throes of a powerful orgasm that left his whole body quivering and weak. His first conscious thought, after clearing his head of an endorphin-fueled erotic haze, was That dream again!

A glance at the clock told him that it was just after 3:00 AM, and the room was still dark. With a stifled groan he threw his arm over his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but the images from the dream were still too powerful. It had been just the same dream as the night before, just as powerful and just as sensual: a perfect, tanned brunette whose face he couldn't remember but felt like he ought to, giving him the best blowjob he'd ever had in his life while he devoured her pussy like a starving man, in a strange version of the living room in the family's Milwaukee home where furniture magically appeared where and when necessary. At least this time it wasn't a wet dream -

Oh. Oh wait. Yes it was. A very wet dream.

With a defeated moan, he stood and shucked his underwear, then trudged to the bathroom to clean up. The cold water from the sink didn't dent his still-rampant erection, which hadn't gone down even a bit in spite of the fact that his knees were still wobbly from the climax he just had. What the hell was wrong with him? All yesterday he had been constantly aroused, and no amount of sex and no number of climaxes was enough to quell him, and tonight seemed like more of the same. Maybe there was some native plant he'd brushed up against or something that could explain this? If so he could bottle it and knock Viagra off the shelves. He'd thought it was just from having a near-death experience, but that couldn't explain all of this. He'd have to talk to the hotel staff about seeing a doctor, because if a four hour erection was dangerous, he didn't even want to think about what a twenty-four hour boner would do to his most precious parts.

Of course, touching some unknown aphrodesiac wouldn't explain the dream - not why it happened, not why it repeated, and certainly now why it featured some chick he felt it was vital to recognize. It also wouldn't explain why it was so damned powerful! He had had tons of sex dreams (he was a healthy teenage boy, and teenage boys don't stop thinking about sex for ten minutes straight whether awake or asleep). Many of those dreams had involved much more sex and situations that ought to be more erotic than the one he'd just repeated, but none of them could hold a candle to it.

Who was the woman in his dream? For some reason, Ryan was certain that if he knew that, the mystery of the dream and its potency would be cleared up. But in spite of the fact that he could remember her flawless young body perfectly, the face was a maddening haze. The funny thing was, in spite of the fact that he was sure he didn't know anyone with a body that amazing, he was also sure that he did know the woman in the dream, that she was someone he would recognize, even someone he was very close to. And for some reason he didn't understand, it felt imperative that he find out.

Ugh, forget it. He was exhausted and even more than sex he just wanted to get some sleep. He slipped into a new pair of boxer-briefs and went back to bed. Just a few minutes later he was fast asleep again, and this time his erotic dreams were the normal kind, about Lexy and cheerleaders and his sexy social studies teacher back home. They weren't nearly as exciting as his other dream, though.

At the moment Ryan had awakened from his dream, Jessica had done the same. Unlike her son though, she had awakened with an orgasmic cry that seemed shockingly loud in the still room, and the last echoes of her climax were still sending electric ripples through her body even as she forced herself to be silent. That dream again!

Chest still heaving and massive breasts still rising and falling, she forced herself to be quiet and listen. The quiet of night reigned. Nobody was pounding on the walls telling her to keep it down for Chrissakes. Next to her, Paul seemed to have been partially roused, but even as she listened she heard his breathing become slow and regular as he drifted back into a deeper sleep.

As her senses gradually returned, she became aware of a smell and a feeling, and a hand sent down her body confirmed that once again that dream had made her squirt. She had never squirted in her life and now she had done it twice. on consecutive nights and both times from the same dream. It was just a damned dream! Why was it so powerful? Why was she sure she could still taste her dream man's seed in her mouth, and why the hell was it deliciously addictive? In spite of the fact that her orgasm had been so strong that it left every nerve tingling and raw, she was sure that the thought of that cum in her mouth and a light touch between her legs would send her into another climax.

She had to cool down, and since that was the only thing the showers around here were good for, that was where she headed. She was naked - she had fallen asleep wrapped around Paul's nude body in post-orgasmic bliss the night before - so there were no clothes to shed on her way into the bathroom. Her inner thighs were so slick it felt as though she had wet herself. In light of that, it was understandable that she didn't realize that that her wet flesh smelled like the cologne her son had been wearing the night before.

"Carlos Ruiz Zafón."

"Who is that?" Ryan asked with a frown.

"He's a famous Spanish writer," Lexy replied.

"Well I never heard of him."

"How many Spanish writers have you heard of?"

"Oh, fine," he grumped. "You just did that to stick me with another Z. Ummmm...oh, Zora Neale Hurston."

"Who is that?" Lexy asked with a frown.

"She's a famous American writer."

"Well I never heard of her."

"How many American writers have you heard of?"

"A lot! But not her. So is that N or H?"

"H," he replied. He and Lexy had spent a lot of time together since he'd arrived on the island, but not enough to feel comfortable with extended silences. To fill them, Lexy had started a game with him on the second day, one she called "Antonio Banderas." It began with her saying that name and then, because the last name ended with a B, he had to name a celebrity whose first name started with a B. It was a fun little time-filler and it had been easy at first, with however many thousands of celebrity names rattling around in both their heads, but they were still on the same game and since you couldn't repeat names, it had gotten exasperatingly hard on some letters, with Z being a prime candidate. They didn't play it continuously, but when an awkward pause entered conversation it would begin again.

By this point the game often led to long pauses while one person wracked their brain trying to come up with a name, but the pauses weren't awkward because neither one was expecting the other to converse. This was one of those times - they'd hit the Hs hard and the low-hanging fruit was gone - so while Lexy frowned into the middle distance and pondered, Ryan thought.

He was lucky. This whole trip was an adventure like none of the other kids in his senior year would have. He was spending a whole month in a tropical paradise yet-unspoiled by tourists - in a couple of years when the resort complex opened, the character of this whole place would change. Hell, the quaint little run-down hotel with no hot water or air conditioning would certainly go out of business or be forced to upgrade. People would stop swimming in the ocean in favor of swimming pools (why anyone would choose to swim in a pool next to the ocean he would never understand). Ranu Ratu would become just like every other South Pacific tourist trap - hell, those nice people he had met the day before yesterday with their unspoiled native ways would all end up busing tables in restaurants or flipping cards in casinos.

He thought again of the events of the day before yesterday, of the drive (picturesque), the rescue (honestly just a blur or adrenaline and rushing water), and the ceremony. Especially the ceremony. For someone who was such a disbeliever of all religions, it was a shock how meaningful the whole thing was. Of course it must have been mostly the fervor of the thankfulness the people displayed. It had been important to them, so it had become important to him and to his mother. That must have been why it had been looming so large in his thoughts all day.

Almost as large, in fact, as his ever-present horniness. In point of fact, he was suffering a little - he was just as wound up today as yesterday, and he had been wound up past all recognition yesterday. With as often as his dick got used yesterday it ought to feel like raw hamburger today, but it didn't. He was raring to go, in fact. The problem was that Lexy, who had been such a trouper with his demands the day before, was too pummeled purple in the privates to handle him today - not many older women could handle the treatment he'd given her, much less 18-year-olds. But his balls felt like they were going to rupture, and he was going to have to do something about it soon even if Lexy wouldn't. She had given him a handy when she saw him this morning and promised him a blowjob later if he didn't pester her about it, but that did little to take the edge off. Thinking about it just made it worse...and that was another reason why he kept thinking of the ceremony: it wasn't about sex.

Only it was, wasn't it? That had been the whole point of it, to turn him and his mom into sex machines for each other. Crazy! As though he could ever be turned on by his mom, with her huge, full tits, her long legs, or the sweet, tight, wet little twat he was sure she had. As if. A misunderstanding, and a hysterical one (though humiliating for the poor old man whose grandchild - or was it great-grandchild? - he had saved), and he would have a great story when he got back to Milwaukee in a little over a week if there were anyone he dared tell it to.

But maybe, just maybe, there had been something in the smoke they'd breathed that had cranked his libido up to 11. What had the old dude said? Those flowers were rare and almost never bloomed, let alone at the same time? Scientists were always finding plants and stuff that had crazy chemicals inside them so who knew what was in those things. Maybe they were like super-aphrodisiacs or something, like they got into your brain and really activated the arousal centers. If that was the case, then it was just a lingering high that would go back to normal before long. Today, maybe tomorrow, he would be back to the level of unrelenting horniness that was normal for a teenage boy.
But...why would anyone look at him and his mom and think they were a couple? She was obviously older than he was! Not that there was anything wrong with an older lady and a younger guy, but come on! Anyone could tell they were different generations. Admittedly he did look older than his age by a few years and his mom's face could pass for someone in their late 20s or early 30s in the right light. But obviously they were not a couple. There was no way anyone who could think he'd be tapping someone that old...no matter how hot she was...no matter how her tits would sound slapping against her body as she got fucked savagely from behind...and definitelty no matter how sexy her O face was when she came at the same moment a cock was putting a huge load of potent cum deep in her fertile, unprotected pussy -

"Ryan!"

Lexy's voice ripped him from his reverie. "Huh?"

"For the fifth time, Heather Morris."

For a long moment, Ryan sat baffled. Heather Morris? Who was that and why Lexy saying it to him? Oh, the game, right. "Heather...who's that?"

"She was on Glee. Brittany, I think?"

"Uh. Never watched that. OK, Morris, you said? So I need an M..."

The sun beat down with especial tropical ferocity that early afternoon, and the Frauen-Trinkclub was huddled on the deck around a pair of tables, beneath a pair of even bigger umbrellas. Jess had to avoid the sun or burn to a crisp, but even the ladies with deep tans were avoiding it this afternoon - they'd laid out earlier and would lie out again after the worst of the sun had passed.

On the other side of the island, their men were no doubt laboring hard in the heat and solar rays; this occasioned some sympathetic talk amongst the wives, but did not dominate conversation. The ladies were concerned with other things, like the latest celebrity news and the best places to swim on the island. A couple of them - like Trish Hendricks - were more taken up with which hotel staff might be willing to entertain a married woman, but then two of the wives were in more-or-less open marriages and Trish was a slut who didn't seem to care whether or not her husband knew what she got up to when he wasn't around. Jess couldn't imagine being that way. Not that she would be averse to a monstrous dicking down right about now. She was as randy as a queen cat in heat. Paul was in for it when he got back from work today!

The conversation moved to other topics - police in their various countries and whether they could be trusted, their favorite meals at their favorite restaurants, shoes, and more. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and it occurred to Jess that she would miss most of these ladies when she left in just over a week. She had plenty of good friends at home (even if effectively being a single parent with Paul away meant that she had much less time to see them) but there was something about sitting on the deck of a slightly decrepit beachfront hotel on a remote tropical island while getting sloshed with women from around the world that made the whole thing memorable. They were a good group of gals and -

"Because Jessica is being such a prissy bitch about it."

That yanked her from her reverie, and she looked at the smiling Trish Hendricks who had just spoken. "What?"

"See? She's not even paying attention to me," Trish smirked. "I was just telling the ladies that you're being overly protective of your son. I could teach him things that would make his socks roll up and down like a cartoon wolf's."

"Like the delights of chlamydia?" suggested Felicia, the British woman, with a perfectly straight face.

"Quiet, bitch," Trish said, though she couldn't help but grin at the joke. "No, I mean how to please a real woman. That little girl he's running around with can't show him anything. A couple sessions with me and he'll be able to score any MILF he wants and leave her begging for more."

Jessica took off her huge sunglasses and stared at Hendricks. "Trish, I want you to listen closely. Are you listening? No."

Erika, the German, said, "She doesn't need your permission, you know. Only his."

"Oooh, true!" Trish nodded vigorously. "As soon as I can get him away from that Spaniard I'm going to be riding his bones like you wouldn't believe."

"How many layers of condoms do you think he would need to be safe with Trish?" mused Kendra, the Canadian woman. "Five? Six?"

"I think he would need a whole-body condom," suggested the Danish woman Vilde.

"Or a hazmat suit," Jess said.

"Screw you bitches," Trish laughed. "I got tested right before I came here and I was clean as a whistle, and I've used condoms every time here. Well, except that one time with that Aussie bulldozer driver...oh, and that time with the bartender of the beach bar. And the maid...but you can't get a disease from 69ing with a girl every morning, can you?"

"I...can't tell if you're joking or telling the truth," Jessica sighed. "Somehow that makes it all worse."

"I'm a woman of mystery," Trish replied, sipping at her third pineapple mimosa of the day.

It was then that Rori, the Czech wife, asked, "Jess, what skin cream have you been using?"

That set off a round of cum facial jokes before Jessica replied, "Nothing really, just moisturizer and sunscreen. Why?"

"Because your face is looking really good," Rori said. "Your neck looks great."

"Thanks," Jess replied, though she wasn't quite sure where that compliment came from - she hadn't studied her reflection in a couple of days since the traumatic experience in the mirror from two days before, but she knew her own neck creases well enough to be dubious of compliments. "I haven't been doing anything different. It must be the light."

"No, she's right," Kendra said, peering closely. "Your skin looks awesome, like you're five years younger."

The other women chimed in then, noting that the creases and bags around her eyes had notably lessened and even her hands looked better. Jessica found the whole thing bewildering but accepted the compliments with grace even though they were nonsense - age was kicking her cellulite-ridden ass and she knew it. The ladies all demanded to know her secret, but they eventually seemed mollified by her insistence that she had only been doing her normal care routine and that it must just be a lucky day. Eventually the conversation did move on, but Jess was left with a happy feeling inside: the average 44-year-old woman didn't have many days where she got bombarded with compliments from other women for 15 minutes.

Half an hour later, Jess was taking the second sip of her bushwhacker cocktail when a black bird with a five-foot wingspan and an enormous orange sac under its beak swooped in and landed on the deck not six feet from Jessica and began pecking at a spray of peanuts that had been dropped by a clumsy waiter some minutes before. Its sudden appearance caused several of the ladies to shriek and jump in their seats - including Rori, who bumped Jessica's shoulder and made Jess spill her ice cream drink all down her front. Waving off Rori's profuse apologies, Jess stood and said, "Don't worry about it! I was scared too."

"I'll buy you another," the Czech hurriedly said.

"Sounds good," Jessica nodded with a smile. "Right now I better go change. Be right back." She hurried back into the hotel, pausing only to linger for a few moments at the spot where she had collided with Ryan the day before. Her boy certainly had become a fine man! If she closed her eyes she could still feel his strong arms around her, holding her to his hard body and the harder thing in his pants.

Wasn't it odd though how they'd seem to come so close to kissing? They'd kissed each other thousands of times over the years - not so much lately, of course, as boys reach a certain age where a smooch on the cheek from mom isn't as welcome as it used to be; still, it was easy to imagine that they'd closed the last inches between them and pressed their lips together, that their lips had parted and their tongues had met, twirling with increasing fervor as their hands ran all over each other right in the hallway where anyone could see -

She shook her head and giggled uncomfortably. She knew she was crazy horny, but she didn't think she was crazy enough to imagine making out in public with her own son! She definitely needed to take the edge off!

Moments later in her room she pulled her clothes off in a frantic rush, dug through her suitcase for her vibrator, and dropped onto the bed with a hungry grin. Just a few hours before in this very spot she had jumped Paul as he awakened and begged him to take her hard, begged him to fuck her like a slut, to fuck her like he'd paid for her; Paul had complied, first in doggy and then in missionary where he'd drilled her through the mattress and out the other side. And somehow it still felt like she hadn't been laid in a year! What was wrong with her lately (or, as Paul would no doubt put it, what was right)? She'd spent the last two days in an erotic haze, unable to think of anything for long except where her next orgasm was coming from - and it always seemed to come from the same place: her recollection of her dreams. How many times had she come from thinking about that in the last two days? A dozen at least. Stupid dream...

She came to the thought of the perfect mystery man sucking on her clit as she throated his big, delicious cock, and she arose from bed with a smile on her face. Tucking her vibe and her clothes away, she went into the bathroom and showered quickly (the cold showers in the hotel were about the only thing that stood a chance of cooling off her libido even temporarily right now).

Afterward she looked in the mirror to reapply her makeup, and she couldn't help but examine her face to maybe see what the ladies were talking about. "I don't see any diff...wait..."

Because she did see a difference. Her face and neck had weathered the aging process better than the rest of her, but there had still been causes for worry: creases at the corners of her eyes, slight bags under the eyes, an incipient wattle developing, all the sorts of things that could take a woman her age from being hot to being aged almost overnight. But now the skin on her neck was actually tighter, softer, younger-looking! Oh, not by much - only she and other women who knew her face well would have noticed it (husbands never noticed these kinds of things, much to the chagrin of wives). But a close examination left no doubt: her neck looked the way it did...what, four or five years ago? Damn, was the tropical sunshine actually doing her skin good somehow?

Her hands, they said her hands looked good. She checked them closely and saw that once more her friends had been right. The skin on her hands had tightened and the wrinkles that had accumulated over the last few years were gone - they could have been the hands of a woman ten years younger than her. Even an age spot that had been coming in on the back of her left hand seemed to be gone entirely! It was the age spot that really got to her, because maybe her hand cream had changed the formula and suddenly started to work better, but she had seen and fretted about that spot just last evening. Nothing short of a laser procedure could delete a liver spot in less than 24 hours! What in the world was going on?

This necessitated a closer inspection of everything, and Jess spent the next 20 minutes in the mirror carefully examining her nude reflection. Except for the spots she'd already seen, everything that had been old and sagging two days ago was still old and sagging. Well, she thought maybe, maybe, the cottage cheese on the backs of her upper thighs had gotten a wee bit less, but she couldn't be sure, and, since that was impossible, she quickly decided that it must have been wishful thinking. There was no such thing as a fountain of youth, and if there was, it certainly couldn't have been found in a run-down old tourist motel on a flyspeck island in the South Pacific!

Apparently her face, neck, and hands were just one of those things, right? The sags and creases and folds would return soon enough, so she should enjoy not having them for a day or two or however long this was to last. She finished putting on her makeup, selected a different dress from her closet, and went back out to join the Frauen-Trinkclub.

The sounds of the evening beach party were fading behind them as Ryan and Lexi walked away hand in hand toward the hotel, trying to look casual. By this point there was little reason for the pretense because everyone who cared knew they were having sex almost constantly, but sneaking away added to the thrill. Forbidden, after all, was sexy. "So," Lexy asked, "my room or yours?"

"Mine tonight," Ryan said. "Your mattress has that one spot where the spring pokes through and I always end up lying on it."

"So my fingernails aren't the only things to blame for the scratches on your back?"

"They're the main cause but not the only one."

She giggled; she had never actually marked him during sex, though she had come close the day before when he made her come harder than she'd thought possible. "Do you think it's sexy when a girl scratches your back during sex?"

"Getting the scratches would be sexy, having the scratches would just hurt. And put blood spots on my shirt."

"Ohhh, poor baby hero. I promise to be a good girl tonight and not claw you."

"So you changed your mind? We're going to have sex?"

"Just because I'm not walking oddly anymore doesn't mean I've healed," she mock-scolded him. "You've battered me to a pulp. Tomorrow you can have me again...just try to be careful."

"No promises. You get me so worked up."

"If you're careful you can have me many times. If you aren't careful and you bruise me up again, then you have to wait until I heal."

"Well, your mouth is still pretty good."

"Just pretty good?"

"I don't want to inflate your ego."

"Hmmph. I'd make a comment about inflating your cock, but it seems like that's your permanent condition. I'd have thought you'd have worn off the skin yesterday."

"I am mighty," Ryan shrugged. "It would take more than all that to slow me down."

They stopped holding hands before entering the hotel lobby to preserve the illusion that they weren't there to fool around, and Ryan went up to her room a couple of minutes before she followed. The hotel staff looked unimpressed at their charade. He waited by his door with a throbbing dick until she knocked. He opened the door to greet her and before he could say a word, she was shoving him further into the room and kicking the door shut after entering. "Whoa, someone is eager!"

"I'm going to get my vagina licked. Of course I'm eager."

He only had time for a short laugh before they were on each other, kissing eagerly as they pulled at their clothes. In a few seconds they had tumbled naked onto the bed, their limbs intertwining and their hearts already beating faster. It was a treat to fool around in a bed - nobody would care if they always did it in their rooms, but their teenage love of the clandestine, and the fact that they spent a lot of time running around the island, meant that such comfort was actually rare - and they made the most of it, spreading out across the bedspread and relishing the fact of making out where the mosquitoes, flies, and various assorted tropical arthropods couldn't get at them and they didn't have to worry about sand getting into any sensitive body parts.

The kissing didn't last long and in the way of teenagers they spared little time for foreplay. Their clothes came off quickly and bodies entangled and in very little time they were working their way into a 69 position. Each devoured what was in front of them with gusto, with Lexy taking him all the way to his balls and him soon focusing on her clit. It felt wonderful, amazing -

And very quickly, Ryan realized something was...off: as good as it felt, he couldn't come from this. The physical sensations were all there and at any other time it would easily have been enough to take him up and over, but not today. It was weird, inexplicable even, but no matter how good it was, something crucial was missing. He got Lexy off easily and left her trembling on the bed, giggling and panting as he laid there still achingly hard and unfulfilled.

"My poor hero, you haven't come yet," she finally murmured, pushing him onto his back and getting between his legs. "Let Lexy take care of that for you..." She put her mouth to work and, free of distractions from him doing the same to her, was able to really focus on the blowjob in a way that sent his pleasure meter spiking. Turns out, if you spend a couple of weeks with a particular cock in your mouth, you learn how to make that cock feel pretty damned good. For almost a full minute he was sure that this added degree of attention and determination would be enough to get the job done.

And then he realized with dismay that it wasn't going to get it done. This had never, ever happened to him before, and he had no idea what to do about it. There was a stab of panic, a vertiginous moment of teenage dread that he might never come again, a dash of cold water down his spine -

And then it came unbidden and unexpected: a vision of his mother in Lexy's place, devouring his cock with reckless abandon. The chill vanished, leaving heat in its place all throughout his body. The mental picture of his lovely mother with her spray of red hair around her face, naked on knees and elbows, her pale and freckled skin almost glowing in the lamplight - and most of all those huge green eyes locked on his, showing her delight at having her son's cock in her mouth. He could see in her gaze the raw need she had for his cum, the overwhelming eagerness to taste his seed, the virtual demand that he give it to her right now and then again and again and again. He closed his eyes tightly to focus his whole being on the amazing picture in his mind, the most erotic thing he had ever imagined in his life, and within a few heartbeats he was groaning, "Oh fuck oh fuck yes gonna come - "

Upon hearing that, his mother snugged her lips to his pelvis and let her tongue dance along the length of his shaft and around the head, and then he was exploding gout after gout of seed into her throat, cock leaping inside her mouth as her eyes shone with delight and a little smile played at the its corners. The orgasm was blindingly intense, so powerful that it left the room spinning even though he was lying flat on his back.

At that moment, in a beach chair as the nightly party swirled around her and she chatted with Paul while sipping a bushwhacker cocktail (a new favorite), Jessica noticed something in her mouth that wasn't the same consistency or flavor of the rest of the ice cream in the drink. It was warmer, more viscous and...saltier? It was a flavor she knew she recognized but she couldn't place at the moment, and it was perhaps the most delicious thing she had ever tasted in her life.

"Wow, that must be a hell of a drink!" Paul laughed.

"Huh?"

"Your eyes suddenly got huge and you made the yummiest yummy sound I've ever heard from you."

"Oh! Well yes, it is good. Really good," Jess nodded, blushing although she wasn't sure why. "I'll have to find out what the bartender put in it."

Back in his hotel bed with Lexy cuddled up next to him and their light coats of sweat drying in the cool sea breeze that wafted in through the open window, Ryan lay with his eyes wide open. It was a good thing that Lexy's were closed, because if they weren't then she would undoubtedly be wondering why he looked aghast.

What the fuck was that about? Why had he imagined that his mom was sucking his cock? And why had it given him the single greatest orgasm of his life? He had never before imagined doing anything sexual with his mom. He knew it was a fairly common fantasy, especially these days with the omnipresence of taboo porn - hell, he knew several of his friends were jerking it to their moms, even though the fact wasn't really discussed openly. But to him, his mom had always just been his mom, nothing more. Even though he knew she was pretty, and had been prettier back when he was entering puberty, he had never been able to imagine doing things with her. Even when he'd heard his dad plowing her like a corn field in their bedroom back home, it had always been mildly uncomfortable rather than erotic.
So why now, when he had the gorgeous young Lexy slobbering all over his D? And why had it been so powerful an image? Even thinking of it now in the cold rational light of the male post-orgasmic refractory period, it was the hottest goddamned thing he could imagine; hot enough, in fact, that if he thought about it much more he would be hard again. The thought was as seductive as it was repellent, and he ran away from it in his mind as much as he could; to his dismay, he couldn't get away from it.

Lexy stirred at his side. "Oh bloody hell, I nodded off. How long was I asleep?"

"Only a few minutes."

"I'm exhausted," she said, pushing herself into a sitting position and yawning. "I had best go before I fall asleep again and spend the night here."

"You'd better," he agreed. "My door doesn't lock and if Kim walked in on us naked and tangled up together I'd be hearing about it when I'm fifty."

"You should really get your door fixed," she scolded him lightly.

"I've asked like eight times. I'll ask again tomorrow."

She leaned in and kissed him again. He could taste the faint remnants of his cum in her mouth just like she could taste herself in his, but the flavor never bothered him. If he wanted girls to swallow, he couldn't bitch when the taste lingered. "Good night, Ryan. Sleep well."

"You too, gorgeous. Will you feel well enough tomorrow to resume our regularly scheduled activities?"

She giggled. "Yes, I think so. Just take a little more care with her, I don't want calluses down there."

A few minutes later, she had dressed and slipped from his room and he was in the shower (it was managing to be lukewarm, quite a banner achievement). The strange vision of his mother sucking him off wouldn't leave and made him feel dirty no matter how hard he washed. It stuck with him as he dried off and got back into bed. It...it meant something. It wasn't just a random erotic thought, it was more important than that, more...what? More a part of him; no, that wasn't right, but he couldn't come any closer. Fortunately it didn't keep him awake though, and he slipped away into a deep slumber almost as soon as he closed his eyes.

Milwaukee. Home. Living room. White light from outside, neither sunlight nor clouds. White curtains billow. The Man is there, tall, strong, powerful, ready, waiting for inevitability with the subdued excitement of a man meeting his destiny.

Across from him stands the Woman, as naked as the Man, as eager and as calm. Her tanned body, with all its voluptuous curves, beckons him. He goes to her - or perhaps he was next to her all along, strong arms around her, pulling her close to him, feeling her yielding flesh molding itself to his hard muscles.

The time has come at last. What always had to happen was going to happen for the first time in a cycle that had no beginning and no end. From today forward they would be one flesh, one blood, one desire, just as they always had been. When their lips met they felt the same satisfaction, the same perfect joy of being completed, of the last puzzle piece clicking into place. The part of themselves that had always been missing was now joined to them - or shortly would be. And no force on Earth could stop it now.

Their kiss started softly, gently, and grew. In a passage of time that might have been microseconds or might have been an hour, they kissed harder and harder, their lips bruising delightfully, their tongues tangling and untangling, first darting forth into the other's mouth and then drawing back to lure the other's tongue forward. They tasted each other, the savor of the other's saliva tingling perfect in each mouth. Their bodies so close, their mouths so close, their kiss so intense it was like they were trying to pass into each other's skin, pass into each other's soul.

Hands roamed. Their perfect bodies were pressed too close together for fingers to find cock or pussy - the Man's cock was pressed erect in the warm, sweat-slick place between his body and the Woman's - but they touched everywhere else: stroking faces, playing in hair, fingernails drifting down sensitive necks, palms caressing flanks, each finally finding the other's muscular ass to squeeze and pull the other closer, as though such a thing were possible.

And then they were on the bed, end to end, the Woman taking the man into her throat while the Man sucked her clit and fingered her pussy and ass with a skill only a lifetime of familiarity could give. He was already hard as velvet steel and she was already wet as any sea, but this was not about preparing the other for what was to come; this was about pleasure, the pleasure that the Man lived to give the Woman and the Woman lived to give the Man. Each knew the other so thoroughly that they could have made the other climax in moments had that been their goal, but their goal was to rouse every nerve in the other's body for the fulfillment that was coming. Pleasure was its own reward and must not be rushed, not tonight of all nights. For ages they drew the other up to the cliff's edge and made to cast the other over, only to draw them down again, then take it to the summit one more time. Their orgasms, when they finally came, would be life-altering, but that time was not now.

Closer though, as the Man tossed the Woman off of him. She landed on the bed and bounced, giggling as she spread both arms and legs to entice he who needed no enticement. He moved atop of her, letting her feel his weight, letting it sink her into the bed that had been theirs since the beginning of all things. They kissed again and she sucked his tongue as hungrily as she'd sucked his cock moments before, savoring her own flavor from his mouth. Afterward she would have a different flavor, a flavor that could only come from his potent seed mixing with her abundant juices in her fertile vagina, and she would have it off his cock after he had used it to churn their fluids together into a mixture that only they, of all the people who had ever lived, could make.

But that was later. Now the Man kissed her hard, his hand on her full breast, squeezing her nipple, while the Woman rolled her hips against his hard cock, coating it in her juices before it even went inside. Every touch of that hard rod against her delicate folds inflamed them further, and within moments - minutes? Hours? An eternity? - her red, swollen vulva glistened wetly and almost glowed with heat. They both needed him inside her, and prolonging the grinding was only making the need grow.

And at last the time had come. They would be as complete as they could be, as complete as they always had been and always would be. She spread her legs wider as she felt a tremble of excitement in her belly; it was not fear, for she could never fear the Man, but it was thrilling that he would finally take from her the virginity that she had always saved for him, that had always been meant for him and him alone. Of course she was not a virgin, could not be a virgin, but her hymen was as untouched as a new snowfall on a quiet field, and she would give him that.

Their lips were together as the head of the Man's cock nuzzled the Woman's opening. Her hips moved of their own accord, lifting against him, and had she not been a virgin it would have slipped in then - but virgin she was once more, unbroken, pure for him the way she needed to be, and labia remained close and ungaping. This time, this first time, he would need to penetrate her without her assistance. He did not mind. This was all part of the great gift they had been given. His hand left her breast and moved down to wrap his fingers around his shaft, guiding it sight unseen to the portal. They hung there just for a moment as her hands tightened across his back, pulling him close, urging him forward -

And forward he went. There was an instant of resistance and then her maidenhead gave way;the first time she had lost her virginity, to a boy who no longer mattered, there had been pain and an effusion of blood, but now she was far too aroused to feel anything but a slight tug and then the sensation of being filled again for the first time took her breath away. He paused at about halfway inside her, wanting to give her body time to adjust as it had before, smiling down at her with pride and love, and then he slowly pushed deeper, deeper, until he was seated inside her and his balls hung against her perineum and butt. She whimpered but there was joy in it and gratitude that at last she had been joined again with the Man she had always been destined for.

He fell still inside her, feeling her passage spasm against his length, feeling her body tremble against his. His smile was gentle and adoring as he gave her a name, her name, the name she had always yearned for, now hers forever. Her whole body quivered in pleasure to receive it at last, and it quivered again a moment later when he drew back and then pushed in again, and then again, and then again. At long last, as he had always done, he was taking possession of her body and she was willingly and eagerly giving it, just as she was claiming his. Her for him, Man for Woman, always.

Their excitement had not gone down from when they had used their mouths on each other and their orgasms were there for them when they wanted them; so many times before and after this they had made love this way for hours, him perfectly inside her, her squeezing his cock with dexterous muscles, holding themselves and each other at the brink of release until, by mutual unspoken consent, they had brought each other over. This time, though, they would not; though giving her pain, her revirgined insides were stretching in ways unaccustomed, ways that were not yet comfortable much less blissful. It was good to finish it.

Besides, this first time was not about orgasms, though both would receive them. This time was a sign, a symbol, and so much more: this time they would plant a seed that would grow inside of her young, perfect body. Both knew that when the Man came inside of the Woman this time, she would become pregnant, the first time of so many times, the first baby they would give each other. That was why she wrapped her legs around his slim waist and why he ground into her, pushing deep to give his seed the best purchase. So held, he was unable to move, unable to pound her and push her the way they both loved - instead he rolled his hips into her over and over, calling her by her new name, calling her they way he would call her forever. And when the time came, when they came, they hurtled out into the blissful void together, his thick cum racing to find the egg that was waiting, the egg that would make their first child, their first son. Man and Woman moaned together, for no other sound could express their rapture,and the moans and the climax went on and on and on...

Day Four

Ryan awoke in his bed in the dark, feeling his balls contract hard with a pleasure so intense it was intimately mixed with pain. He soaked his top sheet, he soaked the bottom sheet, and he left himself a sperm-ridden mess by the time it was done. The pleasure lingered but faded over the next few minutes, leaving one big muscular ache behind - his balls hadn't contracted, his whole body had, and he was left feeling dehydrated, sore, and sticky -

And horny. Christ, even after a orgasm that had practically turned his balls inside-out, he was still hard. He could come again right now just as hard, and it wouldn't take much, just a good throating by his gorgeous mother -

God damn it! Why did that thought come to him?

He was starting to think that there was something wrong with him - physically wrong as well as the kind of mentally wrong that would make him think about his own mom that way. Even a healthy 18-year-old shouldn't have this constant an erection, shouldn't be as horny as he was every second lately, shouldn't be able to come as much as he just had and be ready to go again without a second's down time. He was going to have to talk to a doctor today.

He pushed himself upright and walked away from the mess he had just made, though he made another as he headed to the bedroom: he'd ejaculated so much that it had gone everywhere and was busily dripping as he walked. Jeez. He couldn't leave all this for housekeeping in the morning, he'd have to clean up the dribbles himself. Not much he could do about the sheets though. When he checked out they'd probably have to burn the mattress.

The coldness of the shower was welcome, but did nothing more than put a temporary dent in his boner; as soon as the shock of it was gone his cock was back at full mast. And that wasn't normal either; he was plenty used to cold water, but he'd never been able to keep an erection in it.

Fuck.

He pondered the dream. Aside from being unspeakably erotic, it had been different. The same perfect woman, the same home-not-home setting, but before they had just done oral while now they had gone all the way. The vividness of the dream had been bewildering - he was sure that if could somehow really be with that dream woman, he would know her every curve, every erogenous zone, every grasping muscle of her pussy. But it wasn't just that, because he was more certain than ever that he knew the woman in real life even though he could only remember her face as a blur; moreover, he had called her a name, one he was sure he had never heard before but one that was hers and hers alone. There was urgency around it all, like he needed to remember name and face and needed to do it soon or else...or else what? He didn't know, but he felt the drive of it like a biological need.

He toweled off and headed back to bed. His last conscious thought was to look at the clock and grumble that he was awake at 3:43 AM.

In a nearby room at that moment, Jess was just getting back into bed next to Ryan after awakening from that so-vivid sex dream and taking her own cold shower. Like her son, she had been dismayed that the water temperature had done nothing to cool off the heat in her womb and in her vagina. The dream had been more intense than on previous nights and had awakened her in the midst of a shockingly intense orgasm. She had actually roused her husband from his sleep with her cries, and she had had to fumble up an explanation of awakening with a leg cramp, and his insistence that he give her a leg massage was only barely brushed off as she ran to the bathroom to shower.

Paul was asleep again; she had taken enough time to make sure that even his well-intentioned staying awake to check on her would be overcome by fatigue. It was odd to be hiding this from the man she had been married to for decades, especially because she had never hidden anything major from him before. And this certainly felt major, like the dreams were of utmost importance, like the identity of the man she was with and the name he had called her were critical. The problem was, the man in her dreams was not her husband, and something about the whole situation made her feel as though maintaining secrecy from him was imperative.

It was so strange, though. They were just dreams. They were weird for any number of reasons, but they were just dreams; besides, all dreams were at least a little weird. Dreams didn't mean anything...did they?

Only these dreams did. She was pretty sure that these dreams did.

She shifted in bed, trying to find a place her squirt hadn't soaked. It was a queen-sized mattress but Paul very definitely took up his half and a little more. Normally that didn't bother her as she would just cuddle up next to him, but that would put her squarely on the spot she'd soaked and she'd be cold and wet all night -

Well, wetter. Despite the recent cold shower, she was already so horny she was leaking. Damn it! Since her mid-30s her sex drive had soared, but this was insane. She had gotten used to wanting sex several times a week from Paul and masturbating about every other day, but this was different - she couldn't think of anything except cock for more than a couple minutes at a time! That wasn't normal for women her age - only teenage boys were supposed to feel that way! Teenage boys like Ryan, with his gorgeous, lean, muscular body and his cock that was always hard and ready to slam into a woman's hungry holes -

FUCK! This was insane. She settled on the edge of the bed and curled up, but sleep was elusive. She tried hard to close her eyes and sleep, but the heat inside her only grew; by 4:30, she was pretty sure she was going to scream if she didn't get a dick inside her immediately. Paul was sleeping, breathing steadily and slowly, flat on his back. And since he loved being awakened with sex as much as she did...

Jess rolled so she was on her other side and squarely on her squirt patch and looked at her husband. The moon was down so only starlight came in through the window, but here so far from the big city the Milky Way was bright enough that she could make out his features. He was so handsome! That face with its chiseled good looks was so peaceful in slumber. She stared at him for almost a minute, a smile on her lips as she did so. She adored him so much.

Gently she took hold of the sheet and began to pull it down. His shoulders bared first, then his chest, then his abdomen and arms. She studied him in the pale white light and saw the valleys of shadow cast by his muscles. When they had met in college he had been an exercise fiend, hard and chiseled as granite. Back then a little flex would pop his abs in a way that had thrilled her (and usually ended with her kissing her way down them as she sank to her knees for him); now the abs were under a layer of...well, not flab, but he was 46 years old and had become a little thicker - just a little, mind, but enough that he had a rather spectacular dad bod. A sprinkling of hair on his chest formed a treasure trail down over that flat stomach, down into the tops of the cotton boxers he was wearing. She grinned as she tugged the sheet lower, revealing the bulge made in his underwear by the wonderful thing she was after, and her grin turned positively feral as she fished his cock out and set her mouth to work.

Of course she knew his cock as well as she knew her own face. Every inch, every vein, every whorl of skin and every single place that made him twitch when she touched or licked or sucked. She felt it hardening under her treatment in the way she was so familiar with, and Paul didn't stir or make a sound as she quickly brought him to full mast. It was about six-and-a-half inches long and her handful around, which was ideal for her; she'd never understood those women who wanted a gigantic dong inside them - how was that supposed to feel good? She'd had an eight-incher one drunken night in college and she was miserable for the whole next day with a bruised and battered cervix. Paul's was perfect for her, and it was ready.

He muttered some one-quarter-awake unintelligible sounds as she carefully maneuvered herself above him, which escalated to half-awake as she reached back, gripped his cock, and aimed it at her opening. She settled down on him with practiced ease, resting her ass on his balls as he finally stirred to full consciousness. "Hey," he muttered, tongue thick and unwieldy with sleep as his hands found her hips. "Good mornin' to you too."

She giggled as she began to rock her hips. "It is a very good morning."

"Early though."

"Want me to stop?"

He laughed. "Maybe. You didn't exactly get consent."

"Maybe I should stop then," giving his shaft a squeeze with practiced pelvic muscles. "On the other hand, maybe you want to throw me on my back, pin me down, and pound me like a naughty slut until you dump a fresh morning load deep inside me. Your choice."
"Hmmm, let me think," he mused. A moment later she gave a stifled shriek of delight as he rolled her over, grabbed her wrists tight in one of his big hands, and kissed her hard. A moment later he was back inside her, hips rising and falling like pistons as she drew her knees up and spread her legs wide.

And right from the start, there was something wrong. She didn't know what it was, because physically everything was as good as it always was with the man she adored. He was a past master at wringing orgasms out of her and he was doing his best to make that happen damned soon. And as horny as she was, it ought to have been easy for her to climb that mountain and sail right over the summit. Lord knew her body needed it! But something was holding her back.

When this happened it was almost always something physical - a weird lump in the bed, hips that needed to be shifted, an angle that needed adjustment. But it was none of those things. Nor was it a stomach ache, a headache, an incipient muscle cramp, or any of the other thousand and one ways a good fuck could be ruined by something trivial. Nor was it her mood or her desire level, because she felt as if she didn't get off soon she'd lose her shit. Eyes closed tightly, barely feeling her beloved husband giving her the pounding she had demanded, she lost herself in the emerging whirl of confused and baffled thoughts that swam up as her brain, almost in a panic, threw up every damned thing it could come up with -

And then the image came. It hit her so hard that had she not already been flat on her back, it would have knocked her there. A vision of the man above her and inside her, perfectly clear and as vivid as though it were actually happening. Only in this vision the man was not the one she had dedicated her life to, the one she had married over two decades before, the one she had loved for so long that anything else seemed impossible.

No. The vision was of the man she had made, her son, her own flesh and blood, and in the vision it was him giving her what she so desperately needed instead of Paul. And when that vision hit and she realized what she was imagining, she suddenly hurtled from confusion and dismay straight to the edge of orgasm. Her shocked cry of delight was drowned in Paul's mouth, but he could not miss the way her hands clasped at his shoulders to pull him in tight or the way her ankles crossed behind the small of his back to keep him so close he could do no more than grind into her. Her son, her perfect Ryan, was fucking her deep and hard, and she had never felt anything more right in her life. There was no room in Jess' mind for anything except how her son's cock felt inside of her, how it completed her in a way she had never known she needed, and only a few motions of her man's hips later she was coming harder than she ever had before, even from the dreams. Her whole body went rigid and all thought fled as sensation became all.

All thought, that is, except for one, and that the most erotic thing that had ever entered her brain: Come inside your mother baby, come inside me tonight and today and forever...

Sometime later, she realized she had been lying in bed panting softly, her body still tingly-numb, her cranium still filled with gauze and soft pink aftershocks. Ryan was no longer atop her, no longer inside her, but her pussy gaped from the fucking he had given her and she could feel her son's seed running out of her -

She jerked her eyes open and lurched to a sitting position like someone waking from a nightmare in a movie. It was dark, the breeze through the window was cool, and Ryan was next to her in bed...no, not Ryan. Ryan hadn't fucked her or given her the greatest orgasm she had ever had. It wasn't Ryan's cum filling her. Who was...Paul. That's right, Paul, her husband, the man she loved -

"Well that was spectacular," Paul said with a chuckle. "You must really have needed it, because you've never been that wild. I thought you were gonna rip it off!"

Still bewildered, Jess managed a smartassed, "I do my Kegels religiously."

"I can tell. I think you bruised it."

She heard herself giggle, but her mind was far away, already worrying at the fact that she had come that hard from imagining sex with her son. No, that she had imagined sex with her son at all - and that the scene she imagined was without a doubt the most erotic thing that had ever entered her mind. It was also the sickest, most perverted, and most completely disgusting thing she had ever imagined as well. There was something wrong in the head of any mother who would think such a thing, much less get off on it!

But it was hard to think. The exhaustion from missed sleep suddenly hit her hard, and to her very great surprise she realized that for the first time in three nights and days she wasn't horny. In fact, her afterglow was warm and fuzzy like a fleece blanket on a winter night, and no matter how revolted with herself she tried to be, sleep swallowed her up in just a couple of minutes.

Ryan checked his hair in the mirror one last time. A single lock of hair on the right side of his head was doing something weird, sticking out in a curlicue and making him look like more of a dork than usual. He had wet it and combed it several times, and he could almost hear that lock of hair laughing at him. He considered using some product - he had gel and mousse - but they were both water-based and wouldn't last long in the ocean that he loved to swim in, the rain that fell in brief torrents every day, or even if he worked up a sweat on this tropical island where it was always hot and humid. After a period of fussing he told his reflection, "Well fuck you too," grabbed his Green Bay Packers ball cap, and nestled it onto his head. That would do. He adjusted his chubby so it wasn't so blatant, walked to the door and opened it, only to see Trish Hendricks standing a foot away from him with her hand raised as if she was about to strike him. Not too proud to avoid a blow to the head, he leaped back with a startled, "Whoa!"

She lowered her hand and chuckled. "There you are. I was just about to knock. Good morning."

"You scared the hell out of me," he laughed self-consciously. "Good morning, Mrs. Hendricks."

She put a hand on a cocked hip and smirked. "I think you should call me Trish, don't you?"

He didn't particularly think that, but he nodded. "OK, Trish. How are you?"

"I'm waiting for you to invite me in."

"Oh...uh, OK. Come in. Have a seat, I guess?" The only places to sit were the bed and a single chair (unless she chose the floor, which he didn't expect). In the event she chose the bed, and didn't sit so much as lie on her side propped up on her elbow, which gave him a rather impressive view up her tanned legs to where her lacy red panties peeked from beneath a very short tennis skirt. It was obvious that she wanted him to look, and while he was very sure he shouldn't, he was also a teenage boy who had recently developed something approaching erotomania; he took a good, long look. When he finally looked at her face, he saw that she had seen him staring and didn't seem in the least displeased. "Ummm..."

"I know what you're thinking, Ryan."

Ryan was pretty sure his horniness was written all over his face, and even if it wasn't, his chub had become a boner, so her mind-reading feat required little prescience. "Yeah?"

"And that's why I'm here."

"Uhhhh..."

"Now I know you're with the little Garcia girl, but the fact is that a healthy boy like you is a bundle of raging hormones twenty-four-seven. I'm sure she does what she can, but I doubt she can handle everything you've got to give her. Am I right?"

He shifted awkwardly. As much as he didn't want to admit it, the past couple of days had been too much for Lexi to handle. He nodded with the greatest reluctance.

"I think she could use some help with...that," she said, staring directly at his erection. "So I have a proposition: whenever she's not available and you need some relief, you text me or call me or snap me and I'll come...help. Any time, day or night. If I'm awake, I'll get you off in ways that little girl never imagined. OK?"

"Uhhhh..."

She giggled. "What a sweetie you are. Give me your phone."

He knew this was a terrible idea on any number of levels. First and foremost, it was MRS. Hendricks, and her husband was not only on the island, he was a coworker of his dad's. Second, he knew his mom didn't want him around Trish at all, ever, and if she found out...wow. Third, if Lexi found out, that would be just as bad; it wasn't like they were dating and they only had a few days left on the island, but he liked her and wanted to keep her as a friend and getting caught in a married, boozy floozy would probably ruin the chances of that.

On the other hand, he had heard Trish brag about her exploits many times and it wasn't like she hid them, so it was possible that her husband either didn't care or was one of those cucks that were so prevalent in certain corners of the internet. With all her experience, Trish could show him things that a young man his age would...benefit from. And her appetites seemed to almost match his own.

Don't be an idiot. Kick her out. Don't be an idiot -

Numbly he unlocked his phone and handed it to her.

What did I JUST SAY? his brain demanded angrily.

She quickly put in some info. "There. I put in my contact info under the name Annabelle."

As he accepted his phone back, he asked, "Is that your real name?"

"No, darling," she said as she rose. "'Trish' is generally short for 'Patricia.' Annabelle is just an alias in case someone digs into your phone. Now be a dear and check to see if the coast is clear. I don't think either of us want me to be seen exiting your room."

The coast was perfectly clear. When she was gone, he sat on his bed, alternately kicking himself for being a big fat dumb idiotic idiot who just did something an idiot would do, and wondering how long he'd be able to go without contacting her. After five minutes, he left and made his way down to the lobby, where he approached the desk. "Excuse me, but I'm in 311 and the door's broken. It won't lock."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir," replied the desk clerk, a native man who spoke in a thick Australian accent. "I'll send someone up to fix that today."

Ryan had been raised with conflict-avoidant Midwestern manners, so what he said next surprised even him. "I've reported this before, you know."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir," replied the clerk with a contrite expression.

"I've reported it to you, standing right here in this exact spot."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir," the man repeated, his expression unchanged.

"As recently as two days ago."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir."

"And every time I reported it, you said you'd send someone up to fix it that day."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir."

Ryan sighed. Apparently I'm very sorry to hear that, sir was local dialect for Go fuck yourself, foreign boy. Unable to think of either a way or a reason to continue the conversation, Ryan sighed, turned on his heel, and headed out to the deck. It was breakfast time so it was crowded with the significant others and children of the foreign workers. A quick glance around showed Mrs. Garcia but not Lexy, which wasn't that odd - Lexy did like to sleep in, and she had been tired the night before. Trish Hendricks was sharing a table with a couple of the European women, and she gave him a brief, knowing look before returning to her avocado on toast. He ended up moving to the table where his mother sat with Kim.

"Hi monkey boy," his sister said casually as he sat down across from her. "Did you have nightmares last night or something?"

Jess looked sharply up from her eggs and ham.

He wouldn't call it a nightmare. "No, why?"

"You were screaming at like 3:30 in the morning. Woke me up."

"Really?" Jess asked. "I didn't hear anything."

"Were you awake at 3:30?" Kim asked.

"I...yes, I had trouble sleeping last night."

"Must be something in the air," Ryan shrugged. "Anybody got any plans for the day?" Kim opened her mouth to speak but Ryan cut her off with, "Any plans other than lying on the beach all day and then getting drunk tonight?"

Kim shut her mouth again.

"I was thinking I'd go over to the construction site today and surprise your father at lunch," Jess said. "Maybe I'll have the hotel pack a picnic basket and he and I can have lunch on the beach."

"Just be careful you don't burn," Ryan said.

"I'll pack SPF 20,000,000," Jess laughed. "That's the only thing that can keep a ginger from frying on a South Pacific island. Or maybe I'll take one of the big beach parasols, if I can wrestle it into the car."

"All this...activity on a vacation," Kim frowned theatrically. "Driving places...doing things...it's unnatural."

"OK, hot take," Ryan nodded as the waiter approached. He ordered a full fry up, hold the beans, add hash browns and sausages. When the waiter had gone, he added, "Some of us are making memories, not just lying around like a beached porpoise."

"I consider myself more of a mermaid," Kim mused. "Without that nasty-ass fish tail. Gross."

"So you're a mermaid with the upper body of a human and the lower body of a human?" Jess asked. "Doesn't that just make you human?"

"She considers herself human," Ryan corrected. "That doesn't mean she's right."

"Aim high, sweetie," Jess nodded amiably to her daughter.

"All the contumely I must endure," Kim moaned.

Jess and Ryan exchanged baffled looks, and Ryan asked, "Conwhatnow?"

Kim spelled the word, said, "Look it up, pleb," and headed off toward the beach.

Ryan did just that. "Huh. It means, 'Insolent or insulting language or treatment.'"

"And she used it correctly and everything," Jess nodded. "What are you going to be doing today?"

"Hanging around. Maybe going on a hike to the eastern end of the island if Lexy feels like it."

"Are you going to miss her when we leave?" Jess asked.

"Yeah, kind of."

Jess grinned. "I'll bet you'll miss getting between those long legs a few times a day more than you'll miss her."

In spite of the fact that just yesterday he would have been mortified by such a statement from his mother, as well as the fact that just the night before he had been mortified by the magnificence of his vision of Jessica sucking his cock and begging for his cum, her statement now seemed unobjectionable, even mundane. "Yeah, she's a lot of fun to fuck. She's really eager and she loves my cum."

"Your cum is probably delicious, that's why."

"Lexy certainly thinks so. Half the time she wants it in her mouth so she can swallow it. She even shows me her empty mouth afterward like a good girl."

"That sounds really hot. Maybe you'll find someone back home who can keep those big, heavy balls of yours empty, huh?"

"I'd love that. I'd love a wild girl who was DTF at a moment's notice."

"Mmmm, I bet you would. My fuckable young man needs a steady supply of wet pussy," Jess chuckled. She put a piece of egg onto her fork and nonchalantly put it into her mouth -

And then without warning spat the egg out and lost what little color her pale face had. "Oh my God..."

For a moment Ryan was baffled by her action - and then it struck him what he and his mother had just said to each other. "Oh shit..."

People were looking now, and Rori Kranjc leaned over from the next table and asked, "Are you all right, Jess?"

With a slightly wild expression in her eyes, Jess covered her mouth with her napkin and mumbled that she was fine. Once the Czech woman had turned back away, Jess said with quiet urgency, "Oh my God Ryan, I am so sorry - "

"No, I'm sorry, I should never have said that - "

"I can't believe those words came out of my mouth - "

"Saying those things to my own mother - "

"It's just so inappropriate and I am so sorry I asked you that - "

"I feel like I should wash my own mouth out with soap - "

"It was my fault, I shouldn't have asked - "

"No it was my fault, I should never have said - "

With a third of her meal still on her plate, Jess lurched to her feet and fled back to the hotel. Ryan sat wearing the expression of someone who had just been hit over the head by a huge cartoon mallet, and he was still wearing that expression when the waiter came back with his food a few minutes later and took his mother's dishes away. He began to eat mechanically, just shoveling the food in without even tasting it.

Ok, ok, ok...WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WAS THAT? That conversation was obscene, ridiculous, nothing either he or his mother would have said in a million years. So why had it seemed so normal? It had never occurred to him not to respond in the way he did. It was as though he had been eager to give his mother details of his sex life and she had been just as eager to hear them, both in the crudest way possible. And it had felt ordinary - no, more than that, it had felt right.

He was still bewildered 15 minutes later when Lexy appeared and slid into the same chair his mother had occupied. "Good morning, my hero. How did you sleep?"

"Good. No, bad. Sorry, what?"

She frowned and gave him a concerned look. "Are you alright?"

He scrunched his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No. I haven't been sleeping great but I must be more tired than I thought because I just said the most insane shit to my mother that I have ever said."

Lexy's meticulously on fleek right eyebrow arched. "You have roused my curiosity. What did you say?"

He opened his mouth and then shut it again before finally saying, "I...I mean...it was about us. You and me."

"Well now you have to tell me."

"Just...she asked about us, really innocently, and all of a sudden I was saying really inappropriate stuff and she was saying really inappropriate stuff and it all seemed just normal until all of a sudden we realized what we were saying and she ran away."

Lexy's expression was a mix of scandalized and fascinated. "What did you say? What did she say?"

"Oh no, I'm not going to tell you that. Don't give me that look, I'm not saying a word. It was just...it was graphic, like the raunchiest locker room talk."

"Raunchiest...locker room...talk?"

Right, he kept forgetting that Spanish was her native language rather than the posh English she spoke so flawlessly. "It means the kind of talk that guys have between each other when they're trying to impress each other with details of their sex lives. It was really dirty, like nothing anyone should ever say to their mothers, and she was talking that way right back to me. It was the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me."

Lexy looked like she wanted to say more, but a baleful look from him warned her off. Finally she said, "I stopped off at the desk and rented one of the little sailboats they have. We can take it out onto the bay and have a lunch on the water."

Ryan really wasn't in the mood to do anything but crawl into a deep hole and pull the edges in after himself, but maybe going boating would set his mind right again. He nodded and said, "That sounds great."

The island had a single paved road, which ran from the hotel in the southeast to the only significant town, Ronea, on the west coast. In addition to being the nation's capital, Ronea was where the cargo ships unloaded their goods, where the airport was, and where essentially everything else was too. The road skirted the flanks of the old volcano, and Jess' eyes kept being drawn up onto the mountain's flanks as she drove the jeep the hotel had rented to her. Up on that volcano somewhere there was a little village where Ryan had saved a child's life, and also where they'd undergone that ceremony. She almost giggled at the absurdity of it before remembering that it was probably that ceremony that had put the intrusive and perverted thoughts of her son in his head; then it didn't seem so funny.
That might have explained the images that had given her such an earthshaking orgasm this morning, but it certainly didn't explain the conversation she had had with him over breakfast. It had been so...so casual, like they had been talking about the weather or what supplies he'd need for the coming school year. Neither of them had seemed to notice anything unusual about such filthy obscenities - it had certainly not seemed odd to her when she was saying them. And if there was any explanation for that, she didn't know it. The whole thing had been...unthinkable.

And she had to stop thinking about it. She turned on the car radio, already tuned to the only station that could be picked up on the island without a satellite. Radio Ranu Ratu was a government-owned station that played whatever was popular in Australia at the time, which right now meant that about 85% of its playlist was Taylor Swift. Well, Taylor Swift was fine, though Jess herself had always enjoyed the various flavors of alternative music from the 90s when she was in her teenage formative years. Oh well, she wasn't going to hear her favorites here.

Ten minutes later the station was just transitioning from its second Taylor Swift song in a row to its third Taylor Swift song in a row (man, the Aussies really loved Taylor Swift, apparently) when she had to come to a halt because a herd of about 30 cattle were standing in and around the road. Usually these herds were tended by someone who would shoo them off the road - or at least a well trained cattle dog - but these seemed both unattended and quite sedentary. She beeped her horn at them, which caused a few of the nearest cows to look at her with a complete lack of curiosity while they chewed their cuds. Hell. This might be a while.

After a few moments she looked over into the back seat to see that the basket she had gotten from the hotel was still securely where she had placed it. Inside there were some fancy chicken salad sandwiches (heavy on the mustard), a dish of native vegetables that she didn't recognize, Egyptian-style flatbread with hummus, some wonderful mango tarts, and a 2014 bottle of Australian rosé. Everything was packed on ice so there was no threat of spoilage and she had left with a huge amount of time to get to the construction site before lunch - even if it was an hour before someone came and cleared the cattle away, she would get to Paul in time for lunch without an issue. So there was nothing to do but wait.

Waiting quickly became annoying. The island was largely tropical rainforest, which means hot and humid; while the jeep was moving there was a breeze through the windows so things were tolerable. However now, stationary, she was starting to sweat a layer of perspiration that wasn't drying. What was worse, the jungle insects - usually absent near the beach - were starting to buzz into the vehicle; she wasn't one to be scared of bugs, but some of these suckers gave painful bites. And she couldn't roll the windows up or she'd cook (the Jeep had air conditioning but it was nonfunctional, naturally). Within ten minutes she was becoming seriously irritated. She honked for a while at the indifferent and immobile cows and then sat back, arms crossed, feeling damned dissatisfied.

In this state it was natural to think of things that reinforced her grumpy mood, and the first thought that hurled itself forcefully into her mind was the way she had imagined her son fucking her. Even now, hours later, it was still disgusting and filled her with shame. Only a terrible person, a terrible parent, could imagine such things. She had always thought of herself as a good mom; at the very least she hadn't imagined she was such a nasty pervert! Her one saving grace was that thoughts were private. It was bad enough that she knew, she couldn't imagine how disgusted Paul would feel if he had any idea.

And Ryan! Surely he would be beyond mortified at the thought of fucking her! Really, was it even conceivable that he would want to do anything with her no matter how hot it was? Of course not! She could only imagine the look on his face as she reached around behind her to undo her bra and let it fall to the floor. There was no way he would put his hands on her breasts and knead them, and no way he would tug at her nipples and squeeze them between his fingers. And even if he did that, he wouldn't want to put his mouth on them and suck them, pulling them into his mouth, letting them scrape across his teeth and then nibbling them just enough to make her weak in the knees.

And of course it was impossible that when she slipped her hand down his shorts, she would find his long, thick cock already hard and pulsing for her. He wouldn't want her to stroke it gently while she whispered into his ear all the filthy, wonderful things she wanted him to do to her body. And when he suddenly and violently pushed her onto the bed and tore her panties to shreds rather than bothering to take them off, what would he think? What would he think when he found her sweet little cunt already red and puffy and dripping wet for him? Would he be disgusted with her? Or would he spread her legs wide and give her the fuck that he needed as much as she did? Would he kiss her hard and whisper a secret name as his balls slapped against her ass and her ankles locked behind his back of their own volition?

And when he came deep, deep inside her and filled her unprotected womb with so much of his potent seed that it would stay inside her for days, would he hope that one of those swimmers would find her eager egg? Would he need to knock her up as much as she needed him to?

Jess' orgasm hit with the force of a freight train, her mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy while her right hand diddled her hard clit and the knuckles of her left hand went white where they gripped the steering wheel. It was the most bewildering orgasm she'd ever had, and one of the most intense, and when it finally swept past she was left trembling and dripping with sweat. The world was spinning and nothing made sense. She looked around in pure bewilderment - she had just been masturbating! How was it possible to masturbate to completion without even knowing you were doing it?

And where the hell were her panties? She didn't remember taking them off, but she sure as hell wasn't wearing them now and her juices had soaked the back of her dress. Numbly she looked around the jeep, even feeling under her seat without find them. She didn't see them until she looked out the window to her left (like in Australia, in Ranu Ratu you drove on the left) and spotted their pastel yellow color hanging from the branch of a bush growing in the roadside ditch. What the...

Making sure nothing was showing, she stepped out of her car to retrieve her underwear, only then realizing that the cows were being driven off the road by a young islander who couldn't have been older than 20; the guy gave her a shit-eating grin and an enthusiastic thumbs up, and it struck her that he had probably watched her jilling off! Blushing so hard she felt faint, she grabbed her panties; by the time she had settled herself back in the cows were off the road, and she sped past like lightning, ignoring the cheerful, "Thanks for the show!" from the cowherd.

She knew she needed to do some very hard thinking about what the sam-fuck was going on with her, but this whole thing had just taken on an air or unreality that she couldn't wrap her head around - at the moment it all seemed like it was happening to someone else. The more she tried to think of it, the more it skittered away like an eel. Well, fine - after lunch, when she was back at the hotel, she would give it all the thought she needed to figure it out.

Ronea was a ramshackle town of about 4,500, which was surprisingly large for a town in a small Pacific island nation. The buildings clustered on the left side of the road she was on to be close to the sea. The airport they had flown into (and would be leaving from in less than a week) was off to the right - it had been made by and for the American military during World War Two, and had been kept up ever since as a vital link to the world. She stayed on the road over the next hill and was greeted with the sight of construction equipment and swarms of workers laboring on what would soon be the fanciest resort hotel and casino between Australia and Hawaii.

There was no telling where Paul could be - he was seldom in the air conditioned office, preferring a more hands-on approach to management - so she asked around and was pointed to a cluster of workmen down by one of the big cranes that was just being assembled. She walked down toward the group, hoping that the fact that she was generally sweaty and probably a little stinky would cover the fact that she smelled like an orgasm.

As she walked, the nearby workers gave her none of the catcalls or whistles that an attractive women (and Jess was still a very attractive woman) could expect from construction crews the world over; she was, after all, the wife of one of the big bosses, which entitled her to a certain amount of respect. Nothing could keep them from looking, of course, and the long summer dress she wore couldn't conceal a curvaceous shape like hers, so she was acutely aware that about fifty sets of eyes were on her tits and ass as she went. Ah well, she probably didn't have many more years of being able to turn heads like this, so yes it was demeaning, yes it was objectifying, and yes she she found it distasteful, but she also put a little extra shimmy in her hips and bounce in her step.

Her husband was addressing a cluster of gang supervisors, and he beamed when he saw her. "Honey! What are you doing here?"

"I thought you might like a surprise picnic lunch with your wife on the beach."

"Damned right I do!" he said with a huge smile. "Give me ten minutes to wrap things up here, OK?"

She used the ten minutes to return to return to the jeep and drive it back to pick him up. She slid over to give him the driver's seat so he could get them to the best nearby spot, and just a few minutes later they were over another hill and onto a lovely little cove with a romantic view of waves crashing onto rocks. Away to the north was a pleasant-looking little fishing village. There was no beach here in the sense of an open curve with white sand, but the grass came down near to the water and was then replaced by rocks, so they planted the big beach parasol, spread their blanket, and began digging into the food.

It was a nice meal, with a little breeze coming in off the water as usual to wick away whatever lingering arousal scent clung to her body. She asked him how his day was going and kept the subject on him for as long as she could, and he regaled her with uninteresting tales of the technical issues that were coming up recently (most of the personnel problems were the domain of Rick Howell, who bore the title of Construction Coordinator and dealt with the operational issues of getting the resort built, rather than the architectural and visionary aspects that Paul was in charge of). Though she still didn't understand what was wrong with her today, the guilt over her thoughts and deeds with Ryan was starting to edge back in, so when he asked her how she was doing she took a huge bite of chicken salad sandwich and cheerfully mumbled, "Great!" around the food. That seemed to satisfy him, much to her relief, and the conversation moved to some of the challenges she would face when she went home without him in six days.

It was a nice meal and a nice time with the man she loved, and when he reluctantly declared he had to return to work, they packed everything up and headed back. She left him at the site and headed back east just as the regularly scheduled rain storm was darkening the sky in that direction. Like most South Pacific tropical islands, Ranu Ratu got two rains a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, that were torrential but brief and spotty - more than once she had seen a situation where she couldn't see ten feet for the downpour in one direction but the opposite direction had bright sunshine. And the natives all said that was normal, so go figure.

With no cows to block her path she made good time, only having to stop and pull off the road for five minutes when the rain finally hit. She sat in the jeep, listening to the rain pummeling the canvas top and drowning out Taylor Swift on the radio -

And it was then that the enormity of what she had done today really, truly hit her hard. She leaned her head against the steering wheel and moaned, "I am...contemptible. For God sake, woman, what the hell...what the hell..."

It was insane. It was impossible. It was not HER. She just didn't think about those kinds of things, much less do them. She almost never thought about another man when she was with Paul, and if she did it was someone unobtainable like Chris Hemsworth; when she masturbated she either thought about Paul or focused on how good the sensations felt to the exclusion of all else. But now...

"Maybe I'm a damned slut," she muttered. "Even Trish isn't bad enough to fantasize about fucking her own son." Not that Trish Hendricks had a son, but if she did, she wouldn't be bad enough to think about fucking him...probably.

OK, so what to do about it? What could she do? You couldn't help what popped into your head and got you gushy during sex. She had conversations with her friends at home where they occasionally discussed the topic, and some of them admitted to things even more "out there" than what she'd imagined. But the masturbation - how could she have stopped that when she didn't even realize she'd begun? She had no memory of reaching beneath her skirt to begin with and certainly no memory at all of lifting her hips, sliding her panties down her legs, and throwing them out the fucking window. That was just...nuts. It was nuts. And she was horny all the time now!

And again, what to do about it? It was probably menopause, that did all kinds of screwy shit to women's levels. Maybe she needed a libido suppressant. Did they even make those for women? Didn't some antidepressants do that? Not that she needed one for depression, but maybe a doctor would give her one if her raging hormones didn't cool down. Or maybe it was just this island, the climate and the change of scenery and the fact that she spent about a quarter of every day gossiping about sex with the Frauen-Trinkclub. God, the ladies would laugh their asses off if they knew what was going on with her right now!

So...yeah. It was the island, being away from her normal or easing of social pressures or overindulgence in alcohol - it had to be some local influence. In six days she and the kids would be on a plane to Sydney and then Los Angeles and then Milwaukee. If she was still having problems then she could see her GP and her gynecologist and her therapist. Hell, she could get an MRI if she had to. She just needed to hold it together until then.

Ryan and Lexy had waited until the downpour passed, and the moment it did they set off from the hotel dock in their little sailboat with a picnic basket, a blanket for a privacy curtain, and a crapload of sunscreen. The water in the bay was like glass, the sort of waters Ryan had been navigating almost since he could walk, and he handled the little 6-meter craft effortlessly, steering it out well away from land before unstepping the mast and dropping anchor.

"My mother always told me I'd come to no good," Lexy mused. "And here I am, about to get fucked by a common sailor."

"There's nothin' common about me, baby. And we're here to have a late lunch as much as to have sex. Well, almost as much." She regarded him dubiously. "OK fine, we're here to fuck and eat something to replenish our strength and then fuck some more. Happy?"

"I will be once you fuck me. I couldn't yesterday and I missed it. Just try not to bruise me this time."

"Aww, you take away all the fun," Ryan said amiably as he put his arms around Lexy and kissed her. She responded eagerly, her hands on his chest, slipping inside his open button-down shirt to caress the tanned skin inside. He'd been hard as diamond all day and now, with the chance to actually get off, it felt like he was going to rip through his baggy shorts. They played for a bit, tongue on tongue, before he pulled away with a grunt and said, "Ugh, I forgot to rig up the blanket."

"Oh bloody bother," she pouted as he began to rig the cloth to hang from the nearly-horizontal mast. "Must I wait?"

"Unless you want to give everyone around the bay a show and both of us to get nasty sunburns on parts that don't usually tan, yes." He did his best to hurry, and before long he had a little space set up to shield them both. He tried to tell her he was ready but she didn't wait for him to be finished before she grabbed his shorts and yanked them and his underwear down with a giggle. "Damn, girl..."

"As though that wasn't what you wanted!" she said with sparkling eyes as she wrapped her hand around his shaft...and stopped. "What..."

"Huh?" he asked, peering down at the confused girl.

"Your verga. It's...bigger."

"My what?"

"Your cock. It's bigger."

"Well I am pretty hard - "

"No, I mean it's....grown."

He looked dubiously at his own shaft as it protruded from her hand. "Nah..."

"I've always been able to fit my hand around it. I could last night. But now my fingers don't quite touch. See?"

"Um..."

"And it's longer too."

Now he just laughed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's longer! Look at it!" She took her hand away so he could see; he had to admit, it did look notably larger than it usually did. She put her hand back on it and stroked him experimentally before asking, "Does it hurt?"

"I...no, it feels great, like it always does. Why would it hurt?"

"Because it's two or three centimeters longer than it ever has been before and it's at least another centimeter or centimeter-and-a-half around. Since last night!"

With a frown he brushed her hand aside and wrapped his own around his shaft. She was right, he had grown noticeably overnight. Yesterday he'd packed five-and-a-half inches, but today it was six-and-a-half at least. And there was no denying that it felt different in his hand, heavier and meatier. "I...don't know how this happened."

"Is this normal? Do they suddenly grow like this?"

"No. I mean not that I ever heard. This...this is weird as fuck, Lexy."

"We can't be imagining it."

"No, we aren't." He let his hand drop and stared at his throbbingly bizarre erection. "How could this happen?"

"I have no idea," she replied quietly. "Are you sure it doesn't hurt? If it got that much bigger so quickly you would think there would be growing pains...wouldn't there be?"

"No. I mean yes, you'd think it would hurt, but it just feels like me. Like it did yesterday. I think I need to get to the doctor."

"I don't think the doctor on this island can do much besides set broken bones and dispense antibiotics."

"Well that's just great. Look, let's go back so we're in range of the cell tower, I need to to google this."

Twenty minutes later they had just finished tying the boat up to the dock and they were both searching the internet. They discovered that the human penis is supposed to be basically finished growing by the age of 16, which made this even weirder than they thought, but there was nothing about sudden growth spurts of the dong except a bunch of porn stories (where it was fetish) and advertisements (where it was a scam). Almost an hour of fruitless searching later, Ryan pulled his cap off his head, wiped his forehead of sweat, and said, "That's it, I'm done. I can't find anything."

"Neither can I," Lexy admitted reluctantly, tucking her phone away and looking up at him. She squinted at him and then said, "Your hair is weird."
"Oh, yeah," he said, pawing distractedly at the offending lock. "It was like that when I woke up. I think I am going to go to the doctor though, maybe it's...I dunno, maybe some local insect bit it and the swelling will go down."

"It can't hurt. Do you want me to go with you?"

He contemplated and then shook his head. "No, I guess not. I don't want you there if they have to amputate or something."

"Don't even joke."

"Sorry. Yeah. OK, I'm going to go get a jeep."

"Text me when you know."

A few minutes later Ryan was zooming down the same road his mother had traveled earlier that day, even using the same jeep. He called ahead to the doctor's office in Ronea to make sure the physician was in, and shortly after he arrived he was on an exam table, naked from the waist down as what passed for the local medical establishment stared at his erect penis.

The doctor, an ethnic Chinese from Manila ironically named Wang, was one of the seediest human beings Ryan had ever laid eyes on, and every time the man exhaled Ryan got a strong whiff of Jack Daniels. The man peered at Ryan's member, then reached out and gingerly poked at it with a tongue depressor. "Well it's certainly not elephantiasis, which is the first thing I'd worry about around here. Does that hurt? How about here? Here? How about your testicles?"

"Everything feels fine. Completely normal."

"It looks normal. There's no sign of swelling beyond what's natural with an erection. No discoloration, no unusual bumps, nothing disproportionate. Stand up, we need to examine you a bit better."

The next couple of minutes were uncomfortable from an emotional standpoint as Wang felt his balls and penis, but only when they got to the prostate portion of the exam was physical discomfort added to the mix. Wang was not gentle in Ryan's anus. When all that had passed and Ryan was trying to reassert a modicum of dignity by getting dressed, Wang told him, "As far as I can tell you're a perfectly healthy young man. Everything looks and feels perfectly normal. I suppose you always maintain an erection like this?"

"Well...I mean I am eighteen years old, so more or less, yeah. It's been especially bad for the past few days though."

"Did anything out of the ordinary happen in that time? Did you eat anything or drink anything unusual? Have you been taking any drugs?"

"No, no drugs. Right before this all started I saw a native ceremony up in the jungle though."

"Eh, ceremony? What happened there? Did you eat or drink anything strange there?"

"There was fruit...like nectarines or something? They tasted normal - I've been eating the same fruit since I got to the island. And then there was the smoke. There were two flowers and they set them on fire and had us breathe in the smoke."

"If smoke from a couple of local flowers made penises grow, these islanders would be the richest people on Earth. Who else was at this ceremony?"

"Just me and my mother."

"Has she been complaining of anything strange?"

Ryan paused, thinking of the bizarre exchange that morning, but that couldn't have been anything important, that was just he and his mother being silly. He shook his head and said, "No."

"If she complains of a penis growing, we'll really have one for the books," Wang muttered. "I can give you my diagnosis now. You experienced a late growing spurt of the genitals, which is quite rare but not unheard-of. It's been going on for weeks or months but didn't notice it until today."

Ryan was about to protest that his cock was definitely smaller the night before, but before he could open his mouth he thought better of it. What the doctor was telling him was vastly more likely than his dingus sprouting an inch during the night. "I guess that makes sense."

"Now, that's almost certainly fine, but when you get back home you need to get thoroughly checked out at a real hospital. There are things that can cause sudden growth spurts in various body parts and you have to gets tests to rule those out. Also if it keeps swelling, then you may need to cut your vacation short."

"We're leaving in six days anyway."

Wang told Ryan that if he or his mom experienced any other issues while on the island, they needed to see him immediately. That was that. On the way back to the car he texted Lexy what he had been told, and she agreed that they likely had overreacted. He headed back toward the hotel, only to get stuck when a herd of about thirty cows blocked the road.

The nightly beach party was a little smaller than usual, but it went on anyway - the only night the McCullums had been on the island where there was no party was when the big storm tore everything up a few nights back. Kim was dancing in the sand with four workmen who wanted to bang her, but she always attracted a crowd and as far as Jess knew hadn't slept with anyone on the island yet; the girl just wanted to have fun.

For her part, Jess was sitting at a table with her husband, beaming at his handsome face and listening to him tell a funny if somewhat convoluted story of a comedic incident that had happened that afternoon at the site; it was a rambling shaggy dog tale that had begun with the delivery of a shipment of incorrectly-colored bricks from Australia, had escalated when a seagull relentlessly attacked one of the managers, which somehow led to a New Zealand worker insisting that he should be allowed to drink beer for his afternoon tea break, and had finally somehow led to one of the excavator operators being trapped when an errant blow from a passing bulldozer had tipped over the chemical toilet he was in. The bizarre part was that each of these events somehow caused the next in the chain, and before it was done Jess was laughing so hard she was snorting in a very unladylike fashion.

When Paul had finished his story he got up to get them another round (ginger ale for him and a glass of chardonnay for her) when she saw Ryan walking hand-in-hand with Lexy from the direction of the hotel; Ryan was looking very pleased with himself, while Lexy was walking with a slightly uncomfortable gait that every woman who's ever been pounded silly knew all too well. She couldn't help but grin, which widened into a smile when she didn't think anything even slightly inappropriate about her boy. In fact, she hadn't had any such thoughts since she'd gotten back this afternoon, which pleased her greatly. Undoubtedly it had all been a passing bout of tropical madness. Yes, tropical madness, that's all it was.

When Ryan was about thirty feet from Jess, he said something to Lexy; the girl smiled, stood on her tiptoes for a kiss, and went solo toward the bar. Ryan turned and gestured to Jess to come to him, which was kind of odd, but she went with it. "Hey, kiddo," she said when she was close enough that they could speak in a normal voice without being overheard. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to mention something," he said, and she immediately saw he was a bit nervous. "I went to the doctor today. Now don't get excited, he said everything is fine."

"What's wrong? Are you sick?"

"No, it's...it's a private issue."

"A private..."

He blushed adorably. "An issue with my privates."

"...do you have the clap?"

"No!"

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise it isn't that, jeez."

"Crabs?"

"God no!"

"Did you hurt yourself with..." and here she stopped to gesture with her head toward Lexy, who was chatting amiably with Paul at the bar.

"No. No, it doesn't hurt at all. It's...look, I'd rather not explain, OK? Just trust me, everything is OK now."

"You can't tell your mother about a problem with your nasties and expect her not to worry, dear. Maybe you'd better tell me what happened."

"I'd really rather not," he said, shifting uncomfortably and blushing even more.

"I'm going to worry myself sick until you do. There's nothing to be ashamed of, honey. You can tell me anything, that's what moms are for."

He threw his head back and made a frustrated sound, then looked back at Jess. "My junk got bigger, like considerably bigger, really quickly."

Now it was Jess' turn to blush. "I see."

"And we just noti - I mean, I just noticed it today but it must have been growing for a while now. Anyway it's like an inch longer than it was when I got on the island."

"That's...good?"

"Well...I guess so, yeah. But I just noticed it all of a sudden and it freaked me out so I went to the doctor. I feel fine, no pain or anything, and he said everything looked normal. He was pretty quick to rule out the standard tropical diseases especially. Anyway the reason I'm telling you this is because the only unusual thing I've done recently is that ceremony thing, and since you were there too, he wanted you to be alert for any changes and see him right away if you notice anything."

"Whew. That's a lot. Well thank God you're OK, but you'd better keep an eye on it, and have Lexy keep an eye on it too. If you notice anything else odd - anything! - you get your butt to the doctor. You hear me?"

"I will. You too, OK."

Jess nodded, then licked her palm and ran it down the side of her son's head. He jerked away, asking, "What are you doing?"

"Your hair was weird. I fixed it."

"Mom, I've not seven years old anymore."

"You'll always be seven to me. Now go get a drink, you probably need it."

Day Five

Jess awoke once more to a convulsive orgasm, feeling herself squirt into the sheets in the way that was starting to seem inevitable. Next to her, Paul slept on as though nothing was unusual. These dreams were going to be the death of her. They wouldn't be so bad if she could only get a decent night's sleep, but they always made her lose an hour, maybe two. She forced herself upright in bed and swung her legs over the side, noticing that the clock said 4:08; would it even be worth it to try to go back to sleep, seeing that Paul woke up at 6:15 and their permanent ritual saw her get up at the same time? With a grown, she grumbled, "I might have to take a nap today."

She made her way to the bathroom, thighs dripping with girl-cum and leaving a sticky trail; she made a mental note to use her bath towel to wipe that up before she returned to bed. A few moments later she was in the shower, using up what little warm water had managed to accumulate in the hotel tank. She rinsed herself off, careful to keep her hair dry.

Every morning that she woke up like this, the feeling had grown stronger inside her that she really, desperately needed to figure out who the man she was dreaming about was, because she was certain he was someone she knew well, and just as certain that wasn't her husband. She wasn't sure why this need was there - it wasn't like she was going to do anything in real life with the guy no matter who he was - but it was like an itch at the base of her brain, always there, unable to be scratched. And today, because of what had happened in the dream the night before, it was worse than ever.

The dream had started out like it always did, her and this paragon of a man in a soft-porn version of her living room back home. She had been naked and tanned and young, and the man was naked and tanned and young and perfect. They had made love - much more playfully this time than in the past, as though the dream from two nights ago where the man had knocked her up had taken some pressure off of them. She and her dream lover had had fun kissing and touching, and the foreplay had lasted for a very long time. He went down on her and made her come with his mouth and she did the same to him, and then they sixty-nined, making love to each other's genitals with their mouths and playing with each other's asses (a new wrinkle and something she had never done to Paul, though her dream man seemed to find it pleasurable). But that little difference was nothing compared to what happened when he finally pushed his hips between her legs and she felt his hard cock rub against her entrance: he had given her a name and she remembered it when she woke up.

Seetsahm.

That was no sort of name Jess had ever heard, and there was nothing to even show it was a name and not just a random sound - nothing except her bone-deep certainty that he had bestowed upon her a name that had always been hers without her knowing it, as insane as that was. Seetsahm. What the hell? Why not "Laura" or "Maggie?" She had always liked those names.

Somehow Seetsahm fit her better though.

She must have heard that name somewhere though. It certainly didn't sound like a native word. Maybe one of the Frauen-Trinkclub had mentioned it? She could ask them...but what would she say? Hey girls, I've been having dreams of getting fucked by a mysterious stranger that make me cum so hard I soak my bed and last night he called me Seetsahm and it really feels like my name. Yeah, right.

She stepped out of the shower and dried off, then stared at her reflection in the mirror as though looking in her own eyes for an answer. She knew the man. She knew she knew him, and she needed to figure out who he was before it drove her bonkers.

She remembered to use her damp towel to clean up the path she had left. She nestled back into bed but sleep didn't come. Her mind raced, swirling around the name she had been given and what it might mean, and around the half-remembered face of her dream lover. Before she knew it, it was getting light outside and Paul was stirring. She was on her side, looking lovingly into his eyes as he opened them.

"Wow, that's what I want to see first thing in the morning," he murmured with a smile.

"I don't know how you're even more handsome when you wake up in the morning than when you went to sleep the night before," she told him, nestling her nose into the crook of his neck and planting a kiss on a sensitive spot. "I think I'm the luckiest woman around, getting to wake up next to you."

"I'm the lucky one. You have to smell my morning breath."

"Ooh, fair point, stinky," she chuckled. "Your mouth smells like a goat's butt."

"And how do you know how a goat's butt smells?"

"A woman is allowed to have secrets."

He chuckled and put his arm around her. "What if I call in sick and we spend the whole day fooling around?"

"Don't dangle that in front of me and then yank it away. You haven't called in sick in fifteen years."

"Seventeen, but who's counting. God I'm going to miss you when you go back."

"You'll visit for a couple weeks at Christmas," she said, putting her head on his chest. "We'll just have to survive until then."

"If I didn't need this job..."

"But you do. This job will make you what you always wanted to be, so do it and do it great. A little separation won't kill either of us." She paused, then added, "Of course, now that I know how hot the native women are, I'll be worried about you leaving me for one."

"None of them can hold a candle to you, babe."

"Aww. You're just saying that because you want to get laid."

"Is it working?"

She lifted herself and swung her hips atop his. "Hell yes it is."

She didn't come. She rode her husband for all she was worth and then took it from behind the way she liked, but her orgasm didn't come. She was fine with that - sex with Paul wasn't about coming, it was about being together with him completely, so if she sometimes didn't finish, she was fine with that. But once, as she was just realizing she wasn't going to orgasm, a wonderful, thrilling image of Ryan behind her, pulling her hair and hammering her like a cheap slut entered her mind; she almost climaxed then, almost lost herself in it and let herself run with the fantasy, but through sheer force of will she pushed the fantasy away, her potential orgasm receding with it.

Something was wrong with her, but that didn't mean she had to let herself be vile. She was in control, not her dark perversions.

Afterward she waited as he showered and shaved, when when he came out of the bathroom she had gotten dressed, selected his clothes for the day and laid them out on the bed. They chatted while he dressed, and when it was time for him to leave she walked him down to the dining room, where he grabbed a plastic plate of papaya from the buffet and ate it on the way to the shuttle bus. She waved him goodbye, trying not to feel sad that in just a few days he would be waving her goodbye as she flew away.

Don't be a fool. Cherish the moments you have because they don't last.

Kim had really tied one on the night before so it was no surprise that she wasn't at breakfast. Jess joined Vilde and Kendra as they finished their breakfast. She was still lingering over her morning coffee when the ladies had gone and Ryan emerged from the hotel. She waved at him and he approached, but as he got closer she saw the dark patches under his lovely eyes. "Good morning, sweetie. Are you feeling OK?"

"Oh, yeah, just tired." He took a seat at her table. "I haven't been sleeping well lately."

"Me neither. I think I'm anxious about leaving your father."

"I can understand that." He rubbed his eyes, then flagged down a passing waiter and ordered a mushroom and cheese omelet.

"So what's keeping you from sleeping?" she asked.

"Oh...it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"When you tell your mother not to worry, that's when I start to worry. I'd have thought you'd have learned that by now."

"It's really nothing. I just...it's nothing."

"Well now you're just lying to me."

He exhaled rather dramatically. "It really is, it's just dreams."

She tilted her head. "Dreams."

"Yeah, I've just been having really crazy dreams lately. That's all."

"Nightmares? Like of the river?"

"I...no, not nightmares, just strange. They wake me up and I can't get back to sleep."

"I've had some of the same myself," she admitted. "Do you want to talk about them?"

He blushed so red he looked as though he'd been lying in the tropical sun for eight hours with no sunscreen. "No. No I don't."

"OK then, never mind. What are your plans for the day?"

"Lexy is going to spend the day with her dad at the construction site, so I'll probably just do some swimming, maybe a little solo hiking around here."

"That sounds fun. I'd invite you to join me and the ladies this afternoon but I can't imagine you'd enjoy spending time with a bunch of drunken, gossipy middle-aged women."

"I'll probably pass on that, yeah."

There was a lull in conversation. Ryan looked out at the sea, and Jess looked at Ryan. Finally she said, "Sweetie, it really does seem like there's something on your mind. Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"It's stupid. It's something from the dreams but I can't figure it out and it's driving me nuts."

She put a comforting smile on her face and reached across the table to take his hand. "You can tell me if you want. If you're comfortable."

He seemed to think about it for a long moment before finally looking from the ocean to her face. "It's silly, but...have you ever heard the name Seetsahm?"

Jessica's smile froze on her face, slowly changing from that of a comforting parent to something resembling the smile of the corpse at a wake. She felt numb, as though it was someone else using her voice who asked, "What did you just say?"
That Damned Blessing Ch. 03
In Which It Is Best If Dreams Do Not Come True.
Author's Note: All imaginary persons I imagined for the purposes of this story who engage in sexual activity of the imaginary variety are 18 imaginary years old or older, I imagine. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is coincidental but obviously fated to be, so blame the Universe and not me.

This would have been done a while ago, but COVID's a bitch. For friggin' WEEKS. Seriously, that "brain fog" thing is not a myth, I could barely speak a sentence, much less write it. Fuck that.

As you might notice, this chapter ends on a hell of a cliffhanger. Let me know what you think.

Up next: Are You Tiffani Caine? Chapter 4

That Damned Blessing, Chapter 3:

In Which It Is Best When Dreams Do Not Come True

Day Five

Kim had really tied one on the night before so it was no surprise that she wasn't at breakfast. Jess joined Vilde and Kendra as they finished their breakfast. She was still lingering over her morning coffee when the ladies had gone and Ryan emerged from the hotel. She waved at him and he approached, but as he got closer she saw the dark patches under his lovely eyes. "Good morning, sweetie. Are you feeling OK?"

"Oh, yeah, just tired." He took a seat at her table. "I haven't been sleeping well lately."

"Me neither. I think I'm anxious about leaving your father."

"I can understand that." He rubbed his eyes, then flagged down a passing waiter and ordered a mushroom and cheese omelet.

"So what's keeping you from sleeping?" she asked.

"Oh...it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"When you tell your mother not to worry, that's when I start to worry. I'd have thought you'd have learned that by now."

"It's really nothing. I just...it's nothing."

"Well now you're just lying to me."

He exhaled rather dramatically. "It really is, it's just dreams."

She tilted her head. "Dreams."

"Yeah, I've just been having really crazy dreams lately. That's all."

"Nightmares? Like of the river?"

"I...no, not nightmares, just strange. They wake me up and I can't get back to sleep."

"I've had some of the same myself," she admitted. "Do you want to talk about them?"

He blushed so red he looked as though he'd been lying in the tropical sun for eight hours with no sunscreen. "No. No I don't."

"OK then, never mind. What are your plans for the day?"

"Lexy is going to spend the day with her dad at the construction site, so I'll probably just do some swimming, maybe a little solo hiking around here."

"That sounds fun. I'd invite you to join me and the ladies this afternoon but I can't imagine you'd enjoy spending time with a bunch of drunken, gossipy middle-aged women."

"I'll probably pass on that, yeah."

There was a lull in conversation. Ryan looked out at the sea, and Jess looked at Ryan. Finally she said, "Sweetie, it really does seem like there's something on your mind. Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"It's stupid. It's something from the dreams but I can't figure it out and it's driving me nuts."

She put a comforting smile on her face and reached across the table to take his hand. "You can tell me if you want. If you're comfortable."

He seemed to think about it for a long moment before finally looking from the ocean to her face. "It's silly, but...have you ever heard the name Seetsahm?"

Jessica's smile froze on her face, slowly changing from that of a comforting parent to something resembling the smile of the corpse at a wake. She felt numb, as though it was someone else using her voice who asked, "What did you just say?"

"Seetsahm," he repeated with a frown. "Is that a swear word or something?"

"Wh...how do you know that name?"

"I dreamed it," he repeated. "Last night, it was a character in my dream. I'm pretty sure I never even heard the name before, but, like, I know I know her. I was thinking maybe she was one of your friends?"

Jess leaned forward and, with greater intensity than she realized, demanded, "The dreams -- what are they?"

Ryan looked taken aback, and his blush crept into his hairline. "Um..."

"What were your dreams about?"

"They were just dreams, you know...dreams..."

"What kind of dreams, Ryan?" She was practically hissing.

"Jeez!" he gasped, plainly startled by her vehemence. "They were the kinds of dreams you don't talk about with your mom, OK?"

"What...when did they start?"

"I dunno, a few days ago? What's the big deal?"

"Do you remember which night?"

He couldn't have looked more baffled. "Yeah, it was after we saved that kid, like that night. So? So what?"

She almost had to peel her fingers off the arms of her chair, so tightly was she clutching them. She realized she was probably looking and acting a bit demented, but what the hell? She counted to five, slowly, then proceeded in a more reasonable tone. "These dreams, they repeat?"

"Uh, I mean, kinda. Look, I'd really rather not talk about this with you, if that's alright."

"They're set in our living room at home," she said quietly. "But not our living room. The curtains are white, furniture comes and goes."

His eyes looked ready to pop out of his skull. "How do you know..."

"The girl you're with, is she brunette? Tan? Short? Impossible body?"

He looked around as though he suspected he was being punked. "Did we see this in a movie or something?"

"The first two nights, what happened in the dream? Don't give me that look, how far did it go? It was just oral, right?"

He stared at her and finally laughed uneasily. "Are you fucking with me, sorry for my language? How do you know all this?"

The world was becoming very spinny as she said in her chair. "I'm having the same dreams, Ryan. They're so powerful! I wake up in the middle of...well, they're...climactic..."

He looked at her as though stricken. "You. You're Seetsahm."

She could only stare back. That name, coming from him, was the rightest and most perfect thing she had ever heard.

He leaned forward covering his face in his hands. "Damn it," he muttered, barely audible. "What the fuck. And I can't even stop thinking about them when I'm awake. I've been..."

"Tell me."

"Thinking of you. When I'm with Lexy. At first it was just the dreams I was thinking of but lately..."

"Yeah," she said. A sudden load of guilt crashed down on her out of the sky like she and Ryan really had done all the things she had dreamed and fantasized about. "Me too."

"That ceremony," he said suddenly. "Those stupid flowers."

"No, how could that be?" she said. "You can't believe in that voodoo. It's impossible."

"Impossible like us sharing wet dreams?" he asked, staring into her eyes. "Do you have any other explanation? Anything?"

"Well...there must be one. We must have seen that in a movie and...no. No I don't."

He stood suddenly. "Grab some bottled water and something for lunch. I'm going to get us a jeep."

She gasped quietly -- that sudden, forceful tone had sent a shiver down her spine and right into her pussy. God he's so hot when he takes charge...

Twenty minutes later they were in a jeep heading for the volcano with Jess behind the wheel. He wasn't as hopeless with a stick as she thought he was -- he had made it to town and back yesterday -- but she was better, and when driving up a mountainside on what barely constituted a trail, the best person should be in control of the vehicle.

They had been quiet on the trip so far, but suddenly he said, "When I sniffed the flowers, I had a really weird feeling. Like I was...like I was out of my head for a second. Not like I was crazy, I was just...it was like I was high."

"That happened to me too," she said. "It was weird. Everything got sort of swirly in my head and then I felt sort of turned on."

He rolled it around in his mind for a few moments, then said, "So whatever was in that bowl was a drug, right? It made us suggestible, and then when they told us it was a fertility ceremony and they thought we were married, our minds started filling in the blanks."

"That does make sense," she said slowly, but with a note of doubt in her voice that said she wasn't quite convinced of that explanation.

"But only half sense" Ryan said. "It doesn't explain the dreams. It doesn't explain why we've been thinking about each other. Or that weird conversation we had at breakfast yesterday, remember?"

"I remember. There's something else too, something that maybe goes along with...the growth spurt that sent you to the doctor yesterday. My skin looks younger. I've lost a couple of age spots. And...well, this is nuts, but I think some cellulite has disappeared."

"What the hell..." He stared out at the passing scenery, trying to concoct some explanation for all this that didn't involve witch doctors and magical incantations. If it were just the dreams and even the fantasies outside of the dreams, he could buy (with difficulty) that whatever they inhaled had messed with their heads. There was no way, however, that breathing in a little smoke could make his dick grow an inch overnight or disintegrate cottage cheese on thighs.

The only problem was, the only explanation that made sense was fucking insane and he couldn't accept it.

They came to the Nawoka River, which had been a raging torrent when they'd been here last. The pileup of debris against the bridge had largely been cleared, and the work gang had dwindled to two men with a chainsaw and a utility truck chopping up the dead trees and hauling them away. They crossed and headed up the same route that they'd taken four days before.

As they began the climb up the mountain, Ryan realized that he was staring at his mother's legs. They were as pale at the rest of her, almost alabaster, and they nearly glowed in the sun where her dress had ridden up nearly to her crotch. They were mesmerizing, and as much as he knew he shouldn't look, he was having difficulty caring what he ought and ought not to do. They were gorgeous, but what was in between was even more beautiful, he was certain.

"See something you like?" Her voice snapped him from reverie, and he looked up to see a smirk on her face. "I don't mind if you look. It seems like we're past the point where that should bother me, doesn't it?"

"I guess so," he said, moving his eyes lower again. "They're beautiful."

"But you're probably thinking about what's inside my panties more than my legs," she laughed.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious," he admitted. "I wonder if it looks like it does in my dreams."

She shot him a calculating look before turning back to the road. "I wonder what it would mean if it did, or if your cock is just as beautiful as I think it is."

"I don't think there would be any harm in looking, would there? I mean as long as we don't touch..."

"I guess not, as long as we don't touch."

"I mean...a little touching might be alright?"

"I think a little touching would be OK. Just to see if it's the same as in our dreams."

"That could be important information."

"I agree. Let me pull over." Two minutes later she had found a spot where she could get off the road, pulling into a little niche in the woods. "Do you want to see me first?"

"Yes," he nodded hungrily, his lips curled into a hungry smile. "Show me your sexy little cunt."

She giggled like a girl at the use of that word and lifted herself up out of the seat so she was standing on it. Watching his face, she pulled her dress up to her waist, revealing a pair of pale pink panties; they were chunky and covered too much to be sexy, but of course she owned sensible underwear that a woman in her mid-40s would wear. Fingers hooked at the hips, she began to tug her panties down, her dress falling as she did so she didn't actually show him anything but leg. When they were at her ankles she sat on the seat back, pulled them off, and tossed them carelessly on the hood of the car.

"Damn girl," Ryan breathed, watching her with hungry eyes. "Have you always been this hot?"

She laughed and spread her legs, the dress drooping between them to cover her nudity. "Baby, you ain't seen nothing yet. But I bet you want to."

He looked up at her with a smile that showed so many teeth that he might as well have been a shark. "Show me."

He saw her shiver in delight at his tone. He hadn't agreed with what she said and he hadn't suggested or asked or pleaded. He he had ordered, and he could tell that his mother had loved that. She nibbled her lower lip, took the hem of her dress in her hand, and slowly lifted it until it was above her waist. Her pussy was there, lips puffy with arousal, the slit in the middle so wet that it gleamed. "Do you like it?"

Ryan shifted, leaned over, put his head close, studied her vagina with an enthralled expression on his face. He reached toward her and she didn't pull away when he put his fingers on it and stroked the length, gathering her moisture on his fingertips. He lifted his eyes to hers and they locked together as he raised his fingers to his lips and slipped the tips into his mouth.

"Do I taste good, baby?" she asked, a hungry grin quirking the corner of her mouth.

"You taste just like I dreamed. You look just like I dreamed. You're my perfect woman."

"And you're not fair," she mock-pouted. "You get to taste me, but what do I get?"

His reply was simple: he sat back in his seat, undid his shorts, and pushed them down onto his thighs. His cock jumped up, erect, ready, demanding, and Jess didn't waste a second. With a cry of delight she threw herself across the jeep, grabbed it by the base, and held it steady as she took it into her mouth and then deeper into her throat, burying her nose against his pelvis in one smooth motion. They groaned simultaneously, almost the same sound of delight and satisfaction. As his hands settled on the back of her head his groan became the whispered name, "Seetsahm..."

Jessica stared at Ryan from across the jeep and he stared back, their expressions of shock and dismay identical. For a heartbeat all either could do was look -- and then with a pair of startled squeaks they began to move. Ryan grabbed at his shorts to pull them back up and cover himself but what his hands found made no sense: his clothes were up where they should be and firmly in place, not down around his thighs. His cock was hard, painfully so, but it was properly confined and hidden. Jessica almost jumped out to recover her panties from the hood of the vehicle but she froze when she saw they weren't there, and an instant later her hands flew up her dress to find them securely around her hips. Their gaze switched to each other's laps, then back to their own, then to each other's shocked, baffled, stricken faces.

"Did I just -- "

"Did you -- "

"And I took it off -- "

"And you were naked -- "

"And you were naked -- "

"And then I touched it -- "

"And you put it in your mouth!"

Jessica's pale complexion had gone a sort of ashy gray and her hand was over her mouth, but Ryan still understood her when she asked, in a tiny voice, "Was that real?"

"I don't know!" Ryan wailed. "It felt real! Did it feel real?"

Jess nodded jerkily. "I...I can still feel you in my mouth..."

Ryan gave an inarticulate roar and vaulted out of the jeep, waving at his face. "I can taste you! I can still taste you!"

For her part, Jess managed a squeaked, "Oh God," before she leaned out of the jeep and threw up her breakfast.

A moment later Ryan was grasping a thick fallen branch like a baseball bat and smacking the trunk of an inoffensive tree while shouting over and over again, "WHAT! THE! FUCK! WHAT! THE! FUCK!"

A few minutes after that they sat, Ryan on the ground with his back against the front passenger side wheel and his mother in the driver's seat, each nursing a bottle of Beloka. Neither had spoken for a bit, and it was Jess who broke the silence with a muttered, "I don't understand how that's possible. How could we have shared a hallucination?"

"Same way we share dreams," he said, looking down at the bloody spot on his hand that had been gashed by a sliver of wood during his recent rampage. "That fucking old dude did something to our fucking heads, the fucker."

"Don't swear, honey," she said in a motherly reflex, then winced at the inappropriateness of her own admonition. Who cared if he swore now? They had other things to worry about. "Did we...did we experience the same thing?"

"Do you really want to compare notes?"

"Oh...no. Maybe it's best we don't."

Another moment of silence that stretched. Ryan stared up at the deep blue tropical sky, while his mother looked resolutely up the road again. Finally Ryan said, "I need a bandage."

A bandage. That was something concrete and utterly nonsexual to focus on. She dug out the small first aid kit that was in every jeep and set about repairing her son, disinfecting his hand with alcohol wipes (he was too pissed off to wince at the sting) and bandaging it as securely as the rather awkward spot of the injury would allow. The mundanity of the task allowed both of them to ground themselves, and when it was done they climbed back in the jeep and resumed the drive without speaking.

They smelled the cookfires before they arrived, so they were prepared when it came into view around the last turn. The villagers, however, were not prepared for them, and when the first of them recognized Ryan and Jessica, a hue and cry went up and the people scattered, mothers grabbing children in a mad dash away from the jeep; as they pulled into the central area of the village and stopped, the last of the villagers was just disappearing into the brush.

"YEAH YOU BETTER RUN!" Ryan called after them, shaking his injured hand in a fist.

"YOU BETTER GET BACK HERE!" Jess contradicted him by standing in her seat and shouting after the fleeing forms. None of them returned, and after a moment she flounced dramatically back into her seat and began sounding the horn in an almost continuous blast.

A few seconds later, someone they recognized rounded the corner of one of the houses: the young man who spoke to them right before they left the village the other time they were here. He had a rather frightened expression and held his hands up in a gesture that might have meant Hey calm down or Dear Lord please don't kill me.

As soon as she spotted him, Jess stopped honking. "You!" she cried. "We need help!"

"And it's your fault!" Ryan added.

"We're having dreams!" Jess shouted. "And seeing things! And saying things! And maybe doing things!"

"No, yeah, no, yeah, I know what you're here for," he said in his thick Aussie accent. "Come in out of the sun and we'll have a chinwag."

Ryan and Jess exchanged looks -- they didn't trust this village's hospitality but they had little choice. They followed the man into the same building that they had waited in before the ceremony. He gestured at a table with four chairs around it, then went to a cupboard and returned with a half-empty bottle of Jack and three scratched glasses.

"Do you have anything cold?" Ryan asked.

"No electricity, mate. No worries though, whiskey is best served room temperature. Of course it's best when the room temperature is lower." He poured each of them considerable slug and sat down. "Anyway, I'd welcome you back but I think you might knock my bloody lights out if I did, so let's talk."

"What's your name?" Jess asked. "We didn't catch it last time."

"Oh, my real name's a bit of a mouthful," the man said. "Just call me Jake."

"You said you know why we're here," Ryan said; his tone was accusatory, but in his current mood he'd have sounded accusatory telling someone their baby was cute. "So what do we do?"

"OK, I want to help, I really do, but you have to understand that Adouwe's the shaman so your best answers will come from him. I'm just his apprentice and he's likely forgotten more about our magics than I'll ever know."
"Well he'd better fucking remember," Ryan muttered.

"It sounds like he's the one we should be talking to," Jess said. "Where is he?"

"He knew you'd be coming back," Jake replied. "Since you left he's been out searching the jungle for anything that can help you. Well actually he went out the next day -- the Old Woman worked him over pretty good after you left so he had to rest up that day. His bruises have bruises. When you came in this time, everybody scattered to look for him and bring him back...and because they're honestly terrified of you."

"Why? What did we do?" Ryan asked. "That old dude's the one who fucked up, they should be scared of him."

"Because the most powerful blessing we can give, one that's only been done once in our whole history, has turned into a curse," Jake explained. "For all they know, that means you can spread the curse just with a look or a word or a touch."

Mother and son exchanged a startled look before Ryan asked, "Can we?"

"No! No no no, of course not," Jake said. "Probably not."

"Probably?" Jess demanded.

"You have to understand, nothing like this has ever happened before," Jake said. "We're off the edge of the map. Who knows what's possible?"

Ryan threw up his hands in exasperation, but Jess cut him off with a placating gesture and said, "This ceremony's only been done once? What happened then?"

Jake suddenly looked more sure of himself, as though this were firmer ground for him. "It was about 800 years ago, two centuries after our people first got here. Things were bad then -- there was a huge feud, every clan against every other, people being murdered, all sorts of things. There was one man, bloke named Ratu, who put a stop to the whole thing by talking down everyone who could be talked down and smacking everyone else over the head. He brought peace, divvied up the land, made sure everyone was happy and taken care of.

"Now no sooner had he done that than two rare flowers bloomed that had never bloomed before. The shamans thought that was a bloody good omen so they came up with the ceremony that we did for you. They didn't know what it would do if it did anything at all, but it did something alright."

Jake fell silent, and after a long and portentous moment, Ryan snapped, "You gonna tell us or are we supposed to ask?"

Jake shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry, mate, trying to build tension."

"Well stop it," Jess said.

"Right, sorry. Anyway, they did the same ceremony we did for you on Ratu and his wife Fa'ahotu. Nine months after that, Fa'ahotu gave birth to a son, then a year after that a daughter, and another child a year after that and another a year after that, on and on for sixty years."

"Sixty years?" Jess said with a frown. "How old was she when she started?"

"She was thirty years old when the ceremony was done, and she'd already had six children."

"Wait, wait, wait, you're telling me she was an old woman of ninety and still making babies?" Jess demanded.

"And Ratu was a ninety-year-old man still knocking her up?" Ryan added.

"Yeah, only they weren't old," Jake told them. "They didn't get old, in fact they got younger and stayed that way. They looked twenty when they were a hundred years old."

"Well that's just crazy," Ryan frowned.

"The crazier thing is all their children after the ceremony survived, healthy and strong," Jake said. "That didn't happen back before modern medicine -- half the children used to die when they were still ankle-biters, but all of their kids reached adulthood and had families of their own. Every one."

"I gotta say, that sounds like a fairy tale," Ryan said.

"Or a foundation myth for your people," Jess suggested. "No offense."

"Nah, none taken, it sounds mad as a herd of left shoes," Jake admitted. "But it's true. Up until white people moved here, one of the ways our people counted status was tracing their genealogy back to see how many of those children were their ancestors. Our islands have a small population so within a couple of centuries everyone was descended from at least one of them. But a lot of generations happen in 800 years and those kids went everywhere, so by now everyone is descended from a hell of a lot of them."

"You guys must get a lot of birth defects," Ryan observed.

"You'd think so, but our rate of birth defects is among the lowest in the world," Jake told them with a shrug. "Most folks think the magic done then still hangs on somehow. Or maybe we're just lucky."

"Alright, let's just accept all that no matter how insane it sounds," Jessica said. "What happened to Ratu and...Fa'ahotu? Are they still alive?"

"Nah, that'd be crazy," Jake said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Right, because the rest of it makes so much sense," Jessica said dryly.

"The stories say neither of them ever got sick a day in their lives after that. They aged, but not much and not fast. They looked like they were fifty when they were two hundred. One day they announced that they were going to die, and then they sat down and did it with smiles on their faces, as peaceful as you please."

Ryan leaned back and crossed his arms. "So you're saying that's going to happen to us? Because I really don't want to knock my own mother up every year until she's ninety."

"That's what Adouwe's up in the jungle trying to prevent. If anyone can figure this problem out, it's him."

"And you said that's the only time the ceremony's been done?" Jess asked.

"Yeah," Jake nodded. "Those flowers take decades or centuries to bloom and they usually don't do it together. Before you came along they'd only bloomed at the same time once more, about 300 years ago."

"What happened then?" Jess asked.

"When the news spread, people went berserk. Everyone wanted it but there was nobody who stood out as more worthy than anyone else, so fighting started. It got bad fast, and so bad that it was brother against brother and father against son before the end. But the fighting went on for so long that the blossoms withered and died and nobody got them."

"So if this is all so valuable and you live half of forever shooting out babies like a tee-shirt cannon, why did you give it to us?" Ryan demanded.

"Well, Adouwe thought you were married," Jake shrugged.

"No, I mean why us and not someone from the islands?"

"Oh. Well, the little boy you saved is someone special," Jake said, scratching the side of his face. "Or at least he's supposed to be. When we're born the shaman of whatever clan you're a part of reads your birth omens -- I've learned to do it too -- and Anerin's omens came out like nothing anybody had ever seen, so big and bright that the only thing Adouwe could reckon is that Anerin is destined to save us all some day, all our people."

"So along we come and save the one who's going to be the island's savior," Jess nodded slowly. "I guess that would turn some heads. But why not give Anerin the ceremony?"

"Some magics you can work on ankle-biters, like blessings for health or to keep away snakes or mend a broken bone," Jake said. "But the big magics are too much for them -- their bodies and spirits can't handle it, it rips them to bits. And the ceremony we did for you, the pilaliuta, is the biggest magic we've got."

"OK, it makes sense," Jess admitted, although she wasn't quite able to fathom why she would say such a thing about such a bonkers story. "You had the ability to perform the blessing for a very limited time and we were the only ones who stood out as doing something big for your island."

"Forget the stories, we didn't come up here for Brothers Grimm," Ryan said. "We need answers. We need solutions. What do we do?"

Across the table, Jess rubbed her thighs together unconsciously, not even realizing how much Ryan's commanding tone was turning her on.

"My advice is to wait for Adouwe to get back," Jake said. "He's the most knowledgeable shaman on these islands, not that there's many others left. Like I said, he can tell you more than I can. We've also sent messengers to everyone who knows anything about the old ways but we haven't heard back from them. How long are you going to be on the island?"

"We fly out six days from now, first thing in the morning," Jess told him.

Jake made a You're shit out of luck face and inhaled sharply through his teeth.

"Don't," Ryan warned him. "Don't do the breath thing, that's never a good sign."

"Listen, this is a really hard problem. I'm willing to bet my gran's gold teeth that even the shamans who thought the ceremony up never considered how it could be reversed. You reverse curses, but who ever heard of a blessing being reversed?"

"Is there any hope?" Jess asked quietly.

"Course there is," Jake said, obviously making an effort to sound positive. "But Adouwe can tell you more so it would be best if you -- "

"Wait for Adouwe," Ryan and Jess finished together.

"Bing, that," Jake nodded, shooting Ryan with a jaunty finger gun. "Anyway, I was just in the middle of some experiments with some different plants to see if I could come up with anything and I should probably get back to them. Will you two be alright here for a while?"

Ryan wasn't at all sure they would be and the look he exchanged with his mother said she felt the same doubts, but right now it seemed much more important for Jake to get back to work than to hold their hands. "Yeah, go on. Where will you be?"

"Behind that house right over there."

"We'll shout if we need anything," Ryan told him.

Jessica waited for Jake to leave and then turned to her son. "I'm not sure how much of that I buy but it all sounded bad."

"Yeah, it's as batshit as the shit of a bat," Ryan said. "But...I don't know if this makes sense, but...it felt true. I don't know if you -- "

"No," she cut him off quietly. "It did to me too."

"I was really hoping you'd tell me I was wrong."

She stared at the full whiskey glass on the table, then picked it up and knocked back a quarter of it in one go. "Sorry. I needed that."

"Don't drink too much, you'll need to drive us down the mountain again. I'd sent us off a cliff."

She nodded. Both were silent for some minutes, each perusing dark thoughts and listening to the alien sounds of the jungle outside. Finally she said, "I think we need to come up with a plan. You know, in case Adouwe and Jake don't."

"The only magic I know is a couple of card tricks." Pause. "And only one of those involves actual sorcery."

She smiled mirthlessly. "I mean, if they can't undo this and...and we keep dreaming and having these...fugues...we'll need to have a plan to handle it so things don't get out of hand between us."

"I guess we need to stay away from each other as much as possible. You know, not be alone together, not be in the same room..." Even as he said it, Ryan's heart gave a twisting, clenching lurch like it was actually going to physically break at the thought of being that far away from her.

Jess looked up at him, plainly trying to speak, but all she managed was a sort of jerky, gun-to-the-head nod.

"I mean, I spend all day with Lexy anyway and you've got your booze ladies. It shouldn't be too hard to keep space between us while we're on the island."

"And what happens when we get home?"

Ryan had no answer for that. Their house back in Milwaukee wasn't small but it was no mansion; they couldn't be more than sixty feet from each other there. "Maybe I can stay in my old treehouse."

"Sounds delightful in a Wisconsin winter."

"There is that," he conceded. "I mean maybe...maybe when we get away from the islands this will all blow over."

His mother locked eyes with him, and he knew in that instant she was thinking about blowing him. Unbidden a taboo porn video began playing in his head of her crawling under the table, undoing his shorts, and pulling out his rock-hard erection, admiring it for a long moment, and then swallowing it down like a pelican taking a herring --

"I think I'd better wait outside," she said abruptly, lurching to her feet.

"No, I'll go," he said as he stood. "You'll fry to a crisp in ten minutes out there. I don't want to have sex with you, but I don't want to bury your charred remains either."

"You'd better take the whiskey," she said, sitting back down. "I won't be held responsible if I'm left unsupervised."

"Trish Hendricks would be proud."

"Trish Hendricks would already be underneath you."

True enough, given her brazen offer of the day before. He gathered the three whiskey glasses, poured their contents into one tumbler, snared the bottle, and headed outside.

Jessica watched him go, then turned a chair so she could look out the window at the river. The last time they had seen it, Ryan had pulled a child out of it and saved the boy's life. It might have been better to let him drown. Oh there it is, the worst thing I've ever thought, good job. Now I'm the asshole.

None of it was the kid's fault. None of it was anyone's fault as far as she could tell, except maybe the old man who let enthusiasm for a reward override his caution. Well, OK, it was a hundred percent his fault, fuck that guy. Ryan better hold her back when Adouwe showed up...or maybe she'd have to hold him back. Well somebody better hold somebody, that was all she knew.

As troubling as everything else was, one thing was at the forefront of her mind: when she had been discussing with Ryan how to avoid each other once they got back home, a very obvious idea had occurred to her: she could send him to live somewhere else, like with her sister in Chicago or to a boarding school. She'd even tried to say as much, but when she did she almost panicked at the thought of being separated from him; her tongue twisted like a fish in her mouth and she couldn't speak, not even the first word of the sentence she wanted to say. Even now, thinking of him living anywhere but with her felt like a knitting needle in the heart.

But they had to do something. The way the dreams and the impulses had escalated over just a few days, what would they be like in a month? Six months? A year? How long could they avoid doing something ruinous? How long would they even want to avoid it?

"Damn it," she muttered aloud, "when Adouwe gets back I am going to kick his scrawny butt to Tahiti."

Time passed, the temperature rose, rain fell in blinding sheets and rose as clouds of mist, and jungle bugs decided she was a buffet. She paced from one end of the small house to the other more times than she could count. Outside Ryan found a stick washed up on the shore and was thumping a rock with it rhythmically as he sat on another rock, dangling his feet in the river; she was denied even that minimal diversion. She checked her watch every minute and each time was dismayed that only a minute had passed since the last time. Her phone had no signal. Her temper wore thinner with every step she took.

Her mind wandered until it fixed itself on the story of Ratu and Fa'ahotu. It was absurd story, an obvious foundational myth -- maybe there had been a war and a story had grown up that they were all descended from a legendarily fecund couple of magic ancestors as a way to end conflicts and bind over old wounds. That made a lot more sense than the idea of a woman kicking out sixty healthy, beautiful, wonderful children in as many years, all with a man who stayed young and virile and fucked her hard and deep whenever she needed it...

And the last thing she wanted was more children! Two were more than enough, and she was perimenopausal and the odds of her becoming pregnant were slim to none...but it would be hot if Paul could get one more into her, wouldn't it? Feeling that life grow, feeling her body change, knowing she had created a whole human being with the husband she loved...nothing could be better, more fulfilling than that. And when she gave birth, she and Ryan could start work on the next, and then the next after that -- but no more than five or six! No matter how perfect it felt to carry her son's children, the idea of bearing more than eight or nine was ridiculous --

She shook her head and made an inarticulate sound of rage. She couldn't even think naughty thoughts about her own husband anymore without Ryan taking over!

"Seetsahm." She turned and saw that Ryan had entered the house. "What are we doing?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, her arousal soaring with every moment he looked at her.

"Why are we fighting this? What's wrong with us?"

"Because I'm married to your father and I'm your mother and it would rip this family to shreds if we..." She faded off. Her words were meaningless noise. "I don't know, babe. We could have so much together."

"I want it," he told her, crossing the room to her and putting his hands around her to rest possessively on the small of her back. "I want you. I want us. I want our kids. I want our lives together. We're being offered something better than anyone else in the world has had for eight centuries and we're pissing and moaning about it. I'm done doing that."

She looked up at his handsome face and imagined it being the first thing she saw when she woke up -- every morning for the next 150 years. It was too much, too good, too pure to fight. She'd have to be an idiot to say no. "I'm done too. I can't walk away from this gift. I can't walk away from you. I want you."

His response was the obvious one: he leaned in and kissed her. She kissed him back and began unbuttoning his shirt with swift movements of her nimble fingers; a moment later she was sliding her hands inside, along his flanks and his broad chest, reveling in the sensation of his skin and his heat.

His hands were busy too, tugging her dress up and up until she had to step back to let him pull it up and off. She stood before him in her bra and panties, her boring, sensible underthings. If only she had worn something lacy, something satiny, something sheer, anything sexy for the first time he saw her this way! But from the avid look in his eyes he didn't seem to care what she was wearing, only that she was the one wearing it.

She took the opportunity to push his shirt off his shoulders and then begin on his shorts. The thing she wanted most was tenting them something fierce, and she paused to run her fingertips over the bulge; she giggled when it twitched under her caress. Then she undid the button, and then she undid the fly, and then she slipped her hands down his sides and into the waistband of his underwear. Another push and he was naked, his beautiful cock pointing to her like a compass arrow.

But he wasn't idle. He reached behind her back and, with a single motion, undid her bra. Another motion had pulled the straps down from her shoulders, and with a single shrug she sent it falling to the floor. He stepped away enough that he could look down at her bare breasts; the delight she saw in his eyes filled her with pride, and she arched her back to push out her chest for his inspection.

And her panties...well hell, her panties were just in the way. She pushed them down and stepped out of them, and when the came together again they were naked just like they were supposed to be, flesh against flesh, heat against heat, the whole lengths of their bodies. When they kissed it felt like her entire body burst into flame.

Her arms went over his shoulders and around her neck and his hands grabbed her ass in a tight grip. He lifted and she instantly understood -- she hopped up, pressing her body to his while she wrapped her legs around his waist. His arms went under her knees and her hands went back to her ass, and an instant later he was lifting her just a little more, then letting her drop a bit --

His cock was aimed perfectly. It slid into her as she descended, filling her up, impaling her on it helplessly. The biggest thrill she had ever had whirled through her as she thought, He's in me, where he belongs, where he'll be again and again and again for years and years...
And then her legs began to move in time with the insistent urging of his hands and they were making love, the purest and most perfect love anyone had ever made. Their motion was instinctual, their heartbeats synced, their breath shared. This was what the both needed. This was what they had both needed since long before either of them were born.

This was completion.

His mouth moved away from hers just enough to whisper, "Does it feel good?"

"Oh God..."

"When I come, I'm going to shoot straight into your womb."

"Oh God!"

"Do you want that? Do you want my cum in you?"

"Oh fuck babe of fuck oh fuck, you know I do! You know I need it."

"Why?"

"For the baby..."

"What baby?"

"Ours. The first...the first of so many..."

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes!"

"You want me to get you pregnant?"

"YES!"

"Tell me."

"Oh shit oh fuck babe please please please come in me! Come deep and knock me up! I want to feel our love growing inside me and our babies will be so perfect! I need you to impregnate me!"

"Ma'am?" Jake's voice yanked her hard back into reality to find herself sitting on the edge of the table, legs spread wide, panties pushed to the side and a pair of fingers buried in her snatch to the last knuckle. She squeaked an alarm, frantically looking around, first for Ryan -- he wasn't there -- and then for Jake, who seemed to be waiting outside at the entrance of the house.

"Just a minute!" she yelled unnecessarily loudly, her hands flying to make herself decent. A glance out the window showed Ryan by the river still, but she would have sworn he was hurriedly zipping his shorts up while blushing to put tomatoes to shame. One last check showed her to be arranged as well as she could arrange herself, although there was little she could do about the smell of her arousal clinging to the heavy, still air. "Come in."

An acutely uncomfortable Jake appeared, eyes determinedly on the floor. "I didn't see anything, I promise. Adouwe's back. I'll...um...fetch your son."

She groaned and buried her face in her hands as the apprentice shaman left. Nobody leads with "I didn't see anything" unless they'd seen everything. Jake had walked in on her fingering herself like a lunatic while imagining her son knocking her up, and of course Jake knew what she was masturbating to and oh God this all somehow kept getting worse!

A few seconds later Ryan entered the room, looking shellshocked, and asked, "Did you see..."

"Yes," she said miserably. "It felt completely real."

"Totally. Yeah." She could smell the whiskey on his breath and realized that he had hit the stuff pretty hard while waiting; she couldn't blame him. He pulled out a chair and sat down, and after a moment she joined him, sitting across the table from him to put as much distance between them as possible.

The door opened again and Jake entered, leading Adouwe, and the old man looked like he'd gone 12 rounds with a royally pissed Muhammad Ali. His face was essentially a large bruise, both eyes were blackened, and half his cranium was covered in a crude bandage that was tied like a sunhat under his chin. His arms were covered in welts and he walked with a noticeable limp that hadn't been present before.

As angry at the old man as they were, neither Ryan nor Jess could help but wincing at the sight, and Ryan said, "Man, looks like your mom really gave you a going-over."

"Eh?" Adouwe asked as he eased himself like fine china into an empty chair. "The Old Woman's not my mother."

"Wife?" Jess asked.

"Dear Christ no!" Adouwe replied with genuine horror. "She's just the Old Woman."

"Does she have a name?" Jess asked.

"Seems likely," Adouwe conceded.

Jake was at the back of the room digging in the cupboards, producing a fresh bottle of bourbon, a glass, and a liter bottle of aspirin. He set all three in front of Adouwe, who took an unhealthy amount of aspirin and washed it down with an unhealthy amount of Jim Beam. Jess was alarmed and pointed out, "You probably shouldn't take that much..."

"I shouldn't have done the ceremony on you either," Adouwe pointed out. "And if I hadn't done then what I shouldn't have done, then I wouldn't have had to do what I shouldn't have done now."

"I think I followed that," Ryan said with a furrowed brow.

"So, yeah, sorry," Adouwe told them. "That may be the most useless thing I've ever said, but it's true for what it's worth. But you didn't come here for apologies."

Ryan and Jess exchanged a look; they were still angry, but it was difficult to go off on a wizened old man who'd had the shit kicked out of him a few days before. Finally Ryan said, "We were hoping to get the ceremony reversed or canceled or whatever."

"It can't be reversed," Adouwe said, then groaned and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "At least I don't know how to do it, and if I don't know then nobody else does either. What I'm hoping is that between all the shamans we can come up with something to counteract it. But first I need to know exactly what you've been going through. Don't leave out any details."

Mother and son exchanged another glance, this time complete with deep blushes, before Jess said, "It's...embarrassing..."

Adouwe sighed and waved a weary hand. "I'm an old man. I started training to be a shaman when I was five years old. That means I've seen and heard of everything people can do to each other, good and bad. You won't shock me, but you might give me some little piece of information that turns out to be the key to setting you two the right way up again."

They couldn't argue that, and soon enough Ryan and Jess were pouring their story out, and discovering that it was actually a relief to tell it to somebody. They talked about their dreams -- precisely the same in every detail for each of them -- as well as their increased arousal, physical changes, irrepressible sexual fantasies, waking visions, and loss of control.

When they were done, both Adouwe and Jake seemed lost in thought, and then they began speaking the native language to each other. Their discussion lasted far past the point were Ryan and Jessica became uncomfortable before finally switching back to English, with Adouwe saying, "As nearly as we can reckon it, your spirits are being...fused."

"Huh?" Ryan and Jess asked simultaneously.

"Things happen at the same time on two...well, I suppose you'd call them planes of existence," Jake explained. "There's the physical, which is what you see and smell and hear and touch, and then there's the spiritual, where our...essences, I guess you'd say, operate. Our souls, maybe, though that's not the right term."

"The spiritual plane is where we get out power from, the energy that makes each of us different from everything else, even though we're all a part of the same thing," Adouwe said. "Everything, living or not, has that essence, and people have the most of all mortal things. Now normally our spirits...well it's hard to explain, but let's say they touch each other, when we do things that affect other people. Physical actions, emotions, words, even thoughts, they all...damn it, I can't say it in English."

"A way to think of it would be color," Jake supplied. "Every spiritual essence has its own color, unique among everything that's ever lived, and every time time one touches another it takes on a little of the color of the other. It's a permanent change, and it can be huge or tiny depending on what it is. Spend your life in love with the same person or kill someone and that's a big change; wave to someone or say hello and that's a little one. But no matter how many and how big the changes are, the color remains unique, remains the individual you call you."

"I think I understand the idea," Jess nodded.

"But what's happening to you two on the spiritual plane is different," Adouwe picked up. "Because of the ceremony, your individual colors are changing into a single, third color. Your spirits are...well, they're becoming a single spirit. Your bodies on the physical plane are remaining separate things, but on the spiritual plane you're becoming a single person."

Ryan leaned forward and said, "I caught zero logic in all that. And that last bit? Pure gibberish."

Jake frowned but said, "OK, different example. Let's say you've got two...rugs, whatever, different colors. If you washed them together each might take on some of the color of the other but the colors would still be different -- that's what's normally happens when spirits touch each other. But lets say that instead of washing them you pulled them apart right down to their fibers and wove the fibers into a new rug. The fibers are now all jumbled up so when you look at it, it looks like a new color that's a combination of the other two. The fibers still exist so in a way both rugs still exist, but they're now each an inseparable part of the other and they make a new color that didn't exist before. Your spirits are in the process of being unraveled down to their tiniest fibers and woven together into something new. Once that process is completed, you'll be one thing forever."

Ryan ran both sets of fingers through his hair and muttered, "This is such bullshit."

Jess was quieter -- what Adouwe and Jake were saying was making a troubling kind of sense. "Can the process be stopped?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Adouwe nodded. His two black eyes made him look like a raccoon in a red tee shirt. "We're doing everything we can but we don't have a solution yet."

"Look, you guys drugged us," Ryan said. "You gave us some strong-ass hallucinogens and we're tripping out, right? But drugs have antidotes. Or they wear off on their own. It can't be that hard!"

"You said it yourself," Jess told him quietly. "Drugs don't explain this. Nothing rational can explain this."

Ryan looked like he wanted to say something pointed in objection, but he didn't. What could he say?

"Jake tells me you're leaving in six days," Adouwe said. "Day after tomorrow, every shaman in these islands is going to be in this village, putting their heads together about this. It will take a while, because this is a bloody huge problem and no bloody huge problem has a simple solution. We'll need you to come back on the morning of your last full day here. Be prepared to stay until dark, because it might take that long."

"OK, but we need something now," Ryan said, jabbing the table with his finger. "The way things are going I might already have gotten mom pregnant by then."

"I'm on birth control, you could do come inside me as much as you wanted to and I wouldn't get pregn -- OH!" Jess covered her mouth with her hands, eyes wide.

"That kind of unwanted admission is the sort of thing that might happen," Jake said. "And worse. Remember, you're being pulled together by forces you can't see and they're very insistent, so be prepared for it."

"Ryan suggested that we avoid being alone together," Jess said. "Is that a good idea?"

"That's a good start. I'd avoid being alone as much as you can," Adouwe said. "If you go into the sort of state that you already have a couple of times today, someone else there to say something might pull you out of it before it goes too far. But if you're both alone then you might get drawn together and do something you shouldn't."

"But...we've done some embarrassing things..." Jess pointed out delicately. "I'd rather be embarrassed alone in my room than in front of everyone I know on the island."

"It's your choice," Adouwe said. "Just know that the more time you spend with each other, or the more time you spend alone, the more your spirit-selves will take control."

"Spirit-selves my ass," Ryan muttered, pushing his chair away from the table and standing up. "Come on mom, let's get out of here, this is a waste of time."

"My time, and Jake's, might be better spent looking for a solution," Adouwe admitted. "Remember what I said, and come back here the day before you leave."

"We will," Jess said, rising from the table. Perhaps Ryan wasn't being particularly polite, but he wasn't wholly wrong: from a practical point of view, this trip had been a waste of time. The shamans had to put their heads together to solve this problem, and the presence of Ryan and herself were only distractions. "Thank you."

"What are you thanking them for?" Ryan demanded. "I'll thank them when they figure this out. Until then it's their goddamned fault."

Jess winced, but again Ryan had a point.

Before he left the room, he turned and glared at Adouwe and Jake and said, "If you guys don't fix this shit, I am cursing your asses. I'm laying the smack down on everyone on these stupid islands. You'll wish that kid had never been born when I'm done with you."

The two shamans looked genuinely frightened and assured Ryan and his mother that they would do everything they could; in fact, they assured them that about a dozen times as they headed back to the jeep, and they were still assuring them when they drove away.

When they were two minutes out of the village, Jess asked her son, "Can you really curse them like you said?"

"If those clowns can lay curses, how hard can it be?" he asked. "Spirit colors, ghost rugs -- they must take us for idiots."

"You didn't feel like...there was something to it? I didn't want to believe it any more than you do, but what they said felt like the truth, or at least as close as they could come."

"It's all just drugs and hallucinations," he insisted, his jaw set at a stubborn angle as he stared at the track ahead.

"Maybe you're right," she said. "But let's take precautions. Let's not be alone together...let's not even talk unless we have to. The less contact we have, the less chances for one of those 'hallucinations' to happen."

He nodded, then, "I do have to say one thing: I don't know if I even want one kid, much less sixty. Imagine the debt just to put them through school."

They spoke little on the way back to the hotel -- maybe they were both afraid to, uncertain as they were as to what perversions they might spout if they started to talk -- and nothing untoward happened. Nothing, that is, except for the growing sexual excitement that left Jess' dress soaked through and her seat wet when she finally got out of the jeep, and left a large precum stain on Ryan's shorts -- and the fact that getting so horny in each other's company seemed so normal that neither of them thought it odd.

Ryan went down to the beach when they arrived while Jess joined the Frauen-Trinkclub. Ryan was alone on the beach for a short time, however, as Lexy was aboard the first bus returning from the worksite; just as he was heading back to the hotel for dinner, he saw her lugging a heavy picnic basket and blanket his way. He ran to her, kissed her, and relieved her of her burdens. A few moments later they were busy eating, and he asked, "So how was your day?"

"Dull, if I were to be honest!" she laughed. "All I did all day was stare at construction. All the big machines moving about was quite interesting for an hour, but after that I began wishing I was back here with you. How was yours?"

"It was...I ended up taking another driving expedition with my mom."

"Oh! Did you save any more children from certain death?"

"No, nothing that gratifying. It was...hell, I don't even want to talk about it. It was very annoying and useless."

"Oh no! Your mother seems to be quite a sweet lady to me, but I suppose I'm not her child."

"It wasn't her fault. Just...stuff we ran into. People being idiots. I just...wanted it to be a productive day and instead it was a waste of time and energy."

"Awww, my hero sounds grumpy," she pouted. "Maybe there's something I can do to cheer you up?"

Ryan smiled. "Yeah, that would be great. I could really use it."

As the young couple was off finding a quiet spot to indulge, Paul was just climbing onto the hotel's deck after disembarking from the last worksite bus. He greeted his wife with a wave, and she greeted him by grabbing him by the collar and hauling him up to their room.

It was predictable by now: the sex was wonderful but neither son nor mother could climax without thinking of the other. Unbeknownst to each other, they both had the same vision -- Ryan taking Jess like a dog on the beach, in broad daylight and unashamed, him swatting her ass as he pummeled her, she working his cock like she was born to it and begging him to knock her up. They both finished at the same instant with gasping, convulsive orgasms, and they both felt the same shame when they were done.

Day Six

Jess woke with a soft, pained groan. Her dream -- or whatever -- had been long, endless. Ryan was fucking a shorter, younger, brunette version of her over and over again -- fucking Seetsahm. She'd orgasmed in her sleep more than once, but she had no idea how many times. If it had been her husband in her dream instead of her son, it would have been the greatest dream she had ever had instead of the worst.

And as rapturous as that had been, she could feel the consequences of it. She felt like she'd been fucked all night by a football squad, just pummeled and forced to orgasm over and over and now she was bruised and sore and --

Wait -- why was her pussy bruised? It was a dream! How could she be bruised by a dream? And did that mean...

Ignoring the soreness, she vaulted from bed and dashed to the bathroom. In her dreams Ryan had come in her pussy, her ass, her mouth, her face, and her hair, and she had a terrible feeling about what she would see when the lights went on. But on the bathroom light went -- and she was clean. Well, no not clean clean, she was dripping with sweat and reeked of sex and looked like she'd been rode hard and put up wet, but she was apparently semen-free.

Will miracles never cease.

She climbed into the shower. Her hope for hot water was disappointed, but the cold water actually felt good, invigorating and even healing -- she could feel it wash away the pain and soreness like dust. When she stepped out of the shower she felt revived and strong, like she could go down to her son's room and get another half-dozen orgasms on his dick; it didn't occur to her how inappropriate a thought that was until later when she was at breakfast.

She began brushing her hair, focusing on that simple mechanical task. Two minutes in, though, something began to occur to her: her hair was different. The length was the same, the color, the straightness, but there had been a change during the night. Like most gingers, Jess had thin hair with fewer follicles per square inch than most people with other hair colors have. Today, though, her hair was thicker, heavier, with much more body than it normally had. It was such an unexpected development that it took her several minutes to satisfy herself that she wasn't just imagining it.

She slammed her brush down and glared into the mirror. More changes! More madness. It wasn't that any of the changes in her body were bad -- any aging woman would welcome younger skin and thicker hair. It was that they were impossible. She knew the island's doctor would be of no assistance with it, but she couldn't get too angry with him: she was pretty sure the best medical minds in the world would be overwhelmed at what was happening with her body.

She was also sure they'd put her in a rubber room if she told them everything else that was going on.

Ryan almost ran down the hall, moving so quickly that he had gone two doors past the one he wanted before he realized it. He threw a look each way then hustled back, pausing to take one last look over his shoulder before he knocked. The next four seconds took seventeen hours to pass, but the door did open.

"Well hello cutie," Trish Hendricks said in her unreconstructed Southie accent, leaning against the door frame. She was wearing pink -- pink pumps, pink thigh-highs, and a pink teddy so sheer it did nothing to hide her pink nipples, pink panties so tiny that they barely covered her pink slit. Even her lipstick was pink. "What a surprise!"
It was not a surprise. He had texted her and they had spoken and arranged this tryst just this morning. Ryan, on the other hand, was a little surprised he had done so, given that Lexy would be ready to take him all day today, but the intensity of the dream he'd had last night was off the charts. He wasn't sure how many orgasms he'd had, but judging by the state of his bed he had come to put a horse to shame. He should be exhausted and spent, but he was rampant, raging to go again -- and Lexy wouldn't do. Lexy was sweet, willing, and gorgeous, but this morning he needed a mature woman like he needed oxygen. To be more precise, he needed his mom, but with her obviously unavailable, Trish Hendricks was next best.

Not that Trish was a consolation prize. Rumors had it that she was well used, so to speak, but she was an attractive woman who kept herself in awesome condition. Before all this with his mom, Ryan thought Trish was a smokeshow; now she was the most distant of seconds. But she was here and DTF and that was all that mattered.

"Hi," he said quickly. "Can I come in?"

"Mmmmaybe. What's the magic word?"

"The magic word is the Garzas' rooms are on this hall so please let me inside."

Trish grinned and stepped back and Ryan almost jumped into the room. She shut the door behind him. "Can I offer you a drink? Or some weed? It's illegal here but the desk clerk sold me some of the best stuff I've ever had, says he grows it in his shed."

"Oh, uh...no, I'm fine, thanks." Ryan said, shifting from foot to foot.

"Maybe you'd better have a shot of Scotch, you look nervous as hell!" she laughed, crossing to the minibar, where she retrieved a pair of shot glasses a half-empty bottle of Glenfiddich. As she poured two large shots, she said, "I had this specially flown in from Brisbane. I don't even let my husband have any. Here."

Ryan accepted the glass, but before he drank he said, "Yeah, about your husband?"

She laughed as she sat on her bed and leaned back on one elbow. "What about him?" Ryan started to stammer something but she cut him off with a gesture. "My husband and I married for a lot of reasons, most of which would be boring for you and none of which involve sex. I'm free to do what I want with whoever I want to do it with."

Ryan considered that. "Is he a cuck?"

"Are you asking if he gets off on watching me have sex with other people, or hearing about it later? Then no, he is not a cuck in that sense of the word. He just doesn't care what I get up to as long as he doesn't need to deal with it either directly or indirectly. I just happen to be fucking insatiable."

"So he wouldn't be mad if he found out?"

"He'd be less interested in that than in what I had for breakfast last Thursday." She paused, then added, "It was a Belgian waffle with fresh mango slices, by the way."

"I'll let him know about the breakfast," Ryan mumbled, then down the shot in one swallow.

Trish squawked in alarm. "That's Glenfiddich 21, not fucking J&B! Have some respect!"

"Huh? Oh...sorry, I don't know much about whiskey."

"I guess not," she chuckled. "Set that glass down and let's find out why you came here..."

Ryan lost his clothes quickly but inelegantly and stepped toward the bed. "Hold on," she told him, holding up a hand. Let me look first. I like to see what I'm working with. Give me a turn...yummy. I knew you'd be a knockout naked. Swimmers always have insane bodies."

"Thanks...um...you look great too."

"Sweet-talker. Get over here."

It was prolonged and vigorous, and Ryan found himself fantasizing about his mother almost immediately. Their first time was missionary, and even though he was lying on Trish, all he could see was his mother's beautiful eyes staring into his as she begged him to seed her, to breed her, to fuck the first of many children into her; the second was from behind, his fingers wrapped in Trish's blonde hair while he imagined Jess' ginger locks (or were they chocolate brown?); the last time was her shoulders on the bed with her ass in the air while he did his best to pile-drive her through the mattress and she told him that this was such an amazing position to get pregnant.

When they were done and lying in a sweaty heap on soaked sheets, Trish curled herself around him and chuckled. "Wow. I knew you had a thing for your mom, but..."

Ryan jerked away. "W-what?"

"What?"

"What did you say..."

"Your mom," Trish repeated. "You know, how you started calling me mom three minutes in and kept doing it the whole time?"

Ryan gaped. He had no memory of that whatsoever -- but then, as he looked back, he had no real memory of Trish either. In his memory the whole morning had been spent with his mother. I should be panicking at this. Go ahead, panic. Why am I not panicking? Finally he gave a sheepish shrug and said, "Sorry."

"Don't apologize!" she laughed, nudging him playfully. "It's hot, and she obviously feels the same as you do."

"...really?" OBVIOUSLY?!?

"Ever since you saved that kid, she's been eye-fucking you," Trish grinned, tweaking his nipple. "I can't blame her, I've wanted to fuck you since then too. Well, I wanted to fuck you before that. And I finally got to."

"Uh...yeah, you did."

"Has she?"

"No!"

She laughed. "The way you said that makes me think you've done something with her though."

"No. Just in my dreams."

"Hers too, I bet," Trish said.

That's a bet you'd win. "Listen, you aren't going to tell anybody about this, are you?"

"About you and me? Or you and her?"

"Yes."

"Believe it or not, I can keep a secret when I have to. Yours are safe with me."

He wasn't sure that was true, but he had no choice but to trust her. "Thanks." Pause, then, "Want to go again?"

"Jesus Christ, kid, you want to kill me? My twat's already battered purple. Of course I want to go again."

"How long after you return home do you go back to work, Jess?" Felicia, the British wife, asked.

"I'm due back in the office one week to the day after we touch down," Jess sighed. "Not looking forward to it."

"It's going to be hard to go back to the office," Erika, the German, sighed. "So many belligerent men and no Pacific Ocean to swim in."

"And no mai tais on the deck at 1:15 in the afternoon," Trish said. She was well into her second.

Jess glanced at the Bostonian. She had appeared much later than usual today, and the fact that she was walking like a saddlesore cowboy told Jess all she wanted to know about her previous whereabouts. "It's the deadlines I'm not looking forward to. I like everyone I work with, I enjoy the work, the commute is tolerable -- but I've gotten very used to not having anything on my docket that I need to get done yesterday."

"It's so hard to be away from Erik," sighed Vilde, the Dane. "I don't mind about going back to work or any of the rest. I just wish I didn't have to sleep alone."

"My husband is staying here when I go back," Trish laughed, "and I don't intend to sleep alone a single night. We all have options."

"Unfortunately, not all of us as as morally flexible as you," Jess said dryly.

"Girlie, I'm flexible in allll kinds of ways," Trish replied with a leer. This was greeted by a generalized eye-roll and two of the women making a jerk-off motion. "Quiet bitches, you envy my acrobatics. Anyway Jess isn't going home alone, she's got a big, strapping son to take care of her."

Jess blushed so red she almost burst into flames. "Not that way!"

"No, but I bet he gives amazing hugs," Trish sighed. "Imagine coming home to that every day. I admit, I'd be tempted."

A round of "Ewws!" rose right on time from the table; everyone joined except Jess, who was looking very worried indeed.

There was a timelessness about the beach parties. On a tropical island the weather was the same every night; Ranu Ratu was close enough to the equator that sunset never varied much; the faces never changed; the drinks were the same, the music, the dancing, the chatting. The Beach Party was, the Beach Party is, the Beach Party shall be. Amen.

"I don't understand it," Lexy was saying to Ryan.

"I don't understand why you're confused," he answered.

"You don't? Really?"

"I'm eighteen!" he said, spreading his hands helplessly. "I'm supposed to think about sex all day!"

"Yes, but not do it all day. That thing should be worn down to a nub by now!"

"Oh, you're exaggerating."

"Six hours straight, chico. How many times did you come?"

"I dunno...seven or eight. Why, how many times did you?"

"That's not the point," she told him. "I'm worried about you. You weren't like this when we started. It's not normal. If you had one day like this then fine, but it's every day, every time I see you lately. I almost feel like I need a break from you just to heal."

Ryan frowned. He had fucked Trish for almost four hours straight, taken a short break for food, and gone after Lexy just as hard for even longer -- and almost the whole time he'd thought of his mother. It was all fucked up, but even aside from that, how long could it go on just from a physical standpoint? He was young and in great shape and he felt better than he ever remembered feeling. But as much sweat as he'd been working up and as much cum as he'd been shooting, he should be a desiccated husk by now.

Magic. That fucking ceremony again. This is insane, and she's right, I need to get it under control or it's going to drive me nuts. "I have any idea. Tomorrow we'll take one of the boats and sail out to the other islands. We can stay out until it gets dark. And I promise I'll keep it in my pants the whole time."

She eyed him dubiously. "All day?"

"Except to pee over the side."

"Promise?"

He held up three fingers together. "Scout's Honor."

She peered at the hand sign and considered for a moment, then said, "I have no idea what that means."

"It means I promise. It's the most sacred vow I can give. If I lie, a herd of Boy Scouts appear from thin air and beat the crap out of me."

She giggled. "And what will these boys do to me?"

"Help you cross the street safely, whether you want to or not."

"They sound dangerous, these boys."

"Oh yeah, American cities are plagued by roving gangs of scouts dragging old people from one side of the street to the other to get their 'Helping the Elderly' merit badges."

"I'm glad we don't have scouts in Spain, they sound like a terrible menace."

"What? You don't have scouts in Spain?"

"We do but there aren't very many of them and everyone thinks they're Falangistas."

"What does that mean?"

"It means they don't get invited to the fun parties."

"Poor Scouts."

"Yeah. Want something to drink?"

"I can get it -- "

"No no," she said, raising a hand. "After what you did to me today I need to walk it off. What do you want?"

"Pineapple juice with a splash of rum?"

"I'll be right back," she told him.

Moments before, only thirty yards away, Jess and Paul had been dancing. Dancing in sand required (and indeed allowed for) no particular skill, so they both looked pretty good doing it. She'd dragged Paul up to their room when he'd gotten back from work, but the only orgasm she could get was imagining herself up on the kitchen counter at home, staring into her son's eyes as he pumped her full of his baby. In a few days she and Ryan would be in that kitchen for real, and Lord help the whole family if the brain trust of these islands couldn't fix the problem before then.

"The main slowdown is materials," Paul was telling her. "These islands don't make one single thing that's going into the resort, so it all has to be shipped in from abroad. That means we're at the mercy of a shipping clerk in Guangzhou or a customs official in Auckland to stay on schedule. And every single person of that type is an officious little prick who has to justify their existence by randomly delaying cargoes."

Jess considered that. "So you're saying that..."

"I'm saying we might finish on schedule or a year late, and I have no idea when," he shrugged.

"Well thank God they're paying you masses of money. And that this resort will have your name on the lips of everyone who wants to build a hotel anywhere in the world."

"Once I get back, though, I am not taking another job that takes me away from you for months or years on end," he said, slipping his arms over her shoulders and letting his hands dangle against her shoulder blades. "They could offer me a billion dollars or three and it wouldn't be enough."

"That had better be a promise," she told him seriously. "It's hard without you. It sucks. I know this was the break your career needed, but looking at going home without you and not seeing you until Christmas..."

"I know, babe. It's hard for me too."

But you aren't living with someone you're being magically pulled toward every single day. I don't know how long my will is going to hold up. Even now sometimes I just want to give in -- what's it going to be like when it's just me and him? She put a smile on her face, said, "I know," and buried her head against his chest.

A moment later he chuckled. "Looks like Kim might be getting busy tonight."

Jess glanced over to where their daughter was dancing with one of the construction overseers, a good-looking man from Japan named Matsuo -- well, perhaps less dancing than dry humping while sucking his tongue down her throat. Kim had mostly ignored the guys on this trip, preferring instead to work on the tan that had her as brown as a coconut, but she was twenty-one years old and as entitled to a night of fun as anyone else. "Good for her. She's been pretty uptight lately, getting her eyes rolled back in her head will do her good."

Paul burst out in laughter. "That has to be the least appealing description of sex I have ever heard. You make her sound like a shark feeding."

"Well look at her!" Jess giggled. "She looks like she's trying to swallow his head."

"I'm sure she will...oh wait, you meant the one on his neck. Yes, that too."

Jess giggled again and slapped his chest playfully. They had always been a sex-positive couple and had striven to be that way with her kids too, no matter how stressful that occasionally was. The way Jess looked at it, this trip was a vacation for the whole family, a time to relax and have fun, and sex should be a part of that. It would certainly be fun if she was riding Ryan's cock right now --

DAMN IT!

"Hey, I'm going to go get us some drinks. What's your poison?" Paul asked.

"Bushwhacker."

"Man, you love getting your bush whacked," he quipped, turning to head for the bar as she giggled behind his back.

There was a line at the bar, one that Lexy had just joined. He would be a while. Jess looked around the beach for someone to talk to --

Ryan. Alone. They needed to avoid talking to each other. They needed to avoid each other, period. She needed to go find someone else to talk to, one of the Frauen-Trinkclub, someone safe, someone she wouldn't do anything scandalous with. But she walked as she thought and suddenly she was right next to her son and saying, "Hey babe."

Ryan looked up and smiled. "Hey back. I was just thinking about you."

"Mmm, I'm sure you were," she said with a grin. "Anything you want to share?"

He looked around to see if anyone was close enough to overhear a whisper, and when he saw that there wasn't, he leaned in close and said, "I was just thinking how good it would feel to have the head of my cock hit the back of your throat."

"Oooh!" she said, taking his arm. "I like that. Tell me more."

"I was thinking how hungry you are to suck me off. And you are, aren't you?"

"Of course I am, you know that. Every hole I have wants your cock in it. And I bet those big, beautiful balls of yours have sooo much cum for your mom, don't they?"

"I'd drown you. You couldn't handle it."

Her eyes narrowed. "That sounds like a challenge, mister. I don't back down from challenges."

"Is that right?" he grinned. "I'm willing if you are."

"Willing and eager as fuck," she breathed, letting her warm exhalation dance over his neck.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's head to that grove of trees over there, it's sheltered and Kim hasn't already taken it."

"No."

"No? Where do you want to go instead?"

"Nowhere," Jess said, hear heart hammering like it wanted to rip out of her chest. "Whip it out."

"Right here? Everyone will see."

"Do you care what they think?" Because she certainly did not.

"Dad and Kim will see."

She shrugged. "They're going to find out I'm your cum-hungry little fuckslut sooner or later. I mean, it's going to be hard to hide my belly when you start fucking me pregnant. They might as see it with their own eyes."

"Makes sense to me," he said with a smile as he undid his shorts, and a moment later they and his boxers were around his knees as his cock stood out, hard and proud, from his body.

Jess nibbled her lip for a moment, then grinned and sank to her knees in the sand. She wrapped her hand around his thick shaft -- her fingers couldn't close all the way -- and held it up to inspection. It was perfect, and she extended her tongue and licked along the underside from the base of the shaft to the crown and then back down again. Her son's cock tasted wonderful.

"What the hell?" said the Canadian engineer Brian Scott as he glanced over and saw what was happening. "Mrs. McCullen is sucking her son's cock!"

He had been talking to Nita Garza (Lexy's mom), who looked over and said in an astonished voice, "Wow. Wow! What a shameless whore!"

"You can do better than that, Jess," Trish Hendricks said with a chuckle. "If you're going to be an incest slut, the least you can do is gag on his cock."

Trish was right, of course, and Jess felt a little ashamed that she'd had to have the obvious pointed out to her. She planted a kiss on the tip of Ryan's dick as an apology, and then opened her mouth and began to swallow every inch. It was big -- Paul's wasn't nearly this size, and in fact she hadn't had one this big since before she'd met the man who would become her husband -- but she was a trouper, and an incest slut besides, and she worked her way down until her lips were closed against Ryan's pelvis and her throat was spasming on his shaft.

"Fuck, mom, your mouth is amazing," Ryan breathed, brushing her ginger hair back from her face so he could see her eyes. "Why haven't we been doing this all along?"

Jess had no good answer, and anyway it was rude to talk with her mouth so very, very full. Instead she massaged his shaft with her tongue and throat for several long seconds before she began bobbing her head on it, taking it to the hilt before easing everything out of her mouth except the tip. She was tasting precum, and it was a thrilling flavor that she knew she could never get enough of, just like she knew Ryan would never have enough of her.

"Mom?" Kim's voice came. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Her daughter sounded curiously distressed and Jess couldn't quite imagine why, though she suspected there was a good reason that she had just forgotten in all the excitement.

"What does it look like, Kim?" Ryan asked. "She's sucking me off. You'd better get used to it too, because she's going to be doing it all the time from now on."

"I can't believe this shit," Kim muttered. "Dad is gonna be so pissed when he sees this."

That was probably true, though at the moment Jessica couldn't figure why that ought to matter to her. It certainly didn't matter as much as making her boy feel good! She took him down to the root again and reveled in the pleased grunt he made.

A crowd had gathered now, people she'd known for the whole time she'd been here. The Frauen-Trinkclub, their husbands and boyfriends, the desk man from the hotel, all of them staring and talking. Some of their comments were dismayed, some shocked, some (like Trish's) admiring of her and her son's boldness to do this right in front of everyone. Jess didn't pay any of them very much mind, because all her attention was focused on getting her son off...and he was getting close.
There was a commotion at the edge of the crowd, someone pushing through, and in a moment Paul appeared. His expression was one of pure shock, and he put his hands to the side of his head and tried to speak; nothing came out.

Ryan looked over at his father, whom he idolized and adored, with no apparent concern. "Oh, hey dad. Mom's mine now. You know that fertility blessing when we saved that kid? Well turns out magic works, who'd have thought it?"

"You," Paul finally managed, though it wasn't clear whether he was addressing his wife, his son, or both. "What the FUCK? What are you fucking doing?!"

"I...mmm, fuck, mom can really suck...I'm almost done, dad," Ryan grunted. "I'm gonna feed her and then we -- God damn! -- we can talk...all...you want...FUCK!" He gripped his mother's head with both hands and held it still as he began to fuck her face with hard, fast strokes, balls bouncing off her chin, his cock gagging her with every thrust. She held still and took it like a good girl, eyes watering and mascara running down her cheeks, and felt nothing but triumph for making her boy make those sounds.

He came without warning her, but then he didn't need to: she knew it just from how he had tensed and groaned. His seed splashed into her mouth, and she instantly knew without a doubt that it was the greatest thing she had ever tasted in her life. More was flowing from his balls and still more, but she didn't swallow a drop; no, she needed him to see it, needed him to see her swallow the whole thing in one go, needed him to see her being a good girl. At last he stopped pumping cum and she leaned back, looked into his eyes, and opened her mouth to show the pearly white pool within --

And she was standing right where she had been before she walked over to her son, with Paul still strolling to the bar to get their drinks. And somehow, impossibly, her open mouth was full of her son's delicious semen; she shut it with a click of teeth and stared around wildly, looking for Ryan --

He was right where he had been, staring down in astonishment at the fact that his underwear and shorts were both up around his waist. In absolute bewilderment he looked at Lexy, who was still at the back of the line at the bar. There was no circle around him, Kim was still dancing with the Japanese guy while trying to actually suck his tongue out of his body. Paul hadn't seen anything because nothing had happened, nothing at all except a shared hallucination --

And the fact that her mouth was still brimming with her son's cum. Her first impulse was to spit it out but she was surrounded by people and hacking up a mouthful of jizz would be noticed. There was only one thing she could do, so she did it: as Ryan finally looked at her, she swallowed every thick, sweet drop his vision-self had put there. He looked astonished and mouthed Did you? to which all she could do was nod. Yes, my dear, I just went through what you did, but I ended up with a very special and completely impossible treat.

She couldn't stay on the beach, she needed to get the hell back to her room, brush her teeth, and use a gallon of Listerine Cool Mint mouthwash. She gave Ryan one more look -- he still seemed befuddled, the poor dear -- and set off after her husband. She caught up with him as he got to the back of the line next to Lexy and said, "Hey babe, cancel my drink. I just came over really tired and I'm going to head up to bed."

"Are you OK?" Paul asked. "Do you want me to come with?"

"No, I'll be fine. Maybe I accidentally exposed myself to five seconds of sunlight today, you know how I get. Stay and have fun."

"You don't mind if I get another drink, do you?"

"Knock yourself out. Just don't get drunk and hit on any married women or I'll catch an earful tomorrow."

He laughed. "I promise I'll behave. Good night, babe."

"Good night, babe. I love you so much it hurts sometimes."

Day Seven

Jessica rose from her bed with a sigh. It was almost noon and here she was, as naked as the day she was born. The room smelled like her arousal, a scent so heavy and thick that even the open window did little to dissipate it; this was hardly surprising, given that she had been masturbating continuously since shortly after breakfast.

She and Kim had spent breakfast together. Kim had come from the bed of Matsuo, the construction engineer she had banged stupid the night before, and both women had been in a good mood. For her part, Jessica had dreamed about Ryan again and woke up again to molar-rattling orgasm, but this time her reaction had been different from all the other mornings; instead of feeling angst and depression about dreaming about her son, she had felt content and happy. She knew it was the magic making her feel that way and she knew she ought to be distressed, but it felt so right. And besides, how long could a healthy woman be angry about waking up to a stunning climax every morning?

And so mother and daughter had chatted amiably and pleasantly (Jess' prediction of the night before was proven correct: getting laid had dramatically improved Kim's mood) and had a pleasant breakfast of eggs and toast with melted cheese. Kim had been very complimentary, telling Jess she was looking good and happy; Kim complimenting anyone was a rarity, so Jess enjoyed it.

And then Ryan appeared arm-in-arm with Lexy and Jess' world narrowed to those two young people. Ryan gave his mother a smoldering look that made the faint hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention and her clit stand up hard in her panties -- but it was over in a second and her son was having breakfast with his girl and Jess was left to talk to her daughter. She tried to focus but her eyes kept getting pulled over to Ryan and Lexy's table, and when Kim left to start her daily tanning regimen, Jess immediately stood and made her way to the teens' table. "Good morning!"

Lexy looked up with a bright smile; Ryan looked up with an eye-fucking gaze and then looked down at his bacon sandwich. "Hi mom."

"Hello Mrs. McCullen!" Lexy said enthusiastically. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm doing well. I had a great night -- good dreams. How about you?"

Ryan looked up again, this time with a smirk that said, You know I had the same dreams that you did. "I had a good night too."

"So did I!" Lexy agreed. "I was looking forward to today. Ryan is taking me sailing to some of the other islands."

"Oh, is that right?" Jess asked.

"Yeah, I got the charts from the hotel and rented a boat and everything," Ryan nodded, studiously focusing on his plate. "We're taking lunch and dinner. I don't expect to be back until after dark."

Jess felt a pang of jealousy that this little Spanish whore was taking her son away from her all day, but her smile didn't waver. "That sounds great! Have fun you two -- and Ryan, bring her back safely."

"I will." Jess had no doubt of that -- Ryan was only marginally worse at sailing than he was at swimming, and he was a great swimmer.

Jess turned from the table and glanced over her shoulder. The Frauen-Trinkclub was just gathering, but she wasn't going to spend the morning with them. No, she was going to go up to her room, get her dildo, and spend as much time as she damned well felt like fucking herself with it and imagining it was her son's big, meaty cock. She was going to imagine being his Seetsahm, getting knocked up by him, being his girl for a century or more, and she was going to come her brains out.

And that was exactly what she did. She had come like a pack of firecrackers lit all at once, a series of explosions that had her squirting and moaning all morning long until she was so dehydrated and stinky that she needed to get cleaned up and go down for lunch. And so she rose, smelling her countless climaxes, and headed for the bathroom.

The shower was cold of course, but she had ceased to notice that minor inconvenience. She stood motionless under the spray for a long time, but when she finally started to wash, she immediately noticed something: her arms were different. The skin was tighter, more youthful, and the loose folds hanging down were gone -- not tighter, not diminished, gone.

Jess vaulted from the shower and stared into the full-length mirror. It was true. Just yesterday her bat wings had been so pronounced that she could have stood on a surfboard, spread her arms, and sailed across the bay. Today she had Michelle Obama arms, athlete arms...thirty year old arms. Thirty hell, her arms hadn't looked this good when she was thirty!

Excitedly she spun in place and looked at her ass. It too was younger, higher, firmer, and there wasn't a cottage cheese dimple to be seen on it or on her thighs. It wasn't the ass she saw on herself in her dreams, but it was a huge step closer to it than it had been just a day before!

Her heart was hammering in the back of her throat as she turned slowly and examined herself from every angle. Everything...everything was better. Everything was younger. Her thighs were thinner, her tummy flatter and harder, her tits higher and bouncier, her nipples pointed up instead of down. I'm changing. I'm becoming Seetsahm!

The thought shook her out of her happy reverie. Shit shit SHIT! This blessing, this goddamned stupid, insane blessing was twisting her inside and out and making her someone else! A week ago she'd looked every day of her forty-four years, and today there wasn't a part of her that looked over thirty. A week ago she'd have turned cartwheels over the development, bragged about it, showed off, flaunted herself to Paul to make him realize what he had waiting for him at home so his eye wouldn't wander between now and the time the job was done. Today she wanted to scream and break the mirror with a bare fist.

It had to stop. It had to be stopped. The shamans had to come up with something fast. They had to, because if they didn't...

Because if they didn't, then a year from now she might already be pregnant with her son's second child.

A few moments later, she had dressed and was heading down to join the Frauen-Trinkclub. With her arriving so late, half of them would assume she had gone off to screw someone other than Paul; it was a mark of her mental state that she was too worried to care a damn what any of them thought.

Only a sliver of sun remained above the horizon as Ryan piloted the boat to the hotel dock. A professional couldn't have put her in sweeter, and vaulted out onto the dock like a true waterman. A moment with the mooring lines and he had made her fast fore and aft, all slicker than water off a duck's tailfeathers.

There was applause from the boat. Lexy was looking up at him with a huge smile, and as she clapped she said, "My hero! You're so sexy when you're competent."

Ryan snorted, then burst into a hearty laugh. "Wow, that was the least complimentary compliment I've ever gotten from anyone except Kim. Thank you."

She giggled charmingly and began to hand up everything they had taken with them: two picnic hampers (now empty), a beach blanket, a bag of sunscreen and other necessaries, life jackets, and a life preserver. When the boat was emptied he helped Lexy up onto the dock and began to gather things. "I'll return the boating gear. Can you bring the hampers back to the kitchen?"

"I may be able to manage an arduous task like carrying two empty wicker baskets a short distance, yes."

"Aw, I knew I could count on you. I need to take a quick shower and change into some clothes that aren't stiff with salt spray. See you on the beach?"

"Of course, my hero. And you behaved yourself like a gentleman today, so I may just have to suck your cock like a common slut before bed."

"Now we're cookin' with gas."

She was in the middle of bending over for the baskets, but she froze and looked up at him. "What? You have gas?"

He laughed. "No, it means everything's going great."

"Ah, of course it does. El inglés es un idioma estúpido..."

"The stupidest, babe." He gathered up the boating gear and hauled it back to the hotel, where one of the insolent desk clerks reluctantly too a key and led him to the boat house, supervised his returning the gear to its proper place, and locked up behind them.

"Hey," he said, "my door still doesn't lock."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir. We'll send someone up to fix it tomorrow."

"Of course you will," Ryan muttered as he turned away. Spotting his father chatting with several of the Frauen-Trinkclub, he made a detour over to say hello.

"Hello!" his father said cheerfully. "How was your day of sailing."

"The sailing was great. The other islands are dull as dishwater." He looked around, then asked, "Is mom here?"

"She had a little too much to drink and had to use the restroom," Paul explained.

"Oh. Well I have to go shower and change, so I'll see you shortly. Don't drink all the pineapple juice before I get back." With that, Ryan trudged back to the hotel and climbed the stairs to his floor, heading down the hallway to his room. He had gotten fifteen feet before the door to his parents' room opened and his mother stepped out; their eyes locked, and the electricity that sparked between them could have powered the hotel's water boilers. "Hey babe."

She was smiling like an idiot as she approached. "Hey back. Did you have a good day?"

"Yeah. I'm horny though, I kept thinking of you." It was not something that he should be saying, but neither of them thought it inappropriate at the moment.

"God, me too," she nodded. "I had to come up to my room and finger-fuck myself just to calm down."

He grinned. "I'd have been jerking it if Lexy hadn't been there. Just out of curiosity, what were you thinking of?"

She shouldn't have answered that, but it never occurred to her not to. "You had me on my bed at home and you were hammering me doggy. I had my ass in the air and you were holding my face into the blanket with your hand on the back of my neck. You kept telling me that you were going to knock me up. That got me off so hard."

He grinned and shook his head. "Yeah, that's exactly what I was thinking of too."

"Of course it was. We're in each other's heads these days."

The fact should have shocked and appalled Ryan, but in the moment all he could do was smile like a wolf at a lamb. "It was hot as fuck, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," she nodded, eyes glittering. "It kept racing around my mind all night until I just had to do something about it. I made myself come twice and I moaned your name both times."

"God damn girl, you're amazing," he whispered, stepping close to her and putting his hands on her hips. She pressed herself into him without hesitation and grinned up at him. "I feel like I should do something about that."

The eagerness on her face was undeniable. "What's stopping you?"

At last a small whisper of wisdom penetrated into his mind, a little voice saying, Don't do it. But that voice was an idiot, and when he leaned in she tilted her head back and took his kiss full on the lips. Their mouths remained closed only an instant before lips parted and their tongues met, swirling, dancing, tasting each other. He sucked her tongue like it was her clit and then she sucked his like it was his cock and then they sucked each other's back and forth with an increasing tempo and increasing need.

His hands were on her ass, one hand grasping each cheek, squeezing, delighted at finding it so firm. She whimpered into his mouth and he pulled her closer so she could feel his erection press against her body, and at the same moment her hands found his ass and pulled him closer still. I bet she's dripping right now. He was certainly painfully hard. And this kiss...this was easily the best kiss of his life, thrilling and erotic and so satisfying!

He didn't even realize he had been guiding her toward the side of the corridor until her back hit the wall. One of his legs was between hers, and she lost no time in humping it like a dog, grinding her hot slit against it almost frantically as she suckled his tongue. A moment later his hands were on her breasts, squeezing them through her clothes, her nipples so hard he could feel them through bra and dress; she arched her back and pressed them into his hands, moaning softly as she did so. And less than a minute after that her right hand had slipped down to his crotch and was squeezing and stroking his erection through his shorts. It felt good, but Ryan wanted her to touch it for real, with nothing between them. He wanted her to stroke it, then suck it, then take it inside her like she was supposed to --

It was like crashing into a brick wall -- his thoughts and emotions stopped cold at a single thought, even though his hands kept playing with her tits for a few more seconds. Then, with a grunt, he tried to step back, but she was all over him, kissing, stroking, until he finally put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her away. "Mom...this isn't a...a dream or a hallucination or whatever you call it. Is it?"

She looked back at him in confusion for a long moment before the implication hit her. "No. No it's not. It's real. We just..."

"Did that," he finished for her.

"Shit," she moaned, briefly covering her face with her hands before looking back at him. "Damn it. God damn it."

He knew he ought to feel as bad about it as she did, or as bad as she was pretending to -- he thought there was a hint of performance in what she was saying -- but he couldn't muster the dismay. "I think we both knew this was coming sooner or later."

She opened her mouth to deny it, but then nodded guiltily. "Yeah. I think it was inevitable. I guess we have to hope we don't do it again...or do more."

"I didn't want to stop. But I had to."

"Yeah, you did. You did the right thing." Pause, then, "And now I'm horny again."

"Yeah. I have to make this thing go down before I head outside or I'll scare all the ladies."

"That you would," she chuckled without much humor. "I'll see you on the beach."

Ryan headed toward his room. He hadn't gotten twenty feet before his mother called his name. He turned to face her and saw she was blushing. "I just wanted you to know that you're an amazing kisser," she said. "I haven't been kissed like that, not ever."

"I feel the same way." He turned and went into his room.

Day Eight

Jess knew something was different the moment she opened her eyes from a dream of Ryan fucking her on the third base line of American Family Field during the seventh inning stretch of a Brewers game as the crowd roared their approval and the players shouted encouragement from the dugouts. She was wildly horny of course, but she had gotten used to that, just like she'd gotten used to wet sheets and constantly lusting after her own flesh and blood. No, this was something else.

She slipped a hand down her body and between her legs and felt the wetness of her squirts...but no, more than that. There was something viscous and sticky, and when she pulled her hand away and held it up, she saw her fingers were covered in white goo, a strand stretching between pointer and index finger.

Semen.

Before she even knew what she was doing, she slid her fingers into her mouth. The taste brought out a moan of delight -- it was the same flavor that she had tasted on the beach two days before when her sweet, horny son had come in his pants and his spend ended up in her mouth. It was beyond delicious -- it was addictive.

But there was something even better. Her hand went between her legs again, but this time her middle two fingers slid frictionlessly up inside her. She moved her fingers, stirring the mess in her pussy, and then pulled them out and brought her hand up to her face. She inhaled deeply, smelling the most perfect scent in the world: her juices and her son's thick cum, mixed to a froth in the way only a massive fucking could achieve. She could smell that all day and never get tired of it.
Jess licked her lips, glanced over at her husband sleeping soundly next to her, and then opened her mouth to slip her fingers inside. This time her moan was louder -- in fact, if her hand hadn't been in her mouth, she'd have woken Paul up with it. It tasted better than she'd ever imagined anything could, better than anything else could. She swirled her tongue around her fingers, then began to fuck her own mouth with them to get every single drop. It was breathtaking.

Her fingers went back inside her to gather more of the marvelous mixture, then back to her mouth, then back to her pussy, five times in all. The blending of their two flavors was intoxicating, and she could feel her head twirling so much that if she'd have been standing up, she'd have fallen on her ass. Just the taste of it made her clit achingly hard. Another glance at Paul, still sleeping, and her hand went down between her legs one more time while the other clamped itself preemptively over her mouth. A single light brush over her clit was all it took to make her eyes screw shut, make a scream rise from her throat to be muffled by her hand, and make her whole body convulse in a gorgeous orgasm that was brief but perfect.

Afterward she lay in the bed, panting softly, forearm over her eyes, the taste of her and her son's intercourse lingering in her mouth, and it was then that rational thought began creeping in as it always did after she debased herself because of the ridiculous blessing. Here she was, lying next to her husband, her faultless, beautiful husband, and all her mind permitted her to think of was fucking her son so she could taste more of the unique flavor only they could make together. "God," she whispered in a tone dripping with self-contempt, "I am a fucking slut."

FUCK! I HAVE MY SON'S CUM IN MY PUSSY!

The thought pushed her out of bed and into the bathroom, where she got the cold shower going and grabbed her douche bottle. Climbing into the shower, she filled the bottle at the nozzle and cleaned herself, then repeated it twice more. Thank god for Noristerat or the kid might have knocked me up without ever fucking me for real.

It was weird how these violations of reality were becoming so routine that they barely raised an eyebrow anymore. Part of it was that she was so damned horny when she woke up (and at every other point during the day) that she couldn't think straight, but she knew it was more of the magic working on her mind, making her accept the impossibilities. If it wasn't for that, the thought that she was still sharing dreams with her son every night would be driving her insane, never mind all the other, crazier things that were happening at an increasing rate. She was being made to accept it all -- and more and more, to love it all.

Like that kiss last night -- she and her son had sucked face and felt each other up for a solid five minutes, and if he hadn't stopped when he did there was no telling where it would have wound up; his bedroom, probably, with that thick, lovely cock she had gotten such a good feel of pounding her cross-eyed while she begged for his baby.

And more than that, that was what would happen eventually if the same bozos who inflicted this curse on them couldn't figure out how to reverse it. Hell, the way things were going, it might happen before the meeting the day after tomorrow.

With a disgruntled sigh, she climbed out of the shower to brush her teeth twice and use mouthwash to rid herself of that damnably seductive taste. As she got dressed, she decided, Fuck it, I'm going swimming today. I don't care if I burn black.

Ryan had barely knocked on the door before Trish opened it, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and yanked him inside. "God baby, your mom has been aching for your cock," she purred. "I'm gonna make you come so hard!"

Ryan yanked his shirt off, then followed it by yanking Trish's shirt off; she wasn't wearing a bra, and her tits were fantastic -- not nearly as good as his mom's, of course, but his mom had the best boobs in the world so that wasn't surprising. One hand found her nipple as they kissed hungrily. Trish didn't waste time -- this was a sexual relationship, nothing else, and there was neither need nor desire for chit-chat. His cock was hard, her pussy was wet, so what needed to be said except for roleplaying encouragement?

But the roleplaying was what he loved, what he was here for, and Trish seemed to get off on it as much as he did. She was a dirty, kinky woman -- and thank God for it, because fucking the brains out of a mom-substitute was just about the only thing keeping him sane.

She moved closer to her to press her naked top half against his; the feeling of her soft breasts squashing against his hard chest thrilled him. They kissed again, hard, and he moved his hands down her back to the little tennis skirt she wore; in a moment he had pulled it up over her waist, and he was overjoyed to find that she wasn't wearing panties either. "Fuck, mom," he whispered into her mouth. "You're such a naughty little slut."

"Only for my son," she whispered back. "You're the only one who can make me happy, baby. I need my son's hard cock in my hot little twat. Will my big, strong son give his horny slut mom what she needs?"

"Fuck yes, mom. Get down on your knees. I want my cock at the back of your throat, bitch."

Trish made a sound like a happy kitten and sank to a crouch so that she was at eye level with the considerable bulge that was tenting his shorts. She ran her fingertips over it adoringly, looking up into his eyes to see the eagerness there. Without breaking eye contact, she leaned in and planted a kiss on his shaft through the cloth, then undid his shorts and pulled them and his underwear down with a single movement -- and then froze. In a baffled voice she said, "...what the hell?"

"What?"

"It's...bigger. Like a lot bigger since the last time I saw it. Almost two inches bigger, and I can't even close my hand around it!"

Ryan gazed down at his cock. "Are you sure?"

"Baby, I'm lousy with faces but I never forget a dick. And over the last two days, yours went from 'Impressive' to 'Holy Shit.'"

He waved his hand unconcernedly. "It's been doing that. I saw the doctor and he said it was just an ordinary growth spurt."

She frowned. "The doctor on this island? The only thing that guy could diagnose is what kind of whiskey is in his glass."

"He seemed like more of a 'straight from the bottle' guy to me. But yeah, him. And I'm going to see my regular doctor as soon as I get back to the States."

"And it feels OK? It doesn't hurt or anything?"

"Not a bit. In fact it'll feel better than ever when it's buried in my horny mom's fertile cunt."

Trish grinned delightedly. "Ooooh you know just what mom wants. Come on, give me a baby!"

Jess was climbing out of the ocean when she saw Ryan walking hand-in-hand with Lexy not twenty yards away and called his name at the top of her lungs. He stopped, spotted her, and waved cheerfully, but she gestured at him rather frantically to come over. He said something to Lexy and then came at a jog, asking, "What's up?"

"Something...happened this morning," she told him in a whisper, casting a glance over his shoulder to make sure Lexy had stayed put and was out of hearing distance. "Something that hadn't happened before. You know the dream we had when we woke up?"

"Me knocking you up during a Brewers game? Yeah, what about it?"

"When I woke up I had...my pussy...it was full of cum. Just packed with it."

He looked positively alarmed at that, but she could see that a little part of him was not upset with the idea. "Are you...are you sure?"

"I know what cum tastes like!"

"OK, OK, and it wasn't dad's?"

She frowned. "I can't sleep through someone fucking me until they orgasm, Ryan. And besides, it tasted so much better than his. You came in your bedroom and it ended up inside me in mine."

"OK that's an escalation. You're on birth control, right?"

"Yeah, but what if the magic has somehow...I don't know, suppressed it or something? What if I'm already knocked up? You can't even get Plan B on this island, it's illegal."

Ryan scratched his head. This was plainly heaviness he had not been prepared to deal with this morning. "I don't know. We'll be in Australia in three days, you can get it there, right?"

"Well, yes," she admitted. "But Plan B works better the sooner you take it, and I'm sure any kid you put in me will be a tenacious little shit."

He cogitated for a bit and then shrugged. "There's nothing we can do about it here and now anyway. We'll just have to take our chances."

"You don't sound as upset as I am!"

"Well what do you want me to do? Besides, the idea of our child growing inside of you is hot as fuck, isn't it?"

"Well...yes it is. But we still can't make one!"

"No, I know we can't," he sighed. "All we can do is hope for the best and wait until we get to Oz."

He was right, but she didn't have to like it. "Alright, fine. But things are ramping up fast. What do we do if something else happens today or tomorrow? Like we end up in bed or something, for real?"

It took him a while to answer, and when he did he sounded almost as uncertain as she felt. "We're not in control here, mom, not all the way and not all the time. Neither of us asked for this and neither of us wanted it, but we have to deal with it one way or the other. If we cross that line then...then I guess we have to forgive ourselves for it. It's not like we would have done it if they hadn't put the whammy on us. We have to be kind to ourselves and each other or we won't make it through this."

Jess looked up into her son's face and marveled. That was such a wise and mature thing to tell her! And it worked, she felt much calmer. There was no use in beating herself up over something she couldn't help and didn't want (well...didn't want all the time). If something happened, they'd get through it.

And if she got knocked up on the island, she could always tell Paul the baby was his...

"Alright babe. Go be with Lexy. And stay away from me, if we're not together we can't do anything."

"I love you, mom."

"I love you too. More than anything else in the world."

Sometime later in a forest clearing, Ryan was pulling his shorts up hurriedly and studiously looking at the ground. His face was as red as a sunburned tomato, and his expression was one of acute humiliation.

Lexy sat on the ground behind him, legs crossed in front of her, looking a bit bewildered and a bit put off. "Ryan, honey, it's really not that big a deal."

He didn't answer, instead reaching for his shirt.

"It's not!" she insisted. "You're not the only one with that fantasy, or fetish, or whatever it is. If you look on the internet you'll see it's very popular."

"You didn't seem to think it was alright a minute ago," he pointed out.

"It just took me by surprise, that was all," she assured him. "It's not my thing, but I don't think you're weird or a pervert or anything."

"Look, let's not talk about it, OK?"

Finally she stood and laid a hand on his arm. "Look at me, Ryan. Look at my face."

Reluctantly, he turned and looked into her eyes. "What?"

"Lots of guys have fetishes about having sex with their moms, even impregnating them. Freud talked about it a century and a quarter ago. It's a thing, it's common, and I'm not shocked by it any more than I would be if you said you liked feet or women in uniform or whatever."

"I just...I can't believe I blurted out that during sex with you!"

"Stop beating yourself up about it," she said soothingly. "Millions of guys feel the same way. And not just guys -- back home I knew a girl who was having an affair with her father. It's legal in Spain, you know."

"What? You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. Spain, Portugal, France -- it's perfectly legal across a lot of Europe. South America too."

"Huh. I didn't know that," he murmured. The image of him and his mother living in another country, pumping out babies and living happily, suddenly flared up huge in his mind.

She put her arms around him and hugged, and after a moment he hugged back. She waited a few seconds before saying, "Would you mind very much if I asked you a question?"

Probably. "Go ahead."

"Well...it's just that you and you mother seem very close. I've seen the way you look at each other, like you want to tear each other's clothes off. Have you...done anything? It's OK if you have, I won't tell anyone," she hastened to add.

"I...we kissed once. That's all."

She nodded against him, which he felt rather than saw. "I get the feeling that you both want more, though. I've never seen two people look at each other the way you do."

"Oh God. Do you think anyone else has noticed?"

"I don't know. Probably. Neither of you are subtle about it."

"Oh shit. Shit shit shit. What if my dad saw, or my sister?"

"I don't know. And I know you didn't ask for advice, but can I offer some?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"I don't think incest is wrong, but I do think it's dangerous. That girl and her dad I told you about? Her mother found out. There was a divorce, and now her mother and sister won't talk to her or her father. If you and your mother do decide to do more, you need to be prepared for that to happen."

"And it's not legal in America," he sighed.

"That's something else to think about." She was quiet for a moment, then stepped back and smiled. "Come on, my hero. Let's swim for a bit and then I'll see about draining those aching balls of yours."

Another convocation of the Frauen-Trinkclub had been rung into session with the delivery of a round of bushwhacker cocktails, courtesy of Rori, the Czech woman. Conversation was in full swing, and the topic turned to Jessica. "So Jess," Rori said, "this is your last day with us."

"I'm sure I'll see you guys over the next couple of days, but I'm spending tomorrow at the worksite with Paul, and then the day after that Ryan and I were invited back to the village where we saved that boy from drowning. They want to have a celebration or something." That was the story she and Ryan had agreed upon to keep their absence from the hotel on their last day from seeming suspicious.

"It won't be the same without you here," Trish said. "Or that slab of man you call your son. Yummy."

Over the weeks here, Jess had gotten used to Trish kidding her about Ryan. It had been constant almost from the first day, and she had grown a callus. For some reason, though, this time she felt the callus peeling back and Trish poking at the soft spot underneath. "Look, just knock it off, OK? It's not funny anymore."

She had been hoping for her reaction to shock Trish, but the Bostonian just shot her a knowing smirk and said, "It's OK, Jess, he's horny for someone else anyway. But I won't say another word to you about him. I promise."

Jess felt a cold finger scratch down her spine at Trish's tone and expression. Had Trish seen something? Maybe the kiss in the hallway the night before? Or had she overheard Jess talking to Ryan? Good Lord, if she told Paul or Kim...

"Yes, yes, we all know Trish is a bloody pervert," said Felicia. "What I want to know is what you've been doing to look so young all of a sudden, Jess."

"Exactly!" said Nita, Lexy's mom; like her daughter, her English sounded posh RP, but she did have a noticeable Spanish accent that always sounded glamorous and sexy to Jess. "You look fifteen years younger than you did when you set foot on this island and I demand to know your secrets!"

The other women were just as strident, and it wasn't like she could tell the truth. "I don't know what to tell you, guys. I think the tropical sunshine and the sea breeze is good for me. That and being away from the stress of work and keeping house. This vacation has been helped me relax."

"You don't look relaxed," Nita observed. "You've been very tense for the last week."

Ever since that fucking ceremony. "It may look that way, but I'm Zen as a cucumber. If cucumbers were Zen."

Trish nodded. "If you heat 'em up a little in the microwave, they're really good for -- "

Erika, the German, sat back with a snort of faux disgust. "Oh fine, be that way, you Miststück. Let us all look like old hags while you look perfect. You're a cruel woman."

Jess rolled her eyes. "Oh settle down, I'll be back to looking my age a week after I get home."

"Should we drop the subject?" Vilde, the Dane, asked.

"Not a chance," Kendra said. "Jess, is it coconut oil? I think it's coconut oil."

Jessica groaned.

Day Nine

Another night, another dream, another morning with her pussy filled with her son's seed. Jessica tried to control herself, but knowing how good it would taste was just too much, and soon she was greedily scooping it from twat to mouth and almost orgasming in the process. Then a cold shower and a douche (douching with cold water was, she discovered, an effective means of taking the edge off her horniness -- for a few minutes, at least), and then looking in the mirror to brush her hair. After around a dozen strokes, she saw it, and when she did she stepped back and clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream.

Her hair, the hair that had been ginger since she was a baby, was coming in dark brown at the roots. Just like she had in the dreams. Just like Seetsahm had.

"Damn it damn it damn it!" she said aloud. "Stop! Stop with the changes! Let me just be me!"

The silence of the bathroom was her only reply.

Seeing as how her demand had gone unanswered, she stepped back to the mirror to survey the damage. The half-inch of hair closest to her scalp had gone a deep, lustrous brown at the roots. Half an inch? How long did it take hair to grow half an inch, a month? She'd been completely ginger just last night! And it wasn't as though her hair had grown half an inch -- it was the same length, it was just that the hair that had already grown was changing color. And that was impossible. No, that was insane.

"What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck," she muttered. What was next? The version of her in the dream was a short woman, much shorter than she was in real life. Was she going to start shrinking now? And dream-her had an hourglass figure that a porn cartoon would envy, so were her tits and hips going to expand and her waist shrink? Was she going to be crammed into some other body, some alien thing where she didn't even belong? Was she just going to vanish into Seetsahm?

More than waking up with her son's cum flooding her cunt, this was causing her real panic. It was good to feel the sort of terror that she should have been feeling all along but that the magic was suppressing. Good, good, existential fear. I can work with that.

Ryan rolled off of Trish and took off the soiled condom. In their roleplays she always begged for impregnation, but he wasn't going to risk catching something off the island bicycle. Actually that characterization was unfair, because most of the conquests Trish bragged about when drinking with the girls were made up; she enjoyed having a scandalous reputation. Of course, it wasn't that she didn't cheat on her husband, because she did, a lot, just not as much as people thought.

She cleaned his cock with her mouth, then sat up next to him and ran her hand along his bare back. "So that was our last time together. It was good."

"It was," he nodded. "Thanks for...well, for understanding about everything. I think I really needed it."

"And what are you going to do when it's just you and mom in your house back home? She wants you just as bad as you want her. Do you really think you can fight it?"

"I don't know," he admitted.

"Do you even want to fight it?"

"I...I'm not sure. Sometimes I do, but other times..."

"You just want to hold her down and put a baby in her."

"Yeah, that."
"That is hot. I hope you guys get together, I really do. I hope you get her good and pregnant."

He smiled at her. "You're kinda crazy, aren't you?"

"Oh I'm a sick bitch," she agreed happily. "The nastier and more perverted, the better I like it. I've always been that way. I've done things that would get me tossed in jail in most states."

He laughed. "I can never tell when you're BSing me."

"You're not supposed to know. It's part of my glorious mystique."

"Well, mission accomplished, I guess," he said, standing and reaching for his underwear.

She watched him dress, a thoughtful expression on her face. "You know, when you came to this island you were a boy. Oh I know you were 18, but you were still a kid. But you don't look like a boy anymore. You look more mature, older than your age. If you told me you were 22 I'd believe it."

Ratu and Fa'ahotu de-aged to about 20. Mom's looking younger every day and now I look a little older. It's all coming true whether we want it to or not.

He shook his head and forced a grin. "It's probably all the sun I've been getting. It's turning me into boot leather."

"Maybe," she said with a shrug, and stood up to put her arms around her. "Now you take care of yourself, OK? And take care of whatever girl you end up with. Whoever gets you will be lucky to have you -- whoever gets you."

"Thanks, Trish," he said, bending to kiss her.

Just before their lips met, she said, "Call me mom."

Paul and Jess walked hand-in-hand toward the office, her great sun hat casting her face in shadow. Paul wore a bush hat but he seemed fearless in the sun: of course, a deep tan just made him look even handsomer. In her whole life, Jess had never had a tan -- with her ginger's complexion, she just burned, peeled, and was white underneath. And that was why it was such a surprise when Paul looked down at her arm and said, "Babe, your skin -- it's tanned."

"No it's not," she laughed, and then she looked down and said, "Well fuck me, it is."

"What is going on with you?" he asked with a chuckle.

She knew exactly what was happening: Seetsahm had a deep tan, so she was developing one too. It didn't even come as a surprise anymore. "I don't know. It's probably a fluke."

"A fluke?" he asked, this time with an honest laugh. "Look at you, Jess: you look so young! Is that a fluke too? New skin care regimen?"

Ah, so he finally noticed. Husbands are so used to seeing their wives that it takes them forever to pick up on changes. "Not really. I think it's the climate and maybe how I'm eating here, with all the fresh fruit and fresh-caught fish. It's doing wonders, but it will probably all fall apart as soon as I get home."

He unlocked the office and stepped inside, where the active air conditioner raised an involuntary shiver from Jess. He dropped his hat on the desk and guided her over to the sofa, where they sat side by side. "If it does, it does. I'll still love you no matter what."

"In that case, there's one more thing you need to know. Get ready for a shock." With that, she took off her hat. The light in their room in the morning was dim so he hadn't noticed, but this room was bright and filled with sunshine. He looked at her in confusion until she leaned in and lifted her hair so he could see her scalp.

It took him a moment to see it, but when he did, the expression on his face became the most honest mask of shock she had ever seen him wear. "What the HELL? Is your hair turning brown?"

"It certainly seems like it," she said. "I googled it before you woke up, and apparently hair can spontaneously change color. Nobody knows why it happens. It's rare but hardly unheard-of."

"So when I come home at Christmas, you might be a brunette?"

"It might be a scalp infection," she lied smoothly. "Maybe all these changes are some kind of tropical disease. I'll have to see a doctor when I get home. But if it keeps growing in brown, I'll have to dye the rest of it to match or I'll look ridiculous."

"Wow. Wow. I can't imagine you as a brunette. But then you never did like your hair color. Maybe you'll like the brunette life more."

"Looks like I'm going to get a chance whether I want to or not," she said with a shrug. It had come as a startling change to Paul, but for her it was small potatoes in the scope of things. "But there's something else we need to talk about. It's kind of a big deal."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. And I really don't want to have this conversation, but there's no way around it. I just hope you don't hate me."

"Babe, you know I could never hate you. Whatever it is, just say it. We'll deal with it together."

"OK. OK." She took a deep breath and dived in: "It sounds like you might be out here another couple of years, maybe even more. You'll only be home a few weeks a year. That's a lot to deal with, I know. And I know that you have needs -- you're a man, every man has needs. And some of these native women are just gorgeous."

"Honey -- "

"No, this is hard, let me finish. I know you have a high drive, you always have. It's not right for me to demand that you deny your needs month after month after month. So what I'm saying is...if you need to...let off some steam with someone, I understand. I won't be angry."

"Jesus," he whispered, leaning back to digest that for a few moments. Finally he said, "I sense an unspoken 'And.'"

She swallowed and nodded. "And I'm perimenopausal. My sex drive is through the roof. You know that, I practically rape you a few times a day. It's going to get worse before it gets better. I don't think I can go without for six months at a stretch. I know I can't. I'm sorry."

He took it all in and sat staring ahead, seemingly seeing nothing, his face unreadable. After almost a minute she started to speak, but he silenced her with a raised hand. That just gave Jess time to think. I'm not sure I'm doing this because of Ryan. If the shamans can't fix this mess then it won't matter what arrangements Paul and I make because our son and I will end up together. But even if they do, my needs are officially out of control and I am going to have to satisfy them whether Paul agrees to it or not. I just hope it's not with Ryan.

It was almost five full minutes of excruciating silence before he said, "I can see why you felt we needed to talk about this."

"I'm sorry, Paul. I'm so sorry. I wish it were different."

"Yeah. We knew me taking this job would put strains on our marriage. I can't really be surprised it's come to this. I guess we both need to be adults about it, huh?"

She wasn't sure whether that sounded direr than he intended, so all she said was, "I guess so, yeah."

"I understand where you're coming from, and it's...unreasonable for me to demand you turn into a nun when I'm not around. So yes, I agree to this -- with rules."

Relief flooded her and she visibly relaxed. "Of course. Did you have some in mind?"

"Yeah. First, and I think this is the big one: this is just for sex. If either of us develop feelings for whomever we're seeing, we end it then and there. No relationships except ours."

"Yes, absolutely. I don't want to replace you."

"Second, we don't do anything with anyone the other person knows. That means I don't do anything with the wives or girlfriends that are here, and you don't do it with friends or my brother or anyone from else I've met."

Have you met our son? "That makes sense. Anything else would just add complications. But you do know that Trish Hendricks will be throwing herself at your crotch the moment I get on the plane, right?"

"Trish holds no appeal for me, trust me."

"That's a relief. I could stand you with anyone else but her."

"So third: condoms every time, no exceptions ever. I don't want either of us to catch anything, including a baby."

Her womb shouted in outrage, and the image of her and Ryan gazing down at their first child seemed very vivid and very seductive. "Yes, absolutely."

"Fourth, keep it discreet. I don't want Ryan to know. I don't want anyone here to know. I never want to hear details, ever. In fact, I don't even want to know that you're doing it, and I won't tell you what I get up to."

"Yeah, that's probably for the best." I just hope Ryan doesn't know because he's the one giving me what I need. I hope the island think tank can figure this out.

"And fifth and last, when we're together, there's nobody else. When I come home to visit or when you come back here, no fooling around with anyone else."

"That's the way I want it too."

"Then we can give this a try and see how it goes. I guess sixth, if either of us wants to stop it, it stops, no questions asked."

"All those are sensible rules."

He nodded. "OK. Let's not talk about it anymore then. You brought that great picnic lunch, let's go eat it. Maybe you can improve your tan."

"Maybe!"

"I'm going to miss you, my big damned hero."

Ryan looked at Lexy as they walked along the beach, holding hands. "I'll miss you too. I mean we knew that this was a time-limited thing going in, but..."

"But now that the limit is here, it feels different."

"Yeah. I guess I grew some feelings for you after all."

"We've spent almost every day of the last month together, and we've had more sex than I had in my whole life with anyone else. It would be weird if we didn't feel anything at all."

She was right, of course, it would be weird. And he did feel something for her, but all this madness with his mom was filling his heart as well as his mind and he didn't have much room for anyone else. Still, no point in telling her that, it would just hurt her feelings. "Do you still want to keep in touch?"

"Yes, of course. You have my social media contacts, so you'd better use them!"

"Don't make me the only one responsible! You need to keep in contact with me too."

"Of course I will. And I will tell all my friends about a wonderful guy I know in Wisconsin."

"All the guys I know will be jealous that I had a Spanish girlfriend for the summer. Well, most of them won't even believe me, but the ones who do will be mad jelly."

She laughed. "We've taken hundreds of pictures together. If they don't believe those then they probably don't believe in evolution either."

"Probably not. It is Wisconsin. Folks there believe in Jesus and beer, and not in that order."

"Didn't you say something before about cheese?"

"Right, can't forget that. Beer, Jesus, and cheese, the Holy Trinity. What do people in Spain believe?"

"Hmmm. We believe that Germans need to lighten up."

"I only ever met one German, but yeah, he was pretty intense."

"Telling a German a joke is like telling a cow to drive a car."

"Telling a German a joke is like telling him not to invade Belgium."

She snorted, then burst into laughter. "I'm going to tell that one at home! I have some French friends who will love it."

They swam for a while, had sex (he didn't call her mom this time, which was a relief, but of course he imagined that she was Jess the whole time), and tanned together. After another dip in the ocean, he suggested, "How about we go up to my room? We can shower together and then see what happens."

Screwing in a bed was a treat for them, so she smiled and nodded. "Lead the way. And a shower sounds good, I have sand in my crevices."

"OK, that just sounds uncomfortable."

Their little subterfuge games were still in effect, so Ryan entered first, trotting up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom. He turned the door handle -- and the door didn't open. He tried again and got the same result. He went back down to the lobby and approached the desk, saying, "Excuse me, but my door won't open."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir," the desk clerk said.

"I know you are. Did you do something to it?"

"What room are you in, sir?"

"Come on man, you know what room I'm in. I've been asking you to fix the lock for the past four weeks."

"What room are you in, sir?"

"Uuuughh. I'm in room 311."

"Ah," the clerk said, looking at the register. "Mister...McCullen?"

"You know I'm Mr. McCullen."

"I see a note here that we repaired the lock on your door this morning. Your key should open it, sir."

"My key is in my room. Behind the locked door."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir. Why would you leave your key in your room when you knew we were going to fix the lock?"

"Because I assumed you weren't going to fix the lock, seeing as I've been complaining about it for the whole time I was here and you never did a thing."

"Respectfully sir, that's untrue. We fixed it this morning."

"Yeah I know that but I had no reason to expect you to."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir. I am uncertain what I can do to help."

"You can take the master key and open the door, for one thing."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, sir."

"And why is that?"

"Because I have to stay at the desk. If I were to leave it to open your door and someone came to the desk while I was away, it would reflect badly on the hotel."

Ryan clenched his fists to tightly his knuckles squeaked. "Like one person a day comes to the desk. I'm your quota. You can safely come up to my room with me for three minutes and you'll be back before anyone knows you're gone."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, sir."

Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten. He was proud of his calm tone when he asked, "Do you have spare keys for the rooms in case a guest loses one?"

"Yes sir."

"Are they here at the desk?"

"Yes sir."

"So you could give me the spare without leaving the desk."

"Yes sir."

Ryan waited for several horrible seconds before asking, "Can you do that now?"

"Yes sir." The desk clerk ducked down behind the desk and Ryan heard a rattling, and then the clerk popped back up like a jack-in-the-box holding a key, which he extended to Ryan.

Ryan took the key, looked at it for a moment, and asked, "Why didn't you just give me this when I first came to the desk?"

"Respectfully sir, you didn't ask for it."

Somebody is asking for it. "Right. I'll bring this back in a couple of minutes."

"Thank you, sir."

Ryan trotted up the stairs to the third floor, unlocked his door, and turned around to come back. On the way down the stairs he met a surprised Lexy coming up. "Don't ask, for the love of God," he said. "Just go into my room and start the shower, I may come back soaked in the lifeblood of a desk clerk."

"Oh yes, they are obstructionist bastards, aren't they?"

A few moments later, Ryan handed over the key and said, in a voice dripping with sarcasm, "Thank you, you've been soooooooooo helpful."

"I'm very happy to hear that, sir."

Jessica paused in the hallway, stomach aflutter, and tried to turn the knob. Shockingly the door didn't open, so she knocked softly. A moment later Ryan opened the door, looking surprised to see her. "Hi," she said. "Ummm...did they fix the lock?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he said. "What's up?"

"I thought we should talk. About tomorrow."

"Oh," he said, then paused. "You mean...in my room?"

"There's no place else we can talk. Everything is shut down. I think we'd set off the alarms if we opened the outside doors at this hour."

"Yeah. Yeah. OK, come on in."

She stepped into his bedroom, her nerves twitching. Being alone in a room with him and a bed when they were so hot for each other was very dangerous, but this was a conversation that needed to happen. "Go ahead and sit on the bed, I'll take the chair."

They seated themselves about as far apart as the room permitted, but Ryan still looked as uncomfortable as she felt. "So what did you want to discuss?"

"Well first, I wanted to remind you that I'll be waking you up early. I want to be climbing that mountain at dawn."

"Right, you said that before."

"Oh right," she said. They had discussed the logistics at length on the beach that very evening. "Tomorrow they'll be fixing this. We have to believe that."

"Yeah, we have to go in with that attitude."

"So when that happens and all this lunacy ends...I want you to know that I'm going to love you as much as I ever have, but in the way I should, the way a mother is supposed to love her son."

"And I'll love you the proper way too. It's just..."

After a moment, she said, "Yes?"

"I don't think either of us will forget everything that's happened. All our dreams -- I'm almost certain that I know how it would feel if we really did those things. I know exactly how you'd feel if I went inside you. I know how you sound when you come and the face you make."

"I know how it would feel if you fucked me," she whispered. "It would feel amazing."

"See? How do we forget all that? How do we go back to normal?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "But we have to try, don't we? Maybe...maybe the memories will fade when the blessing is revoked. Maybe there won't be any more changes and I'll stop turning into dream-me and go back to just being me."

"There have been a lot of physical changes," he mused. "Some of them I wouldn't mind keeping."

"Well...I mean...yes, getting younger has been amazing. I didn't look this good when I was the age I look now. But if it means getting our lives back I'll lose every one of these changes in a heartbeat."

Ryan said nothing, instead just looking intently at his mother as a smile slowly curled his lips. "Damn girl," he said. "You're hot as hell, you know that? You keep looking like that and I'll have a hard time keeping my hands off you even without the blessing."

She knew she should have put a stop to that kind of talk and rebuked her son, but instead she blushed and giggled. "Thank you, babe. I feel the same about you. I guess we'll just need to try all the harder to be good."

"Yeah, I guess so. It won't be easy."

She locked eyes with him. My Lord, he's irresistible. "No it won't. Not knowing what we know. Knowing how good it could be if we just gave in and fucked each other's brains out for real and not just a stupid dream. God I want that so bad!"

"Mom," he said in a voice of quiet command. "What are you doing all the way over there? Get your gorgeous ass over here."

It was all the most natural thing in the world. How could there be anything wrong with sitting on a bed with her perfect son whom she wanted with every fiber of her being? Wasn't she supposed to? Wasn't a woman supposed to be sexual with the man she adored? Wasn't he supposed to put babies in her? With a naughty grin she pushed herself to her feet and slinked over to where he was sitting, standing in front of him with a hand on her cocked hip and a smirk on her face. "Well? What now?"

His answer was simple but perfectly eloquent: he took her hand and pulled her forward so she toppled face-first onto the bed. With another giggle she rolled herself onto her back, just in time for Ryan to move above her. He settled his weight atop her and she welcomed it hungrily, spreading her legs and letting her dress fall up to her waist as he moved between them. Their mouths met like magic and their tongues twisted together as she wrapped her arms over his back and hooked her heels over his strong calves. She was so horny it ached.

Here it was. She was in bed (or at least on one) with the best man in the world, and he wanted her and she wanted him and there was nothing to stop them. Their kiss was so hard it was bruising her lips, and his cock was so hard it was straining at his shorts; she could feel it rubbing against her wet slit through her panties as he dry-fucked her, his hips pistoning, the friction making her feel divine. Take off your clothes and let me take off mine and JUST PUT IT IN!

But he was firmly atop her and her arms and legs were around him so fiercely that he couldn't have stood up if he had tried. Her hips were bucking against his with every thrust so that the sensation was amazing, but all she could think was how much better it would feel if he was actually screwing her and every meeting of the hips drove his cock into her eager pussy all the way to the hilt. But this felt amazing too, his erection sawing against her pussy, pushing her soaked panties against her clit.
Her clit...so hard, so vibrant, throbbing with every movement he made. It felt so good, just being this close after fighting it so long, having him between her thighs where he belonged all the time, having his thrusts drill her down into the mattress. He was grinding against her now and panting into her mouth, and she knew from their dreams that he was close to coming. That load should go inside her defenseless pussy and swarm up to find an eager egg to fertilize it and let her grow the undeniable proof of their love inside her!

But she had an implant, and they were tangled together and wrapped so close that they couldn't pull back to get clothes off. This was like fucking anyway, so like it that she could get off on it -- no, Ryan could get her off and she could get him off. She whimpered at the thought, almost too big and powerful to comprehend, and all she could do was grind against his cock as the tension inside her grew brighter and brighter and oh God OH GOD OH GOOOOODDDD --

He groaned as she screamed into his mouth. They both came at the same instant, her with a dizzying, blinding flash of lightning exploding down every nerve and him with hard contractions of his balls that sent huge amounts of cum into his clothes and, when it had soaked through his underwear and shorts, onto her panties. When it was done, they still clutched each other as they panted, his head nestled next to hers so that his gasps were loud in her ear. They stayed that way for a long time, simply because it felt so good.

At last he spoke, a whispered, "That was real. Not in our heads. We did that."

"Oh. Oh fuck. We did." Clarity was setting in for her, and with it a sense of self-loathing that made her want to scrub off her skin and shower her bones. She began to push at him and try to wriggle out from underneath. After a moment he lifted himself off of her, flopped onto his back, and put a forearm across his eyes. She sat up on the edge of the bed and just trembled with her eyes closed.

In a soft voice, he asked, "Are you OK?"

"Yeah. Are you?"

"I guess so. We shouldn't have done that."

"No we shouldn't," she agreed. "But...there was no fighting it. It didn't even occur to me to stop, not until we both came."

"Yeah. At least I didn't go inside you. I'm not sure we could have come back from that."

She knew what he meant. If they'd have had actual sex tonight, she was sure that it would have made things a whole lot harder at the village tomorrow -- she wasn't quite sure why she was certain of that, but she was. What they did was bad enough. But what was done was done. "You're right. And you're right that we shouldn't have done it, but you said it yourself: we have to be kind to ourselves. It was this crazy magic, it wasn't us."

"I think...I think you'd better go before something else happens that's not us."

He was right, of course. She stood and pulled her clothes back in place. Hopefully she wouldn't look too walk-of-shamey as she went back to her own room -- and hopefully Paul wouldn't notice that she looked like she'd just been fucked by a monster stud.

She headed for the door, but Ryan brought her to a halt with a question. "Mom...what happens if they can't fix this?"

She didn't look at him, and she didn't speak for ten seconds. Finally she said, "Then I guess what we did tonight will look like nothing in a few weeks when we're having sex five times a day."

He sighed massively. "Yeah."

She opened his door and peeked into the hallway; the coast was clear. Most people were asleep by now. She stepped out, pulled the door closed behind her, and slumped against a wall. Visiting her son's room tonight had definitely been a mistake.

Day Ten

The sun hadn't yet cleared the horizon before the Jeep began ascending the mountain path. Jess was at the wheel; Ryan sat beside her, silently looking out his side of the vehicle. They hadn't spoken ten words since Jess had awakened him at 5:00 AM, even though they'd grabbed a quick breakfast together before they left and had been sitting a few inches from each other ever since. The memory of their lapse the night before was too fresh and to embarrassing to allow for easy talk.

The island looked different in the faint predawn light, and it looked different again as the first rays of sun found it. Plants were heavy with dew and the ground was wet, and they saw birds and animals that they hadn't ever seen during the day. This place was gorgeous. It was too bad neither of them were in the mood to enjoy it.

They maintained a steely silence as they ascended the extinct volcano, at least until they passed the spot where they had stopped to have a vision last time. Shortly after that, Jess asked, "Are you feeling OK?"

"I've never been this nervous in my life."

"Me neither," she admitted. "It's insane, all of it. Magic is real, we were blessed or cursed or whatever you want to call it...all the rest. And the craziest part is that most of the time it seems perfectly sane."

Ryan was quiet until, after a quarter of a mile, he said, "I never thought the course of my whole life would be decided on the side of a volcano in the South Pacific. I wish I'd never laid eyes on this fucking place."

Maybe that was all there was to say, because neither of them spoke again. Before long they had rounded the last bend and spotted the village ahead, the smoke from morning cookfires ascending into the deepening blue of the morning sky. As they pulled in, Jake appeared from one of the buildings with a solemn wave, calling, "G'day. I'm glad you made it up here so early. It might be a long day."

Ryan and Jess each climbed out of the Jeep, and Ryan asked, "How's it going with the meeting of the minds?"

"Everybody we asked to come, came," Jake told them. "That gives us a much better chance to do whatever can be done."

"Has any progress been made?" Jess asked. "Do you have any answers?"

"Progress yes, answers no. They're going to have to take a long look at you, probably ask a lot of questions, and then discuss things for hours before they figure out an answer -- if they can at all."

"I hope you don't mean that last bit," Jess frowned.

Jake shrugged helplessly. "I'm not going to lie to you and I'm not going to make promises that I'm not sure I can keep. What I can say is, if there is a solution, they'll find it here today. And if there isn't...well, that doesn't necessarily mean they won't be able to do anything to help."

"What does that mean?" Ryan asked.

"Only that we're sure there are options. But it's no point discussing anything before we do a full examination to see what the state of things really is. I don't want to get your hopes up or to put them down. Today's a day for square news, no matter what."

"I guess that's all we can ask for," Ryan said. "What's next?"

"Come and meet the crew. They'll want to have a gander at you. A lot will depend on what they see." With that, Jake led them through to the back of the village, which was built on a slope so it was higher than the rest. There they saw a group of sixteen people -- mostly old men but with a scattering of younger folks, one of which was a fresh-faced young woman who didn't look any older than Ryan -- who were seated in small groups on the rising ground. The Old Woman was also there, off by herself, scowling contemptuously at...well, at everything, as though the whole world was unsatisfactory.

The shamans (for shamans they were) had been engaged in serious conversation, but they all stopped and stared when Ryan and Jessica appeared. Their stares were intense and their expressions unreadable, but both mother and son felt from their body language that they were a tense lot. That made sense -- this was maybe the biggest day for them in 800 years, since Ratu and Fa'ahotu got the first blessing. As for Jess and Ryan, they already felt so worried that the shamans' worry could add little to their plight.

Two cross-sections of trees had been rolled into the flat space in front of the hill and placed about seven feet apart, and Jake asked Jess to sit on the left one and Ryan to take the right. Mother and son sat gingerly and awaited developments, frequently casting each other concerned looks.

The shamans stared silently for some time, and then slowly began talking quietly amongst themselves, sometimes gesturing toward the guests of honor (or perhaps 'Guinea pigs' was a better term) and sometimes using sticks to draw illustrative figures in the dirt. Since all their conversation was in the native tongue, neither Ryan nor Jess had any clue what was being said; and, since being discussed in a language you don't understand is inherently stressful, it did nothing to relax them.

After a very long twenty-five minutes, during which Ryan and his mom could only sit and shift uncomfortably, Adouwe and Jake stepped forward, and Jake said, "The last time you were here, you said you were sharing dreams, having visions, even saying and doing things you normally wouldn't. Has this kept on?"

"Yes," Jessica said, blushing deeply. "It's gotten worse -- a lot worse."

Adouwe didn't look surprised as he said, "I know this will be hard, but we need you to tell us everything, every detail. Don't let embarrassment keep you from being honest. We don't know what detail might be the key to this whole thing."

Jess exchanged a worried look with her son, but she was the one to start. Once she'd begun, though, Ryan quickly joined, and soon they were filling in details of the other's statements and finishing each other's sentences like an old married couple. Jess included the most embarrassing thing for her, which was the eagerness with which she devoured Ryan's cum from her pussy. Ryan told about calling Lexy "mom," and even about his times with Trish that were all family roleplaying; this revelation earned a dismayed look from his mother, a look that became more and more withering the longer he spoke. Jake translated as they went, and when they were done a general discussion broke out among the shamans, leaving Jess to whisper, "Trish Hendricks? Seriously?"

"Sorry," Ryan said, spreading his hands helplessly.

"Why? Why her?"

"I needed somebody I could call 'mom' while we had sex. She loved it. She's...she's kind of a freak."

"I'm going to have to power-wash you with hand sanitizer. Please tell me you wore a condom."

"Of course I did! The only one I want to get pregnant is you." The instant after he said it, Ryan realized what words had just spilled out of his face and he clamped both hands over mouth like a cartoon character. Jess didn't know how to respond to that (or to the gigantic surge of arousal that had almost made her leap across the gap between them and rip his clothes off) so she just nodded and turned back to the shamans.

They only had a couple more minutes to feel uncomfortable about it before Jake and Adouwe turned back to them. "We've got some questions for you," Jake said. "Some of them will be a bit...intrusive. It's important that you answer them all as completely and honestly as you can. Alright?"

It wouldn't matter if it wasn't alright, so both Ryan and Jess gave their assent and Jake began asking questions for the group. How strong was their attraction when they were together versus when they were apart? Were they able to be aroused by other people or did they need to fantasize about each other to come? How long did they think they could they be alone together before they broke down and had sex? Did the waking visions feel real when they were happening or were there weird things about them that might indicate they were dreams? On and on the questions went, dozens of them, and before long they had answered so many that it didn't even feel awkward anymore. The whole thing was a strange mixture of incredibly intimate and bizarrely impersonal, like they were being quizzed about their most private secrets by a panel of bloodless bureaucrats. Eventually the questions were done and the shamans went back to ignoring them.

After a few minutes of silence wherein son and mother contemplated each other's responses to the, Ryan turned to his mother and quietly asked, "Do you really masturbate to me in the shower?"

"At least twice a day," she told him in a smiling whisper. "Do you always think of me when you jerk that big, beautiful cock?"

"Every time, and I don't even go soft when I'm done. I think I could come for you twenty times a day."

Jess' eyes blazed and her smile became that of a she-wolf at the very thought of taking a score of creampies from her perfect son every day, and without realizing it she began openly squeezing her breast. She was about to say something incredibly salacious when suddenly Jake stepped between them, snapping his fingers and saying, "Hey, hey, come back. I think you two were about to jump each other."

Ryan shifted to relieve the pressure of his hardon against his shorts and smiled ruefully. "Sorry. It just happens."

"We know," Jake told him. "It was actually really helpful to see it in person, we learned a lot."

"Oh...good," Jess said, feeling acutely humiliated nevertheless. "Glad we could be of service."

They only had a couple of minutes more to feel conspicuous before the shamans all stood (the older ones with help, though nobody seemed to be willing to get close enough to the Old Woman to assist her). Jake trotted over and said, "We're just having a little break, getting some tucker. Care to join us?"

They hadn't had time to eat breakfast before dashing out of the hotel, so anything to eat sounded wonderful. It turned out to be papayas, mangoes, the local variety of orange, and some sort of meat jerky (goat, they soon learned), plus bottles of Coke that had been slightly cooled in a net hanging in the river. Most of the shamans could speak a little English (a very little, in some cases) so Ryan and Jess managed to have some brief conversations before they managed to pigeonhole Adouwe. "Well?" Jess asked. "What's the verdict?"

"None yet," he admitted. "We're seeing possibilities, but there's something else we need to do first. It, um, it might be a bit awkward for you."

Ryan exchanged a worried glance with his mother and asked, "You're not going to ask us to have sex, are you?"

"No, no, that would bung things up good and proper. But you are going to have to take off your clothes and look at each other for a while."

Son and mother looked startled at the news -- they had seen each other naked constantly in dreams, but never in real life. Nibbling her lower lip, Jess asked, "Do we have to?"

"It's the last test," Adouwe replied. "Oh, and you'll have to drink some tea."

"What kind of tea?" Ryan asked, eyes narrowed.

"It's an herbal tea, completely harmless. But it will let us see your spirits more clearly. That's the really vital piece that we're missing so far."

"It's not another blessing, is it?" Jess asked.

"No no, we drink it all the time around here. It's really tasty."

When they were alone again, Jess asked her son, "Are you OK with this? Taking off your clothes in front of me?"

"Mom, I want to see you naked so bad it hurts. Literally, my cock hurts from how hard it is."

She looked down and licked her lips. "I...see. I feel the same way about finally seeing you. It's just...it feels like we've been fighting this for years instead of a few days. I'm worn down, Ryan. I feel like I might just fuck your brains out in front of everyone no matter the consequences."

"God that would be amazing," he sighed. "But we can't forget why we're here. We need to stop this, not indulge."

"I know," she sighed. "I really do. But it feels like we've been trying to hold back the tide. I can't believe we've had the strength to only do the little we have."

He put his hands on her shoulders and she looked up at him. "The fight will be worth it, you'll see. They'll fix this and we'll go back to just being family...as much as we can, anyway. We'll have to figure out what that means, but we love each other. That goes a long way."

She smiled, feeling a little bit of her son's confidence infect her. "We do, don't we? I couldn't ask for a better son."

"And you're the best mom I can even imagine."

They were silently holding hands a couple minutes later when Jake approached them with a pair of cups filled with a clear greenish liquid. "Here you go. Drink all of it, please."

Jess took a cup and sniffed it; it had a strong odor of spice, but it was in no way unpleasant. She ventured a sip, and without even realizing it she made a yummy sound.

"Not bad, eh?" Jake chuckled. "I love the stuff. We'll be ready to go in ten minutes or so."

Even Ryan, who wasn't a tea drinker, found the drink pretty good, and they were finished with their cups a few minutes before the shamans finished their discussions. Jake gathered their cups and went into one of the houses as Adouwe said, "If you could stand next to your seats and face each other? We'll need you to take everything off."

There was no point in worrying about it now, it just had to be done. They were awkward and hesitant, but they complied. It wasn't getting naked in front of each other that bothered them, but Jess especially was intimidated by being nude in front of a gaggle of strange old men. She couldn't let that stop her though.

Ryan watched avidly as she got down to her bra and panties, and she watched him the same way as he peeled off his shorts and stood in his black boxers that were tented so severely that the elastic was pulled away from his hard, flat stomach. The avidity on her son's face put a grin on her lips as she reached around behind her and unsnapped her bra, tossing it to the side and letting her tits stand out with a proud jiggle. Never in her life had her breasts looked this good, not even when she was a nineteen-year-old and her jugs defied gravity, and the sheer lust on Ryan's face as he looked at her was utterly delightful.

It was his turn then, and he pushed his underwear down over his hips. There was a moment of resistance as he dragged them over his erection, but finally he got them past it and his cock jumped out like a panther. Jess gasped aloud when she saw it, nine thick inches of pleasure, purple with desire, veins standing out on the side like corded muscle, and all she could think is, It's made for me. It will fit me like no other penis in existence and it will make perfect babies inside me.

Ryan was in an erotic haze that had pushed all thoughts of spectators from his mind. He saw the look on Jess' face and grinned as he wrapped a meaty fist around it. She was practically drooling as he gave it a long, slow stroke from the base to the crown and then back.

Jess wasn't sure how she kept from leaping across the gap and pulling that thing into her mouth, but she shook her head, looked into her son's face, and pulled her panties down, letting them fall so she could step out of them. Ryan's eyes were standing out of his head, and she could only giggle as she ran a fingertip along her dripping slit and then, slowly, raised the finger to her mouth to suck off her own juices. "Do you like it, babe?" she whispered. "It's yours. This is your pussy, whenever you want it. I'll never say no."

Ryan stepped forward and would have claimed his pussy then and there except for a barrage of coughs, cleared throats, and other barnyard sounds from the assembled shamans. Like they'd been slapped, Ryan and Jessica jerked their eyes away from each other and stared at the ground, blushing profusely. Jake stepped between them, asking, "Are you alright? In control of yourselves?"

"Control comes and goes," Ryan mumbled.

"The feeling...the pull," Jess said. "It's stronger than it's ever been before. I don't know how long I can resist it, so please hurry."

"I'll be here to stop you if you start to do something," Jake assured them. "I'm going to go back to the group, and when I do, we'll need you to stand and look at each other. Appreciate each other as much as you can without losing your grip. We'll tell you when you can sit down."
They stood in front of his seat as naked as the day he was born, staring hard at his object of lust. His mother looked absolutely stunning, more beautiful than any woman he'd ever seen except for the Seetsahm of his dreams. Her body couldn't have been more perfect, with broad shoulders that were perfectly suited to carrying her big, full breasts; a tummy that no longer contained an ounce of fat; broad hips perfect for giving birth; a trimmed strip of pubic hair that had already gone fully dark brown nestling above a pussy whose lips were gently parted from lust and that shone in the sunlight; and a pair of legs that were long and strong and shapely. She didn't look forty-four, or thirty-five, or even thirty; from the neck down she was twenty-five years old, and the lines and creases that remained on her face and neck had grown so faint that they only added a few years. How could I ever want another woman after this? How could anyone compare?

Jess was looking back at a swimmer's physique honed to perfection, every muscle standing out in perfect relief, toned and tempered and steely. His chest was broad and powerful, his arms strong without being musclebound. His hips were narrow and his legs were like pillars of steel -- and between them was the most perfectly beautiful thing she had ever seen. And Lord, how she needed that thing inside her! Why did she even care about Paul when she had this young god ready to fuck her and breed her over and over and stay by her side for a century or more? Forty-four years ago she had been born to fuck her son, and eighteen years ago he had been born to fuck her, and nothing else did or could matter.

Neither was aware of the passage of time, but suddenly Jake called, "Please sit down now, and keep looking at each other. This may take a while, so make yourselves as comfortable as you can."

Once more they started from the erotic fog they were sinking into and slipped guiltily onto their seats. Jake said to make themselves comfortable but there was nothing comfortable at all about these stumps, so they ended up perched like nervous birds, shifting frequently as one position or another became painful. They looked at each other as instructed, at least most of the time; once in a while one or the other would study the assembly of shamans sitting on the slope, and they both came to the independent conclusions that the shamans weren't looking at them as all, but rather they were studying the seven open feet that separated them. It was all beginning to seem stupid, and every time one or the other tried to ask a question, Jake or Adouwe shushed them.

Most uncomfortable of all was the Old Woman, whose sat on the hillside like a raven on the bust of Athena. At the best of times she was an ominous and unsettling presence, but now she looked like she wanted to kill them both because they annoyed her. Both Ryan and Jess glanced over at her now and then, but her expression was so malevolent that it somehow became compelling. Not only that, but she also looked so old that any reasonable person would be dead at her age, which only added to her strange menace.

Finally Jess whispered, "How old do you think she is?"

"The Old Woman? She might have been around when they invented fire for all I can tell."

"Something just occurred to me, but it's probably stupid."

"I'm buckass nude in front of my mom with an erection that won't go down. If anyone should feel stupid, it's me. What's your idea?"

"Well...you know how they said that Ratu and Fa'ahotu lived for a long time but died after like a century and a half or something? Well...what if she didn't die? What if that's Fa'ahotu?"

Ryan's jaw dropped, and he slowly turned to look at the Old Woman. "That...that makes sense. It would explain why she was so against us getting the blessing. She didn't want anyone else to have it except her!"

"Right!" Jess said. "Do you think she really could be?"

"I bet she is!"

"Oh for the bloody fuck's sake!" the Old Woman snapped in English thick with the native accent. "You two are a couple of bloody morons! Do you really think I look 800 years old?"

Jess and Ryan exchanged astonished looks -- the Old Woman had given no indication that she spoke anything but the native language -- and then looked back at the woman. Finally Ryan said, "Well...yeah."

"Kinda," Jess admitted.

"You stupid bloody wallies! You idiotic cunts! I can't believe we bestowed the pilaliuta on the stupidest two cunts on planet bloody Earth!"

Before Jess and Ryan could respond, Jake jumped in to speak the native tongue in soothing tones to the Old Woman; the Old Woman, in turn, seemed only to get angrier, unleashing what could only have been a stream of incomprehensible native invective on mother and son (although she did frequently use the English word "cunts" so that they didn't feel completely left out). Finally she jabbed her walking stick in the direction of the Americans, screaming, "I'M NINETY-THREE, NOT EIGHT CENTURIES, YOU STUPID! BLOODY! CUNTS!"

If she had only been venting at him, Ryan could have stood it, even laughed at it. But the Old Woman was including his mother in the insults, and he had had enough. He leaped to his feet, pointing an accusing finger at the Old Woman and shouting, "SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU NASTY OLD BITCH! I've had all of you I'm willing to take!"

The Old Woman's eyes went wide and she snarled, "Who the fuck do you think you are, you stupid bloody American boy-diddler?"

Ryan took two long steps toward her and said in a low, deadly tone, "I'll tell you who I am: I'm the biggest magic any of you have ever seen. I've got powers in me your vicious old mind can't even imagine. And you? You're useless."

Jake stepped forward to intervene, but Ryan put him back in his place with a hard glare before turning back to the woman. "You speak English and that means you understood everything that was said before and during the ceremony. You could have stopped it if you wanted to -- Adouwe wouldn't have listened to you if you'd have put your foot down. But no, you're either too stupid or too feeble to understand what you were looking at -- either that, or you wanted to let it continue so you'd have something more to whine about!

"But here's the thing: we've had it with you. If you say one more word that's not helpful and pleasant -- man, if I even think you said one word -- I will hit you with a curse stronger than anything you've ever seen. It will be a curse of...of constipation! You'll never crap again. It will build up and build up until you explode and die the way you lived: full of shit. Understand?"

Of course Ryan had no ability to do any of that, but the shamans all seemed to think he did. More to the point, the Old Woman looked terrified, and she cowered back from him like her anus was already stitching shut. After a moment Jake went over to her and quietly said something in the native language, and the Old Woman nodded jerkily. She tried to stand but Jake had to help her up -- once standing, though, she made good time down the hill and toward the surrounding forest, moving much quicker than anyone who walked at a ninety-degree angle had any right to. She paused at the forest edge to throw a last fearful glance over her shoulder before disappearing into the bush.

Jake watched her leave and then turned to Ryan. "Um...I really hope you won't do what you said. We value our elders on this island, even when nobody can quite figure out why."

"Nah," Ryan said breezily as he sat back down. "I just wanted to get her attention."

"You know," Adouwe mused, "I thought she was Fa'ahotu as well. Learn something new every day."

Ryan looked over at Jess, who was obviously trying to keep from laughing. Soundlessly she mouthed the words "Thank you," to which he responded with a smile and a wink. It was nice to be able to exert control of something for a change.

After that there was nothing to do but sit and wait. The sun got higher and started to creep into the clearing, where two very naked white people sat on pieces of wood. Jess, who didn't want her pussy sunburned, mentioned it to Jake, and in a few minutes several of the shamans had erected some poles and stretched a tarpaulin over it to make a kind of awning. And then there was nothing to do but sit and wait again as she shamans talked with growing intensity. After a while, for something to do and to keep the horniness at bay, they started making ridiculous faces at each other, and soon they were laughing.

Suddenly they became aware that the shamans had ceased their discussions, and they looked over to see Jake asking Adouwe, "So those are our options?"

"Yes," the old man nodded. "We've narrowed it to those."

"And we're sure those will work?"

"One definitely will. The others, well, we're as sure as we can be of anything in this situation."

"Right," Jake nodded. He took a deep breath and turned to Ryan and Jess. "Alright, we're ready to tell you what we've come up with."

Jess and Ryan mimicked his deep breath and gave each other a long look before turning their attention to the apprentice shaman. With a nod, Ryan said, "Let's hear it then."

"Alright, first of all, we all wanted to fix this completely and set things back the way they were before our...error in judgment. Unfortunately, that's not possible."

Mother and son both sagged, but it was Jessica who asked, "Why not?"

"Remember when I told you before about your spirits being like two rugs that were being knitted together into a third thing? That's gone way, way too far now to turn it back. We were actually watching it happen before our eyes just now. In fact, we doubt it could have been reversed even if we'd have known what to try immediately after the pilaliuta was finished -- it's the strongest spiritual force any of us have ever seen, just blinding."

"So it's hopeless," Jess muttered.

"Not so fast," Jake said. "We've figured out that there are three things we could do -- I mean, we can only do one of them because they're mutually exclusive, but you have three options."

"Options, OK," Ryan said with a note of hope in his voice. "Tells us those."

"Alright. The first one would absolutely put a stop to your spirits being joined, but there are...severe side effects."

"What side effects?" Jessica asked. "What would you do?"

"Um, well, we would kill you," Jake said.

"WHAT?" Ryan shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "Why would you even bring that up?"

"Because if you were desperate enough to avoid the alternative, you might choose it. It would be painless for you -- we'd give you something to drink here and you'd just go to sleep and not wake up. Then we'd put you in your Jeep and send it over a cliff. Your family would think it was a tragic accident, but they'd be spared what would come if the spirit-joining were allowed to continue. Some folks might go for this option."

"We we definitely will not," Jess said decisively.

"Damned straight," Ryan nodded.

"Right, can't say I blame you," Jake nodded. "It's a bit extreme. The second thing we can do is another ceremony -- "

"Right, because the last one turned out so well," Ryan grumped.

"This would be a ceremony to slow the spirit-joining down as much as we can. Not permanently, probably, but it might roll it back a little in the short term, make these urges and dreams and feelings a little easier to face. Eventually that part would wear off and it would resume, but slower -- again, for a while."

"What sort of time frame are we looking at here?" Jess asked.

"Ah, that's the sticky part: we don't know. We're sailing uncharted waters here, nobody has ever tried anything remotely like this before so we just don't have hard data."

Ryan nodded. "OK, best guess then."

"Best guess would be the rollback would last maybe three or four months," Jake said, "and the slowdown would maybe hold for six months, maybe a year. Some think less, and that fellah at the end there in the yellow shirt thinks that between the ceremony and the distance you'll put between you and this island, it might last for ten years or more. I think he's overly optimistic about that part."

"Six months or a year," Jessica said quietly and in a hollow voice that was almost frightening. "And after that?"

"Well, then the joining would continue. It may even pick up the pace to make up for lost time. Regardless, you'll end up together for a long, long time and make a lot of healthy babies, just like the blessing was meant to do."

"That's insane," Ryan muttered. "That's just...unacceptable."

"You can't demand to see the manager, unfortunately," Jake said. "You've seen them all already, and this is the best they can offer."

"Wait," Jess said. "You told us there were three options. What's the third?"

"Right, the third," Jake said. "This is going to sound a bit...counter-intuitive. Maybe even mad. But personally I think it's the best option, and I'd encourage you to think about it long and hard before turning it down."

"OK, so that's ominous as fuck," Ryan said. "Just tell us."

"There's another ceremony we could do. You see, if you don't do anything at all, we reckon you've got three weeks or a month before your spirits are completely joined and all the changes are finished. And those three or four weeks will be hard if you fight them-- you'll be miserable every single day, and the harder you fight, the worse it will be. That's true of the other blessing as well, only the misery will be drawn out over months. And in the end it won't matter. You'll be joined anyway."

"Quit sugar-coating it," Ryan sighed. "Tell us how badly we're really fucked."

"That's just it: you don't have to be. The blessing we gave you will make you young, strong, vigorous, madly in love with each other, happy every day, prosperous as Croesus, as many kids as you want, the whole thing. It's a blessing meant to give you the best lives anyone could ask for. When it finally happens, when it's done and over, you'll never have any doubts or any questions, you'll know it's the best thing that could ever have happened to you. So we can do another ceremony to make it easier on you, easier to accept without stress, faster, everything. Within five days you'll be starting your lives together as the happiest people on the planet."

"Aghast" didn't begin to describe how Jess and Ryan took that suggestion. They were so dismayed that they couldn't even speak.

"I know it's the opposite of what you wanted," Jake went on. "But what you wanted isn't possible. Your spirits will become one, and no force short of death can stop it. You can move to opposite sides of the planet and you'll still be pulled back together as fast as if you stayed together. But this way, it doesn't need to be traumatic. It doesn't need to be hard. You just embrace it and be happier than you ever could be otherwise."

Jess leaned back so far she almost fell off her stool. Ryan put his elbows on his knees and covered his face in his hands. Neither spoke for a long time. Finally Jake said, "This is the biggest decision either of you will ever make. Take some time. Get dressed and go inside that house there. Have something to eat, maybe some whiskey. Figure out what's best for you and we'll take it from there."

Like automatons, the mother and only son stood and began to pull their clothes back on.
That Damned Blessing Ch. 04
In Which the Best Is Made of a Bad Situation.
Author's Note: All imaginary persons I imagined for the purposes of this story who engage in sexual activity of the imaginary variety are 18 imaginary years old or older, I imagine. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is coincidental but obviously fated to be, so blame the Universe and not me.

Up next: Are You Tiffani Caine? Chapter 5

That Damned Blessing, Chapter 4:

In Which the Best is Made of a Bad Situation

Day Ten

Three options had been given. The first - that both of them die - had been rejected out of hand. The second was an indefinite delay of Ryan and Jess' joining of spirits, but one that would be difficult, painful, and temporary, and in their end would change their fates not at all. The third was to abandon all resistance and embrace the changes, to become a blissful couple, to make love and to make babies and to become rich in all the things that made life good. It had been left up to them, and the shamans were breaking up into small groups to speak in their native language.

Mother and son sat naked on stumps in the central clearing of the village as Jake explained it all. Jess leaned back so far she almost fell off her stool. Ryan put his elbows on his knees and covered his face in his hands. Neither spoke for a long time. Finally Jake said, "This is the biggest decision either of you will ever make. Take some time. Get dressed and go inside that house there. Have something to eat, maybe some whiskey. Figure out what's best for you and we'll take it from there."

Like automatons, the mother and only son stood and began to pull their clothes back on. Although they hadn't been able to take their eyes off each other while the shamans were examining them, now that they had been presented with the options, each was in their own world, staring at the ground or up at the sky as they dressed but seeing nothing. Ryan finished dressing first and watched his mother as she buttoned her last few buttons, and then they both headed for the house where they'd been several times before.

As they entered the house, they noticed that one of the shamans, a very wrinkled and elderly man, was following them. Ryan asked him if he was going to listen to their discussion, and the man looked lost for a moment and then turned and said something to Jake in the native language. Jake said, "Oh don't worry, this is Kennan. Doesn't speak a word of English. He'll just be there to interrupt if you two get caught up again and start doing something physical."

Jess and Ryan looked at each other and shrugged, and Jess said, "Good idea. It sounds like if we...if we have intercourse, it might be bad for the magic."

"Well, sort of," Jake said, scratching back of his head. "It would make it impossible to slow down what's going on, but you two goin' at it is actually a part of the ceremony to speed things up. So if you two have a naughty, well, you're makin' your choice."

"Wow," Ryan said, turning to his mother. "It's lucky for us we stopped when we did last night. If we'd have kept on..."

They took a seat at the table while Kennan grabbed a chair across the room, put his feet up on the end table, and started drinking a warm Coke. It was Ryan who spoke first. "Alright, so...speed up or slow down. What are your thoughts?"

Jessica shook her head sadly. "I can't believe we're going to end up together no matter what, that I'm going to become Seetsahm. I'm going to become a whole different person, Ryan, at least physically. I don't know. I just...wish it didn't sound so wonderful right now. It's everything I can do to keep from picking the third option right now and just jumping into it."

"I know what you mean. The idea of getting to put baby after baby into you is so wonderful that I almost can't think of anything else. But we have to."

"Can I tell you something that's so crazy that I can barely wrap my head around it?"

"Of course Seets - ah, mom. You can tell me anything. I think we're past the secret-keeping stage."

"I guess we are at that," she chuckled mirthlessly. "I started getting my height early. By first grade I was the tallest kid in class, and I hated it. I was born with flaming ginger hair and I hated that too. I hated burning and getting sick when I went out in the sun. All I ever wanted to be was short and dark-haired and tanned."

Ryan's eyes widened. "Do you think..."

"I don't know what to think. Maybe...maybe I've been destined to be Seetsahm since the day I was born. Maybe all this was...what, fated? And if that's the case..."

"Then why fight it?" Ryan nodded. "In our dreams or whatever the hell they are, it's always felt that way, hasn't it? Not just that we were supposed to be together, but that we've always been together, like time doesn't mean anything. Like we were together before the Earth formed or something."

"That's what I always felt too," she said. "So do you think we should just get it over with?"

"I want to, god I want to. But there's another part of me that wants to keep fighting it. That part's gotten smaller every day, but it's still there and it's still loud. If it were just us, then yeah, I'd say take option three and live happily ever after. But it's not just us, is it? It's dad, it's Kim."

"Yeah. Yeah. And if I change all of a sudden, they might just throw me in an isolation ward because they think I've caught some weird disease that's causing all of it. How are we even going to handle this when it eventually happens?"

"I don't know, but...what if it doesn't?"

She frowned. "They said there was nothing they could do to stop it."

"Yeah, but do you trust them? They ain't exactly NASA, you know? What if we get to Australia and it stops? Or back home and it stops?"

"What if it doesn't?"

"Then we haven't lost anything by giving it a shot. If we pick the second option, the delaying one, and we play for time? Maybe the whole thing just wears off by itself. Maybe we just need to ride out the storm."

Jess looked into her son's eyes. "Do you believe that? With everything we've been through, do you really believe that?"

"I...no," he admitted. "At least I don't think it's very likely. But a slim chance is better than no chance."

"But if we just accept it...it's so tempting, babe. So much of me wants to just say fuck it and grab it with both hands."

"Me too." A long pause, then, "We could. I mean, all we have to do is tell these guys that and all this worry and stress will be over. Jake says that us fucking is part of the ceremony - maybe I could even knock you up today."

Jess flushed deeply and squeezed her breast through her blouse. "God that sounds amazing. I just know that when you come in me for real you're going to make a baby in me no matter how much birth control we use. It sounds so fucking perfect."

"And when those big tits of yours fill up with milk," he said, grinning wolfishly, "that will be hot as fuck."

"They fed you," she said, pinching her nipple and giving it a twirl through her blouse, "and they'll feed our children too. And you'll help with any milk I have left over, won't you?"

"Damn right," he said. He leaned forward at the same time as she did, and their tongues wrapped around each other in a frantic kiss. At the same moment his hand slipped up her blouse and pushed her bra cup up so that the nipple that had been between her fingers a moment ago was now between his. She moaned in sheer delight, arching her back to press her breast into his hand while her own hands deftly unzipped his fly and pulled forth his thick, rock-hard cock -

A burst of sheer babble pulled them away from the kiss and the looked up in surprise to see Kennan standing in front of them talking excitedly in his own language. Ryan stared at him for a long moment, then leaned back and said, "I guess that was real."

"I guess it was. I'm glad he was here to stop us before we went too far." Another burst of gabble from the old man, and mother and son looked down at her hand, which was still stroking his cock. Very reluctantly she forced herself to relinquish the grip and leaned away.

"Whatever decision we make, we better make it now before this fucking blessing decides for us," Ryan sighed, tucking his junk away.

Kennan sat down again, this time at the table, and eyed them both.

"Right," Jess sighed. "Right. OK. So..."

"So dad. Kim. As much as I want it, we can't just give in without a fight."

After a moment of internal struggle that was obvious on her face, she nodded. "You're right. Of course you're right."

"So. Option number two?"

"Yeah. OK."

"Then let's tell them before we change our minds," he said, standing up from the table and offering his hand. She adjusted her clothes, stood, and took his hand. Kennan fell in behind them as they walked out the door.

Jake must have been keeping an eye on the place, because the instant they appeared, he broke himself away from the little knot of shamans he was talking to and hurried over to them. "Hello. Have you made your choice already?"

"Yeah," Ryan said. "We're fighting it. We may lose, but we'll go down swinging."

Something that might have been pity flared in his eyes, but he nodded. "That's the one we figured you'd pick. Have a seat back on those stumps. I'll let everyone know."

"Do we have to be naked this time?" Jessica asked. Her son's eyes on her bare body were thrilling, so she wanted to hear a yes.

Unfortunately: "Nah, just have a seat. We'll scrounge you up some water and some food. This is going to take the rest of the day, so if you need to use the dunny you should do it before we start." He walked a few feet off, then paused and turned to add, "Oh, and it won't be fun. Sorry, but there's no way around it."

Plates were brought for each of them: Thick slices of grilled Spam, some kind of salad consisting of local greens and vegetables, a little fruit. Fortunately the awning was still up so neither of them burned to death under the late-morning tropical sun as the shamans buzzed around them getting things set up. The old geezers actually seemed excited to be a part of it, but then it was the most interesting thing to happen in Ranu Ratu for centuries. Toilets (really, barely outhouses) were used. Mother and son whispered quiet "I love yous" and "Good lucks." Finally Adouwe asked, "Are you ready?"

"I guess as ready as we can be," Ryan answered. "Are you sure this is going to work?"

"As sure as we can be," Adouwe echoed Ryan's uncertainty with a shrug. In the face of such overwhelming confidence, Ryan and Jess exchanged nervous glances and set their mouths into grim frowns.

The ceremony began simply enough, with some call-and-response chanting from Adouwe to the rest of the shamans and back. At some point someone lit a pile of wood - one of six that had been laid out in a circle around them - and it quickly caught, producing copious amounts of bluish smoke that made mother and son cough. After that, more chanting.

It had been going for five minutes or so before Ryan felt something tugging at the corner of his mind, an insistent pull that distracted him from the unavoidable erotic thoughts about Seetsahm. It felt like a persistent itch in his mind, and like any itch that you can't scratch, it quickly became the focus of his attention. Also like any unscratched itch, it quickly swelled from an irritant to something more akin to pain, but inside his thoughts - not inside his brain, but the ideas his brain produced. It was the damnedest thing, and a quick glance at Jessica told him that she was experiencing the same thing.

Do not do this. The thought was powerful, unavoidable, standing in defiance of that itch and demanding that his mind return to thoughts of his mom's plump lips wrapping around his shaft, to the way he knew her pussy would taste if they just abandoned this futile resistance and gave in to destiny, to the rapture that would accompany their first real time together and the creation of the first of so many healthy, wonderful children.

The itch recoiled, hovered, zoomed in like a dragonfly to snip at the edges of that sexual resolve. The conflict between the two opposing paradigms fucking hurt, and a few feet away Jess moaned aloud and clutched her skull in both hands. The pain only grew, and in a couple of minutes it was a headache that made the world's worst migraine feel like a warm compress after a stressful day. He heard his mother screaming for a while before he realized he was doing the same. He wanted to shout Stop, to help her, but he was paralyzed -

And then without warning the pain receded to a dull throbbing in the center of his mind that was only as painful as it had been when he had gotten a moderate concussion a couple of years ago: still very painful, but nothing to what had come before. Squinting against the bright sunlight, he saw his mother looking around in bleary, confused discomfort. "Mom, you alright?"

"I...uh...yeah, I can hack it. Are you hanging in there, kiddo?"

"Yeah...screaming helps, kinda."

Then Jake was in front of them. "Drink some water, you've both been sweating like orangutans."

"I didn't know they sweated," Jess muttered.

"They're covered in long hair in tropical jungles, they sweat like humans. The first part of the ceremony went great, so just hang in there."

"How many parts are there?" Ryan mumbled.

"Six."

"Well. FML."

Another pile of wood was lit, this one giving off sweet, pinkish smoke that made it hard to keep their eyes open. The ceremony continued, for a moment Jess panicked because the way her chest exploded into agony and the pain raced down her arms made her certain she was having a heart attack. The agony arched her spine and opened her mouth in a silent wail - and then was gone, leaving an ache all through her upper body. She looked at her son, and from the way he moaned as he shifted in his seat, she knew he had just felt the same thing. And then the pain hit again, receded again, hit again, receded again, over and over, too many times for her to count...

And then it was done, leaving her feeling like she had just been beaten with a club, in addition to still feeling the pain in her mind from the first part of the ceremony. They drank more water, at least a gallon each without feeling satisfied. Jake came around to check on them and told them that what they were feeling was normal - well, not normal normal since nothing about this was normal, but at least expected. He assured them that things were going well and according to plan, and he sounded like he meant it. Oddly, it didn't make them feel better.

The third wood pile gave off a maroon smoke when it was lit, and one smell of it was enough to make them both give involuntary shrieks of pain. Ryan felt like he was burning, aflame head to toe, and it would have made him leap up and flee but there was no way his muscles were obeying. The briefest of lulls between waves of misery allowed him to look at himself and see that he looked perfectly normal and was definitely not on fire, and that Jessica was plainly doing through the same thing. Another wave of pain hit and on and on, so that by the time this part of the ceremony concluded, he was barely capable of rational thought.

A break then when they were urged to eat. They both refused initially, but the shamans wouldn't let up until each of them had consumed a fair amount of fruit in addition to the huge amounts of water they craved. They sat there panting as the shamans finished their meal and prepared to light the next pile, and Jessica finally summoned enough steadiness to turn to her son and ask, "Are you hanging in there alright?"

"Barely," he said. "I don't know how much more of this I can take. You?"

"Same. Do you feel like it's having any effect on you?"

He thought for a moment, at least as much as the pain allowed, and recalled the most erotic dream they'd shared, the one where he was fucking her on the field during a Brewers game and the whole crowd was cheering on the conception of their first child. After a moment he shook his head and said, "Thinking of us fucking doesn't do a thing for me now."

She paused, plainly thinking of something they'd done in dreams, then said, "Me neither, though that might just be because I'm in so much pain right now that I couldn't get horny no matter what happened."

"Good point," he nodded. "My blood isn't even on speaking terms with my D at the moment."

"So...progress?" she asked hopefully.

"I think so. Progress. Yeah."

The next pile burned faintly green and smelled like cinnamon, which was quite nice for about thirty seconds before Jess's groin and abdomen flashed a pain so intense that it knocked all the wind out of her body. It felt like her entire reproductive system from vagina to ovaries and from vulva to uterus exploded all at once. And then of course the pain reduced and redoubled in its now-customary waves, so intense that it made her see colors she didn't know existed, and it was all she could do to cling to the very edges of consciousness as it went on and on endlessly.

But not endlessly, because suddenly the pain dwindled (though, like the other pains, it merely reduced itself to a barely-tolerable level and stayed there). A look over at her son revealed that he had leaned over and was noisily vomiting, looking ghastly and gray. She supposed she looked the same.

Jake made his inevitable appearance. "Hey, you're doing great. There's just two parts left, and neither of those will be half as bad as what you've just been through."

Jess looked up at him, eyes red, face slack from the experience she'd just been through. "I hate you. I hate all of you."

"Oh yeah, no, yeah, no, totally understand that," he said with a nod. "Drink more water, it will help put you right. Oh, there is one thing: how do you say the name of your home town again?"

Ryan and Jess both wondered why that was so important (they'd said it about twenty times during the first blessing) but both felt too terrible to question it. All Ryan could so was mumble, "I guess the name of the place must be pretty important."

"That it is," Jake agreed with his habitual cheer. "Getting that right is as important as getting everything else right."

The two repeated the name of their city a dozen times until Jake had it down perfectly, then guzzled water as the shamans got themselves set.

"Mom?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"When we decided to take this route, I was really doubting myself. I wanted you so bad that putting it off felt like cutting my own throat. But now, after so much of this has been done, I don't feel that anymore. I want us to go back to being a normal family. I want dad to be able to come back to you being a faithful wife. I want things to be the way they were before we came to these islands."

Jess nodded as her son spoke, and then carefully thought about her response. Finally she said, "I was right there with you. We we told Jake that we wanted to delay it, I wanted so badly to knock you down and ride some cum out of you so we could just be together. But now...now, I can't even remember how that felt, only that I felt it."

"I'd jump for joy if I didn't feel like I'd die if I tried it."

"There's my little smartass. I love you, kiddo."

"Love you too, mom."

The smoke from the next pile was a sooty-grayish black that smelled like freshly-turned earth, and at the first whiff of it Ryan's head started to swim. Within moments his vision had gone blurry, and less than a minute later all he could make out of the world around him were vaguely-colored blobs that whirled and spun in clashing directions. He clutched the sides of his stump in a desperate effort to keep oriented, but up and down didn't seem to want to stay in their places, and left and right became concepts that were difficult even to remember.
It was impossible to know how long it went on, but slowly Jess became aware that the dizziness was subsiding somewhat. A moment later she realized she had dirt and dried grass in her mouth, and after that she understood that the reason why was that she wasn't on her stool anymore; rather, she was face down on the ground, her fingers dug into it as though she'd been trying to keep from flying off the face of the Earth. Her left leg was half on the stump, but somehow her shoe had come off. She tried to sit up but the lingering dizziness stopped her until three pairs of hands picked her up and set her back on her stump.

Off to her left, the same was happening to a bewildered-looking Ryan. Looking at him, all she could think was that she hoped he looked worse than she did, because if she looked that bad...

Jake again, refilling the water jug she had knocked over when she toppled. "Well that could have gone worse. Could have gone better too, unfortunately."

"Why? What happened?" Ryan asked.

"Adouwe and I will explain when the ceremony is finished. Only one more piece left, the easiest one. How are you two feeling?"

"Every cell in my body hurts and I'm having a very hard time staying upright," Jess said, trying not to sound accusatory.

"Right, well, that'll happen," Jake agreed happily. "How 'bout you, Ryan?"

"I just thought of Taco Bell and my thoughts hurt. How could my thoughts hurt?"

"Well come on, nobody should think of Taco Bell. But you're doing great - half the shamans figured you'd both be unconscious by now."

"It's not for lack of trying," Jess said dryly.

Jake left them alone to drink their water and talk between each other. They were both relieved that there was only one more part to this ordeal left to go, but neither of them felt much like chatting.

Soon enough white smoke was climbing out of the woodpile and the last part of the ceremony began. There was a sudden flare of agony in their thoughts, then another, then another...and then it faded, not to the subdued level they'd suffered since the ordeal began, but until it was completely gone. The chest pain came next - stab, stab, stab, then gone completely. The invisible fire on their skin made them scream briefly before it too went wholly away, then the same with the pain in their genitals. The dizziness was last, severe but transitory, and when it passed they were both pleased to find themselves still upright. They sat, blinking at each other in surprise as the chanting wound down.

"Are you OK, sweetie?" Jess whispered just loudly enough for him to hear.

"Fine, I feel...good. How are you?"

"No pain," she smiled. And it was true - the human nervous system is programmed to shed pain, and it was doing its job so well that even the mnemonic echoes of it were fading fast. She was hungry though, and to second that thought she heard Ryan's stomach rumble so loudly that it competed with the chanting.

In a couple of minutes Jake and Adouwe were there, hovering solicitously as the old man said, "You both need to eat. Come on, we're making a quick dinner,"

"How did it go?" Ryan asked, pushing himself to his feet and working out the stiffness of sitting on a stump for hours.

"To plan," Adouwe said, then paused. "Well, pretty much to plan."

Ryan narrowed his eyes. "I'm gonna need a fucking explanation."

"Language, sweetie," Jess corrected.

Ryan did not correct himself, and Jake said, "Look, let's head inside out of the sun and have a seat at the table. We'll hash it all out while dinner is being got ready."

A couple of minutes later they were all sitting at the familiar table, shamans on one side and McCullens on the other. Adouwe started off. "We did everything we could figure out how to do, but things didn't go just how we expected them to."

"We tried to correct mid-course, and we were pretty successful. In the grand scheme of things." Jake added.

"How successful?" Jess asked.

"Oh, pretty," Jake nodded. "Pretty much. You know, give or take a penny here and a dollar there."

"Just...just explain, OK?" Ryan sighed. "And no weird textile metaphors, please."

Adouwe looked confused at that and Jake explained in the native language, whereupon Adouwe nodded. "What we wanted to do was roll everything back as far as we could and put stoppers on it to slow it down. And that's what we did, only some things wouldn't roll back as far as other things."

"We had to tackle the whole shemozzle in pieces, right?" Jake said. "That's why we had to do six separate ceremonies. And now that the whole thing is done, we can say with real confidence that you'll have at least six months before the process finishes knitting you - uh, welding you two together. Finishes, not starts, because it's never going to stop until it's done. But you'll have those six months, maybe more, maybe even two or three times that long. We can't say for sure."

"I hear a big, fat, stinky but in there," Ryan frowned.

"But, it is uneven," Adouwe said. "Most often now you will be mother and son, but there will be..." He paused, turning to Jake and speaking in the native language.

"Breakthroughs, I suppose you'd call them," Jake said. "There will be times when you'll each get really hot for the other one, like how it's been happening. It won't be a continuous pressure, kind of just waves of real intense feeling that last for some period of time. And before you ask, no we can't tell you when or for how long."

"Difference, though," Adouwe said. "Up to now you had these dreams, these visions, at the same time. Maybe that will still happen, but usually it will be one or the other, not both."

"So that means I might come on to Ryan like a bitch in heat and beg him to breed me when he's, like, doing his homework or playing a game or something?"

"Yeah, that's the big and small," Jake nodded. "And when it happens like that, the other one will have the same natural reaction that they would have if you'd have tried it on before the pilaliuta ceremony that started it all."

"Revulsion, dismay, nausea?" Ryan offered.

"Bingo," Jake said, finger-gunning him. "Or lust. I'm not judging. So that's how the next few months will mostly go. Only sometimes you'll both have a breakthrough at the same time and it will be just like it's been here. And you need to be very careful, because if you finish inside of her fanny, she'll get pregnant and then there'll be no slowing anything down."

Both Ryan and Jess looked confused, but it was Jess who said, "Wait, wait,, if he comes in my butt, he'll get me pregnant?"

"What? No," Jake said. "The fanny is the, you know, the front bit. The baby-making bit."

"Oh," Ryan said, understanding dawning on his face. "Fanny means butt in America."

Jake looked back and forth between them as though trying to figure out if he was being teased. "And I thought Australians didn't bloody speak English."

"So..." Jess said slowly and thoughtfully, "if we have to...it gets too much for us to handle...anal is OK?"

"Mom!"

"I'm just saying, sweetie, we have to know so we can be prepared. If we both go crazy and we need to make love, then maybe doing it in the butt will let of blow off enough steam that we don't ruin everything."

Ryan moaned his disgust at the very idea.

Adouwe and Jake conferred in their language, then Adouwe turned to them and shrugged. "Arse is fine."

"No, no, not fine fine," Jake added hastily. "Anything you do to each other in the real world will speed things up. But anal sex would speed things up a lot less than the regular kind of sex."

"What about condoms and birth control pills and all that?" Ryan asked.

"We don't know," Adouwe shrugged. "Those kinds of things weren't around when the first ceremony was done, so the magic didn't take them into account. We think, though, that the magic will just make them not work. Maybe not. Hard to say."

All Jess could think about was waking up with her son's cum inside of her.

Ryan exhaled heavily. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, there is one thing," Jake said. "The reason we needed to know the name of your town was because when the Adouwe did the blessing, he included the whole place in it."

"It's a big magic, hard to control," Adouwe said. "Surprised I got it right the first time."

"Wait, what?" Ryan demanded. "What do you mean?"

"Back when Ratu and Fa'ahotu got the blessing, everyone in the islands agreed they deserved it and that magic was real," Adouwe said. "Not like these days in America. Big place, nobody believes in magic. I made it so all your neighbors, your whole village, would accept and...what's the bloody word...encourage you."

"Village?" Jessica asked. "There are over half a million people there. Are you telling me you put magic on that many people?"

"I...guess I did," Adouwe said, sounding amazed at his own prowess. "I'm better at this than I thought I was."

"We tried to slow that down too, to avoid people being weird to you when you get home. But like I told you, the results were uneven," Jake went on. "We pushed it back for most folks, so now they'll react like you'd normally expect them react you. That will last until you two finally get together - after that, they'll be all in, the whole place will be. But it looks like...well, for some people there, what we did might actually have achieved the opposite."

Jess frowned. "What does that mean?"

"Well most folks, especially people who don't know you, won't act any different than they did before," Jake told them. "But now...well, some folks will be really enthusiastic about it. It may be folks you know, but maybe complete strangers will just walk up to you and give you encouragement to get together."

Ryan groaned and hid his face in his hands. "You have got to be kidding me."

"How many?" Jess demanded. "Give me a percentage."

"Hard to say," Adouwe frowned. "Real hard to say. But maybe one or two in a hundred."

"ONE OR TWO IN A HUNDRED?" Jess shrieked. "I work with a hundred-eighteen people in my office. Are you telling me that one or two of them will be bugging me to let my son get me pregnant?"

"Maybe more, maybe nobody," Adouwe said, holding up his hands defensively. "Hard to say. Real hard to say."

"I go to school with 1,500 kids and like 120 teachers and staff," Ryan moaned. "Like 15 students and and a couple of teachers are gonna be up my ass about this. That's insane!"

"We have to admit here that we might be lowballing that estimate," Jake admitted reluctantly. "It could be three or four percent. We did the best we could. Maybe you can go to a smaller school?"

"I start a few days after we get back. I don't have time to find and get enrolled in another school. And the proportions there would be the same anyway. You guys have just set us up for real hell. I hope you know that."

"If it gets too much," Adouwe said, "you can always give in."

"Whoa there Ryan, unclench your fists," Jake said hastily. "He means well."

"His meaning well is what got us into this," Jess said levelly.

"Yeah, no, yeah, no, I know," Jake nodded. "But I think the point he was trying to make is that we haven't stopped anything. At some point, well, you will give in, your whole town will embrace it, and you'll be very happy together for a very long time. You can make it sooner or later, but there's no ducking it."

"I am SO tempted to lay a curse on these whole islands!" Ryan snarled.

"He can't curse anyone," Jess hastened to add. "He doesn't know how. He's just expressing the anger and frustration we both feel."

The shamans exchanged an uneasy look. It was Adouwe who said, "Maybe you'd better eat something. It will be dark soon and you don't want to drive down the mountain at night."

"Before that," Jess said, "there's something else. Before we came here this morning, we were both almost constantly...aroused. Is that going to just be how things are from now on?"

The two shamans exchanged a surprised look, and Jake asked, "Are you both extremely aroused now?"

"Yes," they answered in unison.

"For each other?"

"That's what was making us horny before," Ryan said, "but now I'm just horny, but like, for every woman except my mom."

"That's how it is for me," Jess nodded. "For every man except Ryan. Oh, and for women too."

Ryan jerked his head to stare at her. "What?"

"I'm kind of bi," she shrugged. "I did some stuff in college, but nothing since then. I mostly like guys anyway, but right now I'm so horny I'd take anything...anything except you."

The two shamans discussed it in their native language for a little while before Jake turned back to them and said, "Yeah, maybe you're both just horny from now on."

"Oh great," Ryan grumped. "How am I supposed to study or swim when I've got a 24/7 9-inch boner?"

Jess said nothing, but she was very glad she'd cleared things with Paul the day before.

Once again the shamans suggested dinner. There seemed nothing more to be said anyway. The four went out and had a meal of fresh fish and local vegetables and fruits. The shamans seemed awfully pleased with themselves on the whole. As for Jess and Ryan, they had a lot to say to each other but nothing that they wanted to say to the shamans, so they mostly remained silent for the duration of the dinner. After what they had gone through, the food was invigorating.

When they were done eating, they told Adouwe that they were going to leave, and he had all the shamans stand and sing a song to them; Jake explained that it was a standard farewell given to people who were embarking on a long voyage, was not magical, and could not backfire in any way. After that Jake and Adouwe exchanged a few private words with the pair, apologizing for everything, wishing them good luck, and hoping that their lives would be long and happy; the last part wasn't particularly welcome.

The sun was nearing the horizon when they climbed into the jeep and drove away from the village for the last time. It was nearly five minutes before either of them spoke, and it was Jess who said, "I just wish we could tell your father and your sister."

"You can try talking to dad. He'd have to know that there's no way you'd make up a crazy story like this."

"I'd try, I honestly would, but I didn't want to be the only one who could have sex with someone else so yesterday I asked him if we could basically have an open marriage until he got home. He didn't like it, but he agreed."

"Yeesh, I get it. If you come up today and tell him that we're under a magical compulsion to have sex with each other, then he'll think that the whole thing was a charade to get him to agree to you and me boning."

"Exactly. He'd never believe the magic part because it's insane. I just...I just can't bear how he'd look at me if he thought that."

"I understand. But Kim comes home at least twice a month to do laundry and beg for money, and if there's something between us, she will figure it out. She's irritating as hell, but she's not stupid."

"Yeah. I'll need to figure out how to break the news to her as soon as we're home."

Pause, then, "The first person who comes up to me and tells me to knock you up is gonna get a beatdown."

"Can you believe that fucking bullshit?" Jess asked, despite almost never using language like that except about sex. "They didn't just fuck us up, they fucked up a major metropolitan area. If they had that much power, they should have used it to, I dunno, end climate change or something. What a bunch of idiots."

"And that's why I think that they might have just been talking out their asses and we could be fine as soon as we put an ocean between us and them. Maybe all this will come to nothing."

"I hope you're right."

Neither of them thought he was right.

They were quiet again and said nothing until they were on the coastal plain, the sun was down, and the headlights were on. When they did speak it was about how nice it would be to get home and get back into the swing of things, what he still needed for school, how she might wear clothes that were a little more fashionable now that she was fitter and could apparently stand some sun, and how she'd have to dye her hair brown as soon as she could. Neither thought of sexing the other up. For this moment, they were normal.

The beach party was just getting into full swing when they arrived at the hotel, with Jess returning the jeep as Ryan made his way to the festivities. He was looking for Lexy but she spotted him first, calling his name as she came trotting over. "You're back early!"

Looking at her face gave him the exact reaction that he'd been hoping for: a pang of loss that what they had for the past month was over. He had barely felt it at all the day before when they'd said their goodbyes, but it was much sharper today; it wasn't like he was going to burst into tears, but rather it was an acute sense of nostalgia for something and someone who wasn't even gone yet. It was a strange thing that sadness brought him joy, but it did because it meant that his emotions were normal, at least for the moment.

There would be no sex between them tonight - they had had their goodbye fuck and neither of them wanted to disturb the status quo. Instead they danced, laughed, talked, and drank, and promised each other again that they would keep in touch.

He jerked off a couple of times before bed.

His father Paul was under no such sex ban, and he headed for the hotel to find his wife. They spotted each other as she stepped from the lobby to go look for him. He called, "Hey babe, how did it -"

She was on him before he finished the sentence, almost knocking him over as she leaped to wrap arms and legs around his body and kiss him as hard as she could. He held her up with his hands under her ass for a while, until she broke the kiss to whisper, "Take me upstairs and fuck me like it's the last time you'll see me until Christmas."

He did, and she cried with joy at the first orgasm he gave her because all that had been in her mind was her husband.

Day Eleven And A Few More

Jess and Ryan both watched out the window as their plane climbed away from the island. Already they could see the whole place in a panorama and it was dwindling in the distance. Then the plane banked and they could no longer see it at all. Before long they were at 24,000 feet, heading for Brisbane.

Jess' goodbye to her husband had been painful. Paul, of course, thought her clinging and tears were simply because she would miss him. How could he know that she was in mourning for them?

When Ryan said goodbye, he shook his father's hand and hugged him. He loved his old man, respected him, thought the world of him, and there was a good chance he would betray him in the most fundamental way before the next time they saw each other again. The last thing his father told him was that he was the man of the house until his father got back for Christmas and to take care of his mother.

The plane was a 20-seat jet that could have carried twice as many people if much of the passenger cabin hadn't been replaced with fuel tanks to enable long flights over the Pacific. There were two seats on the left side of the plane and one on the right, so Jess and Ryan each had window seats on the left side. Kim was supposed to be in the seat next to Jess but, since the plane was barely half full, as soon as they could move around she adjourned herself to an empty seat on the other side of the aircraft, put on her headphones, and promptly fell asleep. There was only a single flight attendant aboard, a Polynesian PYT with curly black hair that fell halfway to a perfectly-shaped pair of buttocks. She checked the passengers for their needs (Jess got a blanket and pillow, Ryan got a pillow and a bottle of water). Seven hours to Australia.

There are few things duller than being a passenger in an airplane flying over open water, so within an hour Ryan had moved up to sit next to his mother. They played a game together on his phone, chatted about very normal things, shared a few jokes. Some of the jokes were off-color, and they each told some that were positively raunchy; this was something they would never have conceived of doing before all this happened, but now it seemed the most natural thing in the world. So natural did it seem to talk sex, in fact, that when the flight attendant made her way past them toward the front of the plane, Jess elbowed her son in the side and said with a conspiratorial grin, "Look at that ass. I bet you'd love to hit that."
"Ugh, why did you have to say that?" he moaned playfully. "I'm already so horny I'm about to explode, and now I'll be thinking about her bouncing on my dick."

Jess giggled. "Be nice to her and maybe she'll take you into the bathroom and make you a member of the club."

They went back to their game, and it was only five minutes later when Ryan gave his mother a puzzled look and said, "It's weird that that conversation didn't feel awkward."

It took Jess a while to even recall what she now considered a banal bit of conversation, but when she did, her eyes widened. "I think...I think some goalposts have been moved in what we should and shouldn't do. I'm not attracted to you anymore, but I'm pretty sure I could talk to you about anything, especially anything sexual, and not feel ashamed at all, just like an old married couple," Jess mused. "And no, I don't want to screw you, but I don't mind telling you that I'm just as horny as you are. I wonder if masturbating on a plane makes you a club member?"

"I think you're going to find out before we land in Brisbane," he chuckled.

"Yeah. You want to go first or should I?"

"You go, I can hold it for a bit."

The mother used the bathroom to get herself off, and when she came back, the son took his turn. They asked each other how it went and it didn't seem strange at all to describe to each other the very satisfying orgasms they had. They each did it once more before the flight was over, and they were both ragingly horny again before they deplaned at BNE.

Kim and Ryan went straight for a restaurant and paid way too much for some OK food; at least money wasn't a problem, seeing as how Paul's employers were paying for the trip. Jess, however, had another thing in mind: she found the pharmacy in the airport and made her purchases before going to the women's room. The pregnancy test came back negative, and she'd have been astonished if it hadn't because it was much too early for a positive result if Ryan's dream-cum had made her real-pregnant; still, astonishment at the impossible had become a daily condition for her, so it was a relief anyhow. She took the Plan B, knowing that it might be too late if her dream sex had led to really being knocked up, masturbated, and then went to find her kids.

The flight from Brisbane to Los Angeles was 13-1/2 hours, which is a long time even in First Class on a nice plane like the Airbus they were on. They were seated all in the same row, with Kim at a window seat in the left column and Ryan and Jess side-by-side in the two seats in the middle column. Both of them masturbated as soon as they could get into the bathrooms, then settled in for a long haul with blankets and pillows.

Three hours later they were far over the ocean. It was night by this point, and Ryan and almost everyone else in the section had drifted off to sleep. Jess, for her part, had gotten a bushwhacker cocktail and was watching a mystery with headphones on. She was tired but not sleepy and she hoped the movie would knock her out; unfortunately, it was extremely interesting and she was more awake than she had been when she'd started it.

That was when Ryan nudged her arm and asked, "What are you watching?"

"Oh! I thought you were asleep."

"Yeah, I woke up, my hard-on got uncomfortable and I had to adjust it."

She nodded; she was wet enough that she was pretty sure she'd have soaked through her dress and half the seat cushion by the time they made LAX. "I guess you should go take care of that."

"Yeah," he nodded...and then his lips curled into the devilish smile that she had come to know all too well over the past week and a half. "Or, you know, you could take care of it."

"Sweetie," she sighed. "You know we can't do that. And anyway, I don't want to. You're my son."

"It wouldn't be the first time," he whispered. "I could barely pry your hand off of it at the village."

"That was before they helped us."

He was quiet for a moment before leaning in close enough that she could feel his breath in her ear as he whispered, "I know you liked how it felt. Didn't you?"

"Sweetie, this isn't fair and it isn't right. Stop it."

"Answer the question."

She sighed. "You know I loved how it felt, babe."

Again the wicked smile. "You loved how what felt?"

"Ryan..."

"Say it."

His tone of command made her shiver in spite of herself, and she couldn't stop herself from answering, "I loved how your big, hard cock felt in my hand. There, are you happy?"

"You can feel it again if you want, it's right here."

She gave an exasperated sigh. "You're having one of those breakthroughs they told us about."

"Maybe. Or maybe I've been continuously horny for two days and I'm tired of jerking it myself, and you're the only one on this plane that I can ask."

"Well please don't. It's not right."

"I'm not asking you to ride it. I'm not asking to take you into the bathroom and bend you over. I'm not even asking you to suck it. Just use your hand."

She closed her eyes. It really had felt wonderful in her hand... No! What the hell am I thinking? "Babe, you need to go to the bathroom and take care of it. On your own."

"Come on," he whispered, nibbling on her ear and sending shockwaves down her body and straight into her pussy. "I know you want to know how it feels to make me come for real."

He was acting this way because of the blessing, he had to be, but damn it if her resolve wasn't starting to weaken. He had felt amazing in her hand, and he wasn't asking to pump a load into her - not even her butt, which was a lot safer than in her pussy. It was masturbation, just hands and just him getting off, not her. How damaging could that be? They'd be making babies eventually, so was this really that big a deal?

It needed to be a huge deal, but somehow it didn't feel like that when he used that commanding tone on her. She had already been horny, but that voice was edging her toward a bad decision that she knew they'd both regret when the spell passed. In a tone that sounded unconvincing even to her, she whispered, "We'll be caught..."

"We're the only two awake in this whole section," he countered, "and the FA just did her round, she won't be back for half an hour."

"I guess it wouldn't take you that long..." she whispered, chewing her lower lip.

"Not at all," he assured her, taking her hand. She let him guide it under the blanket and to his lap, where she found his cock already out of his pants and waiting for her touch. She tried to stop herself, but in just a few seconds she had wrapped her hand around it and started to stroke it up and down from base to crown. Her heart was hammering - this wasn't a vision or a dream, it was real, and she was about to make her beautiful son come for the first time.

"Lick your hand," he ordered her, and without hesitation she pulled her hand up to her mouth and gave a long, thorough lick from the palm to the ends of her fingers - knowing that just moments before that palm had been in contact with Ryan's cock was thrilling and made her rub her thighs together. She made to put her hand back into his lap when he said, "You want to see it, don't you? You want to watch as you make me come all over your hand."

She looked at him with wide eyes and said nothing, but her fervent nod told him everything he needed to know. Without hesitation he pushed his blanket to the floor and she saw his erection, throbbing and almost purple with need for her. She stifled a little cry and put her hand back where it belonged, around her man's cock. Stroking, now faster, her other hand pinching her nipple through her clothes, wishing that shaft was buried in her to the balls but loving the hushed gasps she was pulling from his lips. Faster and faster her hand went, her breath getting more and more ragged as she brought her son and lover closer.

"Mom...Seetsahm...I'm gonna...I'm..."

And then he was, in proud spurts that leaped out up to her eye height and came back down all over her hand and his thighs and his shirt. There was so much of it! So many squirts, such volume, such a mess.

Well, she was gonna have to clean that up then. Eyes locked on his, she raised her hand to her lips to taste her love's nectar, extending her tongue to take in the first drops -

And then he was next to her so soundly asleep that a stream of drool was coming from his slack lips, blanket still covering him to his chest. She gasped, looked around startled, astonished that it had all been a vision...except that her hand was covered in his seed. She stared at it in amazement, ran her tongue across her lips, knew she should reach for a napkin...

And then she was licking it from her skin. How could she resist the greatest thing she had ever tasted in her life - well, the second greatest, after their juices when they mixed together in her cunt. It was just as perfect and delicious as she remembered it being, and even though she knew that she needed to wipe it off, she didn't stop licking until her hand was clean.

So. That was a one of those breakthroughs they'd been warned about. Good to know.

Back in Milwaukee, they dragged their exhausted butts to bed and enjoyed a night's sleep in familiar surroundings. The next day a little after noon, Jess knocked on Kim's door and was told she could come in. Her daughter was sitting on the bed, and she pressed the door closed and sat next to her.

"Do you have a few minutes? There's something I need to tell you. It's...very important."

It was her mother's tone rather than her words that perked Kim up. "Umm...sure. Are you OK?"

"Well...no, not exactly. Listen, I'm about to tell you something and you're not going to believe it, but every word of it is true. I hope you can see that."

"Uhhh...OK..."

"You remember that the little village did a ceremony of thanks for your brother and me, right?"

"Yeah, you talked all about that."

"Well, no, not all about it." Jess told her daughter about the real nature of the ceremony, about what had happened during their last week and a half on the island, the dreams, the visions, even some of their actions with each other. Kim didn't believe a word of it until Jess showed her all the physical changes that had been happening to her; Kim still insisted that it couldn't be magic, but the fact that she couldn't explain how her aging mother suddenly had a better, younger body than she herself did shook her conviction. Jess went on to describe the events at the last ceremony, finishing up with, "So, six months to a year-and-a-half. That's how much time we seem to have before your brother and I are together for good and start making you lots of siblings."

"That's insane," Kim said, shaking her head. "This whole thing is insane. Are you...are you serious about this? You're not fucking with me?"

"You've asked that like eight times, honey. It's the absolute truth."

"I'm really having a hard time believing this, but I can't figure out why you'd tell this lie either. And all these physical changes - is Ryan changing too?"

"He looks at least five years older and his penis has grown a lot."

"Yuck, I don't even want to think about him having a penis. And dad doesn't know any of this?"

"No, like I said."

"Shit. So...fuck. God damn it. What do you want from me?"

"We don't want anything from you that you aren't willing to give. We hope you can still love us when we're finally together."

"I don't love the troll now, how can I love him when he's banging our mother?"

"Of course you love him, he's your brother."

"Ugh, fine, he's alright. But how are you going to live as a couple when you're not getting older and you keep getting knocked up by your son? Everybody's gonna be screaming for you to be put in jail or a research lab."

"Yeah, about that..."

An hour later, as Ryan stepped in the door, covered with sweat from a game of football with some friends, Kim met him in the foyer with her hands on her hips and a belligerent, "Is it true? What mom said?"

"Well I don't know exactly what she said, but yeah, every word of it. Fucked up, isn't it?"

"Oh, ya think? I don't know what to believe."

"If she keeps changing into Seetsahm, you'll have to believe your own eyes."

"She showed me the changes she'd gone through already and I still don't believe it, but I can't explain it either. Magic?"

He shrugged. "We laughed too until we realized we were having the same dreams. It's not what either of us want. We're fighting against it. But if what they told us is right, we'll lose that fight."

"Dad's going to find out. What's your plan for that?"

"Don't have one. By then mom will probably have changed so much that he won't be able to deny something unexplainable is going on. He'll still probably never talk to either of us again."

Kim sighed, her expression softening. "You and him have always been so close, too."

"Yeah, it fucking sucks."

She nodded. "I don't know what's really going on, but you know I come home one or two weekends a month. I'd prefer if you two didn't do stuff when I'm in the house."

"I'd prefer that we didn't do stuff at all. We'll do our best. When the spell is on us though, we aren't in control, so no promises."

Kim frowned and slowly shook her head. "I'm sorry all this is happening...whatever this is. It's hard to get my head around."

"For us too, most of the time. When we're in it, it seems like the most natural thing in the world."

"Mom said the...spell, whatever, will make you happy and rich and beloved. She said you'll live to be two hundred years old and have like a hundred kids. Do you believe that?"

"It's...it's not whether we believe it or not. When we're in it, we know it's true. There's not even a question."

"But now that you're not in it?"

"Now...now I hope that those old men were wrong about everything and that being on the other side of the world will break the spell. But I'm pretty sure they did exactly what they said they did. I've never been so scared of living a long and happy life."

Jess awoke the next morning after a night of thoroughly normal dreams, scratched her butt as she stumbled into the bathroom to pee, and saw that her hair was now thick, rich and lustrously brown with perfect natural waves. She stared at her reflection for a long time, then shook her head and took a piss. It was just one step closer to being Seetsahm.

Ryan was not surprised, but Kim was staggered and spent the rest of the day in thoughtful near-silence. One thing both kids agreed on was that the new hair suited their mother perfectly.

The next morning, a Sunday, Kim left to go back to college. On paper she was double majoring in psychology and art with the goal of becoming an art therapist, but she'd chosen UW-Madison because it was the top party school in the state. Two days later, on the day after Labor Day, Ryan would return to school and Jess would return to work.

A little after lunch, Ryan walked into his mother's room without even thinking about knocking to find her looking into her closet while dressed in nothing but panties. The only odd things about it were that neither found it odd that he should do so, and neither found it odd that she made no move to cover up. Just like an old married couple. He asked what she was up to, adding, "If we're going to go shopping, then we need to get out there. The stores are always packed today."

"I know. I was just looking at my wardrobe, all those floppy dresses and clothes designed to cover me up. I sort of feel like I should dress a little bit more fashionably now. What do you think?"

Ryan flopped down on her bed in the same childish way he'd had since he was little and propped himself up on his elbow to look at her. "Yeah, why not? I mean everything you have was bought for a pale-ass redhead, and you aren't that anymore. You need to get into some stuff that will fit your new coloration."

She laughed. "What do you know about complexion and women's clothes?"

"Hey, I'm an expert. I hear girls in school talk about it all the time."

She snorted. "Sure, you've learned everything there is to know. But you're right, I do need a lot of new clothes. I'll pick up a few outfits today."

"What about your underwear?"

Jess looked down at her panties, then back up. "What about them?"

"You're wearing old-lady underwear, but you've got a body a 23-year-old Insta model would hate you for. You can't go walking around in granny panties."

"Huh. Maybe you're right. Nothing I have fits right anymore anyway. It's been a long time since I bought sexy underwear though. And you think my ass would look good in something that covers less?"

"I think it's a crime to put that ass in anything less revealing than a thong." He had no sexual feelings when he said it, it was just a simple observation.

"Thank you. I guess you're right, I'll shop for new undies too. Hey, have you jerked off recently? I don't want to have to wait while you hunt up a bathroom at the stores."

"Yeah, right before I came in."

"You're still hard."

"It barely goes down anymore."

"I've noticed. I need to get off before we leave," she said, reaching into her bedside table and producing a purple dildo that closely mimicked Ryan's dimensions (something that neither one noticed). "Can I get some privacy?"

"Oh, sure thing," he said, as though his nearly-naked mother asking him to leave the room so she could fuck herself with a fake cock was the most normal and non-sexual thing in the world. Sliding off the bed and heading for the door, he said, "Don't take too long."

Jess couldn't help but grin as he walked out. He was using that commanding tone more and more these days. When he got back to school, the girls were gonna be all over him.

The first Monday in September, Labor Day, was warm and clear. Mother and son were in the car, heading north to the town of Grafton on invitation from Sue Lamb, a friend Jess had had since college. Sue had recently finished with an ugly divorce, wound up with the house on the Milwaukee River ("house" may have been too modest a word for a 28-room mansion mansion on 26 acres of wooded riverfront, but that was what they were going with) where Sue was throwing a goodbye-to-summer bash for all her friends.

It was Jess' car, but Ryan was driving. He had announced it and taken the keys from her hands, and it never even occurred to her to question it. She had cheerfully climbed into shotgun, enjoyed a perfectly nonsexual moment of admiration of the powerful man her son was becoming, and settled in for the short jaunt north. They hadn't even reached I-42 when flashing lights behind them signaled them to stop.

"Did you do something?" Jess asked.

"I don't think so. I mean I was going a couple miles over the speed limit, but a cop won't stop you for that."

"Unless they're an asshole."

There was that, and asshole cops were even more of a pain to deal with than other assholes. They didn't have to wait long to find out though, as the cop got out only a couple of minutes after they pulled over and approached the car. He was a big fellow with a very broad chest that was made even bigger by his protective vest, but he was polite enough when he asked them for their license and proof of insurance. He didn't go back to his car to run them, instead just giving them a brief once-over before handing them back. "You folks know why I pulled you over?"

"No, officer," Ryan said, which was always the correct answer.

"You got a taillight out. Now I'm not issuing a fine today, but - " There followed a coply lecture of four minutes length about the importance of keeping all their lights in working order, which both of them thanked the nice officer for. Before the officer turned away, he asked Ryan, "Is this your mom?"

"Yes, officer."

The cop smiled warmly. "Congratulations, you two make a beautiful couple. It's great that you got together. Have a good day now, and drive safe."
Ryan and Jess just stared at each other as the officer went back to his car and drove away. It was Ryan who finally said, "Well, hell."

The party was fun, but more for Ryan than for Jess. He hung out with the husbands, but since they were mostly talking about the Packers and the Bucks he felt right at home. The eye candy was good too, because the ladies there were the sorts of middle-aged women who cared about their looks and kept them up - it was cougars and MILFs from here to the river's edge. Most of them had had at least some cosmetic surgery, whether to enhance what nature had given them or to preserve what time was taking away, and all of them were dressed casually and just sexy enough to show off a little in front of their friends and their friends' husbands.

His mom was the sexiest woman there without even trying.

And that was was why she wasn't having as good a time as he was. Her friends harangued her for her beauty secrets even worse than the Frauen-Trinkclub had. It was flattering and fun at first, but these bitches were relentless - possibly because every couple of minutes she found one of more of their husbands mentally undressing her from across the yard. The women knew that too, and behaved in a jealous sort of way that she'd never experienced from them before. Well, what did I expect? I'd have been acting the same way if one of my 44-year-old friends showed up looking 22, especially if Paul were here to drool over her.

During the six hours they were there, Ryan slipped off to masturbate three times and Jess managed two. At the end, as Ryan was driving them home in the gathering darkness, Jess could only wonder how the people at work would react when they saw her tomorrow.

The First Day Back

Ryan rolled up to his high school with half an hour to spare and parked in the student lot. He always liked to arrive early on the first day back, not to learn his way around (this was his fourth year at the school, he already knew every nook and cranny) but because he liked to say hello to people he hadn't seen all summer and absorb the school vibe after time away.

High school was a big pile of bullshit, of course, but he enjoyed learning and liked a lot of his classmates. Being the school's star swimmer, he had a foot in the jock clique, but he liked his studies and was smart enough that half his classes were advanced placement, so a lot of the brains liked him too. Social groups you weren't in could get pretty bitchy at this school, but he had always been able to give as good as he got and most people who didn't like him just left him alone rather than taunting him.

He made it halfway to the door before a call from behind brought him to a stop. He recognized the voice yelling his name, so when he turned he had an enormous smile on his face. "Mycah! Good to see you, man. How was basketball camp?"

Mycah Pryor approached with a smile and wrapped his boy in a hug. Mycah and Ryan had been best friends since second grade. A senior like Ryan, he was almost 6' 7" tall, one of the best if not the best high school baller in the Milwaukee area, and he had an easy charm that meant he wore girls like clothes. He had spent the past three weeks at a development camp sponsored by the NBA and run by Milwaukee Bucks and Chicago Bulls players. "Fuckin' great, Giannis came a few times."

"No shit? Wow, I expect to hear all about it. I saw tons of pics on your socials but I need deets. How's home life?"

Mycah snorted. "Amber is being a cunt, so, you know, same as always,"

Mycah's family life had never been easy. His birth mother, by all accounts a lovely woman, died in a boating accident when he was three, and his father had sought to replace her; unfortunately, his father's taste in women was in his ass, and so the succession of girlfriends and wives that he'd had since then had almost all been awful people. Amber, his father's third wife, was a mean, trashy bimbo who didn't like kids - especially Mycah - but was trying to get his dad to knock her up so she'd get more money in the inevitable divorce. Ryan could only nod sympathetically and say, "The most you'll need to put up with her is another nine-and-a-half months - if your dad hasn't kicked her to the curb by then, you can move the hell out."

"Heh, yeah. Hey man, you look different."

"I got a tropical tan that lightened my hair a little."

"Nah, it ain't that. You filled out a lot over the summer, like a lot a lot. Looks good on you, but it makes you look like 25."

"Ah, it ain't that big a deal. And anyway - "

"Excuse me," came a high-pitched voice. "Are you Ryan McCullen?"

Both young men looked down to see someone they didn't recognize, apparently a freshman boy who had acne and ugly shoes. "Uh, yeah?"

"I just wanted to say congratulations," the kid said cheerfully. "I hope you're both really happy."

"Uhhh...thanks..." Ryan said as the boy disappeared into the crowd.

"Dafuck was all that about?" Mycah asked.

"It's...it's hard to explain. I'll tell you soon. And is it my imagination or are they making freshman younger every year?"

"For real, dog. That kid looked 12."

Not long after that, Jess pulled into a parking spot at her office. She worked at Provider Services, which was basically a middleman that healthcare providers hired to handle insurance claims. Fortunately she rarely had to deal with insurance companies directly, as she was the executive in charge of business operations, with a staff of five and her own office.

She strolled into the small lobby, hoping to say hello to Ash, the receptionist; unfortunately, Ash was busy with a visitor, so Jess just waved and headed for the door to the back.

"Excuse me, Miss?" came Ash's voice. "That area is restricted. You have to sign in and be here to see someone in specific."

And so it began. Jess couldn't be surprised - in addition to the many physical changes, she was wearing a sleeveless white blouse with a significant plunge and a skirt that was tighter and shorter than anything she'd worn since before she got this job. She turned and headed back to the front, saying, "Ash, it's me, Jess."

Ash wrinkled her nose in the same sort of automatic irritation one got when told an obvious lie. She took a closer look, and irritation turned to amazement. "Jess? What the fu - heck?"

"A month away in a tropical paradise will do that for a person," Jess chuckled (that was the line she had decided to say to everyone when they inevitably gawped and demanded an explanation for how her changes had come to pass). "We'll catch up later."

She had to walk through the entire office to get to her area in the back corner. Some of the people she passed recognized her and said she looked amazing, while others looked at her without recognition, probably thinking her some fresh-out-of-college new hire. Against her own definite wishes, all the attention felt pretty good - she hadn't turned heads like this since she'd gotten pregnant with Kim.

The first thing she did, after saying hello to her shocked department, was to check in with her boss. Nolan Garvey was in his mid-50s, still fit and energetic, with the dignity that some men accrue as they age; he was also a sweet man who was married to the same woman he wedded in college, had three adult kids who adored him, and he genuinely cared for the welfare of those who worked for him. He looked up as she entered his office, recognition coming after a few seconds of staring. "Jess! Hot damn, I didn't know you for a sec. Come on in, sit down, tell me about your vacation."

Jess did, mentioning when she and Ryan saved the boy (she made it sound like it had all been Ryan) but obviously leaving out any of the magical, sexy details, finishing with, "And look, I even got a tan. Maybe I'll hit some tanning places here to work on it over the winter."

"It sounds like you had a great time," he told her. "And it's good to have you back, it doesn't seem like home when you aren't around."

"Thanks!" she said, rising from her chair. "I'd better get to my desk and start digging out from under. I just wanted to say hi."

She made it to the door before Nolan called her name. "Oh, one more thing," he told her in a tone of gentle reassurance. "I know you're going to need a lot of maternity leave with all the babies you and your son are going to be having, and you don't need to worry. Your job here is safe."

Her smile froze on her face and she felt the same chill run down her spine. It took her a moment before she offered a wooden, "Thanks, Nolan."

The day was going unevenly for Ryan. On the one hand it was great to see friends and so far his classes seemed good; on the other hand, before and during lunch, eight people came up to congratulate him. He only knew three of them, and only one - a cheerful, nerdy girl named Pam Provenza - was someone he considered a friend, but it was still an upsetting process. This was especially true because he didn't know how many other shoes were waiting to drop, which was very anxiety-producing.

On the way to his class after lunch finished, his phone buzzed with a message from Mycah:

wtf bro wht levi white said 2 me

what



he come up & asked if i was happy 4 u

i asked y

he said u & u mom r a couple

o 4 fuck sake



people been hitting me with it all day



ill explain after school



aint true tho rite

ill explain after school



wtf

Ryan sighed as he put away his phone. Mycah was his best friend and a constant guest at their home, so he'd have to be told sooner or later; Ryan had been hoping for later, but shit was what shit was.

His next class was math, not one of his best subjects. The teacher was Ms. Hegel, who was in her mid-30s and as smoking hot as as a teacher in a porn video. Unfortunately, Ryan had had her in both 9th and 10th grades, done poorly, and had somehow gotten on her bad side. This was gonna suck.

The class went as badly as he expected, which worried him. He wanted to go to a good university and he had the extracurriculars and grades for it in everything except math. He was going to need to ace this class, but the initial indicators were poor. He barely knew what the teacher was talking about, and it was only the first day!

When the bell rang, he got up and headed by the door, but was stopped by a call of, "Ryan, please stay behind. I'd like to speak with you for a bit."

Ryan sighed, swallowed hard, and turned back to approach Ms. Hegel's desk. He was pretty sure he was about to get a menacing comment about him being a bad student. "Yes?"

Ms. Hegel's eyes lit up as she leaned forward. "It's great news about you and your mom. I'm happy for you both. And between you and me, it's hot as fuck. I've always had an incest kink. I hope you get her pregnant soon, I'd love to see her with a big belly from the baby you gave her."

Ryan's shoulders slumped, and he was prepared to thank her dully and hurry out, but something else occurred to him. "Miss Hegel, how did you hear about my mother and me?"

She looked blank. "What do you mean?"

"Well was it a rumor? Did someone come and tell you? Was it, like, on the news or something?"

"Well...no. I found out a couple of weeks ago and...funny, I don't remember how I heard it. I suppose someone must have told me about it. Anyway, it's wonderful news and I'm super happy for you both."

He thanked her and headed for the door.

His last class was Financial Competency, and afterwards he met Mycah at the same door they'd come in that morning. Before he could say anything, Mycah said, "I think Imma need an explanation of this shit."

"Yeah, and you'll need to be sitting down for it," Ryan nodded. "Follow me to my house?"

Mycah agreed, and 45 minutes later he leaned back on the sofa and said, "Bro, that is by far the most fucked up shit I have ever heard in my life. I'd be absolutely sure you were lying to me except for three people I know you don't know talking to me about it today."

Ryan nodded. "My phone's been blowing up. Like half the school either wants to tell me that people are talking shit about me or wants to know if it's true."

"Fuuuuck. I mean...you know I trust you and this ain't the kind of joke you'd play on me, but..."

"But it's still impossible to believe."

"Yeah. Maybe you should go see an exorcist. You guys are Catholic, right?"

"My mom is, kinda. I just go for weddings and funerals. And as crazy as that idea is, it might be worth a try."

"But if the whole city is really under a spell..."

"Then that's a hell of a lot of exorcisms," Ryan nodded. "And I don't believe it's a demon inside us. I don't even believe in demons."

"Three weeks ago you didn't believe in magic either."

"I concede the point. I'll talk to mom about it. Want to stay for dinner?"

"Yeah, I kinda need to see these changes in Mrs. M for myself. Maybe I'll believe it then."

Ryan dialed his mother's cell. After a moment she picked up with a, "Hi, sweetie. What's up?"

"Oh, well, everybody in school has heard about us now. There are some people who are really happy about us."

"As far as I can tell, it's only one person in my office. Unfortunately, that one is my boss."

"Awkward."

"Yeah. Did you just call to check in?"

"No. Mike's here. People were coming up to him all day talking about us. I had to explain it to him."

"Oh." Pause. "I wish you would have asked me first, but he was going to see something for himself eventually. What's his reaction?"

"Skepticism. He wants to see you, though, probably ask you some questions. I was gonna invite him for dinner."

"I'll pick up Chinese."

Ryan moved his phone away from his mouth and said, "Mom's picking up Canton Palace if you want to eat here."

Canton Palace was Mycah's favorite thing ever, so he agreed enthusiastically. A couple of minutes later, the two boys were in Ryan's room playing X-Box. A couple of hours after than, when they heard Jess enter the kitchen from the garage, they made a dash for her. They found her setting out a lot of Chinese food; 18-year-old boys ate a metric shit-ton. "Hi Ryan. Hi Mycah."

"Holy shit...oh, sorry Mrs. M, I didn't mean to swear. It's just..."

"It's just I look different," she nodded with a chuckle. "Everyone at work thinks I took the last month to have a bunch of plastic surgeries."

"Ah, that's bullsh...um, plastic surgery wouldn't look that good," Mycah said. "You're like a whole different person."

"Not as different as I will be," she said resignedly. "I assume Ryan told you what's going to happen?"

"Yeah, like really completely different, different name, shorter, all that? I didn't believe it until I saw you."

Jess nodded, chose her words carefully, and said, "And I guess he told you what else is going to happen?"

Mycah blushed and looked as uncomfortable as she had ever seen him. "Ummm...yeah...I guess. Like you two..."

"Becoming the perfect couple, having lots of kids, getting rich, living for a long time?" she asked. "Yes, all that is true as well."

Ryan spoke up. "Mycah had an idea that we ought to see an exorcist."

Jess only thought about that for a moment before saying, "I know in my bones that won't help. Do you think it will?"

"No," Ryan admitted. "But it's something we should try out anyway. It can't hurt."

"Well, I mean, like...I was watching this thing on YouTube that said exorcists injure and even kill people that they're working on," Mycah admitted. "So like, maybe it could hurt."

"Oh. Well...crap."

Jess nodded. "You boys set the table and get the food over there. I'll go change and then join you."

The Next Couple of Weeks

Jess didn't have a bad time at work, all things considered. Nolan was used to keeping employee information on the down-low, so it was only awkward in their brief daily meetings. When it was just them by themselves, he asked her what baby names they were thinking of, whether she wanted the first to be a boy or a girl, how many they wanted, that sort of thing. Some days it was hard to get him to focus on work. Other than that, the only minor irritant was that a number of middle-aged women (and a number of middle-aged men with middle-aged wives) kept pestering her for where she went for her surgeries and how much they cost; after a week of consistent denials, though, she got the sense that they were just doing it to tease her because they thought she wanted it kept a secret.

The one ray of sunshine was that her job made it easy for her to sneak off and rub one out, and between work and home she was making herself come eight or nine times a day. All those orgasms kept her pretty chipper, and not one of them was attained by thinking about her son.

On very much the other hand, Ryan was miserable. In total, twenty-three people there had fallen victim to the magic, including his math teacher, one of the assistant principals, and the girl's volleyball coach. The adults at least kept their comments to him to one-on-one situations; the kids, though, seemed to have no sense of tact so he ended up issuing two dozen angry denials a day, sometimes two or three times to the same insistent well-wisher. Added to that was that it was much harder for him to get some privacy to jerk off - if he was lucky he managed it once during a school day, so he was always walking around with a severe erection that was usually very obvious.

It only got worse when, at the beginning of the second week of school, his car was in the shop so his mom had to drop him off: someone got video of them together and now the whole school had seen it. It wasn't as though the video showed them acting inappropriately, but it was generally agreed that Jess looked far more like his extremely hot girlfriend than his mom.

It wasn't just the kids under the spell that were problems. Every day he heard snickers and derogatory comments as he walked down the hall. Sometimes boys said things like, "If my mom looked like that, I'd fuck her too," and sometimes girls said things like, "Ryan's so cute. I wish I was his mom so he'd date me." Always when he looked at the source of these comments, he saw people trying to hide their smirks so they could look innocent.

By far the worst person about the whole thing was Jade Oleson, whom he had dated for 18 months until shortly before he'd gone to Ranu Ratu. She went around making loud accusations that he had dumped her because he was fucking his mother until he tracked her down and announced just as loudly to her face that he had actually dumped her because he'd walked in on her fucking her mom's boyfriend. That shut down the worst of it, but she still spread rumors about Jess already being pregnant, about Jess and Paul divorcing, about Paul walking in on his son and his wife raw dogging, about the two of them spending time in jail on the island because of incest, and whatever else her jealous mind could think of.

The next Sunday, they visited her parents in their home in the fancy northern part of the city, almost in the suburbs. Their house was lovely - both her mother and father had been well-paid research scientists - she a biologist and he a chemist - and they had invested wisely. It was a nice visit largely absorbed with mother and son telling her parents edited versions of things that went on on the islands. Neither her mother or her father said anything, but both agreed that her dad had given them both some strange looks as the day wore on; neither one thought they had behaved in an inappropriate way toward each other during the visit, but it seemed as though something - or someone - had the old man suspicious.

On the Friday evening of the second week of school, Ryan and Jess were at home. Normally he would have been out with friends on a Friday night, but even his friends were being pains in the ass; they believed his denials, but they were shit-talking young people who couldn't resist teasing him, and tonight he just wasn't in the mood. The only one who never joined in the shit-giving was Mycah, but he was out tonight with his basketball friends, so Ryan was home with his mother. He was ignoring his phone, which was set to silent, and his mom was bustling around doing housework. He was on his own.
He tried surfing, usually a reliable way to murder some time, but he was feeling restless. He took a shower (after a month of cold showers on the island, hot water had become his second best friend) but that didn't settle him down. He needed a distraction. That was why had found his way to his bed and started thumbing through Amazon Prime for something to watch, trying several movies and shows before giving up, turning off the television, and staring at the ceiling. It was only then that he realized the source of his restlessness.

He was horny. And not just a little horny, but rampantly, ragingly hot. Ordinarily that was the sort of thing that an 18-year-old boy would notice very quickly, but somehow this time it snuck up on him; once he realized it, though, he could think about nothing else. In seconds he had pulled off his jeans and underwear and kicked them to the floor. His cock was as hard as he had ever seen it.

He fished some lube out of his bedside table, and very shortly he was giving himself long, languid strokes while trying to figure out just what he was horny for. Hot girls in his class? Usually that was it, but tonight it left him cold. MILFS, lesbians, gangbangs, trans? No, none of those. The thought of guys even crossed his mind on the off chance that he was as bi as his mom was, but that didn't move the needle a bit.

Mom. Of course, it had to be his Seetsahm. No one else could make his cock this hard. This was the first time he had thought of her sexually since the ceremony, and he had to wonder why he hadn't been thinking of her all along - he jerked off multiple times a day, so why wouldn't jerk off to the perfect woman? He closed his eyes, visualizing the way she would smile when she spread her legs and told him that she needed him inside of her, or the way her breasts would bounce as he fucked her, or how he knew she would get pregnant the moment he came in her for the first time. If she were here right now I'd fill her up so good...

And then, suddenly, there she was in the doorway with a double armful of his clean laundry. Before, Jess always would have knocked before entering her son's room; now, she'd just twisted the handle and bumped it open with her hip - and stopped the moment she saw what he was doing. Without wishing for it her pussy gave a sharp twinge and her nipples got even harder than they always were these days. It wasn't that she felt attraction to her son (well...OK, at that instant she felt more than a little attracted to her son) but she loved watching men masturbate - she and Paul used to masturbate for each other all the time. Even apart from Ryan being the man she would inevitably end up with, he had the most perfect body and the most perfect cock in the world, and for the moment all he could see was a big, manly fist going up and down a big, manly cock. She gasped aloud.

Ryan's eyes popped open at the sound, and he smiled hugely when he saw she was looking at him. "Just who I was thinking of," he said, adjusting a bit so his mother could get a better view as he continued to jerk off. "I was hoping you'd join me."

"I'm not joining you, I'm just dropping off some clothes." She should have turned and left the room. The Jess who'd gone to the island certainly would have, but that Jess was gone. Her logical mind tried to force her out, but emotionally she felt no reason to interrupt her errands just because her son was doing something that they each knew the other was doing multiple times per day.

Besides, carrying on normally while her son was jerking off to her a few feet away was pretty hot. I wonder if this is real or a vision? I can never tell until afterward. Maybe I'm having another breakthrough like on the plane...

She walked to his dresser, opened the top drawer, and began putting his socks away, knowing that his eyes were on her every step of the way. She was wearing a tee shirt and a pair of jeans, but both were tighter than anything he had ever seen her wear before the blessing - that didn't seem to matter because casual nudity had become so commonplace that she actually felt covered up. Those other times, though, were when the magic was preventing either of them from getting horny for each other; now her son was stroking to her a few feet away and she was getting hotter for him by the second; it was getting very hard to think straight. This was a very dangerous situation and she really needed to drop his clothes off and leave...and instead she opened the second drawer, bent over so that he had a fantastic view of her butt, and slowly put away his underwear.

"Your ass is amazing, Seetsahm," he told her in a playful growl. "Bring it over here and let's do what we've always been meant to do."

She turned slowly so her back was to the dresser and leaned against it. "I don't think that's such a good idea, babe."

He grinned at the facts that she couldn't take her eyes off of his cock and that her arousal was obvious. "But you want to, don't you?"

"Of course I do." This had to be a vision, so she could admit that without danger.

"Then why are you fighting it? Get over here, get out of your clothes, and take my cock inside of you where it belongs."

"That's...that's the magic talking." Vision or not, she had a feeling that she really shouldn't indulge with her son if she wanted to stay strong in real life. "When it passes, you'll be glad I didn't."

"Unless you do it."

"I'm not going to." She still didn't budge or take her eyes off of the way he was fisting his shaft.

"You know we can do anal, right? They said we could. Wouldn't you like to feel my cock splitting your tight little ass open?"

She visibly shuddered, and if her nipples had been hard before, they were like diamonds now. She shifted back and forth a bit, and she knew that he was fully aware that she was getting some friction on her wet pussy. "I'd love that," she admitted. "And I'm still not going to do it."

"Then use your mouth," he commanded her. "Take it right down your throat like I know you can. You know exactly how much you love the taste, so come and get it for real."

God he's so hard to resist when he talks that way. Do I even want to resist him? It would be so much easier just to give in. There's no way we can stand this much longer without doing something. Paul deserves better, though. Paul deserves all the fight we can give.

But there's no way I'm walking out of this room without doing something. And anyway, most of this is probably a shared vision so it's not that big a deal.

"Well?" he asked, a smile curling his lip as he watched her struggle I need and I can't.

Jess knew that he was on the verge of giving her an order she might not be able to resist...unless she headed him off by letting them both get the relief they needed without physical contact. Even in a vision, that was the safest way. She straightened, turned to face him, and pulled her tee shirt over her head and off. "I'm not going to touch you, babe," she said in a throaty tone, "but I am going to watch you get yourself off...and you're going to watch me get myself off."

His grin said everything that needed to be said. He tucked his free hand behind his head to adjust his pillow and make it easier for him to watch her. Her bra hit the floor and she paused to give her big, full, buoyant tits a squeeze; her formerly-pink nipples, he saw, were getting darker to match her changing skin tone, something he loved.

She undid her jeans and pulled them down, turning halfway around and bending over to give him a perfect look at her big, firm ass coming into view. She couldn't help but thrill at the way his eyes blazed as he watched. She was wearing a thong (something she hadn't done since before Kim was born), and she jackknifed over to take the pants off her ankles, deliberately showing him that her panties were soaked through.

"Seetsahm," he breathed. "We'll have each other soon. There's no way either of us can resist this very long."

She stayed in her position and pulled her panties down, the saturated crotch clinging to her pussy until they were dragged away with shining strands of her arousal connecting her cunt to her underwear. Turning her back to the dresser, she pushed herself up so that she was sitting on it (incidentally knocking half a dozen items to the floor), put one foot up on the top of the dressed so that her son would get a vivid view of her touching herself for him, and began to let her fingers work.

Neither took their eyes off the other, and neither lasted long. In just a couple of minutes she was moaning her climax as thick ropes of cum exploded from him. It was a great orgasm, not as intense as the ones their dream-fucking had given her but still far beyond anything anyone else had made her feel. She half-closed her eyes, leaned her back against the wall, and waited for her breathing to return to normal and for this vision to end.

It was Ryan who snapped out of it first, his eyes suddenly widening as he yanked his sheets to cover his dick and his sperm-spattered torso. "Oh...oh shit..."

"What's the matter, babe?" she asked in a dreamy, afterglowing voice. "Did your Seetsahm make you come too hard?"

"Mom. Mom! This wasn't fake. This was real, all of it."

It took Jess a moment to register what he was saying, and when she did her eyes snapped open, her thighs snapped shut, and she threw her arms in front of her body to cover herself. "Oh shit. Oh...shit. I can't believe I...shit!"

He averted his eyes from her body. Even though she held no physical attraction for him now, they had just watched each other come and that was gross. Neither one spoke as she gathered her clothes and dashed off for a hot shower to wipe away the feeling of griminess that clung to her after what had just passed between them.

The next day, Kim came back to do laundry and eat decent food. When she arrived, Ryan was in the kitchen making himself a sandwich. "Hey dork. How are things?"

"Ummm...I mean, weird, but it's always weird now."

"Yeah. Is mom around?"

"She's at the gym and then running a couple of errands. She won't be back for a couple of hours."

Kim shifted uncomfortably. "And...you two...?"

"Uh...mostly stable. We've each had a couple of dreams - not at the same time, thank Jebus - and last night there was an...incident."

"I don't want to know the details," Kim said hastily. "But...uhhhh...did you?"

"No, no sex. We didn't even touch each other. It was just the most we've done since we've gotten back. We're both kinda shaken up about it, so if mom's acting kind of spooked around me, that's why."

"I can honestly say I never thought I'd have to ask my brother if he'd fucked our mom yet."

"Not how I saw my life going either."

"Have you guys kept...you know, changing?"

"I'm filling out - the shirts I bought to fit tight before school don't even fit my chest anymore. I've put on twelve pounds, and all of it seems to be muscle. As for mom, I think it's mostly coloration, like getting darker. And there is one other thing."

Kim listened as Ryan described how casual he and their mom were about nudity these days (he alluded to the frequent masturbation as well) then observed, "It's like that fucking curse or blessing or whatever is fighting back. The last thing they did put a wall in front of it, so it's making you both constantly horny and keeping you naked so when you guys have a...what was it, a 'breakthrough?' When you have one of those, you'll both be ready."

"You're probably right, although..."

"Hm?"

"Although last night mom started our thing fully clothed and ended up without a thing on, so I think the breakthroughs are able to deal with whatever we do to try to stop them."

"No details. But are you sure what happened last night actually happened? Maybe it was one of those hallucinations."

"We're sure." The fact was, his mother had accidentally left her panties in his room last night. He knew he should have returned them to her or quietly slipped them into her wash, but something had made him keep them. They were currently under his pillow.

Kim sighed and sat down at the kitchen table. "Listen, I've been givings things a lot of thought, obviously. It's been hard because there's nobody I can even talk to about it up there, so I'm going to need to talk to both of you about it a lot."

"But no details."

"I...I don't know, I may need some details to get this shit straight, but I'll get those from mom. It's so much creepier when they're coming from you."

"Right. I'll stay as general as possible."

Jess was in the living room that evening when Kim sat down next to her. The mother smiled and welcomed her daughter to join her, even though she had been just about to slide her hand into her panties and get herself off quick. Rain was hitting the window panes and lightning was flashing once or twice a minute; it was a good night to sit on the sofa and absorb some tube.

"Whatcha watching?" Kim asked.

"Oh, just Game of Thrones."

"That's a little...on the nose, isn't it?"

Jess chuckled. "I guess it is. What's going on at school?"

"Oh, just the usual, parties and classes."

"You really should be mentioning the second one first, you know."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll make my grades. After you graduate, nobody looks at your transcripts anyway."

"That doesn't mean you should aim for Cs."

"Doesn't mean I shouldn't." She paused, then added, "Something funny happened the other night. Well, more ironic I guess, or maybe just coincidence. Anyway, we were playing truth or dare and one of the guys was asked who gave him his first blow job - he said it was his mom when she came home drunk and horny after a party. She climbed in bed with him, sucked him off, and fell asleep. She was confused the next morning about why she woke up naked in his bed, but he told her she came in drunk and passed out so he slept on the sofa."

"She still doesn't know she did it? Well, looks like incest is going around."

"Yeah, um..."

"You have questions."

"Yeah, I mean...one, mostly, with a follow-up."

"Shoot. There's not a lot of point in keeping secrets when this is all going to spill out sooner or later anyway."

"OK. Ok. So...OK. When I got home I talked to Ryan and he said you guys did something last night."

"Was he bragging about it?"

"No, I asked how you two were holding up, and he mentioned it. He said it wasn't sex but you hadn't done anything like it since you got back."

"That's...true," Jess nodded. She found that she wasn't self-conscious about discussing it, or at least not nearly as self-conscious as she should have been.

"What was it?"

Jess arched an eyebrow. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know - I'm sure Ryan would too - but I thought you didn't want details."

"I don't, especially not from him. But I've spent the last two weeks wondering what you guys were doing and it's been eating me up. I think not knowing is worse than knowing."

"I understand. Well, Ryan's having a hard time in school - the thing we told you about the whole city being involved? Well there are over 20 people in his school who knew from the magic, and they told everyone else like it was a wonderful thing. Now everyone knows and people are teasing him very badly, even his friends. So he stayed home."

"I don't think I've seen him stay home on a Friday or Saturday night since he was like 12."

"So you know how bad it must be for him."

"Are you trying to make me feel bad for the little butthead?" Jess gave her daughter a look, and finally Kim shrugged and added, "Fine, I feel bad for him. We give each other shit but he's a good guy. When he's not being a butthead."

"I'll tell him about your enthusiasm," Jess said dryly, and then continued on to tell her about what had happened the night before. Kim winced at some of the details but she seemed resolute - as she said, she would rather know how far things had gone. When she got to the part where she grabbed her clothes and hustled out, she added, "So, that's the most we've done in the real world. Of course, we've gone much further in dreams and visions."

Kim was quiet for a moment when Jess was done before finally asking, "How do you feel about it now?"

"Honestly? I'm proud of us. When we're in one of those...spells, it's so hard to pull out of it. We don't want to pull out of it. But we kept ourselves from doing too much, and because of that, we can keep fighting it for another day."

Kim fell into another silence, moving the pieces around in her mind. Finally she asked, "You two are going to end up together no matter what. Right?"

"It seems that way. If there's a way to stop it, I don't know what it is. And neither of us are keen to talk to a therapist about it because they might throw one or both of us into jail or protective custody or a loony bin or some damned thing."

"Unless you found a therapist who was already under the spell."

"That wouldn't be much better."

"Last night, when he said...well, about anal. Were you tempted?"

"So tempted I don't know how we got away without doing it."

"How do you feel about it now? Not just butt stuff, but...intercourse with him. Is it tempting?"

"Not at the moment, no. I had about a fifteen minute stretch in yoga class this morning where I'd have jumped his bones if he'd have been there, but it passed. Now thinking of sex with him does nothing for me."

"It doesn't make you sick or worried or anything?"

"No. I can think about sex with your dad and feel excited, but when I think about doing the same thing with your brother right now, it's no more exciting or revolting than...I don't know, putting gas in the car or making a grocery list."

"So weird." Pause, then, "Didn't the witch doctors say it was going to get really bad until you finally gave in?"

"Yes, it's going to get as bad as it was on the island. By the last few days there, not having him inside me hurt, like real, physical pain. If it had been another two days to that second ceremony...well, I'd be Seetsahm and pregnant right now. As it was we made out and dry-humped the night before. We were both at the end of our ropes. I expect it will get like that again right before we finally give in."

"Do you think about giving in now? I mean, why keep fighting when you know you're going to lose and be happy that you did?"

"Because of your dad, and you."

Kim nibbled her lip for a moment, then said, "I've lost a lot of sleep over this for the past couple of weeks, but I realized something. I'm going to love you - OK, both of you - no matter whether it happens sooner or later. I don't understand it, but if it had been me and Ryan or me and dad...I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have the strength you guys have had. I'd have given in already. I'm proud of you both."

Jess broke into a wet-eyed smile and leaned over to give her daughter a hug. "And we'll love you, always."

"I know you'll hold out as long as you can. If you need to give in - when...you need to give in - I won't judge you. I'll be your daughter, the butthead's sister, and the best aunt or sister or whatever I can be to all my new little nieces and nephews or sisters and brothers."

"Thank you, honey," Jess whispered, pulling her daughter in even closer as tears finally started. "I can't tell you how much that means to us."

Kim hugged back just as fiercely, whispering, "Don't tell Ryan I love him. It will spoil him."

Jess chuckled and fell silent for a bit, and then, "I think about your father all the time, how he'll take this. When he sees me, sees Seetsahm, he'll understand that something happened that's beyond our control, but he may still hate me and never want to see me again. He's going to need someone he can talk to about it, and that needs to be you. Be there for him. Please."
"I will, mom. I promise."

A Few Days More

Back to work, back to school, back to the daily wheel-go-round.

Ryan's school was becoming unbearable, because it seemed like everybody was going out of their way to give him shit. People he didn't know - including little freshman shitstains who normally would have panicked at the thought of sassing a senior, especially an obviously strong one like him - were casually talking crap about him in his hearing. Any time before he would have confronted them about it in a direct manner, but what the hell was he going to do about it now? He couldn't fight the whole school. He just resigned himself to being a laughingstock, put his head down, and tried to make it through the day.

A few things happened over the next few days that stood out to him, though. One of the kids in his grade who had made himself most obnoxious about the whole thing had a seeming change of heart on Tuesday afternoon and was all smiles as he quietly congratulated Ryan about his new relationship. Ryan would have chalked it up to being another way to needle him, but the next day that same kid was suspended for shoving another kid who was talking shit about Ryan. He talked it over that night with his mother, and they agreed that the magic on the city must be spreading like an infection, slowly but surely; this was not a comforting thought.

On that same day, Ms. Hegel called on him to stay behind again, which he did with trepidation. It turned out, however, that she was shockingly nice and very supportive, and she didn't seem to hate him at all. She recommended a math tutor he could work with after school and they had a pleasant chat. The topic turned, as it always seemed to, to his relationship with Jess, and she counseled him to smile and endure the teasing because everyone was bound to come around to the right side of things sooner or later. Once again he asked how she knew that, she she answered in vague confusion that she just knew, "Like how you know the difference between up and down." The last thing she told him before he left her classroom was that she was looking forward to seeing him and his mother together at the parent-student-teacher conferences that were coming up in a few weeks, and she hoped that they were a happy couple by then.

His extensive roster of friends had dwindled to Mycah; others were too eager to razz him about the topic that had already exhausted him. Then too, Mycah knew the truth and provided a sounding board for much of Ryan's frustration. Mycah never asked for details about how things were between Ryan and his mother, but he dropped not-very-subtle hints about wanting to know in a general way how far things had gone. Ryan filled him in only very slightly more than he had with Kim.

Jess' work was fine, actually. It was pleasant to get into a routine while so much madness was going on. Nobody but Nolan seemed to have any idea of what was really happening with her, not even from the rumor mill, so she could get on with her work in peace and quiet. Even Nolan, after a couple of weeks of intense interest, seemed to back off and was now only occasionally asking in a very general way how things were going.

There were still encounters with strangers who knew far more than they should. Jess was approached several times from Sunday through Wednesday, but at least everyone was enthusiastic. This was especially true in the case of a very sweet old lady who insisted on telling Jess at length how wonderful it was that she was going to have so many children with her son, about how she'd had sex with her own son a few times in the free-love early 1970s, and about how disappointed she was that her son hadn't gotten her pregnant given how happy it was going to make Jessica.

Ryan had a few similar encounters, most notably with the two on-duty staff members at his local Subway who were under the spell and who made him explain several times that no, honestly, he hadn't had sex with Jess yet; only then did they give him his sandwich and scold him to get busy on his mom. The whole thing had been mortifying, and no less so for him being the only customer in the place when it happened.

There were no more physical changes except that Jess thought her skin hard darkened a little, but when she stood naked before her son and he examined her closely, he said he didn't see a thing.

As far as breakthroughs went, they each felt it. Ryan's came on Tuesday night after Jess had gone to bed. He had become ravenous for her and went to her bedroom. He wanted to awaken her and do something, anything, but he retained enough control to instead simply stand over her bed and masturbate. It was too dark for him to see anything but a vague shape in the darkness, but just knowing that she was so close was good enough to make him soil the tissues he'd brought.

Jess's breakthrough was a little worse. On Wednesday evening after they'd eaten dinner, she had gone to finish some paperwork in her home office when she got so aroused that she walked to the kitchen where her son was washing dishes. She stripped as she went, leaving a trail of clothes on the floor, and by the time she came up behind him she was naked, dripping, and extremely ready. She'd pressed herself into him and reached around, sliding her hand down the front of his jeans to stroke his ever-present erection. He jumped in surprise, but he gently prevented her from undressing him as she spewed very erotic filth into his ear. Maintaining his cool was difficult, but he managed it in spite of her begging him to "fuck my wet little cunt and pound your seed as deep into me as you can get it." He'd guided her to the bathroom and she was frantically rubbing her clit even before he could get out of the room; two minutes later she emerged (still naked, of course) and apologized for the thing that neither of them could control.

Another breakthrough hit her the next day at work, and again she'd fled to the bathroom, lost in a vision of her son giving her the most amazing buttfucking of her life. So powerful was the vision that she gave herself three intense orgasms before it subsided; this barely took ten minutes, though, so nobody remarked upon it, or upon the spring in her step and her smile as she returned to her desk.

She'd only been back at work for about 20 minutes when her cell rang; to her surprise, it was Paul. While they talked almost every day, they usually did it before she came to work; this was the first time he had called her at her job since before the family had gone to the island to visit him. She greeted him with a cheerful, "Hi, babe!"

"Hi. How are you?" Her husband spoke in a voice devoid of the excitement she usually heard when talking to him.

"I'm OK. Are you OK? Did something happen?"

"I guess that depends on your definition of 'happened.' I got a text from Kendra Bosco."

"Oh, really?" That was a surprise. Kendra and her husband had been good friends with Jess and Paul for years, close enough to hang around a lot and even spend a couple of camping weekends with. Then Kendra and her husband split acrimoniously and Kendra changed her life dramatically, adopting a boho artist persona and running with a new crowd. Gradually they had less and less contact with her until, for the past five years, she was a Christmas letter kind of friend. They occasionally commented on each other's social media posts, but that was it. "What's up with her?"

"It was a weird text. She asked me how I was doing with everything that was going on back home." Oh. Oh fucking hell. "I asked her what she meant, and you know what she told me?"

Jess let out a long, pained sigh. "Yeah. I do."
That Damned Blessing Ch. 05
In Which The Chickens Who Have Come Home Begin To Roost.
Author's Note: All imaginary persons I imagined for the purposes of this story who engage in sexual activity of the imaginary variety are 18 imaginary years old or older, I imagine. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is coincidental but obviously fated to be, so blame the Universe and not me.

Up next: Are You Tiffani Caine? Chapter 6

That Damned Blessing, Chapter 5:

In Which The Chickens Who Have Come Home Begin To Roost

A Thursday in Late September

Jess had just run to the work bathroom to revel in a scorchingly hot vision of Ryan sodomizing her like an animal, and her grunting and moaning and yelling for her son to fuck her was loud enough that the sound carried outside the bathroom. She'd gotten herself off so hard that it was a couple of minutes before her legs steadied themselves enough for her to stand, then went back to her desk. Twenty minutes later her cell rang; to her surprise, it was Paul. While they talked almost every day, they usually did it before she came to work; this was the first time he had called her at her job since before the family had gone to the island to visit him. She greeted him with a cheerful, "Hi, babe!"

"Hi. How are you?" Her husband spoke in a voice devoid of the excitement she usually heard when talking to him.

"I'm OK. Are you OK? Did something happen?"

"I guess that depends on your definition of 'happened.' I got a text from Kendra Bosco."

"Oh, really?" That was a surprise. Kendra and her husband had been good friends with Jess and Paul for years, close enough to hang around a lot and even spend a couple of camping weekends with. Then Kendra and her husband split acrimoniously and Kendra changed her life dramatically, adopting a boho artist persona and running with a new crowd. Gradually they had less and less contact with her until, for the past five years, she was a Christmas letter kind of friend. They occasionally commented on each other's social media posts, but that was it. "What's up with her?"

"It was a weird text. She asked me how I was doing with everything that was going on back home." Oh. Oh fucking hell. "I asked her what she meant, and you know what she told me?"

Jess let out a long, pained sigh. "Yeah. I do."

There was a pregnant pause before Paul demanded, "Is it true?"

"What exactly did she say?"

"That you and our son are a couple and trying to get pregnant."

"Oh. No, that's not true." Pause. "Not yet."

"NOT YET?" Paul roared. "What the FUCK does that mean?"

She sighed. "I'll tell you everything but I can't talk here. Give me five minutes to get to my car."

Exactly five minutes later, she was sitting behind the wheel of her automobile when her husband called back. Without preamble, he picked up where he left off with, "What the fuck does 'Not yet' mean?"

"Something happened on the island. Something you won't believe a word of."

"Try me."

"It involves magic. Not card tricks and rabbits from hats, but real, honest-to-God magic."

A long pause, then, "Christ, Jess. If you're having an affair with our son, just tell me. Don't insult my intelligence."

It was a perfectly reasonable reaction to being told an impossibility, so she didn't get angry. "You remember that fertility ceremony in the village? It worked."

"So, what, they hypnotized you into incest? Give me a break."

"Not hypnosis. Starting that night, Ryan and I began having the same dreams. Not similar dreams, not dreams on the same topic - dreams that were identical down to the last detail."

"Sure you did. What kind of dreams?"

"Sex dreams. They started with...how much detail do you want?"

"We've been married for twenty years, close enough. I thought we didn't have secrets from each other."

"Some of these details might not be nice to hear."

"As not-nice as hearing from Kendra-Christ-Almighty-Bosco that my son is banging my wife with the intent of knocking her up?"

"You're going to hear things you can't unhear, but here goes." She launched into the story, starting from the ceremony and going all the way down to the present moment. She talked about how the dreams got progressively more involved, how they began to intrude into real life, and how hard both she and Ryan fought. She told about the second ceremony and what it had done to the city they lived in. She talked about how hard it was getting to distinguish reality from vision and how hard it sometimes was to keep from doing real things. She even told him about the breakthrough she'd had where Ryan had stopped her from seducing him in the kitchen. Paul asked a lot of questions and interjected a lot of defiant disbelief at first, but as the story went on he got quieter and quieter until, by the end, he was just listening.

When she was done, there was a long moment of silence before he said, softly, "You sound like you actually do believe all this magic stuff."

"Babe, I'm not a pale, freckly redhead anymore, I'm a Mediterranean-complected brunette. I used to have the body of a woman in her forties, and now I look like the hottest new pledge at the sorority. My shoes don't fit right anymore because my feet shrunk a half a size. When Ryan got to the island he didn't look a day over 18, and now he doesn't look a day under 25. Yes, I believe in all this magic stuff, because all this magic stuff isn't giving me a choice in the matter."

"I don't know whether I want to think you're telling the truth or you're lying. Either way, I'm having a really hard time buying a word of this."

"I understand. I wouldn't believe it myself if it wasn't happening to me." Pause, then, "Hey, I have an idea. Go to that village and talk to the shamans, Adouwe and Jake. Jake speaks better English. Ask them what happened. Ask them why there was just a gathering of every shaman and holy man from every island. Ask them what they did and why."

"It sounds like a waste of time."

"If it would help you believe me, is it really a waste of time?"

Pause, then, "No, I guess not. Give me directions."

She did, then added, "Babe, please understand. Neither Ryan nor I asked for this. Neither of us wanted it. Both of us are fighting it as hard as we can, every second of every day."

"And if what you say is true, then it won't matter how hard you fight, right? You'll end up someone else, our son's woman, constantly pregnant for however many decades?"

"That's how it looks. I'm sorry, Paul. I am so sorry. I wish there was something, anything we could do to stop it. I don't want him, I want you." She paused, fighting back tears, and when she spoke again it was to say, "If you don't believe anything else I said, please believe that I love you more than anyone alive. All I ever wanted was to spend the rest of my life with you. I'm so sorry."

There was another long pause, and then he reluctantly said, "It sounds like you believe it, if nothing else. Today I'll go to that village. In the mean time, tonight could you send me pictures or video of you and Ryan? I want to see all these changes for myself."

"Of course. I love you."

"I know. I'll call you when I get back from the village. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Paul."

She hung up the phone, whispered, "Well that sucked," and made to get out of the car. The moment her hand touched the door handle, she instantly became achingly horny again. She took two minutes to rub one out while thinking about the first night of hers and Paul's honeymoon, then went back to work to discover three emergencies had popped up during the hour-and-a-quarter than she had spent talking to her husband. Shit never stood still.

Early that evening she gathered every lamp in the house and put them in the living room, trying to make one side of the room as bright as possible. Ryan was first before the camera, taking off his shirt so that his father could see how much he'd filled out since he'd left the island - his dad saw him shirtless there enough for him to know that he'd changed too much for any natural growth in less than a month.

When it came Jess' turn, she handed Ryan the camera and began to strip down. So natural was nudity to them both right now that she had already positioned herself in the brightest part of the room before he thought to ask, "Hey...do you think dad might get really pissed at you being naked in front of me?"

"I don't know, maybe. I did tell him how comfortable we were with each other being nude, so maybe seeing how nonchalantly we both take this will help convince him. Ummm, you aren't having a breakthrough, are you?"

"Huh? No, why do you ask?"

"Because your cock is threatening to rip out of your jeans like an alien of of someone's chest."

He looked down and laughed. "Nah, I'm OK, just horny again. I'm gonna go jack off to lesbians after this."

She snorted, amused rather than scandalized - the time was permanently vanished when they found talking about the most explicit sexual functions to be awkward. "Why do I have the feeling that you're going to want a lot of threeways when we're finally together?"

"Because I'm a guy? OK, ready. Start posing."

This wasn't the first naked video that she'd sent to her husband over the years, or even over the past few months. This one was different though because it was almost clinical in its detachment. She talked about every part of her that had changed - her hair now brown and wavy instead of lank and red, her skin darkened several shades, her nipples now dark instead of pink. She pointed out how her batwings had disappeared to leave her with perfectly toned arms, how her stomach was now fitness model hard, how there wasn't a trace of cellulite anywhere, how the flab on her thighs had vanished, and how her ass was now a solid, flawless mass of muscle instead of a pair of dimply bags of cottage cheese. Ryan zoomed in on each part in turn, getting close to get views that showed the physical evidence of everything she said.

When they were done, Jess took the phone back and sent the videos to her husband. "You know, he might be at the village right now, talking to Jack and Adouwe. I wonder if they'll be able to convince him."

"I think we should have Kim contact him to tell him that she's convinced it's real. She has no reason to lie to him. Maybe that would help."

"Good idea, babe," she said, setting the phone on the coffee table. She leaned in to give him a motherly kiss on the cheek for his help, but between the time she started her lean and the time she finished it, a switch flipped in her mind and the kiss wound up on her son's lips instead. She hadn't planned it and he hadn't expected it, but in an instant her tongue was in his mouth and then his tongue was in hers and he was playing with her nipples with one hand while squeezing her ass with the other and she was stroking him through his jeans working frantically to make his perfect cock shoot its delicious sperm into his underwear -

The kiss only lasted three minutes, but it was among the best three minutes of either of their lives. Finally, though, he managed to push her away. "Mom - mom! Stop, you're having a breakthrough. Take a deep breath..."

For the first few seconds she looked at him with ravenous hunger in her eyes, but then her expression softened and she gave a jerky nod. "Go. Take care of that erection - and lock your door, because if you don't that thing's going inside me tonight."

"Love you, mom," and with that he disappeared to his bedroom. She sat herself down on the sofa and masturbated to the thought of her son fucking a baby into her before sunup. After that she put all the lamps back where they belonged and took a shower, where she got herself off again to thoughts of the husband she loved so much. Once that was done, she had a quick text exchange with Kim telling her that Paul knew and asking her to contact him to help him swallow the admittedly preposterous truth.

At 4 AM the next morning, Jess was dreaming about Cirque du Soliel except that all the acrobats were zebras when her phone rang with her husband's unique ringtone (Taylor Swift's Lover). Instantly wide awake, she scrabbled for her phone and managed to answer it before it went to voice mail. "Paul?"

"Jesus babe, I don't even know what to think anymore."

"What happened?" she asked, shoving herself to a sitting position.

"I went up to that village. Adouwe wasn't there, but I talked to that Jake guy. He almost filled his pants when I told him who I was - I thought he was going to make a break for it."

"What did he tell you?"

"That everything you told me was right. That they used magic, real magic. I thought he was full of it, you know, but I couldn't think of a single reason he'd lie to me about that, especially given how scared he was when I showed up.

"Oh, and Kim sent me a long, long text this morning. She said that she believes it, that she's seen evidence with her own eyes of all the changes. And the videos you sent...I can't explain them in any way except what you said."

"So..."

"I don't know. I don't have any natural explanation for any of this, but I still can't believe it. Magic...it's a lot to ask."

"I get it."

"I mean...do you two just...accept it?"

"I - we - understand what's going to happen. We understand we can't stop it. You can't keep rejecting evidence that builds and builds every hour of every day; sooner or later you have to accept it or else give up and go insane. But more than that, that second ceremony did something to our heads to make us calmer - we're still fighting every single day, but we just can't get frantic about it even if we try."

"And the whole city knows it?"

"They said they probably altered the minds of one or two percent of the population, but that's not the whole story. People who were changed told a lot of people who weren't, so everyone at Ryan's school knows. He's having a really hard time because everybody's picking on him. And it's spreading - a couple of those people picking on him suddenly became very accepting and supportive. It's insane."

"Ryan's really having problems?"

"Almost everyone who wasn't changed by the magic is bullying him. He's never been one to back down from a bully, but when there's hundreds and hundreds of them coming at him at once, what can he do? At least Mycah is still rock-solid for him. Oh, do you remember Ms. Hegel the math teacher? The one you think is so hot?"

"Of course."

"He has her again this year and she's always keeping him after class to tell him he needs to get me pregnant. He's always been enthusiastic about school, but I can barely shove him out the door in the morning anymore."

"And strangers really come up to you and just start talking to you about it?"

"Yeah. That's the only part I can get wigged about these days. Yesterday after work I stopped to get gas and a young couple just came up and started telling me how happy they were for us. I've never seen them before. They were Arabs, the woman had a hijab and they spoke so little English that I could barely understand them, but they treated me like I was their best friend. It happens almost every day to one or both of us."

He sighed. "I need you to be honest with me, and don't worry about my feelings. How far have you two gone?"

"In real life? I guess the time we dry-humped in the hotel on the island. We haven't gone that far since the second ceremony...not quite."

"Not quite?"

Now it was her turn to sigh. "We had a mutual masturbation session a few days ago, and last night we made out and felt each other up some. When we get those spells, those breakthroughs, you wouldn't believe how hard it is to stop, but we've managed it...so far."

There was a long pause which Jess did not disturb. Finally Paul said, "Obviously we have to figure out what we do, you and me."

"I love you. If you want a divorce, I understand."

"I suppose it's going to come to that sooner or later. Do you want a divorce?"

"It's the second-to-last thing in the world that I want, but last thing I want is to tie you to me when we all know how this is going to end."

A pained sigh. "I'm going to have to think about this. You might not hear from me for a while."

"I understand. I love you, babe."

"I love you, babe." He hung up.

There was no point in trying to go back to sleep after that, so she got up and started getting ready for work.

Ryan didn't want to get up because he knew it would be a bad day at school, and he knew that because every day was a bad day at school. His alarm sounded, her turned it off, and he rolled over to stare at the wall. His mom would come in in half an hour and force him to get up, but until then he would pretend that he didn't have to face the world.

Except his mom didn't wait half an hour - barely five minutes later she was knocking on his door. "Honey? Can I come in?"

He sighed. Hopefully she wasn't having a breakthrough, because he could not deal with that so early on a school day. "Yeah."

She tried the door before saying, "It's locked."

"Oh yeah, I did that last night, hold on." Reluctantly he pushed himself up and out of bed. He didn't even notice he was naked.

She opened the door and stepped inside, dressed for work and ready to go. He returned to sit on the bed and she joined him, asking, "How did you sleep?"

"Fine, I guess. I just don't want to go."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You know, pretty soon nobody will be giving me shit there because they'll all be...brainwashed, changed, whatever. Everybody will be happy for me and for us. That sounds worse than being the butt of every joke."

"I understand. I feel that way too."

"Anyway, I'm up, you don't need to tell me."

"I wanted to talk to you about something. Your dad called a couple hours ago. He went to the village and talked to Jake. Kim texted him too."

Her tone was neutral and carefully controlled, so he didn't know what to make of that information. "OK. And?"

"After all that, and after we talked this morning, I think he believes what happened to us. I don't think he accepts it exactly, but he believes."

"What did he say about it?"

"Nothing, really. I think he's just trying to absorb it and let it be real."

"It's a lot to swallow."

"Yeah. He said he might not be in touch for a while." She paused for a deep breath before continuing, "There's one more thing. He asked me if I wanted a divorce. I didn't exactly say yes, but, well, let's say I told him that the alternative was worse for him and I didn't want that."

It took a moment for Ryan to give a resigned, "Shit."

"I know."

"I never wanted to come between you two."

"Hush, I know. You don't even need to say it."

"I love him. I'm going to miss him."

"Me too, babe. Me too."

They were both quiet for a moment before he said, "If you guys divorce - even if you start the process - that's going to be one less thing to hold onto to keep us from just giving in."

"It is. But it's the only fair thing for your father."

"I guess." There was a long pause where neither spoke, and then Ryan said, "I need to ask you something and you're going to tell me the truth no matter what it is. Understand?"

His commanding tone sent a shiver of pleasure through his mother, and she blushed and rubbed her thighs together unconsciously. "I understand, babe."

"If dad says yes to the divorce, do you even want to keep fighting this?"

"I...I don't know, sometimes yes and sometimes no. It makes the fight seem more pointless, doesn't it?"

"Like standing in the path of a tsunami and giving it the finger."

"Do you want to give up?"

"No. I know it's the sensible thing to do, but I'm going to make this damned blessing work to get me. It'll win, but I'm going down punching."

Jess beamed. "I'm proud of you, babe. So proud."

"Hearing you say that made my dick even harder than it was already. You'd better get out of here before I break that promise."
She smiled and stood. "OK, come hard and then get ready for school. I think I'm going to go rub my clit before I leave."

"Love you, mom."

"Love you, babe."

That Sunday afternoon, Ryan was in his bedroom with Mycah, playing Tony Hawk on Playstation. Mycah was rock-solid, his only remaining friend except for Lexi, but Lexi didn't know what was going on and Mycah did; that made Mycah a life preserver in the big sea of shit that was Ryan's social life these days. Twice in the past week Mycah had had to talk Ryan down from punching some smartass fucker in the goddamned head at school (with Ryan's suddenly-powerful build, he might have been the most dangerous kid in the place if he was pushed too far). Today they were spending more time talking than virtually skateboarding. As they were moving on to the next level, Mycah said, "Hey, mind if I ask you something about you and your mom?"

"Nah, ask what you want."

"So, like, do you two ever just talk about how things are gonna be when you two finally..."

"Sometimes," Ryan nodded. "I mean, we already know how most of it's going to be - we don't talk as much about, like, the main part of it, you know? But last night we spent two hours talking about baby names."

"How did that conversation start?"

"I don't even remember. That's the thing, those kinds of conversations feel so natural to us now that we'll find ourselves half an hour in before we even realize what we're talking about. Oh, this morning over breakfast we talked about which positions we like."

"Damn. And then did you..."

"No we didn't try them out."

"I'm sorry for even asking that, brother."

"Don't be. This whole thing is so stressful for me that it's hard to remember how stressful it must be for you."

"Don't worry about me. I just wish I could do something to help. I'm just sitting here watching it eat two people I care about. I feel useless."

Ryan paused the game and turned to look at his friend. "Useless? You might be the only reason that Kohler kid isn't in the ICU."

On Friday a shit-for-brains sophomore named Kohler Randall had decided it was a good idea to stand behind Ryan when Ryan was at his locker and say things like, "What's it like being a motherfucker, motherfucker?" and "Perverts like you don't belong on the streets, nevermind in school." Without warning Ryan had spun, put his hand around Kohler's throat, and cocked his other hand back for a full-strength punch - and then Mycah was there to grab his fist and calm him down. Mycah had then told Kohler that the next time he was even rumored to say something about Ryan, both of them would beat Kohler into pink slime - and, seeing as Mycah was 6' 7" black kid who could choose to look much meaner than he was, while Kohler was a 5' 6" fishbelly-white upper-middle-class derp, the sophomore had apologized profusely and run off to the bathroom to see about drying the urine patch in his pants.

Of course, Mycah just laughed. "When was the last time you were even in a fight? That kid might have kicked your ass."

"Hey!" Ryan protested with a smile. "I was in a fight in 9th grade, remember? Against Edward Bouchet?"

Mycah laughed even louder. "That was a shoving match. You mostly just bumped your chests against each other."

"Hey, I threw a punch!"

"Did you land it?"

"...no..." Both boys laughed.

They played a couple more rounds before Ryan said, quietly, "This spell's going to get you too, you know. Sooner or later."

"Yeah," Mycah admitted soberly. "I know before long I'll be telling you two to get it every night. Until then, though, I'm gonna be whatever you need me to be. Brothers forever."

Fifteen minutes later they were still at it when Jess strolled into the room carrying two cans of ice-cold Bawls Guarana, one for each boy. Ryan took his, popped it open, and thanked his mother. Mycah was focusing on doing a stunt, but when he had a chance to pause, he turned to take the drink and immediately cried, "FUCKING SHIT JESUS CHRIST MRS. M!"

Jess and her son both looked completely baffled for a moment before Jess looked down and casually said, "Oh. I guess I'm naked."

Mycah had slapped his hand over his eyes and turned his head away. "Yes! You are!"

Ryan exchanged an amused glance with his mother, who was only slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, dawg. Both of us are naked almost all the time around here anymore."

"I honestly forgot," Jess said. "I'll go put something on."

"Please!" Mycah said.

Jess handed Ryan Mycah's drink and walked out of the room. "It's OK, you can look. She's gone."

Mycah spread his fingers over one eye and carefully peered around before letting his hand down and taking his soda, muttering, "God damn, if black people could blush..."

"I'm sorry. Clothing is super optional around here now now. I answered the door naked for the pizza guy the other day - it took me a few seconds to realize why he was acting so funny."

Mycah shook his head and took a long swallow. "I just...damn..." Another swallow. "I can't believe how much she's changed. I mean, I knew she was changing, just..."

"I get it. I see it every day so I can't be surprised anymore."

"Back when we were kids she used to wear stuff in the summer that didn't hide all that much, but, damn, I didn't know better and I'd say she was a 100% different human being. That's just so hard to deal with."

"I get it."

"What do the people say where she works?"

"Everybody thought she'd taken a month off for a bunch of plastic surgery. Her boss was one that the spell got, though, so he knows the truth."

"Fuck. Fuck. I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"You got a fifteen on a one-to-ten scale walking around nude every day and you're not up on her. Mom or not, it's got to be tempting."

"Eh, most of the time I don't think about it. Lately, more and more often...yeah. Very tempting." It was true - every day he seemed to think about her more in sexual terms, even when he wasn't having a vision or getting stuck in a breakthrough. He'd look at her body and imagine what it was going to be like when they were finally together, and inevitably that would be followed by going to his bedroom so he could jerk off. He knew that she had noticed him looking at her that way, and he had noticed her looking at him the same: simple comfort with each other's sexuality was slowly shifting to having sexual feelings for each other all the time.

A few minutes later, Mycah hesitantly began, "Hey brother, about your mom - "

"Yeah, go ahead and jerk off to her tonight. I probably will too."

"Thanks."

The Next Seven Days

Over the first few days of the next week, the sexual attraction between Ryan and his mom gradually got stronger and more frequent. It didn't become constant or overpowering, but every day he caught her looking lustfully at his ass, at his cock, at his shoulders, at the muscles of his back, just as she caught him staring at her various parts from the top of her head to her feet. There was no way to disguise these looks as anything but desire, but there was also no reason to - this was the next step of the magic, they both knew it, they both knew there was nothing they could do about it, and each knew the other felt the same way. The preened for each other a bit, but there was no touching. Masturbation was no more common than before (it wasn't physically possible for it to be or it would have gotten painful) but it became harder and harder to think of anything but the other when they touched themselves.

Something was going to give. It was only a question of time - and not that much time.

On Friday. Jess had to work late - she'd been distracted all day long by three of her coworkers suddenly coming under the spell and not only telling her (and everyone else) how great it was about her and Ryan, but also all her unturned coworkers suddenly regarding her with expressions ranging from curiosity to outright disgust. Not only that, but her efforts to fantasize about her husband during her workaday masturbation sessions were futile; she could think about nothing but her son, what her son would do to her, and the babies they would make together. By the time she got home she wasn't in a great mood, and frigging herself to thoughts of Ryan boning her like a bitch in the local coffee shop could do nothing but take the edge off of her physically painful arousal. Ryan had eaten two hours before and she was exhausted; she got out of her work clothes (and actually put on tights and a long-sleeved tee for once because it was kind of chilly in the house) and gone to spend some time in the living room.

When she got there she saw that the curtains had somehow gotten caught in the sash and tangled when she'd closed the window the night before; she was standing at the window fixing them when Ryan came in to say hello. His mother had her back to him, her ass and legs looking amazing, her tight tee shirt clinging to her body. Long dark hair tumbled over her strong shoulders and down her back, looking shining and lustrous, bouncing with every move she made. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her all day, imagining all the things he wanted to do to her, imagining all the things they would do eventually, and he was as horny as he'd ever been outside of dreams and visions - as horny as when they were at the second ceremony and found it impossible to keep their hands off of each other. Now, seeing her, having her within touching distance - something was going to happen. Something had to happen. "Hi mom."

She looked over her shoulder, saw him shirtless and in jeans, let her eyes drift down to the massive erection that was tenting those jeans, and threw him the biggest smile she'd worn all day. "Hi babe. How was your day?"

"Same old same old. Yours?"

"Not great. Everybody in my office now knows about us because of the damned ceremony."

He winced in sympathy. "I'm sorry to hear that. I know how bad that can be."

"Adults have more of a filter than kids do, so it's not as bad as your school. It still sucks."

He stood motionless, watching as she adjusted the curtains to her heart's contentment - she was always fussy about things like that. Once more his eyes were drawn to his mother's butt. His mom was a gorgeous woman - more than that, she was fuckable, oozing sexuality, and these days every bit of that sexuality was pointed at him like a cannon. Some very vivid images started floating through his mind, and he couldn't think of a single reason why that should bother him.

"There we go," she said, stepping back to review her handiwork with a satisfied nod. "Now, where's the remote?"

He looked around, then remembered. "Oh, I had it last night in the big chair. It might have slipped down the cushions."

She was the nearest to the chair, so she was the one who bent over to do the search - and when she did, something simply broke in Ryan's resolve. He stepped to her, wrapping his arms around her midsection and pulling her upright and close to him. She paused, remote in hand, and asked, "Um...honey?"

"Sorry. I just want to hold you." He pulled her closer.

"From how hard you are, you want to do more than just hold me."

"I can't help it. You're too fucking hot to keep my hands off of."

"Are...you having a breakthrough?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

She relaxed slightly in his grasp, obviously thinking she was safe if he was in his right mind. "Have you taken care of it since you got home?"

"Twice."

"Maybe you should do it a third time?" Regardless of her words, she settled back against him a small but noticeable amount.

"Don't you like how it feels?"

"I...that's not the point."

"What about you?" he asked, putting his head alongside hers. "How many times did you get yourself off today?"

"Ummm, five? No, six." Whether she was aware of it or not, she was pressing back against him harder, making his hard cock press into her back and ass even more.

He began to move his hand in a little circle on her stomach, and as he did he moved his lips so they were close to her ear and whispered, "And how many of those did you think about me?"

She shifted, perhaps uncomfortably, and it was a moment before she whispered, "Six."

"You've been thinking about me all day, huh? I've been thinking about you too."

She shuddered, but didn't turn to face him. She did press her ass back, perhaps unconsciously, so his cock moved against and between her ass cheeks. "I wish I didn't. I didn't want to. I tried to think of your father, but..."

He chuckled. "And how are you feeling right now?"

"God babe, so fucking horny. I can't help it, not with you holding me this way."

"That's too bad," he told her, one hand moving up to stroke the underside of her breasts and sliding the other down so his fingertips slipped between her firm stomach and the waistband of her tights. "Because I'm not letting you go."

Jess bit her lip, unconsciously leaning her head back against his shoulder and sliding her hands down to rub his thighs. "Honey...babe...you're having a breakthrough. You're not in control."

"No I'm not, and yes I am." He leaned in and nibbled the curve of her neck, eliciting a panting moan as he squeezed her left breast. "I saw a gorgeous woman I love and I got horny as fuck and decided to do something about it."

"You should stop. We should stop. Babe..."

He squeezed her nipple through her shirt (she wasn't wearing a bra) and she arched her back to push her tits into his hand; he took advantage of her position to slip his hand deeper into her tights to find no panties whatsoever covering a wet, hot slit. As he slid his middle finger inside her, he said, "I don't want to stop."

"But we ought to..."

He began pumping his finger slowly in and out of her pussy, and as she shivered, he nibbled her earlobe and whispered, "Do you want me to stop?"

"Ryan..."

"If you don't ask me to keep going, I'll stop."

She gave a moan of frustration and, after a moment of writhing, whispered, "Keep going."

"What? I can't hear you."

"Fuck!" she almost shouted. "I need you to get me off! Please don't stop!"

"Good girl," he said, finally stepping back and allowing her to turn to face him. "Take off that fucking shirt."

The speed with which she complied was remarkable - she almost tore the seams getting it off, and she flung it, turned inside-out, to in the doorway from the foyer. Immediately she reached for her tights, but he stopped her and gave her a hungry smile. "No, I'll handle those. Come here."

She approached him, head tilted back for a kiss, but he put his hands on her hips and swung her up over his shoulder; she gave a startled squeak as he walked across the room and deposited her on the sofa. His kiss came when she was firmly seated, their tongues twisting and writhing, her grabbing the sides of his head as if to keep him from escaping. His hands were on her tits, squeezing, tugging nipples, making her whimper into his mouth -

And then his mouth was gone from hers and on her nipples, one then the other, sucking, nibbling, and Jess' moans of delight came clearer. "Fuck babe, that feels so good. It's so wrong, we shouldn't, we shouldn't - "

Her son's response was elegant, simple, and wordless: he gathered the cloth at her crotch and ripped it wide, baring a pussy red and gaping with desire for him. Instantly the smell of her need pervaded the room, and she gasped. "Oh god, yes babe - no! No, we can't fuck! I can't have you inside me!"

Ryan knew what the consequences of that were as well as she did, so he looked up at her and smiled wolfishly. "That was never the plan."

Jess understood immediately and, without hesitation, pushed her hips to the very edge of the sofa, spread her legs wider, leaned back, and smiled. "Oh. That we can do..."

Ryan's rational mind, which was still in there somewhere, told him that he shouldn't have done it and Jess shouldn't have eagerly welcomed it, but when he crouched down in front of his mother and gave her pussy a long lick from perineum to clit, it would have taken an earthquake to get either of them to stop. She moaned from how good it felt to have her destined man touch her that way in real life, and he groaned because she was the most delicious thing ever. They paused only a moment to lock eyes before, without breaking that eye contact, Ryan started to lick her again with real purpose.

"Fuck, babe - unnnhh! Fuck!" she gasped as he moved his tongue inside of her. "You look so amazing like that! Ooohhh yyyeaaahhh...I wonder if I'll look as good sucking your cock in a few minutes..."

Ryan knew she would, but he didn't check his movements to say so. He was enthralled by how she reacted to every little move he made, not because it surprised her but because if didn't - every twitch, every sound, was exactly like the first dream they'd shared back on the island, even down to the fact that they were in the living room. This might have been the first time he'd eaten her pussy, but it wasn't the first time at all - they'd done all this before, countless times, for years beyond count. They had always been lovers.

Jessica's first orgasm at the hands (tongue) of her son came quickly and forcefully. It was the best orgasm she'd ever had outside of dream or vision, and it was probably only her lust and her burning desire to reciprocate that kept her from swooning. When she could speak again she whispered, "You now."

"No," he said in the commanding tone that made her shiver. "I'm not done yet."

All Jess could do was shiver in delight and watch her son fasten his lips around her clit. After a moment she moved one hand to one of her brown nipples and begin to tug, while sliding the other down to play with Ryan's hair. He watched her face as the pleasure built rapidly, saw the way passion twisted her face into beautiful, fierce masks of raw lust - and when she came again only two minutes later and clamped her thighs around her head as her whole body arched and shook, he felt like he'd accomplished something bigger and more important than he ever had in his life. He took his mouth away, let his love revel in her afterglow for a little while, and then wordlessly stood in front of her.

She needed no command: she instantly slid to her knees in front of him, undid his jeans, and pulled them down. His cock jumped free and she had it in her mouth before it stopped bouncing. He had experienced her mouth dozens of times in dreams so he knew that she could handle his cock better than any other person in the world; this was the first time in real life though, and because of that fact alone he knew he wouldn't - or couldn't - last long. In instants she had swallowed him to the root, sliding the head of his shaft deep into her throat while her tongue performed miracles.

He smiled and cradled her cheek to feel his cock sliding in her mouth as she bobbed her head. Back on the island, Trish Hendricks and Lexi had both looked gorgeous when giving him head, but compared to Jess, they were nothing. "Hey," he said, between gasps, "I bet you look better doing that than I did doing it you you, Seetsahm."

Whether it was the compliment or being called by her true name, her eyes lit with joy and she attacked him even harder, doing things with her tongue that he hadn't known tongues could do. He tried to hold back, to prolong the pleasure, but she wanted his cum: he didn't stand a chance. With a guttural "Ohhhh fuuuuuck" and a spasm that nearly buckled his knees, his balls contracted and he detonated into her mouth. She didn't even break eye contact and not a drop escaped from between her lips; when he was done, she proudly showed him her empty mouth and then carefully licked him clean.

Afterwards they cuddled on the sofa, more for warmth than anything sexual. After a while, Jess said, "We really shouldn't have done that."
"I know," he admitted sadly. "I haven't been able to get my mind off you lately. I couldn't stop myself, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I wanted it as bad as you did. It was going to happen sooner or later. At least what we did was...well, safe."

"I know, but nothing we do is safe safe."At the village after the second ceremony, Adouwe and Jake had told them that they could stave off the final change for some unknown period, longer than six months but less than eighteen - but only if they abstained from sexual contact altogether. Anything they did, even a simple touch meant to be erotic, moved them toward the finish line faster, and the more serious things moved them faster still. Oral sex seemed pretty serious.

"I wonder how much time this cost us," she sighed into his shoulder. "Hours? Days? And we both know it's going to happen again, now that we've done it once. I know I'm not going to be able to keep my mouth off that thing for a year and a half."

"We have to do the best we can," he told her. "It can't be an every day thing - but I won't want to stop doing it any more than you do. Let's keep it to twice a week if we can."

Jess was quiet for a moment, digesting that idea before finally asking, "So...like...two times per week, or we only do it on two days but we can do it more than once each day?"

He couldn't help but chuckle, because that question occurred to him too. "Let's try for the first, but not get too upset if it's the second. We have to be kind to ourselves."

Pause, then, hopefully, "Soooo...which are we doing today?"

He grinned; his cock was already painfully hard again. "Let's go 69 for a while and find out."

She vaulted off the sofa before he finished the sentence, racing for the stairs as she called, "Last one in my bed is a rotten egg!"

Late Sunday morning, Jess was putting together her online grocery list when Paul called. They hadn't spoken - or even texted - since he had asked for time to figure things out. She had obliged him by keeping her distance. Now, as she stared at his contact picture and listened to his ringtone, her stomach tied itself in a sheepshank and her hands shook. She willed herself to calm (it didn't work) and picked up the phone. "Hi."

"Hello." Pause. "How are you?"

"Nervous. You?"

"I've been better. I've been back up to that village three times trying to find a solution, but they tell me there isn't one."

"Yeah. They did what they could, I guess. They're not all that competent for wizards."

"Heh." The laugh was mirthless. "I've been giving it a lot of thought, obviously, this whole situation. I can't believe a stupid mistake by a dipshit old man led to all this."

"Yeah, we couldn't either."

"But now you can?"

"We're living with the reality of it. Whether we accept it or not, it is what it is."

"True enough. Listen...I know none of this is your fault, or Ryan's either. You didn't want it. You did what you could to fix it. Now you're fighting a fight I can't even begin to understand." Another pause. "You are still fighting it, right?"

"As much as we can." That was true, no less so for her having swallowed six loads of her son's jizz on Friday night, the last one as copious and delicious as the first.

"Don't give me details. Jess, I...I've decided to file for divorce."

She expected it, even assumed it, but the actuality of it still hit her like a gut punch. Her marriage, the one thing she'd wanted to last every day of her life, was dead; Paul, the only man she could imagine spending her life with, was gone forever. Fucking Adouwe. Fucking island. "I understand. I don't blame you."

"I didn't want to do this. I hope you know that."

"Neither of us wanted it, but we both know it's for the best."

"I prefer to think of it as the least completely awful."

"I guess that's a better way to describe it."

"I've hired a lawyer in the Milwaukee area. You'll be hearing from him soon. I'm not going to try to screw you in the settlement."

"Thank you. This is miserable enough without a bitter divorce battle."

"When I come back for Christmas I'll sign the agreement. I guess I'll have to come back for the legal proceedings when the judge makes it final."

Instead of a joyous holiday reunion, a divorce. Wasn't that a pisser. "I'll make sure whatever lawyer I hire knows that we want it done fast and without contention."

"OK." Yet another pause in which he tried to speak a couple of times, finally managing, "This is none of my business, but are you and Ryan just going to go ahead now and...you know..."

"He and I will talk about it, I'm sure, but we've been fighting the inevitable for coming up on two months now. I can't imagine we'll stop for this."

"I love you both. I want you both to be happy. That hasn't changed. If you're holding out for my sake, don't. Jake and Adouwe said you'll both be completely happy and have no regrets once you accept it. That sounds nice."

"You're a wonderful man, Paul. I hope you can find someone who deserves you more than I did."

They talked awkwardly for a few more minutes, but there really wasn't much to say. After she hung up, she sat for twenty minutes and then went down the hall, asking both kids to meet her downstairs. Very soon, they were all gathered in the living room. "So, I just spoke to your dad."

"Yeah," Kim sighed. "He just texted me."

"What did he say?" Ryan asked.

"He and I are divorcing."

Ryan slumped and hung his head, then turned away from his sister so she wouldn't see him wipe away tears; wordlessly, she rested a hand on his shoulder.

"We all knew it was coming," Jess went on. "That doesn't make it easier for any of us."

"Yeah, uh...wow." Kim gathered herself as though for a difficult task, and then squeezed Ryan's shoulder and said, "I want you both to know that I love you. Even you, you stink rat."

"Thanks, Kim. I love you too. You're alright when you aren't trying to make my life hell."

"I love both my babies," Jess said, and a few seconds later there was a three-way hug in the middle of the room that lasted a long time. They spent almost the next hour talking, a conversation that was awkward but supportive from all directions. When it was done, Kim needed to leave to drive back to Madison to write a paper for her English class; Ryan and Jess stood at the end of the driveway and watched her go until her car was lost to sight.

In the kitchen that evening, mother and son worked on dinner - Ryan was going to grill ribeyes, potatoes, and corn on the cob, and they were going to eat out on the back deck. They made inconsequential chatter for a while, but as they were preparing to take everything outside, Ryan said, "I guess we have to talk about it."

"I guess we do. I was prepared for it, but it still hurt."

"Me too, but...have you noticed anything weird about it, or is it just me?"

She thought for a moment before she realized what he was talking about. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

"Right? I should be torn up, but I only feel..."

"Relief?"

"Yeah, relief. Isn't that fucked up?"

"I guess, but even before he made the decision, I didn't want him hurt any more than he had to be, and trying to hang onto me when I couldn't hang back was just a recipe for pain."

Ryan nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, me too, but it's more than that, isn't it?"

"It's the magic. It's healing our emotions."

"That's what I think too. It's crazy. I really hope he finds someone soon, I want him to be just as happy as..."

"As we'll be for two hundred years?"

"Yeah, that."

She finished fishing the corn out of the pot where it had been soaking. "I guess it means we can just do what we need to."

"You sound like you want to give in."

Jess put both hands on the rim of the sink and hung her head. "Right now I do. Do you?"

"No, and in an hour you probably won't either."

"Maybe. I just...I'm getting tired of fighting it. Did we share dreams last night?"

"The one where we fucked in bed, ate strawberries and whipped cream, and fucked again?"

"I guess we did. Didn't that seem nice?"

"Yeah, it was great. It doesn't change anything though."

"Doesn't it? We won't hurt anyone if we just let it happen. Aren't you just sick of fighting off the inevitable?"

"Of course I am. It's pounding us almost 24/7 these days and it's only going to get worse. I know all I have to do to make it all better is put you on your hands and knees right here and pound a baby into you. Is that really what you want?"

"I don't know. Is it terrible if I say yes?"

"We'll both say yes eventually, so saying it now isn't terrible. Are you saying it now?"

She straightened and looked her son in the eye. "Yes. I'm so tired of pushing this boulder up the mountain. I want to finish it."

He nodded and was silent for a while, thinking. Finally he said, "Let's have dinner and clean up. If you still want it when we're done, we'll go upstairs to our bed. OK?"

They had a great dinner. Ryan had always liked to grill; Paul was a wizard with it and had starting teaching his boy all the tricks at a young age. The steaks came out perfectly (rare for him, medium rare for her), the potatoes were cooked with precision, and the corn was tender, juicy and dripping with the butter and herb mixture Jess had put inside the husks before the cobs went onto the grill. Jess had made a terrific salad of bitter greens with a homemade vinaigrette as well as a peppercorn mushroom sauce for the steaks. They shared a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon (Ryan was three years underage, but he had the body of an adult - and besides, Jess had sucked his cock and swallowed his cum, so denying him a drink seemed ludicrous). The weather was absolutely gorgeous, with a late-season warm spell keeping the temperatures comfortable, and dusk turned the scattered clouds into a Parrish painting. Dessert was a flawless chocolate torte from Jess' favorite bakery (the baker had delightedly given it to her for free and wished her a romantic dinner with her son).

They didn't discuss their dilemma during dinner - the topic wasn't raised until the last of the washing up was done. Then Ryan turned to his mother and quietly asked, "So?"

She shook her head. "No, you were right, we gave it some time and I don't want to do it now. I don't want to give those idiotic shamans the satisfaction."

"Atta girl," Ryan said with a big smile, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her into a hug. "Let's keep running on spite for as long as we can."

"I love you, Ryan."

"I love you, mom."

Until Halloween

What they did on Friday did indeed move them closer to the finish line. When Jess woke up Monday morning, she found her clothes fit just a little bit differently, and she quickly determined that she had shrunk. She didn't know how much, but she was sure it was less than an inch. Jess was a tall woman, but Seetsahm was short. She was closer to being Seetsahm now.

There was more. When she arrived at work, five more of her coworkers had been converted to mom-son incest cheerleaders. Even though she understood why it was happening, it was eerie and upsetting to see people who were giving her the stink eye three days before now eagerly asking about how her relationship with Ryan was going. Many highly inappropriate questions were asked, and she answered none of them; they still got on her nerves. All that was added to the fact that all that talk made her incredibly horny for her boy, but all the attention that came with it made it hard to find time to flick the bean.

Ryan had it worse. More than 25 people who had previously mocked him now came up, congratulated him, asked for news, and thumped him on the back - and those were just the ones who made themselves known. There could easily have been as many more who kept their change of heart to themselves. The spell gobbled up another of his teachers, Mr. Halliwell, who was an AP American Lit teacher only a few years out of college; mortifyingly, Halliwell congratulated Ryan on his soon-to-be fatherhood in front of the whole class right before the period started. It was of course utterly unprofessional and if Ryan had elected to mention it, Halliwell would have been disciplined or fired; Halliwell wasn't at fault though, and he was merely in vanguard of the oncoming army of annoyingly supportive people, so Ryan didn't make a big deal of it.

In the middle of October came parent/student/teacher conferences. Jess dressed as conservatively as she could, but she was too damned sexy to be anything but an eye-magnet. The oddest thing was that she now looked younger than her own son, in addition to having a completely different coloration, so parents and students she'd known since Ryan was in grade school had no idea who she was; most of them seemed to think she was a senior transfer. The only ones who recognized her without introductions were the ones who'd been snared by the magic, and they came up eagerly, hugged her, shook Ryan's hand, and asked way too many embarrassing questions, often to the mortification of the child or children they had with them.

Ryan's teachers were a decidedly mixed bag. A couple treated them normally but two were extremely cold, looking at mother and son like they were monsters. Mr. Halliwell was enthusiastic but only said a couple of deeply inappropriate things before getting on with the conference (Ryan was doing well in his class so there was little for him to say except Keep up the good work).

Ms. Hegel, though, was a completely different beast. Blonde and curvaceous with a pretty face, she looked like the Platonic ideal of a teacher from a sex fantasy. This was the third year Ryan had been stuck with her for a math teacher, and since it was easily his worst subject, historically these meetings hadn't gone well. Ryan had told Jess that Ms. Hegel was not only among the first of the people in his school to fall under the influence of the spell, but that she was easily the most aggressive person about the whole thing in the school. Hegel had a confessed incest kink and seemed very invested in seeing mother and son become a couple, and she cheerfully dwelt on the most lurid of topics: exactly how far Ryan and Jess had gone, whether they were going to fool around tonight, how good a kisser each thought the other was, what Ryan thought of his mom's body (asked in shocking detail about certain parts), how Jess felt about the idea of carrying Ryan's children, and more. Repeatedly Ryan and Jess tried to redirect her to the matter at hand, but Hegel refused to be diverted. Finally, at the very end of the conference, Jess simply demanded to know how Ryan was doing in her class.

"Oh, he's doing badly," Hegel replied, as though it was a matter of no importance. "At this point it would take a miracle for him to get better than a D, and an F is just as likely. He's out of his depth on this topic."

That had been what both mother and son had assumed, and Jess wasn't happy about it. "There has to be something we can do, we're not even halfway through the semester. He needs a good grade in this class to get into any of the schools we're looking at."

"I'm not sure what to tell you. I can recommend some good tutors, but if I'm being honest, he seems intimidated by this topic, almost frightened by it. He'll never get his grade up with that attitude - but as long as his big, thick cock gets up, why should you care?"

Ryan could have told her that he wasn't intimidated by the topic nearly as much as he was intimidated by her, but he didn't get a chance to speak. Jess leaped in immediately with, "I care because I care about his future. Please give me the contact information for those tutors."

"Sure," Ms. Hegel said, making a note in her computer to do so. "I'll send you the information tonight."

"Thank you," Jess said. "What about extra credit assignments?"

Ms. Hegel opened her mouth, got an unpleasantly shrewd look on her face, and leaned back into her chair to think. "I'm sure I can come up with...something. He's far behind in this class, so I hope you understand that any extra credit assignments will have to be very significant to change the trajectory of his grade."

Neither Jess nor Ryan liked the sound of that, nor did they like the look in Ms. Hegel's eyes when she said it, but Jess could only say, "Just so long as they're related to the topic at hand."

"Of course they will be," Ms. Hegel nodded with a disagreeably predatory smile. "I'll put some things together and let you know."

As they walked out of the school, Ryan muttered, "See what I'm dealing with every day here?"

"I'm sorry, babe," Jess sighed. "Let's just go home and watch a movie."

"I guess we could see if there are any film versions of Oedipus Rex."

She snorted a laugh. "You're such a brat."

Ms. Hegel was true to her word, the recommendations for a tutor were in Jess' inbox by the time they got home. The next day she began contacting them: the first two refused to work with Ryan because of the "disgusting" rumors they'd heard, while the third was already converted by magic and wanted to talk about Ryan and Jess' sex life instead of math. The fourth one on the list was a sweet old retired math teacher named Fred Whitford who seemed never to have heard of Jess or Ryan or even incest and who cheerfully agreed to take Ryan on in video tutoring.

Ryan started tutoring the next evening, and while Fred was enthusiastic about the subject and good at his job, Ryan was distracted by thoughts of his mother and a painful erection that even the thought of complex mathematics couldn't kill. He did his best.

After the session was done, Ryan tracked his mom down on her bed, where she was reading on her tablet about the pros and cons of home birth with a doula rather than a hospital delivery. Ryan sat on the edge of the bed and gave a disconsolate, "Hi, mom."

"How did it go?"

"He seems like a good guy who knows his stuff."

"...but?"

"But I feel like the whole thing is just beyond me. I don't know why. Maybe I have a mental block. I just don't get it."

"I'm sorry, babe," she sighed, setting her tablet down and starting to undo the buttons on her warm flannel pajama top. "Just do what you can and we'll see what Ms. Hegel comes up with."

"I'm worried about that." He threw a look over his shoulder just in time to see his mother bare her breasts. He pulled his own shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor.

"I am too," Jess admitted, tossing the covers aside and pushing her bottoms over her ass. "We'll just deal with it when it comes. Forget about it tonight, let's just suck each other off a lot."

They did suck each other off a lot, then and other times. They did their best to keep it to twice a week and sometimes succeeded, but when they got their mouths on each other, they were never able to keep the other half of the pledge and limit their sessions to a single orgasm a piece - when they made each other come, the made each other come until exhaustion forced them to stop.

Their sexual activities didn't stop or even slow their visions; on the contrary, they were getting more frequent. Once at school Ryan had a vision of Jess boldly coming through the classroom door and the two of them fucking on the teacher's desk in front of everybody, and Jess had the exact same vision except for the fact that hers included the preamble of being driven mad with need at work, getting in her car, and driving to the school; later when they compared notes, they realized they were having it at precisely the same moment. They each had other visions and shared dreams just as perverted or even more so, and so often that discussing them became something of an amusing (and damned erotic) pastime.

The breakthroughs were more dangerous, because they always happened when they were together, either at home or out, and they always made one of the two irrational and sexually aggressive. Once when Ryan was driving them to get some food, Jess became so handsy that there was nothing for it but to let her give him head in the parked car in the restaurant lot; likewise, when they were on their way to see her parents, they had to pull over so Ryan could finger her to not one but three explosive orgasms - the third was so powerful that she squirted all over the passenger side of her own car.
That day was memorable for another reason. An hour after they arrived at her parents' home, the women were chatting in the kitchen while Ryan and his grandfather were watching a Packers game in the den. Everything seemed normal until, during a commercial, his grandpa turned to him and said, "I'm worried about your mother."

"Really?" Ryan said. "Why?"

"I get the sense that you're not treating her the way you ought to."

Instantly suspicious, Ryan said, "I think I'm a good son. I treat her with respect, the same way I've always done."

"'The same way you've always done' is the problem. Are you fucking my daughter right? We both know she needs a steady supply of dick from you if you're going to be happy together, not to mention the fact that you owe us great-grandchildren."

"Ugh, grandpa..."

"I know you're a man now, son, and I know you have what it takes, but she doesn't seem like she's getting the sex you owe her. How often do you two fuck?"

"I am NOT having this conversation with you."

"You are. She's my daughter, you're my grandson, and the children you make will be the light of your lives even more than they will be for your grandmother and me. You need to hurry up and start producing them."

There was no reasoning with a person swallowed by the magic, so all Ryan could do was point to a very ordinary throw and say, "Holy crap, did you see that pass?"

Oddly that seemed to work, and his grandfather didn't bring the subject up again. As he was driving Jess home, he said, "Grandpa's gone. The ceremony got him."

"I know," Jess sighed. "Your grandma very delicately hinted around about it, wondering where grandpa got the notion that we were doing improper things. I told her that someone was spreading weird rumors about it online and he must have seen it there."

"Does grandpa even go online?"

"Absolutely, he's a fixture on the local birdwatching forums, among other things."

"Oh yeah, I guess so. He sometimes sends me Packers fans' YouTube channels too, now that I think of it."

Jess was silent for a moment before asking, "Alright, what did he say?"

"The same thing everyone says: 'When are the babies coming?' He was just a little pushier about it than most. He wants great-grandchildren."

"Wow. Wow. My own father."

"It's not his fault."

"I know. That doesn't make it less oppressive."

They didn't talk much the rest of the way home.

As always, Mycah spent a lot of time at their house, often heading there immediately after school. Lately, though, he had taken to staying just long enough to say hello to Jess when she got home from work and then leaving. Finally, one morning as she roused her son out of bed, she asked Ryan why Mycah seemed so skittish around her. "I assume it's about seeing me naked?"

"Yeah, it's mostly that," Ryan admitted, reluctantly tossing his bedclothes aside. "I mean, he's told me that he doesn't want to be here if something happens between us, which I completely get. I can't imagine how awkward that would be for him. But mostly I think it's the nudity thing. You're pretty much his surrogate mom and it's weird for him."

Mycah's real mother, a lovey woman, died when he was very young, and since then his father had brought a succession of women through Mycah's life, each awful in a new way. Jess had always provided the stability that Mycah's dad and the revolving door of harlots and harridans could not.

"I don't like it," she sighed. "He needs to be over here just as much as you need him here, especially now. He's such a good kid, I don't want to drive him off from the only stable place he has just because I don't like wearing clothes much anymore. I'll have to do something."

And that was why, when Jess arrived home that afternoon and saw that Mycah was doing homework with Ryan, she asked Mycah to stay for a bit. From there she went into her room, took off every stitch of clothing, and strolled back into the kitchen where the boys were working. Mycah glanced, squawked, and slapped his hands over his eyes. She exchanged a silent smile with her son and said, "Mycah, look at me."

"But you're..."

"Naked, yes. Stop covering your eyes and just look at me."

"...do I have to?"

"Yes." Reluctantly, Mycah lowered his hand and forced his eyes open. "Good. Now, this is my house and I want to be comfortable in my own house. Right now, that means it's very much clothing-optional around here. This is also a place where you've always felt comfortable, and I don't want that to change. OK?"

Mycah was desperately struggling to keep his eyes pointed above her neck. "OK, but I'd be a lot more comfortable if you weren't naked."

Ryan laughed, and Jess put her hands on her hips in semi-mock-sternness. "Mycah, have you ever seen a naked woman before?"

"Of course I have!"

She knew that - Mycah was very popular with the girls, and Ryan had told her that he seemed intent on banging his way through the basketball dance line this year. Not only that, Mycah's father had taken him to a strip club and gotten him several lap dances on his 18th birthday. All that was added to the fact that kids these days grew up with the internet, where no form of knowledge was forbidden or even difficult to access. "Do I have some weird body part that other women don't?"

"Um...no..."

"See these? These are nipples, you and almost everyone else in the world has them too. I've got a butt, same as the rest of the world. I have boobs and a vagina, same as every other cis woman you've seen and the same as half the rest of the human race. I'm not unique. So why are you so nervous?"

"Because you're Mrs. M."

She smirked. "Did you think I didn't have all these things before you saw them?"

"No, but..."

"But?"

"But yours are better than anyone else's."

"Well, thank you, that's a very sweet thing to say. But nudity is perfectly natural. I don't think being naked in front of you is a big deal. Ryan doesn't think it's a big deal. If you stop acting like it's a big deal then it won't be a big deal to you either. Can you do that for me?"

Mycah didn't relax, but he said, "I can try."

"Good," she nodded.

"I'll probably start wearing less too," Ryan chimed in, though that was no big deal since he and Mycah had been naked in front of each other ever since they started having to change for gym.

"Mycah, you can strip down too if it will make you more comfortable."

"I swear to you, there's no way that would make me more comfortable."

She couldn't help but chuckle. "Suit yourself. And look at me all you want, I don't mind. I know how guys are. Don't worry if you get an erection either, it's perfectly natural - eighteen year old boys spend more time with hardons than they do without."

"Damn Mrs. M..." Mycah sounded like he wanted to die of embarrassment.

"Well, she's got us there," Ryan chuckled. "Come on, bro, she's just human. She farts and poops and gets stinky armpits like the rest of us."

"There goes my mystique," Jess said dryly. "You boys hungry? Want grilled cheese?"

At that Mycah perked up. "Oh yeah, your grilled cheese is the best. Can you add tomatoes?"

"And bacon?" Ryan put in.

"Bacon, cheese, and tomato sandwiches for three, coming right up."

Mycah stuck around for dinner and an hour after, finishing homework. He took Jess' invitation to look at her, but by the time he left he did seem much more comfortable and more like himself around her. Jess did notice as he left that he had an erection almost as big as her son's.

The shock therapy worked. Mycah couldn't keep his eyes off Jess' bare body the first few times he visited after that, but he quickly got used to seeing everything she had. He still looked and still got erections, but the fact that Jess acted exactly the same as she ever had before with the exception of not wearing clothes took away most of the sexiness of it. Ryan still wore jeans out of courtesy so his friend wouldn't have to look at his hard-on for the whole time he was there, but overall, the situation had been defused for the moment.

What worked less well was the tutor. Both Mr. Whitford and Ryan did their best and worked very hard, There was improvement, but too little and too slow to get to a decent grade before the end of the semester.

Ms. Hegel still hadn't told them what the extra credit assignment was, and she responded to all questions about it with, "I'm still putting it together." Ryan didn't like the sinister grin she wore when she said that.

The divorce proceedings went smoothly. Jess engaged the services of a well-respected divorce attorney named Michael Horowitz, while Paul went with a large firm specializing in civil and family law and was assigned a bright young lawyer named Robert Strong. Things started normally for an amicable split (or at least that was what Horowitz told her) and were going well; however, about a week before Halloween, the spell got to Strong and suddenly he was bending over backwards to give away all of Paul's belongings; it was so bad that Jess instructed Horowitz to make things more equitable for her husband. Horowitz was baffled by Strong's shift in sympathies and behavior, calling it "the God damnedest thing I've ever seen in my life," and only Jess' pleading kept him from reporting Strong to the Wisconsin Bar Association. Regardless, she and her lawyer worked together to make sure the thing was fair and was on the fastest track the courts would permit.

The observation Ryan had made when told of the impending divorce still held true: it didn't hurt. She still loved Paul, but the magic was working on her so that the love she felt had become the soft, sentimental glow that one attaches to the first love of youth, the reminiscence that wistfully recalls the exciting rush of emotions but recognizes that the relationship could never have worked long-term. Paul was a wonderful man and she wanted the best for him, but he belonged to a part of her life that was over and done with. She couldn't get worked up about him any more than she could the boy who gave her her first kiss in 7th grade. For better or worse, Ryan was her one and only man now.

Around Halloween

Halloween came on a Sunday that year. On October 29th, two days before the big day, Ryan and Jess went out to a nice, trendy Indian restaurant downtown, a fair distance from their house. They approached the hostess and asked for a table for two, to which the hostess replied, "Do you have a reservation?"

"I didn't know we needed one," Ryan confessed. "How long is the wait?"

"I'm afraid we're booked solid tonight. You can wait to see if anyone cancels, if you'd like."

Turning to his mother, Ryan asked, "Did you want to wait?"

"I'm hungry now," Jess sighed. "It's too bad, I was looking forward to trying the place, the reviews are off the hook."

Ryan arched an eyebrow. "Wow. That expression doesn't mean what you think it means at all anymore."

"I'm 44 years old, babe. I may look 18, but my idiom didn't get younger when my body did." Her statement made the hostess look at her like she was insane.

"Let's get out of here, babe," Ryan told her, and turned to the door -

"HEY!" came a shouted male voice behind them. "Is that - wow, it is!"

Turning back toward the dining room, they saw an Indian man in a chef's costume rushing toward them with a look of delight on his face. "Ryan and Jessica McCullen, in my restaurant! This is amazing!"

Mother and son looked at each other to silently confirm that neither of them knew the guy, but that didn't matter when the guy knew them. As the man arrived and began pumping his hand, Ryan said, "Um, hi?"

"I'm Bahadur Prasad," he said, switching his hand-pumping to Jess. "I can't believe you chose to eat here. That's quite an honor!"

"We were going to eat here, but we didn't know we needed reservations," Ryan said.

A look of irritation crossed Bahadur's face as he turned to the hostess. "Mr. and Mrs. McCullen are always welcome here. They are to be seated at the next open table and their meal is always on the house."

Mr. and Mrs. McCullen, Ryan thought, a smile spreading across his face. It's technically still true because she's married to dad, but maybe the magic will make it possible for her to be my wife someday too. That sounds like heaven.

"I see," the hostess said. "I didn't realize, Mr. Prasad. We'll ready a table for you, it should only be a couple of minutes."

Bahadur chatted with them for a couple more minutes, suggesting the best dishes in the place and the best wine to pair with them. The last part was odd, because while Ryan looked old enough to drink he was certainly not, and Jess was more than old enough but looked too young. Finally he had to return to his post in the kitchen, at which point the hostess asked, "I'm sorry, I don't recognize you. Are you celebrities or..."

"No," Jess said. "Not even a little. We're just people."

The hostess looked confused and asked Ryan, "And you're not a pro athlete or something?"

"No, I'm just a high school student."

"And I'm his mother," Jess put in.

The hostess got a knowing look, obviously concluding that she was being fed a line of bullshit. "I understand, Ma'am. Well, whenever you come here, we'll find a table for you."

"Thank you," Ryan said, electing not to enlarge the hostess' knowledge. "We appreciate it."

A couple minutes later the hostess seated them, and they ordered as soon at the waitress came by, asking for everything that Bahadur had recommended, including wine. No proof of age was requested, as word had apparently filtered down to the serving staff of their special status. The waitress plainly had no idea who they were, but she seemed to be impressed that half a dozen diners crowded around to congratulate them and wish them luck over the course of the evening.

Interruptions aside, it was quite the romantic meal. It wasn't that either of them intended it to be that, but the ambiance of the place and the wine combined to make the relaxed and flirtatious. It also wasn't the first flirty meal they'd shared recently: since the dinner on the patio where Jess had decided to hold out against the blessing for as long as she could, their meals together had become more and more romantic. At home, cuddling during meals had become commonplace, as well sexual talk that had none of their previous clinical detachment - in fact, more than once in the past couple of weeks, their dessert had been an evening of using their mouths to make each other come and swallowing copious amounts of sexual fluids.

Obvious they couldn't go that far here (although each of them privately suspected that if they did, Bahadur would cover for them). They could talk dirty in low tones, and they did so: Ryan said, "My cock is so hard for you right now. I can't wait to get your slutty lips around it." Jess replied, "There's nothing in the world I love more that swallowing your cum, babe. And just think, someday all that cum will be going right up into my very fertile pussy." It escalated from there.

Words weren't all of it, either. Jess was wearing the sexiest dress she'd every owned, one that showed off her new figure to a serious degree, and once while they were discussing the flavors in the goat malabar, Jess casually pulled down the top of her dress so that her left breast was fully exposed. To Ryan's delight, she left if that way for a couple of minutes after people at nearby tables started to notice and point it out. She eventually put it away, but after a few minutes Ryan stood to go to the bathroom; on the way he stopped for a long, extremely passionate kiss and slipped his hand inside her dress to play with the hard nipple that had been exposed. Jess had never behaved this way in public with anyone, not even Paul; Ryan would never have considered it before. Now though it seemed utterly natural, and neither of them could think of a reason why anyone would object.

The fact that the meal was comped meant that Jess could put the money she'd intended to pay for dinner toward a very large tip. This was such a good experience that they'd probably be coming back here pretty often, so they might as well leave a good impression among the staff.

On the way back to her car they strolled like a young couple in love, with her leaning against him and his arm around her shoulders in the cool autumn air. The meal had been perfect and both of them were horny - tonight would be an evening spent 69ing. Ryan, however, had another idea. "Babe," he said in the confident, commanding voice that made his mother's pussy drip, "I need your mouth."

"Oh really?' she chuckled, snuggling even closer to him. "How about I suck your big, fat, juicy cock the whole way home then?"

"I don't want road head," he said, leading her off the sidewalk and into the passage between two buildings. "I want alley head."

"You're crazy," she laughed. "Most people aren't under the spell yet. If we got caught we'd go to jail."

That didn't seem to matter to him, because he took her barely thirty feet away from the sidewalk and then pressed her against the wall. When he kissed her she responded eagerly, sucking his tongue as eagerly as she would soon suck his cock, fellating his mouth. He responded by squeezing her tits through her dress, drawing a whimper from her. After a couple of minutes, one of his hands went down over her hip, under her dress, and straight to the waistband of her panties. In spite of the desire for privacy that she had expressed not long before, she was helpless before his touch - she spread her legs for her son and soon he was finger-fucking her there in public; not long after that, she was rolling her hips and fucking his fingers as much as they were fucking her.

She came quickly - Ryan always made her come quickly - and then pulled his fingers from her cunt and his tongue from her mouth. "I want your mouth. Now."

There was no disobeying that tone, and any reservations she might have had flew right out of her head. When her son ordered, she obeyed. Eagerly she sank into a crouch, freed his cock in a few swift moments, and buried it so far down her throat that his balls bounced off her chin. She focused her whole being on giving her man the best blowjob she could - and nobody in the world could suck Ryan's cock half as good as she could. From root to head to balls, she sucked every bit of him in turn, as happy as she'd ever been in her life.

Jess was wholly focused on his dick, but Ryan maintained enough situational awareness to notice that two young couples had stopped at the mouth of the alley and were watching - and not just watching, because they all had their phones out and were capturing the moment for posterity. At the moment he could think of no conceivable negative consequences from an act of public lewdness with his own mother being caught on video and probably uploaded to who-knew-where, so he smiled for their cameras and turned his focus back where it belonged.

That is, until three minutes later when the whoop of a police siren startled Ryan and his girl out of their erotic reverie. A squad car rolling down the alley from where their voyeurs had been a moment ago, its spotlight on them. "Shit!" Jess said, the sex compulsion fading from both of them in an instant. "What did I say would happen?"

Ryan was hastily tucking his wiener away and regretting a series of recent decisions (it hadn't been his fault, it had definitely been a breakthrough, but that didn't change the fact that they were probably about to be in deep shit). "Maybe he's under the spell?" he whispered, knowing the odds were not in his favor. "Then he'd just let us go."

"If he were, he wouldn't have stopped us," Jess said, hastily wiping the drool off her face with her fingers. Her makeup was undoubtedly ruined, but that was the least of her concerns. Public lewdness was a misdemeanor in Wisconsin, but incest was a whole-ass felony. They were in so much fucking trouble.
It took an interminable period for the officer to finally step out of the car. He was a black man of about 30 years, physically average but bulky and imposing because of his bulletproof vest; his badge read Jackson. "Hello, folks," he said in that perfectly neutral tone that police adopt when they're about to arrest someone. "How are you this evening?"

"Fine, officer," both McCullens answered simultaneously.

"So, it looked like you were having a pretty good time there," he said. "You know that sex in public is a crime, right?"

"Yes, officer," they answered.

"May I ask your names?"

"I'm Ryan McCullen."

"I'm Jessica McCullen."

Any hope that the cop might be under the spell were dashed as he showed no recognition whatsoever. "Alright, so you two are married? I see you got a ring on your finger there."

Jessica closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm married. He's not."

"What relationship is he to you?" Jackson asked. "Brother-in-law, cousin..."

Another deep breath. "He's my son."

There's a universal and distinct facial expression cops get when they know they're being lied to, and Jackson adopted that expression now as he gazed at a woman who barely looked adult and the mid-20s looking guy she claimed to have given birth to. "Alright, so, I got it on my dash cam, just so you know. With that in mind, do you have any kind of explanation? Anything that makes this not what it looked like?"

"No, officer," they answered, both trying to sink into the ground but finding it distressingly solid.

"Are you over 18, sir?" the cop asked.

"I'm 18," Ryan answered.

The officer turned to Jess. "Are you over 18, ma'am?"

"Yes, officer. My son is 18, so I must be older than that, right?"

"You sure about that?"

"Yes."

"You folks have IDs?" Moving slowly so as not to suddenly develop an acutely fatal case of lead poisoning, mother and son produced their driver's licenses and handed them over. Jackson looked them over, then stared at Jessica's hard before saying, "Is this ID yours, ma'am?"

"Yes. I've had some cosmetic work done."

Jackson stared at her silently, the same way any cop would stare when asked to swallow an absurdity. "Do you know how old this ID says you are?"

"Forty-four."

Again the stare before he said, "Could you both please face the wall standing a foot away and place your hands against it." Neither resisted, and soon they were both frisked and cuffed. "Alright, I'm going to my car for a few minutes. Just relax."

Relax. Right, that was going to happen. As soon as Jackson was back in his car, Ryan softly said, "Sorry about this, mom. I just couldn't help it."

"I know, babe. Neither could I. I love you."

"I love you too." Pause. "Stupid fucking magic. I want to fly back to Ranu Ratu and kick Jake and Adouwe's asses."

Jess smiled without humor. "They're afraid you'll curse them. Maybe you can do it from here."

"Believe me, if I knew how, I'd have done that already."

"I guess we'll have time in prison to figure it out."

There was nothing to say to that. They waited in silence for almost ten minutes until Officer Jackson reappeared with their IDs. Without preamble he said, "The system confirms that the holders of these Ids are mother and son, which would make you liable for incest charges as well as Lewd and Lascivious Behavior. Are you still claiming this ID is yours?"

Jess could do nothing but say, "Yes."

Jackson said, "You are both under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say and and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provide for you. If you decide to answer questions now without an attorney present, you will still have the right to..."

Both Ryan and Jess were looking at the ground at the beginning of the Miranda warning, but Jackson simply stopped dead in the middle of a sentence and didn't speak again. They raised their eyes and saw something they did not expect: the police officer's face had gone almost completely blank. Mother and son exchanged a worried look before Ryan said, "Officer? Are you alright?"

Jackson neither spoke nor moved a muscle.

"Officer? Are you OK?" Jess asked, now genuinely worried that Jackson was in the midst of a stroke or a heart attack or something - the fix they were in was bad enough without a DA adding a charge for murdering a cop to the heap. "Babe, I don't think he's OK."

"Fuck," Ryan muttered, then called out to passersby on the street, "HEY! CAN SOMEONE CALL 911? I THINK THIS COP IS HAVING A STROKE!"

Before any reply could come from the citizenry, Jackson's face suddenly unfroze and broke into a broad smile. "Oh, hey, sorry about giving you a hard time. I didn't recognize you at first. It's really an honor to meet you."

Ryan and Jess exchanged a look. Jess stammered, "Yeah, ok, thanks...for...all your hard work, officer..."

"Oh hell, let me get those cuffs off you folks," Jackson said cheerfully, moving around behind them. "If I'd have known it was you, I never would have stopped you. You want to finish up what you were doing?"

For the first time in weeks, Ryan's cock was fully limp. Fear, the boner-killer. "No, we're good. We, uh...we aren't under arrest, then?"

"Arrest?" Jackson laughed, as though the idea was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "Of course not! Oh, hey, let me grab your licenses, be right back."

Jess rubbed her wrists as the cop scampered back to his car. "So that's what it looks like when the magic eats someone's brain."

"I was wondering," Ryan said. "That blessing really is working overtime to protect us."

Jackson returned to them with their IDs. "Here you go. This really was an honor for me, thank you. You folks heading home to make a baby?"

"Probably not tonight, no," Ryan said.

"Alright, well, have a great night you two," Jackson said, looking a bit disappointed that no breeding was on the schedule for the evening. "Take care!"

The squad car drove off, leaving the pair to stare after it. Ryan shook his head and said, "I wonder what else we could get away with around here?"

"We are not going to find out! Come on, let's get in the car." She tugged her son's arm toward the street. "Oh, you still want road head?"

"Considering that my balls just got scared up into my lungs, gonna pass."

The next morning, Kim listened to the story as she drank coffee with her mother. Jess had told it to illustrate the power of the spell, but Kim took away another message: "You seriously couldn't wait to get home to suck his dick?"

Jess sighed. "It was a breakthrough. We don't get to control those."

"But he was the one who had it, right? You couldn't have told him to keep it in his pants for half an hour?"

"Well...no, not really."

"We you having a breakthrough thing too?"

"No, it's just..." She stopped, blushing red.

"Just what?"

Jess shifted uncomfortably. "He's got this tone of voice that...just...turns me to jelly. I can't resist it when he uses it."

Kim looked baffled. "What tone of voice?"

"Haven't you noticed it? He must have used it to you since this all started."

"Ummmm..."

"Come on, don't tell me you haven't heard it. It's the tone that that tells you he's in complete command and you need to obey him."

There was a long pause before Kim said, "That's got to be a 'you' thing."

"It might be," Jess admitted. "Now I'm curious. Want to try an experiment?"

"I mean...you know what, fine. Let's do it."

Jess texted Ryan to come to the kitchen, and a few moments later they heard the elephant-thud of his feet descending the stairs (ever since he was little he was seldom capable of going anywhere silently). He entered the kitchen, said good morning to both the girls, and then asked what was up.

"We want to do an experiment," Jess told him. "You know that really sexy voice you use?"

"Ummm...no?"

"Yes you do," Jess said immediately. "The one you use when you want me to do something sexy?"

Ryan thought. "Ummm...kind of? I guess I never thought about it. Is my voice really different then?"

"Gah, I can't believe you don't know," Jess said. "Like how you told me what to do last night when we were in the alley. Can you say something in that tone?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Tell me to do something."

"Tell you...fine. Go get me some orange juice."

"No! Don't say it like that! That was nothing!"

"Well can you get me some orange juice anyway? You know what, never mind, I'm standing up already, I'll go get it."

"No!" Jess snapped. "This is a scientific experiment, you're not getting juice until we figure this out."

Ryan grumbled something inaudible, then said, "Look, I don't know what you want from me here."

"It's the voice you use when you tell me to do something sexy, you know. When you give me a command?"

"Are you saying you want me to give you a sex order right here?"

"No!" Jess said. "Just use the voice."

"Wait," Kim said. "If it's part of the magic, maybe it can only be used to tell her what to do sexually."

"Maybe," Jess said, mouth screwed up at an odd angle due to her focus on the problem. "Maybe you should tell me to do something sexual after all."

Ryan stared at his mother, then at his sister, then back at his mother. "What? Right here in front of Kim?"

"This is, like, for science or whatever," Kim said. "Tell her what to do. She'll try to resist. If she can't, you can stop her before she starts."

"This is so damned embarrassing," he muttered. "Do I have to?"

"Yes," Jess said. "Do it to me, I'm the baseline of the experiment. If it works on me, try it on Kim."

"Oh now hold on - "

"It's just for science, you big baby," Kim said impatiently. "It probably won't even work on me, but if it does, stop me before I do anything gross."

"This is the stupidest thing," Ryan said. He paused, took a couple of deep breaths, and then locked eyes with Jess and said, "On your knees in front of me like a good girl."

Jess tried to stop herself, but she only managed to hold herself back for a few seconds before she slid off the chair and knelt before him, eyes shining, cheeks red with desire. Breathily, she asked, "What next?"

"Open my jeans. Get my dick out." He barely had time to finish the sentence before her fingers flew to his fly, undid the buttons, yanked down the zip - "OK, that's enough, stop," he said - but she didn't. She reached into his pants and pulled out a magnificent cock, fully erect, head purple and glistening with precum -

"Ack! Put it away!" Kim cried, averting her eyes. Jess shook herself, blushed even deeper, and guiltily tucked his amazing, perfect cock back into his clothes, muttering that she was sorry. "OK, so obviously you felt that. Did you try to fight it?"

"As hard as I could, but I didn't have a chance of resisting."

Kim nodded, the fixed her brother with a death stare. "Now me, but if I react and you don't stop me I'm going to cut your balls off. Understood?"

Ryan nodded - the last thing he wanted was to engage in sex of any kind with his sister. "I promise. Ready?"

Kim took a deep breath and nodded. "Hit me."

Eyes still on hers, he said, "Girl, I want you on your knees with my cock in your throat. Now."

His sister stared back for long seconds before turning to her mother and saying, "I told you it was just you."

Ryan gave a relieved sigh. "Alright, if there's nothing else, Imma head back up to my room."

"I'll bring you juice in a couple minutes," Jess called after him.

When he was gone, Kim reluctantly admitted, "I would never in a million years say this to him, but...when you got him out of his pants, NGL, that thing looks amazing. No wonder you can't resist it."

"So you can understand how what happened last night, happened. He got hit with the magic, told me what to do, and I did it."

"I still don't understand really. I guess it's just another thing I have to accept. His dick is...damn. If I were in your place and I'd sucked it a bunch of times..."

Jess arched an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I'd already be knocked up with our first magic baby. No way I could have that in my mouth and not everywhere else too."

An absolutely devious look passed over Jessica's face, the sort of expression she wore when she was about to tease one of her kids to the point of implosion. "Kimberly Sarah McCullen, do you want to fuck your brother?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The way you're talking, it sounds like you're jealous of me."

"Oh for God sake no! I was just noting the fact that his dick is objectively perfect."

Voice dropping into a husky whisper, Jess asked, "And what do you want to do with that perfect dick, Kim? Tell me, I won't get jealous."

"Oh will you PLEASE shut up?"

"Do you want to suck it or ride it first?"

"GGGGAAAAAHHHH!!!"

"Oh, just think, maybe we can be rushed to the hospital side-by-side to deliver his babies..."

Kim slammed her hands over her ears, leaped to her feet, and fled from the room yelling, "LA LA LA LA LA..."

Jess watched her go, chasing her with peals of laughter. It was mean of her, but she always had loved needling her children.

The next Sunday Kim headed back to school, presumably still bearing psychic wounds that would result in massive therapy bills. As soon as they were along, Ryan and Jess were all over each other, gobbling each other up like kids would gobble all the candy they would gather that day. They kept clothes by them in the living room so they could dress quickly if a trick-or-treater rang the door; only a few did, and since the McCullens never got big crowds of kids at their door, each one that did show up got two full-sized Snickers, two full-sized bags of Skittles, and two full-sized Twix.

Once it got dark and the kids stopped coming, they shared a simple dinner and spent the rest of the evening and deep into the night with their heads in each other's crotches.

The next day, something happened that was both inevitable and shocking. Ryan had just made it to his locker, being ridiculed and mocked on the way by those who knew him and those who were strangers, and he was just taking off his coat when he heard the voice of the very last person in school he wanted to see. "Ryan? Can we talk?"

With a sigh, he turned to face none other than Jade Oleson. Jade was his former girlfriend, but they broke up early in the summer when he caught her riding the cock of her mom's boyfriend; she had not been happy with this, and since school started she had spread the nastiest rumors about him and his mom, some of which were do disgusting he couldn't stand to think of them. Therefore, his voice was iron-hard when he replied, "What?"

To his great surprise, she launched herself at him and wrapped her arms around him in a ferocious hug. "I just wanted to tell you how happy I am for you and your mom. It's so amazing!"

Wary of a trap, he said, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! It's so good you broke up with me when you did, I would never want to get between you two. Are you going to start on the first baby now or wait until graduation?"

With anyone else, he would simply have accepted this sudden shift as the workings of the ceremony, but Jade had been so venomous and hateful that there was a significant chance that this was an ambush. Best to be very cautious indeed. "Listen, my mom and I aren't a couple, you know that - "

Jade laughed in the carefree, infectious way she had when she heard something really funny. "Don't be a goof, of course you are. You're going to have a bunch of beautiful children and they'll be awesome, just like their daddy and mommy!"

"Yeah, thing is - "

"Jeez Jade," said cheerleader Ashanti Stokes as she walked past. "Don't hug the nasty motherfucker, you might catch incest germs."

Jade whirled, her face red with fury, and snarled, "What the fuck did you just say, bitch? I will rip out your ovaries and staple them to your eyeballs!"

Jade and Ashanti were close friends, so Ashanti looked shocked - and then pissed. She shoved Jade, Jade shoved back, and all of a sudden Ryan was two feet from a serious fight. Apparently Jade really was a convert. He quickly locked his locker and hurried away as teachers began to swarm toward the fracas.

The next Saturday evening, Mycah was busy and Jess was out to an obligatory work party. Ryan was alone, drifting between Instagram and pirated movies, when Kim texted him.

hey <donkey emoji> <top hat emoji>

what <up arrow> <poop emoji> 4 <brain emoji> <brain emoji>



ok hurtful

how u

tough week



how u



getting ready to <party hat emoji>

lucky



i haven't been 2 a <party hat emoji> since skool started



mom sed that

suckz

sorry

thanks



whats <up arrow>



not much

not true

i feel gross

y



got weird?

dont no how 2 ask

just ask



ive seen u at ur worst already



guess u have

so whats the?



ok here goes kljhkljh

A photo came through of Kim in her dorm room. A pretty Hispanic girl was behind her with her head on Kim's shoulder, and they were both grinning.

this is my friend rose

i told her bout u

she wants a pic

can u?

send it to her <phone emoji, followed by number>

Sure np



Ryan took a selfie headshot - he even smiled - and sent it to her.

like a diff pic

ok like...



u no

no



There was a long pause, then:

can u send me a nude

of who



u. dumb<donkey emoji>

i tol her abt <looking eyes emoji> u naked

now she wont shut up about it

need a pic to keep her quiet

not fair



huh?

she wants nude but didnt send 1 first



u no the etiquette



There was a brief delay, and then another picture came in. It was Rosa completely naked in Kim's room, body half-turned so he could see her tits and the profile of her delicious ass as well. Damn, that was a good-looking young woman.

there

send pic to her

dont want that <poop emoji> on my <phone emoji>

A deal was a deal. He paused to text a few lines to Rosa's number:

ur fuckin hot af



so sexy



give me sec



He was already naked so it was just a matter of getting off his bed and moving to the mirror. Of course he was rock-hard like he pretty much always was these days, so he took a few from various angles, selected the best one, and sent it to Rosa; he also sent it to his mom with the hope that it would liven up what she said would be a dull event. There was no immediate reply from either of them, so he texted Rosa:

what do u think



ur amazing so hot

want 2 hook up?

sry but im in a relationship



aw <series of sad and crying emojis>

ull always have my pic 2 remind u



<four ROFL emojis>

ur srsly gorg

take care

u 2



He went back to what he was doing, but only a few minutes later his mom sent him a video of her in a bathroom, the dress she wore tonight pulled down to bare both breasts, her free hand squeezing and tugging her right nipple. "You got me so fucking hot with that pic, babe," she said quietly. "You'd better take care of me good when I get home."

He replied via text:

I tuk that pic becuz kim asked



no!!!! really????

yeah



it was 4 a friend



u sure?

yeah friend was there



sent it to her #



friend sent nude too



she cute? be honest

yeah rly cute



do u think kim will keep a copy of the pic?

4 all i no she's fingering herself 2 it rt now



not that shed ever tell me



fuck thats hot

i hope she does

ur a naughty lil slut



duz it make u hot 2 think abt me & her



it does

it shouldnt but it does

im heading home. u better b ready

imma get out ur toys so u can be airtite when i fuck ur mouth



fuck fuck fuck

im hurrying

Several days larter came a morning was a challenging one for Jess. During the commute, when she was actively driving, she had an intense vision about being seven months pregnant and getting dogged by Ryan while telling him that her OB/GYN appointment that morning told her that their first child, a son, was perfect in every way. When the vision ended she was still driving but she had no idea where she was - she had to use Waze to get to work. Once she was there, she had to deal with the receptionist, Ashley, whom the spell had converted overnight; a chatterbox and a real people person, she asked some very intrusive questions before Jess could tear herself away.

Just before lunch she had a Zoom meeting with an important client. He seemed troubled and reticent through much of it, but of course she didn't ask; unfortunately, halfway through the meeting, he told her. He took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and said, "Mrs. McCullen, there's something I need to address with you."

Jess didn't like the sound of that. "Alright, how can I help you?"

"I have been hearing some...unsettling rumors about you. And your son."

She sighed heavily. "Of course you have. Before you ask, they aren't true."

"Then why are people talking about you?"

"I wish I knew. I don't know who started the rumor or why - it's not as though we have enemies or anything, we're just people. But someone decided to ruin our lives. I don't even know how it's spreading, but it seems like half the people I know think I'm some kind of monster. And as bad as that is, it's worse for my son, because kids are savage; I'd have him switch schools if I thought anyplace else in the city would be any better."

There. A nice, impassioned lie for the cause.

"I see," the man said, plainly not fully convinced but apparently placated for the moment. "It's a good thing you said that, because if it were true I could no longer in good conscience work with you or with your company. I trust I'm making myself understood."

"You are, sir. Is there anything else I can say or do to put your mind at ease on this topic?"

"No, I suppose not. Now, about agenda item C..."

Her nerves were jangled and remained so for the rest of the meeting; after it was done, she splashed cold water on her face several times, had to redo her makeup, and just got back to her desk when her phone beeped with a message. She checked it and was surprised to see it was from Ms. Hegel.

Hello Mrs McCullen. When you have a moment I would like to discuss Ryan's grade situation and the extra credit assignment I've devised for him. Please contact me at your earliest convenience.

Hello Ms Hegel, I am available now if that works



May I call?

Yes



Ten seconds later her phone rang, Jess answered, and brief pleasantries were exchanged. Once the necessaries were out of the way, Jess asked, "So tell me about this assignment."

"It's complicated. It would be easier if I could show the both of you face-to-face."

"So you haven't discussed it with Ryan?"

"Not yet. I decided to talk to you first."

"When would you like to meet?"

"Are you both free this evening?"

"I'm sure we are. What time would you like us at the school? I can leave work as early as four today."

"I was thinking more along the lines of after dinner, so there's no need to leave work early. And being at the school that late is a tremendous inconvenience for everyone. Why don't you both come to my place? We can discuss it in comfort."

"Alright, if that's what you'd like. Seven-thirty?"

"Perfect. I'll send you my address."

That was weird as hell. I think Ryan is at lunch now, I better call him.

Ryan had been back at school for over two months now, and it had been a shitburger the entire time. None of that even put a dent on today, because over the weekend at least one of the people who had videoed his mom swallowing his cock had posted it, and someone at school had found it last night. By the time school began today, pretty much every student there had seen it.

And that was bad.

In fact, it was so bad that people were discussing it right in front of him. Mr. Halliwell, his third period teacher, had taken time to discuss how oral sex could be a beautiful expression of love and commitment between two people who cared very much about each other; this had nothing to do with American Literature (except in certain specific instances) but there it was.

The only saving grace, if there was one, was that there was heated debate whether the people in the video were actually Ryan and his mom. The lighting wasn't the best and the video-takers had been a distance away. Both Ryan and his mom were very attractive people, but not so visually distinctive as to have the identities be obvious under those conditions - the most unique thing about either of them, his mother's shocking figure, had been obscured by the fact that she was crouching. Besides, the way she'd held her head during most of the video meant that her face was often obscured. Both pro- and anti-incest camps in the school were split more or less down the middle as to whether it really was them, so they spent as much time arguing with each other as they did making his life miserable.

During lunch (which he was eating alone, it being a day that Mycah was sitting with the basketball team), his mom called. "Hi there, hello."

"Hi babe. How's your day?"

"Oooohhh, so bad. I'll explain later. How's yours?"

"Wobbly. But hey, listen, I got a call from Ms. Hegel just now."

"Oh yeah?"

"She says she's settled on an extra credit assignment for you."

"Great." It wasn't great, because he was fairly sure he wouldn't have the mathematical skill to accomplish it. "Why did she call you?"

"Because she wants to tell both of us about it after school - this evening, in fact. At her place."

"OK, am I the only one hearing alarm bells?"

"You are not. But we'll talk about it when I get home. I love you."

"I love you too."

Ryan ended the call and was just tucking his phone back into his pocket when someone a couple tables behind him shouted "MOTHERFUCKER!" and pelted him in the back of the head with a half-eaten corn dog.

His last class of the day was with Ms. Hegel, and he stayed after to try to speak to her about what was coming. She simply smiled, told him that she'd love to stay and talk but she had to rush off, said she was looking forward to seeing him that evening, and walked out.

Ryan and Jess discussed it after she got home, but there was little information to go on aside from the bad feeling they shared. Ryan had been working with his tutor and was now turning in work that usually straddled the line between C minus and D plus, but he wasn't going to dig himself out of the hole with grades like that; even if he did manage to scrounge a D in the class, it would still be a blemish on his transcript that would keep him from getting into any of the really good schools he had his heart set on. He needed at least a B+ (and preferably better) and there was absolutely no way on God's green Earth that he was getting it without biting the bullet and doing whatever was offered.

After dinner (and a brief round of oral sex to settle their nerves) they got into Jess' car, although by now Ryan driving was such a given that neither thought of it anymore. Ms. Hegel lived out of the district so it was about a twenty-five minute drive to her place, and neither spoke much on the way. That bad feeling had gotten strong enough that neither could make much chit-chat, so the drive was mostly in silence.

As it turned out, Ms. Hegel lived in a condominium development that looked more expensive than a public school teacher should be able to afford. They found her address with some difficulties (there were cul-de-sacs and streets with annoyingly similar names so that Waze and Google Maps both got a bit befuddled), but they were only a few minutes late getting to her door. Jess checked her makeup, they performed last-minute straightening of each other's clothes, marched nervously up, and rang the bell.

Only moments later, the door was opened by Ryan's math teacher, though Ryan had never seen her this way before. She had obviously spent quite some time on her makeup, and her glistening red lips looked plumper and sexier than they ever had in school. She was wearing a clingy leopard print tank top with spaghetti straps that revealed both cleavage and navel, and it was obvious from the bullet tipping each breast that she was not wearing a bra. Below she had the skinniest skinnies ever sewn, and on her feet were bright red fuck-me stilettos. "Hi, Ryan, hi Jessica. I'm so glad you could make it. Please, come inside. Welcome to my home."

"Thank you, Ms. Hegel," Ryan said, cautiously stepping inside; his mother followed. From what they could see, Ms. Hegel's taste in decorating ran to a kind of boho chic, deliberately retro vibe, somehow elegant instead of kitschy.

"Oh please, I left Ms. Hegel at school," the teacher chuckled. "Outside those walls, I'm just Faith, to both of you please. May I take your coats?"

Mother and son doffed their outwear and Faith hung them in the closet. "Now, if you'll come with me into the living room. Sit down, make yourselves comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?"

Jess said no thanks, but Ryan asked for water. They sat down next to each other on the sofa, and Jess raised her eyebrow at her man; Ryan responded with a Don't ask me shrug. It was obvious to both of them that the other shared their mutual unease.

Faith returned in moments with an ice-cold glass of water for Ryan, then sat down criss-cross-applesauce on an armchair opposite them. "Wow, I am so glad to have you both here. It's amazing, you two in my house! I'm very excited."

Faith had been one of the first ensnared in the spell on the city, so her giddiness was understandable. Unfortunately, son and mother both felt like it presaged the dropping of a proverbial other shoe. Jess' smile was just a bit uneasy as she replied, "You have a lovely home. Now that I see you away from work, I can tell this vibe suits you perfectly, like an extension of your personality."

"Yeah, it's great," Ryan added, keeping it simple so as not to expose his utter ignorance of interior decorating.

"Thank you!" Faith said, obviously very pleased by the praise from two people she apparently valued very highly.

She asked if they found the place OK, which sparked off several minutes of chit-chat, during which she revealed that she had been married to a wealthy creep when she was 20 and divorced due to his cruelty when she was 23; in lieu of alimony, she had accepted an extremely generous settlement and signed an NDA to keep her from going to the police about his many, many illegal business deals. She was teaching, she said, from a passion for math.

Both Ryan and Jess were getting increasingly edgy, and it was Jess who finally said, "So, not to be rude, but we came to discuss an extra credit assignment for Ryan to bring his grade up?"

"Right, I'm sorry," Faith said. "I'm just glad to have you here. So, yes, about the assignment. I trust you know that Ryan's grades have not improved enough since our conference to get the sort of grade he wants."

"I...am," Jess said. "He's been working very hard with his tutor, and his grades have improved."

"They have," Faith admitted. "I'm very impressed. If he continues this trajectory and applies himself, I would say he's now in no danger of failing. I would expect him to get a very solid D, maybe a D-plus. But then, you did mention that a D-plus won't exactly cut the mustard on his transcript, didn't you?"

"Yes, exactly," Jess nodded. "It's why we're here, after all."

"In that case, I have very good news for both of you," the teacher said with a smile. "I have a project that will let Ryan boost his grade to a level you would both be very satisfied with."

"What is it?" Ryan asked.

"You'll love it," Faith said with what appeared to be a genuinely guileless smile. "And it's easy, too. I want to watch you two fuck."

"WHHHAT?" Jess and Ryan gasped simultaneously.

"Oh, sorry, I shouldn't use that kind of language in front of a student and his mother. I want to watch you two have sexual intercourse."

"That's insane!" Ryan said.

"I know it's unconventional, but hear me out. I am you guys' biggest fans. I've been soooo excited about you ever since I first learned of your relationship. Plus, as Ryan has probably told you, I have a real incest fetish. It would be just the biggest honor ever for me if I could watch you conceive your first child."

"That's...no. Just no." Jess told her firmly.

"Don't say no so fast. In return, I would be delighted to give Ryan an A-plus for the semester. He wouldn't even have to do another assignment - although I'd really encourage you to do them, and to keep working with your tutor. A lot of people Ryan's age don't really understand how important math is, how many career doors it opens, and how it shapes your ability to think about the world and everything in it."

"I'm not saying math isn't important," Ryan said, holding his hands up to stop Faith's tumble of words. "I'm just saying this...deal of yours, is nucking futz."

"It really is ridiculous for you even to suggest it," Jess told her with a frown.

"I don't see why. You're already having sex, all I want to do is watch."

"We are not having sex, as a matter of fact," Jess corrected sharply, then blushed and added, "Well, oral, but that's not what you want to see, and we wouldn't even do that in front of you anyway."

"Oh! Oh my God! That video really is you two!"

"Yes, it's really us," Ryan sighed.

"Damn, I am going to get myself off to that a million, billion times. But even if I accept that you aren't having intercourse, you guys are already doing stuff together - it's on the internet forever, in fact. And you are going to have babies together eventually, right?"

"That's not the point," Ryan said. "We're not doing it now and we're not going to start for you."

"Listen," Faith said. "I'm not asking you to do anything that you aren't going to do anyway. I just want to witness a historic event. And let me remind you, an A+ in my class will glow on your transcript and open a lot of doors for you. Your joint future is being together and having amazing children, but Ryan's future includes college. The difference between getting into a very good school and an average school can amount to hundreds of thousands of dollars over a lifetime. You're going to need a lot of Pampers - can you really afford to dismiss my offer so cavalierly?"

Jess and Ryan exchanged a look; that point had hit some kind of mark.

"Alright, talk it over," Faith said, uncrossing her long legs and standing from her chair. "I'll be in the kitchen, just give me a shout when you make a decision. Jess, are you sure I can't get you something?"

"Do you have any wine?"

"I've got a pretty good chenin blanc open. Will that do? OK, I'll be right back."

As Faith disappeared into the kitchen, Jess and Ryan exchanged a baffled look, but it was Ryan who whispered, "Have you ever heard of anything so insane in your whole life?"

"Well...yes. A magic spell that can change you and me and everyone in the city."

"OK, I concede the point, but that offer was really, really insane."

"Yeah. Do you just want to go?"

"I...don't know."

Jess arched an eyebrow. "You just said it was crazy."

"And it is, but..."

"But - "

"Here's your wine!" Faith called as she strode back into the room with a tall glass of white wine and set it in front of Jess.

"Oh...can Ryan get some too? I think we could both use a drink."

Faith looked scandalized. "What? No! That would be providing alcohol to a minor, and a student of mine at that! I could lose my teaching license. I could do jail time!"

"But...you're trying to get us to have sex in front of you..." Ryan said.

"Oh, well that's different," Faith replied with the most perfectly dismissive wave of a hand either son or mother had ever seen. "I'm not going to commit a crime!"

Jess ventured, "You're trying to get us to commit incest. Incest is a crime."

Faith giggled as if that were the most outlandish thing she had ever heard. "Not for you! Now I'll leave you alone again, and please don't give him any of your wine."

The teacher walked out, her heels clacking on the hardwood floor, leaving Ryan and Jess to stare at each other in confusion. After a moment, Jess asked, "Want some wine?"

"We'd better not risk it, it's a crime."

"Well it's not for me," Jess muttered, and took a big drink. "Anyway, what were you saying?"

"I'm just thinking about what she said. About the money."

"Part of the blessing was that we'd be rich, remember?"

"Yeah, but it didn't say how we'd get rich, did it? We're going to have a lot of kids, like a lot of kids. Kids are expensive as hell, even I know that. I'm going to have to make a ton of money just to keep us off the streets."

Jess could have pointed out that she had a job, but she didn't even think about bringing it up. When the babies started coming, her full-time job would be looking after the ones they had and making more. It was nothing they'd ever discussed, but it was a bedrock assumption that they both shared as part of the magic. "I'm sure the blessing will provide..."

"I'm not. I mean, what if the way we're supposed to get rich is me working my ass off for the money? It's not like we can count on an oil tanker full of hundred dollar bills crashing into our front steps. The longest the ceremony could keep is apart is a year an a half, and I think we both know that with everything we've done, it's not going to last that long. You'll be pregnant before we know it. I just...I need to support you and the babies, that's all there is."

"So you want to jump into it tonight, right now, when you've still a semester and a half away from graduating high school? That doesn't make sense."

"No, I know, but...what if we can give her what she wants without giving her what she wants?"

"This is magic, babe. I think you could wear a half a dozen rubbers and a space suit and you'd still knock me up the moment you put your dick in me."
"Not if it's anal."

"Anal..." Jessica said, leaning back with the realization. The shamans did say they could do that without triggering the final transformations. "I mean, it's not that I don't want you to pound my ass like a jackhammer, because I do, but are you sure?"

"I'm not sure about anything. I'm just saying it's an option."

"It is an option, but think about this: we did oral and it made a lot more people get taken by the spell. What do you think would happen if you're fucking my butt every day?"

"We wouldn't have to do it every day, just tonight."

She gave him a stare. "Do you really think you can get that cock of yours into my butt and not want it all the time? Because I am a hundred percent positive that I would more than once a day, every day after that. I'll want you to assfuck me awake every morning."

"Hmm." He was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Would it be so bad if we did that?"

"They said the second ceremony held things off for six to eighteen months, but the more we do together, the faster it will happen. That six month minimum was only if we did nothing at all. If we do this tonight, I wouldn't be surprised if I'm a pregnant little Seetsahm by Christmas."

"Maybe," Ryan admitted, although he was certain she was right. He leaned forward so his elbows were on his knees and he was staring at the floor. "If you don't want it, we can leave right now."

"Didn't I just say I do want it? Do you have any idea how many times I've come thinking about your cock in my ass? Well neither do I, that's how many. If you want it - really want it - then we can start right now and consequences be damned. But before you do anything you can't take back, we both need to be positive that you really, truly do want to do it, and that we're prepared to deal with the results."

"Damn, that's heavy."

"Yeah."

Ryan was silent for almost two minutes, which is a very long time in a conversation; Jess said nothing to hurry him along. Finally he said, "I do want it. I'm sure I've had as many orgasms about that as you have. But speeding this whole process up that much is intimidating. I mean, I know we'll be happy, the magic will make sure of that, but I don't want to be happy that my kids are living in a homeless shelter. I really wanted to get at least my first semester done in college before I had to think about kids, but that would mean we'd have to fight this for a whole year from now."

"Do you think that's possible?" she asked softly.

"No," he sighed. "Even if we don't do this tonight - even if we stop doing everything - this whole process is moving too fast now. I think the very best we could hope for is not making our first until the beginning of summer."

"That is the best we can hope for," she agreed. "The pressure is already making us crazy and stressed. I think we'd both go nuts if we went longer than that."

"Yeah. And if it wasn't for the money angle, I'd say fuck it, let's keep it off for as long as we can. But we need to think about reality and...and inevitability. Destiny. Whatever."

"And do you really want to make love to me in front of your teacher? In front of anyone?"

Ryan knew he should have minded. Any ordinary person would. But he hadn't minded on Friday when she sucked his cock on a public street and he couldn't bring himself to be bothered about it now either. "I honestly don't care about that part. Do you?"

Jess surprised herself by answering, "Now that I think about it, I don't. I guess we're being remade into exhibitionists too."

"I guess we are."

"So?"

"So let's do it," Ryan said, sounding surprisingly resolute. "At least we can make the counteroffer. If she insists it's vaginal or nothing, then we leave and hope for that oil tanker."

Jess suddenly smiled wickedly. "I can't wait to feel your balls spanking my taint."

With that, any lingering reluctance Ryan had was swept away, and he called, "Faith?"

"Yes?" came his teacher's voice from the kitchen.

"We've made our decision."

Rapid tippity-taps of heels on the floor, and then Faith reappeared and bounced into her chair, her boobs jumping in her tank-top. She looked as excited as a kid on Christmas. "Well?"

"I know you want to see us make a baby tonight," Ryan said. "That's not happening. We aren't ready for that yet."

Faith's excitement faded. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"But, we've never had anal sex with each other. Would you like to watch that?"

Excitement returned. "Oh my god, yes! I would love to watch you take her ass for the first time! That sounds amazing."

"So we're good?" Ryan asked. "With the deal?"

"Consider your A-plus secure, Mister McCullen."

Jess looked around. "So where do we..."

"Oh! My god, it would be such an amazing honor if you did anal for the first time on my bed! Would you, please? Follow me!"

Ryan and Jess both stood. Now that the decision had been made, neither felt anything but confidence. This was the right thing for Ryan, for their future, and for their relationship. It was high time they both felt some penetration. They followed Faith as she scurried out of the room and down to the end of the hallway and into her very nice bedroom. Ryan immediately began to strip out of his clothes, but Jess asked, "Do you have any way I can clean things out back there? It's liable to get messy otherwise."

"Would you use my anal douche? Please?" Faith acted like it would be a wonderful gift if Jess did. "It's clean, I promise. I wash it every time."

"Sure," Jess shrugged. "Do you have lube we can use?"

"Of course, I have tons of it. I go through it fast," Faith replied as she crouched down and drew a very pretty box from under her bed that turned out to be full of sex toys and paraphernalia. She handed Jess the douche and pulled out a couple of dildos, and Jess went off to the bathroom.

"Are those for us?" Ryan asked as he undid his belt.

"For me, actually. I'm going to be getting myself off to this, if you don't mind."

She won't give me wine, but she'll masturbate right in front of me while I'm banging my mom up the chute. "I don't mind. But I want to see you as naked as we'll be."

She gave a sharp little intake of breath, and then said in a sultry voice, "You know, I've always noticed you looking at me when you've been in my classes."

He laughed as he sat down on the bed to take off his socks. "Every boy and half the girls in your classes would love to have sex with you, you must know that."

"Why do you think I dress the way I do? It motivates students to pay attention and to try hard to succeed to win my approval." Pause. "It never worked on you though."

"I suck at math," he shrugged. "What can I do?"

"Extra credit," she replied with a laugh.

"I guess so." He stood and pulled down pants and underwear in a single movement. His everhard dick jumped out and bobbed.

"Holy shit, that is a nice cock," Faith said, staring right at it. "It's beautifully shaped, perfectly proportioned, and just the right length and girth to hit every spot your mom's got. She's a lucky girl."

No man was immune to compliments to his little friend. "I hit a growth spurt over the summer so it's a lot bigger than it was. You don't think it's too big?"

"Oh no," she shook her head decisively. "I've had cocks that were too big, and it's awful - really hung guys all think they're home run hitters and every thrust is a swing for the fences. Hurts like hell. But yours I could take and love every little bit of it, and it would fill me right up to the brim. I'm jealous of your mom."

He chuckled and sat back down on the mattress. "Your turn. Get naked, Faith."

Faith's eyes blazed and she stood like a cobra uncoiling. She didn't just get naked - she did an extremely sexy striptease. Just watching her work her thicc ass out of her skinnies was a spectacle. She had had work done - a fair amount of work - but it had been good work. How many of my classmates would step over their grandmas to be in my place right now...

"So?" she said, hands on hips that were cocked at a seductive angle. "What do you think?"

"I think you look good enough to eat."

"Now that we're getting to be such good friends outside of school, you might just get the chance."

"And it's OK to do that with students?"

Again the quizzical expression. "Not with students, with you."

"I'm special somehow?"

The quizzical expression turned deeply puzzled. "Well...obviously, you're you. Wait...you don't think I'd ever do this with anyone else from my classes, do you?"

"Would you?"

"Of course not!" she said, obviously shocked by the very idea. "I take my responsibilities as a teacher very seriously. And besides that, it would be illegal and just plain immoral."

"But it's not with me?"

"Ryan, what are you talking about? Of course not with you. You're unique, you and your mother. You know that."

Obviously this was the magic twisting her mind - and if it happened to her, it would probably happen to everyone sooner or later. Apparently he and Jess could break rules and laws with impunity, but exactly which rules and laws, and to what degree of impunity, he didn't know.

At that moment Jess walked back into the room naked as a jaybird and carefully laid her clothes on a chair before turning an appraising eye on Faith. Unknowingly she echoed her son with, "Well, don't you look good enough to eat."

Faith giggled and preened a bit. "You really think so? Because I think the same about you."

Jess shot a very significant look to Ryan, then turned back to the teacher and said, "Let's just see how the evening plays out."

Faith's eyes got huge and she looked back and forth between them. "You mean...maybe..."

With a cocky grin, Jess said, "Let's just take it slow and see what happens."

She'd already been aroused, but suddenly Faith looked so horny that she might explode from a slight breeze. "OK, wow, OK, just...I can't believe it..."

Ryan grinned. "OK mom, enough chit-chat. Get over here."

That was a command Jess was eager to obey, and in a moment she had crossed the room and engaged her son in a deep kiss while she stroked his cock. His big, strong hands were on her body, roving in circles over her back and ass, her sides, her breasts, drawing one delighted little sigh after the other from her lips.

Faith stared, hardly blinking, and sat down at her vanity to watch the show. Biting her lower lip, picked up a smooth pink dildo, spread her legs, and started buzzing her clit while tugging her nipple with the other hand. She kept her eyes open wide, barely blinking, as though she didn't want to miss a single instant.

Ryan took half a step back and commanded, "Knees. Mouth open. Now." Instantly Jess dropped to her knees, head tilted back, mouth wide open, staring up at her son adoringly. He didn't hesitate to push his cock past her lips, slowly and steadily, until her nose was against his pelvis. She didn't move a muscle, not even her tongue - she hadn't been ordered to. Ryan smiled and wordlessly began to fuck her mouth and throat, slowly, hips moving back and forth as he tenderly brushed aside a stray lock of hair from her face.

"You guys are so sweet," Faith sighed. "No wonder everyone knows you're in love, it's so obvious just to look at you."

Ryan felt Jess laugh silently around his cock. That was definitely not the reason everyone knew about them, but neither Faith nor anyone else in Wisconsin would believe the real reason. No matter how much crazy stuff they embraced about the situation, they seemed to find everything perfectly natural. That was a hell of a magic spell Adouwe pulled off.

Ryan gave his mom the order to start using her tongue and lips, and within moments she had him on the edge. Normally this was a place she could have kept him for a while or, failing that, gotten him hard again in moments after he shot a load down her throat. Now though, with the prospect of finally getting into one of her tight holes, dangling in front of him, he didn't want to take a chance. He wanted his first load to go right into her, and though they both would have preferred that load go into her vagina rather than her rectum, this would have to hold them for the time being.

"Mom," he said, brushing her cheek gently with the backs of his fingers, "I think it's past time that I finally go inside you. Blink twice if you agree." The force of her two blinks would have shattered granite. "Good girl. Stand up and get on the bed, ass in the air and face down."

Jess moved so fast that greased lightning would have said, Damn, bitch, slow down. In an instant she was on the bed, facing away from him so that her puckered pink asshole and her red, hungry pussy were on open display. Ryan could only grin at Faith and say, "Get over here and help me."

Faith moved only barely slower than Jess had, so soon she was on her knees at Jess' side, hands on thighs, unable to tear her eyes away from the male and female erogenous zones so shamelessly displayed before her. "W-what do you need help with?"

Ryan's smile turned absolutely wicked. "I think you mean, 'What do you need help with, Sir.'"

Faith looked even more aroused, if that were possible. "What do you need help with, Sir?"

Wow, she went right along with that whole Sir thing. She is so into this it's a little scary. "Lube me up."

Faith gasped. "Does that mean I can touch..."

"Now, slut."

At that Faith moaned and reached back for the lube she'd laid on the bed. She dispensed a generous amount into one palm and then cupped her hands to warm the gel. Then, with one hand, she reached down and cradled his cock as reverently as if it had been a holy relic, lifting it up so that both hands could slide along its length and over the head. "I think you're ready, Sir."

"Good girl. Now get my mom's ass ready."

Faith bit her lip, warmed more lube in her hands, got two fingers good and slick, and gently pushed them up against Jess's anus. There was only a faint instant of resistance before the two fingers were inside. Faith seemed to be in no hurry, and she slowly pumped them in and out of Jess's tight hole; Jess responded with a happy moan. After a few moments, Faith looked up at Ryan and asked, "Did I do it well, Sir?"

"Yes, you're being a very good girl. If you keep it up, maybe this doesn't have to be the only time the three of us do this."

"Oh my God," Faith moaned, and her free hand slipped unconsciously to her pussy. "I'll be a good girl, I promise. I'll do whatever you want, Sir."

Jess giggled. "Does that include giving my son blowjobs at school?"

Faith looked back and forth between them, trying to figure out if the offer was serious, before saying, "Yes! I mean, if you want me to, of course I will. We'd have to be careful because of cameras and rules and things but I know some places where there aren't any cameras and we could go there after class ends, or we could go somewhere else or you could come here and - "

"Shhhh," Ryan said gently, placing a finger across her chattering lips. "Let's see if you pass the audition. Now spread my girl's ass cheeks so I can fuck her."

She pulled her fingers out of Jess' butt and obediently spread her wide. She was so excited that she was almost beside herself, giggling in pure delight.

Ryan placed a hand on Jess' lower back, leaned down, and whispered, "Are you ready to have me inside you?"

Her response was a groaned, "I've been ready for months. Please babe, don't tease me."

Ryan wasn't in a teasing mood. He gripped his cock around the base, lined himself up, and entered his mom's ass in a single, smooth motion that kept going until he was more than halfway inside her. He gave a groan that matched Jess', paused a moment, and then began to fuck his mom for the first time in the real world.

"How does it feel?" Ryan asked after a minute of smooth back-and-forth. "Is it too big?"

"Ohhhhh fuck no," Jess grunted. "I made - nnnnhhh! - I made your cock for me. Fuck! It's perfect!"

"Mmmm, good girl," he smiled, and then administered a sharp smack to one of her upturned cheeks, making her squeal in delight.

Faith slid onto one elbow and whispered, "How does it feel to finally have your boy inside you?"

"I need more!" she groaned. "I need it all!"

Ryan needed to hear no more: he pushed the rest of his cock inside her, making her moan when his hips hit her ass, spanking her reddened cheeks, and now when he fucked her it was faster, harder, deeper -

Jess came almost the second the tempo increased, a long, noisy orgasm that might have been heard in the next unit over. Ryan smacked her ass again and again, which only made the moans louder and the orgasm longer. He kept it up ten minutes, then twenty, then thirty - hammering like he was, he should have been starting to feel some fatigue or muscle soreness (and his mom's ass should definitely have been waving the white flag by now) but he had a feeling that would never be a problem he faced when he was with his mom. He felt like he could go for days.

Had gotten back to her knees and was kneeling close to Ryan, one hand on Jess' ass and the other on her clit, watching his cock take ownership of his mom's ass. He was sure she gave herself at least one orgasm that way and maybe another. Ryan leaned in, put his hand behind his teachers head, and pulled her in for a deep kiss she returned furiously; he finally ended it to say, "Rub my mom's clit too. Get both of you off together."

Faith didn't waste a second, throwing herself onto her back and keeping one hand flying on her own pussy while bringing the other hand to Jess'. Jess moaned something that might have been, "dirty slut" and came even harder than before.

A few minutes later, Ryan grunted, "I'm gonna come - "

And was surprised when Jess suddenly lurched upright and away. "No! I want to be on top - cowgirl or reversed cowgirl."

Ryan had no objection and so climbed onto the bed and laid on his back, but he did ask, "Why? What's the big deal?"

"My ass needs to be below my pussy," she chuckled, swinging a leg over and leaning back as she settled herself down once more to accept his cock into her gaping hole. "Otherwise sperm can run down and inside, and I'm pretty sure it would only take one from you to knock me up."

"Fuck, that's so amazing," Faith sighed happily as she returned her fingers to Jess' clit.

Assfucking when on your back is different than it is from doggy, but mother and son fell into the proper motions and rhythm without a second lost. It took very little time for Ryan to get back to the edge and he held himself there for a minute before groaning a loud, "Fuuuuuuuuuuucccckkkkk" and blasting his mother's rectum full of seed. She came too, with her son's cock hammering deep and his teacher's finger flying on her clit; her orgasm was too intense for words, too intense for sounds, and she screamed silently until, at last, she slid off her boy's cock and soiled Faith's bedspread with a flood of cum from her butt.

Ryan and Jess were too spent to do more than pant. Faith disappeared for a few moments and then came back with a pair of cold Gatorade Zeros and a thick towel for Jess. "Here, you guys both lost a lot of electrolytes."

The drinks were gratefully accepted. As Ryan attacked his, he asked Faith, "So, did you get your money's worth?"

"Oh. Oh my. Yes, like a million times yes."

"This was hot as hell," Jess mused as her battered sphincter leaked semen into the towel. "I had a wonderful time, and if you want threeways..."

"I do," Ryan smiled. "Maybe we could do this again, and if we did, maybe Faith would like to join us more completely."

Faith couldn't have been more delighted, "Just name the time and place and I'll be there. Ryan can have any hole he wants, and I'm willing to bet I can make Jess a very happy girl with my tongue."
"I'd be careful offering up the vagina," Jess laughed. "I've never seen cum as thick as as Ryan's - it's like oatmeal. His sperm count must be off the charts, and I'd bet you whatever stakes you wanted that they are powerful little swimmers."

"I wouldn't worry, I'm on Norplant."

"And I don't think his cum would even notice it. He's not...normal, you know. All I'm saying is don't let him in the front unless you want a Ryan, Jr. in nine months."

Faith looked back and forth between them. "Would you...would you mind that?"

"I'm not jealous," Jess chuckled. "I know he belongs to me."

"And I'm going to be knocking mom up so many times, what's one more with someone else?"

Faith grinned hugely. "I'm sure you know how tempting that is, but you're right. I need to be careful. We'll figure something out."

They chatted for a while more, with Ryan emptying his Gatorade and Jess draining about three-fourths of hers. There was nothing awkward about being with Faith this way; it was as if the magic had just accepted her and made it all feel normal. Afterwards, they pair adjourned to the shower to clean up while Faith busied herself with a load of laundry.

They kissed goodbye at the door, with Faith tongue-wrestling with son and mother alike, and then Ryan and Jess were down the stairs and into their car. While they'd been inside, a cold fog had settled in, so the drive home would be slow and cautious. As they drove off, Ryan shot Jess a grin and asked, "So, want to get your butt hammered when we get home?"

"You know I do," she chuckled. "It sounds like you and Faith are going to be having some fun from now on. She seemed awfully eager to get you in her mouth."

"Her blowjobs won't feel nearly as good as yours."

"Oh, I know that, but she's still going to make you come. You know what you should do? Just blast her face, get it in her hair, stain her clothes..."

He could only laugh. "You are a dirty, filthy little slut, aren't you?"

"I'll be just as filthy as you want me to be."

"What if she gets pregnant?"

"Honey, if we have threeways I think your seed is going to be responsible for a lot of swollen bellies. I don't mind - I think it's hot."

"Heh. Kim's friend wanted to hook up, maybe I could give her one."

"Maybe you could give Kim one."

He looked at her for longer than he probably should have given that he was driving through fog. "What is with you about that?"

"I just think the idea is super erotic is all. I can't help it. Like I said, this spell has turned me into a dirty, horny girl."

"It's not gonna happen, you know."

"Oh well, a mom can dream," she giggled, and then fell silent. After a couple of minutes she said, "I wonder how much we shortened this whole process by what we did tonight. It...it feels like we sped it up a lot."

"Yeah, it does to me too."

"Do you think I'm right? Will I be pregnant before the new year?"

"I don't know. Probably."

"Yeah," she sighed, looking out at the glowing orbs made by streelights in fog. "Less than two months. I wonder if I'm going to miss being me when I turn into Seetsahm."

"What makes you think you haven't already?"

"Hm?"

"It's you that went through the ceremonies, not Seetsahm. So Seetsahm is the name we'll both call you, what difference does it make? You'll still be you. You'll look different, but if your personality was going to change drastically it would have started by now, what with everything we've done. Aside from being an insatiable fuck bunny, you're still you."

"You think so? Really?"

"Yeah. It feels right, doesn't it?"

"Yes," she admitted, "it does. But I guess we'll know for sure pretty soon."

They drove in silence.
That Damned Blessing Ch. 06 and Epilogue
In Which The End Begets The Beginning.
Author's Note: All imaginary persons I imagined for the purposes of this story who engage in sexual activity of the imaginary variety are 18 imaginary years old or older, I imagine. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is coincidental but obviously fated to be, so blame the Universe and not me.

Up next: Are You Tiffani Caine? Chapter 7

That Damned Blessing, Chapter 6 and Epilogue:

In Which The End Begets The Beginning

A Day Later

The Wednesday evening that Ryan and Jess had spent in Faith Hegel's bed had put them both in a contemplative and introspective mood, and when they got home they each went their separate ways to clean up and sleep in their own beds. The next morning, though, Ryan awoke to the feeling of his cock hitting the back of his mom's throat, and a couple of minutes later she was riding him reverse cowgirl, taking his cock as deep as she could into her ass.

Afterwards, with his cum leaking slowly from her ransacked butthole, they lay cuddled together to feel the afterglow for as long as it lasted. It was Ryan who broke the reverie first. "Things are going to be different today."

She didn't need to ask him what he meant. Back on the islands, the shamans who had gotten them into this mess had told them that they could keep the final transformation at bay for six months to a year-and-a-half if they kept their hands off of each other as much as the magic drawing them together permitted, but they hadn't done that at all. It was now a little over ten weeks later and they had progressed through making out to oral and now anal - and every time they crossed a new line, the magic that was turning all of Milwaukee into their cheerleaders claimed new victims. Before this they each were getting strangers approaching them once or twice a day to tell them what a wonderful thing their mother-son mating was and how they were going to love being parents, and there was no doubt it would be worse today than ever before.

After a long moment, she said, "Yeah. I guess we both have to be prepared."

"I hope we don't see anything on the local news," he sighed into her hair. "Hopefully it will just be more of what's been going on already, rather than people hiring skywriters to put 'RYAN & JESS 4EVA" above us every day."

She snorted humorlessly. "I'd rather have that than, 'WILL YOU TWO MAKE BABIES ALREADY?"

"I guess given that choice, you're right." he nodded. There was a thoughtful pause before he finally asked, "After last night - and this morning - do you still want to fight this thing instead of just giving in?"

"I want to give in more and more every day. Feeling you inside me...I can't even begin to describe how amazing that is, how right. And I know it will be a million times better if we just accepted it and fucked properly. But..."

"But..."

"I don't know how to finish that sentence," she sighed, burying her head into the crook of his neck. "I just...I don't know anymore, love. You're already my man in every way but that. I know that fighting it is important, I'm just not sure why anymore."

"I know what you mean. I spend half my day fantasizing about how you'll look when your belly is swollen with my babies, and it hurts that I haven't made one with you yet - I mean it physically hurts sometimes. And I know I could change that so easily - all I'd need to do is put it in and you'd be pregnant before you got out of this bed."

"That sounds amazing," she whispered, pressing closer to him. "And it hurts me too. It's so hard for me not to beg you to do it, to end this damned indecision and misery and make us both happy for the rest of our lives."

"Do you want me to? Really? Right now?"

"Yes," she said with only the briefest of hesitation. "Yes, I do. I don't want to be Jess anymore, I want to be Seetsahm, I want to be your woman, I want to be the mother of your children. But I don't want it until you're ready to give that to me. Are you?"

He sighed. Part of him, the biggest part, was very ready indeed, but still he said, "No. Not yet. I don't even know why not for sure, only that I need to keep fighting it for as long as I can."

"You're a stubborn, contrary son of a bitch," she chuckled.

"You realize you just called yourself a bitch, right?"

"And a horny one at that. Got another assfucking in you this morning, babe?"

He did, and a moment later she did too.

Ryan didn't even have time to get worried about the dreadful walk into school from his car, because the moment he pulled up into the student parking lot he was swarmed by a smiling, happy crowd of people who, just the day before, were insulting him to his face - now they couldn't wait to shake his hand, slap him on the back, and congratulate him for being with his mom. Most of the biggest kids from the football team were there to give an honor guard inside, and they intimidated the hell out of anyone still inclined to be negative. It was the best walk to class he had had in two months.

In class, though, it got weird. The ceremony had spread its net wide the night before - as far as he could tell, an outright majority of people had been changed by it, including a teacher who had almost spat on him and his mom during parent-teacher conferences. People who had shouted the vilest things at him were now almost getting violent with anyone who dared to voice disapproval - a very petite girl in his first period had to be physically restrained by her friends from assaulting a very large wrestler because the wrestler said under his breath that Ryan was a freak.

After second period, he and Mycah met in the hall. "So," Mycah said, "looks like there a lot more people on your side today."

"Yeah. We..."

"OMG, did you?" he asked, seeming shocked.

"No, not that." He looked around to make sure he would not be overheard and then whispered, "The other hole."

Mycah seemed to relax. "You know, if you'd have told me three months ago that I would be relieved that you fucked your mom in the ass, I wouldn't have believed you."

"What?" asked a girl Ryan slightly knew as she was passing by. Loudly she exclaimed, "How are you going to get your mom pregnant by doing anal?"

Suddenly everyone in earshot was staring, and somewhere over half of them were vying to explain human reproductive biology. Ryan gave Mycah a glare, to which Mycah could only shrug and say, "Sorry."

That day, as Jess was trying to decide where to order lunch from, there came a rapping at her door. She looked up to see Cynthia, one of her underlings and one of the first converts to incest cheerleader. She was trying to hide a smile and nearly succeeding as she said, "Hey Jess, there's some Guiseppe's in the break room but there's only one tray of Marsala chicken, so you'd better hurry."

The smile made her suspicious, as did the fact that her boss Nolan hadn't mentioned that he was having food brought in today. But then it wasn't like he always mentioned when he was having food brought in - it was a common enough occurrence that it didn't need a ton of notice. More than that, though, Guiseppe's was easily the best food they had catered here, and she had been known to be irritated when she arrived late to the feast and discovered that her coworkers had devoured all the amazing Marsala chicken. "OK, I'll be right there, thanks."

She signed off her computer, checked her messages. There was one from Ryan saying:

I bet ur day is just as weird as mine

<three heart emojis, eggplant emoji, peach emoji>

She grinned and replied:

I've got two holes hungry 4 <eggplant emoji>



Day normal so far



And it was normal so far - the expected surge in people encouraging her to get pregnant hadn't happened. She got up and hurried toward the break room, eager for some chicken. She stepped inside - and discovered about 70% of her coworkers already there, jammed in shoulder to shoulder under a big, colorful banner proclaiming JESS & RYAN TRUE LOVE. She stopped dead in the doorway and stared as everyone in there began clapping and cheering.

Nolan, the owner and one of the first people at the company to succumb to the effects of the ceremony, stepped forward with an enormous smile on his face, embraced her in a big hug (he was always a huggy sort) and said, "There's the woman of the hour! Come on in, we've been waiting to open the Marsala chicken until you got here!"

Jess simply stood dumbfounded. Absolutely none of these people had said a word to her today about her son or their relationship, but they'd set up a party to celebrate it. And there were so many! Just the day before, more than half of the smiling faces here were sneering at her and avoiding her, and now she felt nothing but love coming from them. Ashley, the receptionist, loudly asked, "Are you expecting yet?"

"No, we just did anal for the first time - " Jess said, then cut herself off sharply. WHY did I tell them THAT?

"You can't get a baby from that," said Adeline, another coworker. "That's like a birth control method, not a way to get impregnated. You know that."

That's why we did it. "Um, yeah...uh...let's eat!"

She was allowed to go first through the line, and even encouraged to take two pieces of Marsala chicken, which was frowned on in any other circumstance - even Nolan only ever took one. She was then seated by the others at the head of one of the tables in what might as well have been a position of honor. It was an awkward lunch because everyone in attendance seemed to feel entitled to ask her one, or several, extremely intrusive and uncomfortable questions; there's not much like trying to eat your lasagna in the breakroom while an old lady a year from retirement casually questions you about how your son's cum tastes. Still, on balance, it was better to have everyone be overly supportive but invasive rather than sullen and hostile.

For dessert there was cannoli (both regular and chocolate-dipped) as well as tiramisu, and since Guiseppe's was famous for its desserts even more than its food, they were almost always the first thing that went. This time, however, she was given her choice (a chocolate-dipped cannoli, obviously) and then her coworkers made up a dessert plate for her to take home and share with her son after he fucked her tonight.

And here she was thinking that all of this couldn't get any weirder.

Even when they did nothing so dramatic as explore new sexual horizons, people who had been disgusted with them still had their attitudes changed by the magic. The following Monday, as Ryan hustled toward his first period class, he was stopped by two people who'd been giving him the hairy eyeball the week before; now, both of them hugged him, told him how happy they were for him, and wouldn't let him go until he explained why there was no baby on the way yet. Even acceptance could get old sometimes.

In truth, it was a pretty good day, especially because for once he wasn't the only topic of conversation. The prize on one of the big national lotteries was in record territory, and whoever won it would be set for life. A lot of kids who were too young to buy tickets were lamenting their year of birth, and a lot of seniors were bragging about what they'd do with all that cash. One kid said he'd buy the school and make all the teachers dress in sexy Halloween costumes every day of the year - especially the teachers nobody wanted to see in sexy anything.

At the end of the day, Ryan entered Ms. Hegel's class with the full expectation that he would be just as lost as he always was. Faith was dressed in her normal way, just inside the bounds of propriety for a high school teacher, in a tight red blouse and a tight black skirt that rose just above the knee when standing, and considerably higher when she sat down. As always, every student in class who was attracted to women was distracted, but it was even more difficult for Ryan because he knew what she looked like naked, knew her O face and the sounds she made when she came, knew how her hands felt on his dick, and knew that she wanted that dick inside of her. Learning in that situation was even more challenging than normal.

At about the midpoint in the period, when Ryan was almost always simply gazing at his desktop in bafflement, he happened to glance up at the screen as Faith advanced the presentation to the next question. Being math, it was a series of symbols and numbers in various positions and asked, "What is minimal value of this expression over all real numbers?"

All around Ryan, students dived for their tablets, but before he knew it, his hand shot up. Faith arched an eyebrow in cynical surprise and said, "Yes, Ryan?"

"The minimal value is -39."

Faith's dubious expression was instantly replaced by a look of shock. "That...that is correct. Good job, Ryan."

To his own amazement more than Faith's, he knew the next answer, and the next, and the next. When he'd walked into the room today, this all would have been basically impenetrable gibberish, but now the answers were just there, in his brain like he'd known them all along. Unless he was developing some kind of weird brain tumor that was unlocking his real potential genius (and he didn't believe he had any real potential genius) then this could only be the magic doing more work. Honestly, he shouldn't even be surprised anymore.

Everyone else was surprised too - even kids who'd been among the first changed by the ceremony were looking at him strangely. He couldn't blame them - his reputation as a math dunce was well and repeatedly earned.

The final bell rang, and as he stood to leave, Faith said, "Ryan, I'd like to talk to you. It looks like you've been holding out on me."

"Ooohhh, you in trou-ble..." one of the other kids said, walking past. Ryan said nothing, just approaching the desk and waiting for whatever Ms. Hegel was going to hit him with next.

When the last student had left, she crossed her arms in front of her, leaned back against her desk, and said, "So, it seems like you've understood math better than you were letting on. Were you just playing me to get that extra credit assignment?"

"I didn't even know you'd give me that assignment. I thought you were crazy when you told us what you wanted."

She waved a hand dismissively. "I'm sure you knew what I wanted from the first. Anyway, what the happened to you?"

"I don't know. Suddenly all this makes sense. It sure as hell didn't before."

"Language, Ryan. Are you telling me it just suddenly came to you?" He nodded. "Do you have some kind of weird brain tumor?"

"Not that I know of."

"Interesting. Let's see how far your knowledge extends."

The next hour was spent with Faith Hegel writing increasingly abstruse questions from progressively higher levels of mathematics on the white board, followed by Ryan solving each in succession, and without apparent difficulty. Finally she threw up her hands in frustration and demanded, "Where was this mathematical genius all this time? If you'd have just showed it from the first I wouldn't have had to make your time at this school such a hell."

"Sorry, I wish I could tell you. But..."

"But?"

"But I think you owe me for all that torment you've put me through. I think you have some debt to work off."

Her eyes widened, her nipples hardened, and she seemingly had to hold herself back from jumping on him. "And how can I do that?"

"On your knees."

Jess was right: the blowjobs she got from his teacher weren't as intense or mind-blowing as the ones Jess gave him, but they got the job done. He finished by putting a massive load onto her face and into her hair and telling her to keep it like that until she got home. She grinned saucily and said, "If anyone asks, I'll just tell them you made this mess. They'll understand."

More and more every day, Ryan was sure she was right about that.

That Thursday, Jess awoke early due to the incessant screeching of an overly full bladder. Still sleep-befuddled, she staggered into her bathroom to pee. As she wiped, she realized that something had changed, something with her, but she wasn't awake enough to figure it out until she went to the sink. And suddenly she was very awake indeed.

Moments later, she threw Ryan's bedroom door open, swatted the light on the way past, leaped, and landed on her knees next to him on the bed. He gave a groggy half-yelp and opened his eyes as far as the sudden light would permit. "What the fuck...what time...Jesus, it's ten after five, what's going on?"

"Look!" she cried.

He looked at her. "OK, done. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"No!" she said, slapping the bed with both palms. "Do you notice anything different about me?"

Oh shit. No man ever wanted to hear a woman ask him that question, not even one ensorcelled. "Uhhh, yeah, you did something different with your hair, it looks nice."

"Wha - no! I haven't even brushed my hair yet!" she held out her arms. "Look, see?"

It was entirely too early for this. "Alright, I give up. What am I supposed to be seeing?"

"This blouse. See? The sleeves are too long."

"Uhhh...they sure are."

"Yesterday they weren't."

It took him a few moments to realize the implications, and then he too was awake. "OK, damn. How much?"

"I think I lost three inches during the night. I noticed it when I stood at the sink and saw that the edge of it was above my belly button. My belly button was always above it before." Jess had always been at the top end of average for female height, but in all their dreams and visions, Seetsahm was short, barely above five feet - just like Jess had always dreamed of being. Her skin and hair had already changed color to match Seetsahm, and now her height was catching up.

He took her hands. "How do you feel?"

"Excited. Terrified. I don't know what to feel."

"But like, physically? Do you hurt? Are there, like...anti-growing pains or something?"

She shook her head. "Physically I feel amazing. It feels...I don't know, it's hard to explain. You know how trans people say they suddenly have the body they should have been born with? Well, that - except not quite that because I've probably got another four or five inches to lose. But closer to what I ought to be than I ever have been before. That's the exciting part."

He didn't need to ask her what the terrifying part was - he'd been panicked when his dick had suddenly grown and when he'd suddenly started looking six or seven years older. "In that case, congratulations. I love you, Seetsahm."

She hugged him fiercely, and as she held him she whispered, "I'm going to need a hell of a lot of new clothes."

"Maternity clothes too, don't forget that."

"I haven't forgotten that for a second."

"You're going to be gorgeous when I get you pregnant, you know that?"

"What, I'm not gorgeous now?"

"Smart-ass. You're the hottest woman ever to have walked the Earth."

"I love you, Ryan. And since I woke you up early, want to fool around?"

She didn't even need to ask; he always wanted to fool around. He began to undo the buttons on her blouse, and as he pulled it over her shoulders he said, "This will be the last time we fuck in this bed."

She arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I'm tired of not walking up under the same covers as you. From now on, your bed is our bed."

She shivered in delight at the tone of his voice. "It should have been that all along, babe. Now take me hard - make me remember this bed."

Kim rolled in late Saturday morning for her biweekly visit home, a basket of dirty laundry under one arm and an energy drink in the other. "Hey, I'm here!" she shouted. "Anybody around?"

A moment later her mother came in from the living room. "Hi Kim, how's it going?"
Kim looked at her, was about to make a crack about Jess's nudity - and then did a comical double-take. "Wha...mom?"

"Yes?"

"What...the HELL...happened?"

"What do you think?" Jessica said, spreading her arms wide. "It's the new me, all sixty-and-one-half-inches of me."

"You're not even five-one? What...what..."

Jess shrugged. "Seetsahm's short. I'm Seetsahm. I've been worried about it, but now that it's here, I love it. When I was growing up I was taller than half the boys, I always wanted to be petite."

Kim set her laundry down on the counter, shaking her head. "Mom, your boobs are bigger than my head. You're not petite, you're just short."

"Fine, be picky."

"So..." Kim paused, took a drink of her Red Bull, and tried again. "Does this mean you guys..."

"No. Well, kind of. We did anal."

"OK, that's enough detail. I don't need to know more about by brother's wiener and my mom's backside."

Jess smiled salaciously, leaned in, and whispered, "Not even who else was there when we did it the first time?"

Kim shut her eyes hard, obviously fighting with herself for some seconds before conceding defeat and saying, "Oh fine, who?"

"Faith Hegel."

"What the fuck - MS. HEGEL?"

"Yep."

"My former math teacher?"

"That's the one."

"Whhhhyyyy? I mean we always thought she was a slut, but why?"

"We kind of didn't have a choice," Jessica said, and then went on to explain the "extra credit project" and how they managed to talk her down from vaginal to anal.

"I always figured she was a freak," Kim said with a frown. "I mean, this magic shit is messing everyone up, but that's demented even so. You should report her to the School Board or something."

"Sure, the same School Board that's probably three-quarters converted by the ceremony. Not one of them would see anything wrong with what she did. Oh, but it was funny - she wouldn't give Ryan a glass of wine before we had sex. She got outraged by the very thought, said it would make her a bad teacher. But she's sucked Ryan off every day after school since then - the Principal even walked in on them yesterday and just apologized and said she'd come back later."

"Ew, he lets that skank touch him? Who knows where she's been."

"We're planning a threeway right before Thanksgiving," Jess mentioned as casually as if the subject was what side dishes were planned for the meal. "I'm willing to bet she can get me off good with that dirty little mouth of hers."

Kim couldn't have looked more scandalized if Jess had mentioned murder. "Damn...gah...WHAT? Wait, no, do not explain any more, that is just...foul."

"What's all the shouting about?" Ryan asked as he strolled in, naked except for socks and his full-staff erection leading the way. "How's it going, Kim?"

"WILL YOU PUT SOMETHING ON?" his sister screeched, eyes wide.

"There, that should do it," Jess said with a suppressed smirk as she picked up a dish towel and draped it over her son's boner. Kim tried to reply, but simply ended up fleeing the room without saying anything, although Jess did shout after her, "I'll wash these clothes for you!"

"Wash that dish towel too!" Kim shouted back from the stairs as she hurried up to her bedroom.

"You probably ought to," Ryan agreed quietly, handing the cloth to his mom. "My cock was up your ass when she walked in."

Jess gave it half an hour, then dressed in some of the only clothes that still fit her - a skirt and a tee shirt, both too long now - and then knocked on her daughter's door. "What?" Kim answered warily.

"I'm coming in, so stop masturbating," Jess said, then opened the door. She had only said it to tease Kim, but to her surprise Kim rapidly flipped her laptop shut and threw the bedclothes over her lower half, which was clad only in underwear. This time Jessica couldn't keep from chuckling as she said, "Thinking of that threeway I mentioned?"

"No!" Kim said, blushing absolutely scarlet. "What do you want?"

"I need a whole new wardrobe, and I can't ask your brother - he'd have me in nothing but high heels all day if he had his way. So come on, we're going shopping."

"You had me at 'shopping.' Will you buy me something?"

"Well, here's the thing," Jess said, sitting on the edge of her daughter's bed (her dangling feet no longer reached the floor as she did). "It's gonna get weird out there, so to compensate I'll buy you lots of things."

"Wow, great. Wait...weird? Is dickmunch coming?"

"No, but he won't have to. As nearly as we can tell, about three-quarters of the people in the city have been...changed. You know what I mean?"

Kim nodded slowly. "Well, OK, that's bizarre, but you knew it was going to happen, right? So what's the problem?"

"The problem is, the shamans did their jobs too well. They wanted to make the city accepting of your brother and me, but they made them fanatics instead."

"Right, I mean you've mentioned that everybody's super friendly when they've been changed. That should make it easier, right?"

Jess sighed. "When your brother or I go someplace now, things happen. Crowds form, big crowds, like we're everybody's favorite celebrities. Ryan went to the gas station on the way home yesterday and even people driving by stopped when they saw him there. They pumped his gas for him, squeegeed his windows - two guys got into a shoving match over which of them would get to pay for his fuel."

"OK, I mean, so far I'm only seeing upside. Some people were giving you guys dirty looks before, I bet that's stopped."

"It has, but...alright, I didn't go to work yesterday because I didn't have anything to wear that wouldn't look like I was a kid wearing mommy's grown-up clothes. At around two in the afternoon, Nolan - my boss - called me, laughing, to tell me about something that had just happened. Two of the unconverted people there were whispering about how weird everything was. One of them said I was sick for having sex with my son - and someone overheard, one of the converted ones. She screamed what the two people were saying, and all of a sudden those two people were getting the crap beaten out of them. One of those two has been there twelve years, the other for seven - everybody knows them and loved them, they're sweet and kind and helpful people. One of them got her scalp split open when her best friend at work smacked her in the skull with a steel trash basket."

Kim's eyes were wide and horrified. "Are they...did they live?"

"They had to be taken to two ERs, because the first one they went to refused to treat them when they found out what had happened. The cops who came to take their report almost arrested them for insulting me. When Nolan told me about all this, he was laughing - Kim, Nolan is the kindest man I've ever known. Before all this, just the thought of that kind of thing happening would have sicked him, and now he told me it served them both right for saying something bad about me."

"That's pretty messed up, mom."

"And you know what's more messed up? When those two get changed by the magic, they'll agree."

"Jeez. I don't even know what to say."

"You don't need to worry about your personal safety, because I think if the crowds found out you're my daughter they'd be just as protective of you as they are of your brother and me. But it will be very strange for you."

"You've been saying since this started that strangers have been coming up and congratulating you both. I guess I'll get to see it in person."

"Yep," Jess said, standing up and heading for the door. "You can finish fingering yourself if you're quick."

"Mom!"

Twenty minutes later they were heading out to the western suburb of Wauwatosa. It had taken Jess some time to adjust the seat and mirrors of her SUV so that she could see and work the pedals, given that she was half a foot shorter now than she had been a few days ago. They sped along, Taylor Swift on the radio, both women singing along (they discovered that Jess' singing voice had gotten much better during her recent transformation) until suddenly Kim asked, "Does it hurt?"

"Can you narrow it down some?"

"The last time I saw you, you were tall. Now you're a midget."

"Please dear, we prefer the term 'little people.'"

"Fine, now you're a little-as-fuck person. I was taller than you in eighth grade. I feel like I should be telling you to be careful on your Big Wheel."

Jess laughed. "No, there wasn't a single instant of pain from it. I feel better right now than I ever have in my life. I shrank into the real me, the me I always should have been. I'm so happy, Kim."

"But it's got to be weird, right?"

"Everything's been weird since your brother saved that kid on the island. If you'd have told me then that I would have this body now - even without everything else that has happened along the way - I'd have told you that it was the weirdest thing I'd ever heard in my life. Now, though...no. I want this, Kim. I really do."

Kim digested that for a moment, then asked, "How come you two haven't just done it all? You both want it. I see the way the dickhead looks at you that he has to hold himself back from jumping you and just finishing all this."

"Because he wants to hold back as long as he can. If it were up to me, we'd have done it by now."

"Why is he putting it off?"

"Because he's a stubborn man!" Jess laughed. "I think he feels like he has something to prove. He loves what's happening, but that's because the magic isn't giving him a choice in the matter. He's still angry at Adouwe and Jake and all the other shamans on the islands - in fact, he hates their guts. He used to scare them by telling them that he'd curse them, and I think he'd do it if he knew how."

"But if he's happy..."

"How would you feel if the roles were flipped and it was you and your dad that this was happening to?If you two had gotten zapped against your will and broken our family and now you had to spend the rest of your life doing what those old men decided you should be happy doing, would you just grab it with both hands, or would you dig in your heels and fight it every second of every day?"

"Well...I'm just as stubborn as the rat turd is..."

"You don't say," Jess said dryly.

"Hush, you. If it was me and dad...yeah, I think I'd be fighting it. I hope I would, anyway. Because...well, I've accepted it's going to happen for you and the crap commando, but thinking about me and dad together like that makes me nauseous.

"Do you need to insult your brother every time you mention him?"

"Well duh, of course I do."

"And what if it was you and him instead of you and your father? You told me a while back that you'd already have given in."

"I would have. It's just not as weird to think about with my brother as it is with my dad. We're almost the same age already so I wouldn't have had to go through all the physical changes you did."

"Is that the only reason?"

"Don't get weird about it, but no it's not the only reason. We used to be close when we were kids."

"I remember. I used to love to watch you playing with him when he was little. You two were great together. It was sad to watch you grow apart, but I guess it happens like that sometimes."

"I'll do my best to be the same for your kids. I don't even know what to call them, but I'll be the best big sister-slash-aunt I know how to be."

"Thank you, honey. I know you will, but it still means a lot to hear you say it."

"Speaking of dad, have you been staying in touch?"

"He's not all that keen to talk to me right now. I checked in last week to see if he was still healthy and safe, and he said he was."

"Yeah." Kim paused, then asked, "Do you want to hear more about him? What he's doing?"

"Yes. I want him to be happy. I won't get jealous, if that's what you're asking."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I am - wait, he didn't hook up with Trish Hendricks, did he?" Trish was one of the women Jess had hung out with on the island; she was a lush and a slut in an openish marriage and she'd fucked everyone she could talk out of their underwear on the island - including Ryan.

"Yeah, sorry. A few times."

"God, I hoped he had better taste. I guess heartbreak makes us idiots."

"She didn't give him much choice. Word got around pretty quick that you two had broken up, and Trish homed in on him like a dick-seeking missile."

"Well I hope it's nothing serious."

"It's not, they got together three times the week before she went home to Boston."

"Did he get checked for VD?"

"I didn't ask, but do you really think the doctor on the island is capable of diagnosing an actual disease?"

"Fair point."

"But that's not all. There's another."

"Really? Good for him. What's the other one like?"

"Her name is Chiara. She's a gambling consultant from Rome. The government brought her in to advice on how to set up operations, what games they should run, how they should handle hiring, all that kind of stuff. He says they hit it off right away and they've been spending a lot of time together."

Jess couldn't help but smile. "Good. He deserves something decent. What's she like?"

"She's thirty-four years old, two years out from a divorce. She's fun, she loves to dance, she's really smart. She has a seven-year-old daughter she brought with her to the island and dad loves the kid."

"Did he send you pictures?"

"He did. She's hot. Want to see them?"

"When we get to the mall. Thanks for telling me, Kim. I'm really happy for him. I hope it works out. Oh, and tell your brother all of this when you see him next, he'll love it."

The place they were going wasn't just a shopping mall, it was a shopping district. Surrounding the mall itself was a corona of strip malls and standalone shops, some of which were of surprisingly good quality. Since a whole new wardrobe would be required and she didn't know her new sizes, Jess elected to start with the mall and its big tentpole stores. They parked close to Macy's and headed for there - and made it all of ten feet before a man's voice stopped them with, "Hey! Hey, Jessica!"

"See?" Jess whispered to her daughter as both women turned. "This is how it goes."

The man in question was a very handsome black man of about forty, who approached them with shopping bags in one hand and a couple of little kids in tow. "Wow, it is you! I can't believe this, it's really an honor to meet you."

"It's good to meet you too," Jess agreed. She had long since become accustomed to this sort of thing, though Kim was a little freaked out to see it happen right in front of her. The man and his kids - she never learned their names - only detained them for a couple of minutes, but by the time they left, Jess had attracted a small crowd. It followed her inside - where it became a bigger crowd, with people flowing from all over Macy's to see her. Just as she'd told Kim, people were shockingly direct, sometimes asking extremely explicit questions about Jess' sex life with her son and being alarmed when told that there was nothing vaginal yet. It took some time for Jess to get through to people that she was here to do some shopping, but when she did the crowd finally dispersed.

"What...you didn't even deny that you're doing stuff with nutmunch," Kim said. "I thought you weren't admitting that to anyone."

"What's the point of keeping it a secret anymore? Everyone knows we're doing stuff, they just assume it's more than it is."

"But did you really need to say, 'He's just taking my mouth and ass?'"

"I didn't need to, but you heard how they were talking. Do you think my language shocked anyone?"

"Me."

"You'll get used to it. I had to."

"Yeah, but you're the one getting your mouth and ass taken."

"Ooohh, you sound jealous! I'm sure he'd take yours too if you asked."

"Did you want me to puke? Because I swear to God I will puke all over you."

Shopping turned out to be fun, actually. The salespeople bent over backwards for both of them in every store, and they were straight out given as much as they bought; Kim would have taken massive advantage of that last part if her mom hadn't scolded her to be good. It wasn't as if it was without hiccup - Kim caught her mom whacking away at her pussy in an open dressing room and moaning for Ryan to come fuck her, and one persistent questioner elicited way more about her mom's surprisingly wide sexual history than a sensible daughter would ever want to know - but they walked out with three full shopping carts of clothes. More importantly, Jess now knew what sizes she wore, so she could avoid the drama and order clothes online from now on.

Ryan and Mycah were on PlayStation in Ryan's room when the girls got back and forced them to set down their controllers for a fashion show. To Kim's dismay, her mom thought nothing of undressing over and over again in front of Ryan's friend, but Kim always ducked across the hall to her own bedroom to strip and change. In the best tradition of 18-year-old males everywhere, Ryan and Mycah soon lost interest in the clothes and were positively bored before the end (apparently the game they were playing was fascinating), but one thing did quickly elicit comment from Ryan: "Mom, I can't help but notice you're dressing for how old you look, not how old you are."

"Hmm?" She looked around at the small mountain of clothes she'd tried and had yet to try before admitting, "Well...OK, they are all clothes sexy young women would wear, except for the stuff I bought for the office."

"Yeah, about that, Mrs. M," Mycah said cautiously, "those clothes wouldn't meet a lot of places' dress codes. There were a lot of microskirts and tiny, see-through tops there."

"Oh...well...OK, I didn't realize it, but yeah. Should I take them back?"

Ryan grinned. "I think you could go to work buckass nude now and nobody would say a word, so no, keep them. Besides, that way I get to live out my 'slutty office girl' fantasies every night when you come home."

Mycah had long since become inured to such talk between them, but Kim came back into the room in a new outfit, heard that statement, turned her heel, and beat a rapid retreat. Jess watched her go, shook her head, and said, "What a prude."

Bright and early the next morning as Jess was coming out of her bathroom and heading back to bed to wake Ryan up for some lovin', the door flew open and Kim bounded in, wearing only the oversized tee and panties that she wore to bed. "HI MOM!"

"What the fuck..." Ryan grumbled, forcing one eye open.

"Well good morning to you too, sweetie," Jess said. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong!" Kim answered with a huge smile. "Are you two going to have sex? Can I watch?"

"Huh?" Ryan said, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "What are you talking about?"

"You could make your first baby right now, and I want to see it! It would be the greatest moment of my life if I could watch you pound mom pregnant."

Ryan and Jess exchanged a look: the spell had claimed another victim. Jess turned back to her daughter and said, "I'd love to, but your brother's not ready for that yet."

Kim leaped onto the bed like a panther and started punching Ryan's arm through the covers. "WHAT. IS. WRONG. WITH. YOU???"

"Ow! Hey! Mom, Kim's hitting me!"

"Technically, she's only hitting the blanket," Jess pointed out. "Handle it yourself. Pin her to the mattress. Hell, maybe she'd rather you fuck her than me."

"Aw, just...ugh!" Kim said, a very sour look on her face as she sat up and crossed her arms in front of her. "What is it with you? Do you really want us to have sex or are you just messing with me? I can't even tell anymore."

"Well...what if I did want you to?"

"That's really disgusting, mom," Ryan said firmly. "No way I'm boning my sister, that's just gross."

"For real," Kim nodded. "I just threw up in my mouth a little thinking about that."

"Mom's a freak," Ryan put in.
"Oh, I know! At the mall yesterday she listed all kinds of crazy stuff she's done. It was way more info than I needed, you know?"

"I bet she didn't tell you that she had a threeway with dad and Uncle Steve after they were married."

Kim gaped and turned wide eyes to her mom. "What...dad and his brother?"

"It was his idea!" Jess protested. "Those two had fooled around together some and I thought that was crazy hot. I told your dad that and he called Steve and invited him over that night."

It was plain Kim didn't know how to feel about that. "Did those two...did they..."

"Every cock went into every hole," Jess said proudly. "It was the most erotic thing I've ever been a part of until all this started happening with your brother."

"What the fuck..." Kim shook her head. "So that's why you want to see me and him together? You've got an incest fetish?"

"Not really," Jess told her. "I never thought about having sex with either of you, or you two having sex with each other, until the first ceremony. I think it just lowered all my inhibitions."

"Sorry to tell you, but Kim and I is not happening," Ryan said. "I mean, I have an erection twenty-four- seven these days, but thinking of sticking it into her makes it wilt."

"I am so glad to hear that," Kim added. "No way I could spread 'em for Ryan."

"God, you kids are suck killjoys," Jess pouted. "Can you at least give each other a hot kiss?"

"No," both her children answered immediately.

"Oh, fine. I can't believe I birthed such boring children."

Ryan nodded. "Now that that's settled, Kim, want to watch me take mom's mouth and ass?"

His sister's face lit up like Times Square at New Year's. "Yes!"

Jess looked confused. "So you don't want to join, but you want to watch?"

"Don't question it, it's magic," Ryan said. "Now get your slut mouth in gear, I need my morning load drained."

"Yeah, mom," Kim nodded. "I want to see you suck that big, perfect cock."

Typical Kim, asking Jess to do something she could do herself.

On Wednesday, Ryan was practically ignored by the majority of the kids for the first time all school year. A record-setting $4.42 billion dollar lottery ticket had been purchased on Monday and still had not been claimed; this would not have been the cause of such buzz if not for the fact that it had been purchased at the gas station across the street from the school. All Ryan could do was curse his luck - he wasn't one to buy lottery tickets in general and he hadn't stopped at that station on Monday, but if he were and if he had - well, if wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets. All he could do was join in the speculation about whether it might have been a student or staff member from the school.

At lunch he loaded his tray and was headed for the register to pay, Mycah at his side. They were discussing a brutal English exam that they had both taken that day (they had the same course with the same teacher, just at different times). When Ryan opened his wallet to run his lunch card, the first thing he saw was the corner of a pinkish piece of paper protruding from the money pocket; he did not recognize it, but a chill ran down his spine nevertheless. He paid for the food and hurried to a far corner of a table that was empty; by the time Mycah got there a few seconds later, the paper was in one of Ryan's hands and his phone was in the other.

"What's that?" Mycah asked.

"This is a lottery ticket I did not buy. I found it in my wallet just now."

"Wait, if you didn't buy it, why do you have it?"

"I think we both know why." A moment later, Ryan handed his friend the phone and said, "Could you please read the winning numbers?"

Mycah did, voice trembling. When he was done, he slid Ryan's phone back, asking, "Well?"

Ryan carefully folded the ticket and put it back in his wallet. In a quiet, disbelieving voice, he said, "You're looking at the world's newest multibillionaire."

"Wha...you...is...WHAT?"

"Those old bastards said we'd be rich. I guess they meant it."

"Why aren't you jumping up and down and screaming? Because Imma jump up and down and scream in a second here."

"Because I just won an obscene amount of money off a lottery ticket that magically appeared in my pocket. I'm a little fucking overwhelmed here."

"OK, so what are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna tell my mom, and then I'm going to see a lawyer."

Suddenly Mycah broke into a gale of delighted laughter. "Holy shit, dawg! Holy shit!"

"Quiet, man!" Ryan urged. "I don't want anybody here to know, shit's crazy enough as it is." He typed a quick text to his mom:

hey i need u 2 call in an emergency 2 school 2 get me out rest of day



Immediately there came a reply:

y is there trouble?

ill explain when I see u but it's really important



i'll call them now

"Hey, you want any of this?" he asked Mycah, gesturing to the untouched food on his tray.

Mycah was a tall, strong guy whose appetite was as big as he was, and he nodded. "I want all of that."

"Good, I gotta go. I'll be in touch later." He got up and headed to the office.

He bumped into Vice-Principal Maretti, who was just coming out of the door. Maretti was Vice-Principal in charge of discipline and if he'd ever liked a student, Ryan hadn't heard about it. On top of that, he was unconverted, and his eyes filled with loathing every time he looked at Ryan. "Oh, McCullen, I was just coming to look for you. We got a call from your...mother."

Seldom had Ryan heard as much disgust packed into a single word as when Maretti said mother, but he could ignore it: Maretti would Jess' cheerleader soon enough. "Yeah, I just heard from her too. Some kind of emergency."

"I'll just bet there is. Listen, McCullen, I don't care that everybody else in this place seems to have lost their damned minds - your perversions sicken me. If I had proof, I'd send you both to prison."

Good luck trying to find a judge and twelve jury members who would convict us these days. "I appreciate that, Mr. Maretti. Am I free to leave?"

"You are, but if you aren't back here on time tomorrow, I will make you rue the day you were spawned. Got it?"

"Understood." He probably wouldn't be here at all tomorrow, he had a lot of arrangements to make; there was no point in telling Maretti that, though. "Have a good day."

"Get out of my sight."

A few minutes later, Ryan was speeding on his way to his mom's office. It was only then, alone in his car, that the reality of the situation finally struck. He and his mom were billionaires. And not just that, after taxes the takehome would be around three billion dollars. He'd grown up solidly upper-middle-class so he understood what having enough money to be comfortable was like, but this was a different scale altogether. He couldn't even imagine what it would be like to be able to buy whatever their whims dictated, to live in an enormous mansion, to have servants, to never need to worry whether there was enough to raise their oncoming herd of children.

Imagine it or not, though, he was about to find out.

He pulled into one of the visitor's spots in the lot of Provider Services and hurried inside. Ashley, the receptionist, was there, and her eyes lit up with joy when she saw him. They'd only met on a handful of occasions, but Ashley sounded like he was her long-lost bestie when she cried, "Ryan! It's fantastic to see you!"

"It's good to see you too. I need to see my mom."

"Oh, sure, go on back," she replied with an unconcerned wave of her hand. The usual procedure for visitors was that they had to sign in, get a badge, and then the person they were here to see had to come out and escort them back; this time there was none of that. "Have fun - and she seemed kind of tense this morning, she could probably use a good plowing."

He walked onto the work floor, and he may as well have been Tom Hanks coming through the door: the vast majority of faces turned to him, smiling enormously, looking like it was the best day of their lives just for him being there. They watched him as he went to his mom's office and waved at her through one of the glass walls - Jess gave a little shriek of delight and bounded to the door, throwing it open to join him. "Babe! What are you doing here?"

"I told you I have something important. Let's go into your office and talk."

Jen glanced around at all the faces watching, then leaned in to whisper, "We'll have to leave the blinds open or everyone will think we're in there fucking."

"Who knows, maybe we will," said, taking her by the hand and pulling her into the office. He closed the door and sat down in the chair she kept by the side of her desk.

Jess sat down in her office chair and frowned. "Are you OK, babe? Did something happen?"

"Something happened and I don't know if I'm OK or not. Remember when I said that an oil tanker full of hundred dollar bills wasn't going to crash into our front door?"

"Yes." Wordlessly, he pulled out the PowerBall ticket and laid it on her desk in front of her. "What's this? You bought a lottery ticket? You never buy lottery tickets."

"I didn't buy it, but there it was in my pocket anyway. An oil tanker full of hundred dollar bills just crashed into our front door."

"Was...was it the blessing?"

"I assume so."

"And you won?" He nodded. "OK, that's spooky. How much?"

"A little over four-point-four billion."

Her eyes bugged out. "Over four million! That's amazing, honey!"

"No mom, you aren't listening. Billion, with a B."

Now her face went completely blank. "OK, that's not right. You must have misread something."

He pulled out his phone and unlocked it. He had already brought up the news page talking about a winner in Milwaukee. He handed it to her. "See for yourself."

Jess read it, then read it again, then read it several more times. She then picked up the ticket and compared the numbers, then compared the numbers again, then compared the numbers several more times. Face still blank, she handed him back his phone and was quiet for a long moment - and then she shrieked in delight, then shrieked in delight again, then shrieked in delight several more times.

Ryan just watched, amused, and then glanced at the windows into the office. Apparently assuming from the noise that he was fucking her senseless on her desk and wanting to witness it, her coworkers were crowded around (and looking disappointed to see them both clothed). He waved and waited for his mother to calm down enough to talk.

She still hadn't done it when Nolan, her boss and the owner of the company, knocked on the door and poked his head inside. "Ummm...Jessica, are you alright?"

Jess tried to answer several times, but each effort was broken up by a mad-sounding laughter and she ended up communicating nothing. Finally Ryan said, "She's fine, Mr. Garvey. I just told her a funny joke."

"Oh," Nolan said with a smile. "Can you tell me?"

"No," Ryan said, choosing to ignore the confused disappointment that appeared on Nolan's face. "You don't mind if my mom takes the rest of the day off, do you?"

"Are you going home to have sex?"

Nolan had been among the first converts in the office, so Ryan felt safe to say, "Yes, we're going home and I'm going to fuck her ass all over the house."

"You're never going to get her pregnant in that hole, son. Go ahead. See you tomorrow, Jess."

"She might be out tomorrow," Ryan said. "Maybe Friday too."

"Oh...OK..."

Ryan helped his mom to her feet and into her coat, and together they went out through the office, her leaning on him like she was white girl wasted. No sooner had they left the front door than she threw her arms around her son's neck and jumped; he caught her with his hands under her plump ass and held her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist. They kissed hungrily for a couple of minutes, and when the kiss was done she dropped to her feet and said, "This is all so crazy. If you bought a ticket, I'd have expected you to win, but it turned out you didn't need to. Oil tanker full of money indeed."

"I'm still working on believing it myself, but I've checked the numbers so many times that I can't doubt it anymore. I have some ideas I'd like to run past you."

"I bet they're good ones."

"That's never a good bet with me," he deadpanned. "I was thinking we should contact your lawyer - well your regular lawyer and your divorce lawyer. If this ticket becomes an item of contention in the divorce..."

"It's in your name, not mine, so I don't think your father would make it a problem. And even if he did, his attorney would sabotage it." Paul's attorney had converted because of magic some time ago - and her own lawyer had recently as well - and it was a struggle just to get those two to treat her husband with dignity and fairness; if they had their way, Paul would be left with nothing but a pickle barrel to wear. "I think we can afford to cut him in on it and make him a wealthy man."

"I'd like that," Ryan nodded. "He's an innocent victim in all this, only he doesn't get the happy ending we do."

"He's dating a hot Italian woman. That's some kind of happy ending, anyway."

Any woman but Seetsahm could be a consolation prize at best, but there was no point in saying it. Instead, Ryan simply kissed her again and told her to call the family's attorney.

They met with the lawyer, a woman named Renee Huston, that evening. They had hoped to take their winnings anonymously - many states allowed big winners to do just that, but Wisconsin was not among them. Once they claimed the prize, the news and the public would be all over them - it would have been true regardless, but now, with the whole city crazy about them, it was going to be absolutely bonkers.

Huston suggested that Ryan claim the ticket and do the resulting press conferences alone, with Jess not there, because that way at least the national media might not focus so much on the allegations of incest. That was something neither of them had considered, and it was tremendously worrying to both of them - the magic might be on the way to changing every human in the Milwaukee area, but if someone came from Chicago or New York and everyone they met told them excitedly that Ryan was going to be knocking up his mom soon, that was going to be a big damned problem. Ms. Huston asked them to hold off for a few days while she made arrangements and talked to some local media folks about how they'd cover it.

That night they went to bed and spent three hours in long, gentle foreplay. Neither of them were in the mood to take it faster than that, and it was an wonderful time of bonding and love. When he finally slid into her ass while they spooned, even the anal sex was gentle and sweet.

They didn't discuss it in explicit terms, but now they both really understood that the magic would take care of them. It wasn't just changing them inside and out and it wasn't just changing the people around them: it was changing the world, bending it in their favor, and it was going to provide for them no matter what. Neither could help but wonder what else it would change.

"Is that the best you can do, you little bimbo slut? Deeper!"

"Oooh, yes sir!" Faith Hegel cooed. With an enormous smile she leaned in and buried her face in Jess' pussy, licking deep, then pulling back to suck her clit, then diving in again.

"She's good at that," Jess said, tugging at her nipple as she watched Faith's eyes. "It seems she likes pussy as much as cock." Jess had just gotten done watching Ms. Hegel suck Ryan off; the teacher had attacked Ryan with zealous vigor, easily swallowing him down to the root, and since she had done it enough by now to know how he liked it, it hadn't taken her long to do it.

"Are you going to return the favor?" Ryan asked, giving his mother's hand a squeeze.

"Do you want me to? You want to watch your mom eat your teacher out? You want to see my face all shiny with her juices?"

"I'd love that. What do you think, Ms. Hegel? Do you want my mom to go down on you?" Faith moaned in delight and nodded her head vigorously against Jess' labia. "In that case, you'd better hurry up and make her come. Be a good girl and my mom and I will double-team you."

It's a teacher's job to motivate her students, but this time it was the student who motivated the teacher. A little over five minutes later, Jess moaned her orgasm; three minutes after that, Faith was standing in the middle of the McCullens' bedroom, whimpering with pleasure as Jess sucked her clit and Ryan tongued her asshole. Ms. Hegel couldn't last long under the assault of the two people in the world whom the magic had forced her to find the most erotic, and when her orgasm hit she would have thudded to the floor had Ryan not caught her and borne her to the bed. He and his mother lay on either side of Faith, cuddling her until she regained the strength to go for another round.

And other rounds there were: Ryan pounded Jess' ass from behind while driving Jess' face into Faith's pussy; the two girls sucked him hard again and then he took Faith's ass in the same position as she devoured Jess; Faith worked Jess clit as Jess rode Ryan's cock, taking his cum into her asshole.

They paused then for a snack and some hydration, and Faith was midway through her orange when she asked, "Ryan, will you please fuck me?"

"I just did, but sure, I can do it again."

"No, not that way. I want you to fuck my pussy. I want you to come inside me. Please?"

"You want his baby?" Jess asked, surprised.

"No. Listen, I...this doesn't make sense and I don't know how I know it, but Ryan can't get me pregnant. I'm absolutely positive."

Mother and son exchanged looks, each as confused as the other. It was Jess who finally said, "I think she's right, babe. Can you feel it?"

Ryan's puzzled frown increased as he concentrated on it. "It's weird, but I'm sure she's right."

"See?" Faith said, obviously relieved. "I was worried I was going crazy. How do we all know that?"

"It's a long story and you wouldn't believe it anyway," Ryan said.

"But it's not just her, babe," Jess said slowly. "I'm pretty sure you can't her anyone pregnant...except me. And you can make me pregnant so easily."

"That's crazy, but...well shit, it makes sense too." His seed was magic, and as they had learned, magic obeyed no rules but its own. The shamans didn't make him fall in love with everyone, then made him fall in love with his one special Seetsahm and nobody else; only love could make his children. "There's more to it, though. Can't you feel it?"

Jess nodded. "I'm always fertile for you. Always. But the rest of the world could come inside me and it would be nothing but creampies. My womb belongs to you."

Faith was looking back and forth between them, baffled and even a little scared. "How can we know all this stuff? It's impossible!"

"No, it's magic," Jess said, stroking the teacher's cheek. "Don't question it."

"There's no such thing as magic," Faith said firmly, her certainty unshaken in spite of the evidence that she was wrong.

"Would you believe alien abductions?" Ryan asked.

"No. I'm a mathematician. I believe what can be proven."

"In that case, Ryan had better not fuck you," Jess said. "After all, if you can't explain why you know something, maybe it's not true."

Faith stared at Jess, then at Ryan. Finally she said, "I guess there might be magic."

Ryan smiled wolfishly. "In that case, I'm going to make sure to come inside you every day after school."

"Now that sounds like magic," Faith said, getting to her hands and knees and pointing her red, swollen pussy at Ryan.

"Kim, did you remember to grab the green bean casserole?" There was no reply to Jess' question, so she asked it again, and louder.
In back seat, Kim pulled one earbud out, filling the car with second-hand hip-hop, and said, "Huh? Someone say my name?"

"I asked if you remembered to grab the green bean casserole."

"It's on the floor back here, safe and sound. Hey, I should have asked this before, but do Grandma and Grandpa know about you two?"

"Grandpa does, and he's not keeping the secret," Ryan said. "He's told Grandma about it, and she's probably heard about it from other people, but I don't think she believes it. Yet."

"Huh." Kim was quiet, rolling that around in her mind for a bit before asking, "Should I convince them?"

"I'd rather you didn't, dear," Jess said dryly. "Things are weird enough already without my mother telling her daughter and her grandson to make babies."

"But they're going to know eventually, right? I mean, they'll be just as happy about it as I am eventually, right?"

"Eventually," Jess admitted. "But I'll be happy as a clam if she's the last one in the city to convert."

"Are clams known for being happy?" Ryan asked.

"Ever heard one complain about anything?" Jess countered. She had him there.

Kim put her earbud back in, but after a couple of minutes pulled them out again. "You know what? You should screw in front of them like you did with me. That was great."

"We could tell," Ryan said dryly. "You made yourself come three times while you watched us."

"You can't blame me, it was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"And if they think so too, do you really want to see your Grandparents masturbating?" Jess asked.

"I won't see it, I'll be too busy watching you and masturbating too."

"So you're saying that you want to finger yourself next to Grandma, who's also fingering herself, and Grandpa, who's jerking off?"

Kim was quiet for a moment, and then said, "OK, it sounds creepy when you say it. Never mind."

Five minutes later, they pulled into the driveway of Jess' parents. It was a gray, chilly Thanksgiving morning with something between rain and snow making everything slick and unpleasant, but between them they gathered all the food that Jess had made to contribute to the feast. Up until a few years ago, Jess' mom had insisted on making every morsel of the feast herself, but Jess had finally convinced her that she did in fact know how to cook; nowadays, Jess brought the special, souped-up mashed potatoes, the candied sweet potatoes, corn spoonbread, and of course green bean casserole, all her own recipes (the spoonbread had become everyone's favorite side from the first time she brought it) as well as two pumpkin and two pecan pies. No sooner had they arrived when the front door flew open and her dad came dashing out into the wet day to help them with the food; between the four of them, they managed to bring everything inside in a single trip.

Of course, the smells that assailed them when they went inside were homey and wonderful: roasted turkey, freshly-baked dinner rolls, homemade cranberry sauce, and of course the stuffing for which Jess' mom was justly famous. Once they were inside, her father hugged each of them in turn. Although this was the first time she'd seen her dad since she'd lost all the height, he didn't seem to notice; like everyone else but Kim and Ryan, he just accepted this new version of her without question or concern. "You're looking wonderful! Any good news for us?"

"Yes," she nodded, "but not the news you want. I'll tell it over dinner."

"Hmmph." He turned to Ryan and said, "Son, if you don't get a move on and knock my daughter up, I might start thinking you're not the right man for her."

"Everything in due time, Grandpa," Ryan replied. He stopped denying it when people asked, because denials were pointless. "We're just making sure we're both ready."

"Both ready? Look at Jess, she's as fertile as can be. Any seed planted in her will grow like wildfire."

"Yeah," Kim nodded. "You guys keep saying one sperm from you will do the trick, so quit screwing around and give her that sperm."

"One might do it, but you should really keep her full and leaking to make sure," Grandpa said. "Wouldn't you like that, Jess?"

Jess knew she would love that, but she also didn't really want to have this conversation with her dad. "Let's get everything in the kitchen for mom."

The four trooped in bearing gifts, and if the stomach-rumbling smells of food weren't strong enough in the foyer, they were dizzying in the kitchen. Jess' mother was working on the cranberry sauce - she made it in her own kitchen, none of this can nonsense - but she looked up when the four came in. "My baby and my baby's babies! How was the trip over?"

"Fine," Ryan said. "It will probably be slippery on the way home."

"You'd better drive carefully, mister," Grandma said with mock severity, shaking a cranberry-covered spoon at him. "You need to get a baby inside your mother as soon as possible."

Jess and Ryan exchanged a look. Grandma was gone. This was going to be a long damned dinner.

Now that everyone was together in the same room, Ryan and Jessica were subjected to close examination concerning the lack of a pregnancy, and Ryan in particular was pressured by three people he loved to stop dragging his feet and just embrace his destiny. He took it like a soldier for almost fifteen minutes before he suddenly announced, "I am going to go watch football."

"Now there's a good idea!" his grandfather exclaimed. "Come on son, let's leave the hens in their hen house. Us roosters gotta roost. Want a beer?" With that, Grandpa opened the fridge and produced a pair of bottles of Miller High Life.

Kim, looked at her mom, expecting Jess to make a fuss about it; when Jess remained silent, she exclaimed, "You never let me have a beer here when I was eighteen!"

"Oh honey, that was different," Grandma said, using the same tone that one uses to address a child being silly. "Ryan is responsible."

Kim took the proper amount of umbrage at that, and she was about to say so when Jess cut her off. "You can have all the beer you want now. The basement fridge is full of it, and you don't even have to drive home."

"Well...fine," Kim said, rising and getting herself a bottle. "But I'm getting inebriated."

In the living room, Grandpa sat in his big recliner and Ryan took a spot on the sofa. The Lions' game was already on, so one unmuting later and the sounds of the NFL filled the room. Detroit was in the middle of a long drive and neither man spoke until they'd scored a touchdown and the game went to a commercial. Then Ryan said, "Grandpa, could you mute that? I want to ask you something."

"That sounds serious," Grandpa said. "What's on your mind?"

"I haven't really had the chance to talk to anyone about this," Ryan said slowly. "In other circumstances I'd have asked my dad, but I can't now. So I'll ask you: what's it like to be a father?"

"The first nine months are easy, your lady does all the work. But when you see her getting bigger, when you put your hand on her belly and feel the baby you made kick, something inside you changes. Everything that seemed important before gets put into perspective. You have a new most important thing in your life. It would take a man better with words than I am to explain it, but you'll find out for yourself soon enough."

"Yeah. That's what I'm nervous about. You know we're not stopping at one, right?"

"That's what I understood. Your grandmother and I are looking forward to a whole bunch of great-grandbabies."

"So...I mean...what do I do? I'm eighteen years old, I don't know how to be a dad."

"You could wait until you're forty-eight and you still wouldn't know how to be a dad. The only way to learn is to do. You'll do great, I'm sure."

Ryan chewed his lip for a moment, then asked, "How long after mom was born did you feel like you finally had parenting figured out?"

"When that happens, I'll let you know. Holy shit, that guy's a slippery little bastard, did you see that run? Guy broke four tackles."

Ryan hadn't been paying the slightest bit of attention to the silenced game, but he still made a grunt of assent, then said, "I'm eager for it to happen, I know we'll all be happier, it's just...what if I screw it up?"

"Ohh, don't worry, you will," his grandfather laughed. "There's never yet been a perfect parent and I don't expect you'll be the first. You just do the best you can. You try to teach your child the...I don't even know how to say it, the structure. It's like you're building a skyscraper, one of the big glass ones? Your job is to build the steel frame all the way to the top by teaching your child right from wrong, smart from stupid, good from bad; but kids are people, individuals, right from the start. When it comes to hanging those big glass panels on the side, you get to do the bottom couple of floors, and then more and more your kid will start to make their own decisions and have their own successes and failures, their own inspiration and mistakes. You just build that strong steel frame and hope they hang more good glass on it than bad."

That was a weird extended metaphor, but Ryan thought he understood. His own days of pushing for more independence and control in his life were fresh in his memory, and he recognized that as a vital part of growing up, but he was still nervous. Lots of people screwed up raising one kid, how was he supposed to raise however many dozen he was going to father? The magic would help, he knew, but he wasn't becoming Superman.

Rousing himself from his reverie, he asked, "Hey Grandpa, how do you feel about me and mom together? I mean I know you're excited and happy, but don't you think it's weird at all?"

His Grandpa looked a little surprised to be asked such a question. "Well...no, it's not weird at all. Oh sure, for any other family it would be weird, but you and your mom have always been a special case. We've always known our little Seetsahm was destined to be yours, just like you were destined to be hers."

Ryan knew that wasn't true - before the island trip, his Grandparents would have been horrified and repulsed by the idea of he and his mom having children together. Apparently the magic changed not only present, but also past memories of -

"What, what did you just call her?"

Grandpa blinked in surprise. "Why, Seetsahm of course. That's been our nickname for her since before she learned to crawl. You've heard us call her that a thousand times. Are you feeling OK?"

"Uhhh...yeah," Ryan said slowly. He had never before heard his Grandparents call his mother that, and he was positive his mother had never heard it either. The breadth and depth of the magic wielded by those shamans was terrifying if he stopped to think about it - why the hell weren't they solving climate change or some shit like that instead of changing the whole world to bring two people together? Those guys were idiots. "Hey, mind unmuting the game? Let's focus on what's really important around here."

"Shit," his Grandpa said with a grin as he hoisted his bottle, "I'll drink to that."

Meanwhile in the kitchen, the ladies were having a good time. Jess was still not used to the idea of her mother cheering for incest conception, but at least she was much less intense and intrusive about it than most people were. They chatted about raising kids and made a long detour through prospective baby names - even Kim, who normally scorned "girly crap" like that participated enthusiastically, suggesting Roger and Elias if the first was a boy and Marlena or Cora for a girl - but they also spent time discussing the Grandparents' asshole neighbor who kept fighting about the property line, Grandpa's worsening hearing loss, and how things were going for Kim in school.

"Oh," Kim mentioned with perfect casualness, "mom and Ryan let me watch them do anal when I was home last."

Jess was just taking a drink of water and very nearly joked, but when she looked at her mom, she saw the woman was smiling. "At least they're doing something together. I was getting worried that they were holding off completely. Sexual intimacy is a vital part of a successful long-term relationship. I hope my grandson took good care of his mother?"

"Oh yeah. He took it really slow and touched her a lot. She started coming a couple minutes in and just didn't stop."

Grandma seemed delighted. "Wonderful! I hope you find as good a man as your mother has."

"Me too. He bugs me a lot, but he's actually pretty awesome, and he looks like an amazing lover."

Jess was used to people discussing her sex life in graphic detail (it had become a daily occurrence) but having her mother and her daughter do so right in front of her with such evident delight was still a little more than she could handle. She turned around to pay attention to the food prep, but her mother wasn't having any. "So is Ryan the best you've ever had up your backside?"

Jess paused to put both palms on the counter to steady herself for a bit before replying, "Yes, by a long way."

"You should have seen her come, Grandma. I've never seen anybody come like that, not even in porn."

Grandma hmmphed and said, "You really shouldn't be watching porn, sweetie."

"Oh come on," Kim laughed. "Everybody does it. Are you telling me you never do?"

Now it was Grandma's turn to blush. "Not very often, but...fine, I do sometimes. What about you, Jess?"

"I used to. I don't have the time anymore. Plus my imagination has gotten a lot more vivid."

The topic of conversation changed to Kim's love life (in vastly less detail) and Jess took the opportunity to scurry out for a break in the bathroom. She took her time - it was the only place in the house where she could get a little peace - but before she left, there came a knock on the door and Ryan's voice saying, "Hey mom? When you come out I need to talk to you."

She'd been done for a while, so she simply opened the door and smiled. "I'm sure you're ready to hammer my butt, but I do not want to screw around in my parents' house."

"Well, shit. But that's not what I wanted to talk about. Did your parents have a nickname for you when you were growing up that you never told me about?"

"No. My mom called me Jessica until I was 14 and it drove me crazy, but otherwise I was just Jess. Why?"

Ryan related what her dad had told him. "It looks like past, present, and future can all be switched around by this damned magic."

Jess frowned. "OK, now I'm scared. I need to know if my mom remembers the same thing."

Ryan followed Jessica into the kitchen, ostensibly to snitch some dressing before the meal. While he was doing that. Jess casually asked, "Hey mom, you know that nickname you and dad always called me?"

"Of course I do, Seetsahm," her mom said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world."Why would you ask something like that?"

"Oh, I...uh...I was wondering where it came from. Like, does it mean something?"

Grandma furrowed her brow. "Mean something? I don't know. I don't think so. Why?"

"I was just wondering. Do you remember where you first heard it, or did you guys make it up or what?"

"Oh, no, I don't recall that all those years ago. Wherever it was, we just thought it fit you."

"Yeah. Uh...thanks. Ryan, can I talk to you in the other room for a second?"

"And put that dinner roll down, you'll ruin your appetite," Grandma scolded him.

Jess didn't just lead him into the dining room, she took him all the way to the foyer where there was little chance of being overheard and they could see any interlopers coming. Once they were there, Jess grabbed the front of Ryan's shirt and hissed, "OK, what the fuck is going on?"

"I don't know, but I'm worried. This damned thing is rewriting the world left and right and I'm scared about what comes next."

"The nickname thing is weird but trivial. But what the hell else has it got in store for us?"

He spread his arms helplessly. "I don't know, but whatever it is, we can't stop it. This blessing has done what it wanted to do right from the start. It's never done anything to hurt us though, I can't imagine it will start now."

She nodded, conceding the point. "I'm still nervous. What's going to change tomorrow? Next week? Who will we be when this is done?"

"I don't know, babe." He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "As long as I've got you, I'll take what comes. Nothing can stop us if we're together."

She playfully socked him in the chest. "Stop being so perfect."

Right around then it got very busy with the final stages of meal prep, and Ryan was shooed back into the living room so a clueless man wouldn't get in the way of the people who knew what they were doing. He was still there forty-five minutes later when the call to eat came - his grandfather was an old man, but damn was he quick and nimble getting to a turkey dinner.

The food was spectacular, and for a while Ryan and Jess could concentrate on eating. Just as Ryan was about to ask for seconds, however, Grandma piped in with an excited, "Oh! You know what just occurred to me? Ryan and Jessica can go upstairs after dinner and make a baby in her old bedroom!"

"That's a great idea!" Grandpa seconded. "Just think, Seetsahm, you'll be pregnant by the time you leave. It's a great way to carry on the family."

"That's not gonna happen," Ryan said firmly. "But we do have big news. I'd tell you all to sit down, but you're already sitting, so I'll just tell you. You know that huge lottery win in Milwaukee a week or so ago? Well...I won it."

Grandpa leaped to his feet in excitement while Grandma gave a delighted squeal. Kim, for her part, dropped her fork onto the floor and sat gaping in amazement, though she was also the first one to recover her wits enough to ask a question: "How much was it?"

With that, the questions came fast and furious and it was all Jess and Ryan could do to give a perfunctory answer to each before they were dragged to the next. Finally they managed to get out enough pieces of the puzzle to tell them their plans in a general sort of way, and enough at least to calm their urge to question. Their urge to celebrate was intact, however, and Jess' parents broke out a nice bottle of champagne ("We were saving it for the baby announcement, but screw it, we'll get another").

It was the boys who did the washing up around here, and when Ryan and his grandfather had finished, they headed back to the living room. Grandma was in her accustomed chair and Kim was spread out on the sofa, taking up the whole thing; once Grandpa reclaimed his chair, that meant that the only spot left was on the loveseat with mom. As he made to sit down, she cleared her throat awkwardly and said, "My mother and my daughter have made a decree that they're going to force us to obey."

"That's right," Grandma said firmly. "I want to see you two lovebirds snuggled up together until you leave. That means Seetsahm sits on Ryan's lap."

If Jess still had the same body that she'd had when they were on the island, Ryan would have argued simply for the sake of circulation in his legs, but now Jess was so much smaller and more than fifty pounds lighter, and he could handle her with no problem. Disagreement was futile. He simply sat down and opened his arms, and his woman slid over and onto him. She cuddled up and tucked her head against his shoulder, while he held her with his right arm and, without thinking, rested his left hand on her thigh. Both Grandma and Grandpa took pictures of the adorable couple, and then everyone settled in to watch as the Cowboys' game came on.

The game was pretty entertaining, and even the non-football fans enjoyed it. Neither Ryan nor Jess were aware of when the hand he had on her thigh began to move, stroking her skin through her skirt, making her nipples harden and causing her breath to come a little faster; however, there came a point when Ryan realized he had worked the garment up high enough that he was now stroking bare skin. He turned to check with Jess if it was OK with her to be doing this in her parents' living room, right in front of them, but he didn't even get the first word out before she kissed him firmly with an open mouth.
A full-on makeout session began, their audience and setting forgotten. Their tongues twisted together. Jess moaned shamelessly as she ground her crotch against her son's erection, and groaned even louder when his fingers slipped inside her panties. She was so wet that the sounds he made slipping into and out of her filled the room, and the volume of her moans and gasps steadily increased until they were positive cries. Her orgasm hit fast and hard, making her whole body shake and driving from her lips a stream of profanities that she had never used under her parents' roof before. It was only when she had come down from her summit that she opened her eyes and gazed into those of her son, both grinning dopily as they rested their foreheads against each other -

"Wow," Grandma said, sounding awed. "That was amazing."

"You guys are so hot together," Kim sighed.

"You two keep going," Grandpa urged. "What better time and place to make your first child?"

It was those three voices that brought Ryan and Jess out of their fugue. There was no point in being embarrassed - it was the magic moving through them, and none of the spectators had the slightest complaint - but they both blushed anyway, Jess much deeper than Ryan. "No," she said, "that's OK."

"We're fine now," Ryan added. "Maybe you could slide..."

"Oh, right," Jess said, standing up to reveal that her juices had very thoroughly soaked through her skirt and created a damp patch on Ryan's crotch. She deposited herself on the other end of the loveseat and placed her feet in her son's lap. "Keep your hands below the knee."

"Hey, we said you had to stay on his lap until we left," Kim protested.

"Make me," Jess said, and stuck out her tongue at her daughter.

"Well, since you just came so hard, we'll allow it," Grandma grumped.

The rest of the day there was uneventful. Grandma and Grandpa each suggested again that the two go make a baby in Jess' old bedroom and Kim waxed nostalgic for the anal sex she had witnessed, but overall the pressure was low and the atmosphere calm. When the second game was done, leftovers were packed up for Jess and her kids - her parents kept some, but there were plenty to go around; besides, Ryan was an 18-year-old boy, which meant he ate his body weight in groceries every 25 minutes.

When they got home, Ryan punished Jess' ass so severely that her screams of orgasm could be heard with perfect clarity in Kim's room; Kim masturbated herself silly all night long.

The next week, on the last Wednesday in November, Paul returned to Milwaukee to work on the divorce. The next afternoon, Jess got a call from him at work. She answered the phone with a cheerful, "Hello."

"Hello," he said. "How are you?"

Three minutes before her phone rang, Jess had gotten herself off at her desk in a rather spectacular fashion, so she was afterglowing something fierce. ""I'm doing good. How are you?"

"I'm about as well as can be expected. This isn't easy."

Oh. Of course it wasn't easy for him - being so immersed in the wizardry meant that sometimes she had to force herself to remember how this must all feel for her current husband. She shook off the last of the endorphins and said, "No, I'm sorry, it's not. How was the trip?"

"Long but uneventful. Listen, I hate to be rude, but I just met with my lawyer. It was the weirdest thing."

"I know, I've been dealing with him on your behalf. I've had to fight both him and my lawyer to them from giving away everything to me. It's this damned magic."

"He spent the whole meeting telling me that I should be happy giving you every penny and agreeing to perpetual alimony. I think I need a different law dog."

"Nobody else would be any better. I'm sorry, it's just how things are now. The magic gets to everyone it thinks is in Ryan's or my way and turns them into avid supporters."

"Jesus. Just so you know, it's not going to happen to me, Jess. I'm never going to be happy about this."

"I've told you what the magic does to people, what it's doing to the whole city. It will do it to you too, sooner or later."

"Right, the magic." It was clear from his tone that, although he had mentally accepted the fact, emotionally he had no idea what was coming. "We'll just see about that. Anyway, I'm not sure this is the best idea, but what are you and Ryan doing tomorrow night? I'd like to try having dinner, just the three of us."

"There's this great Indian place we found," she told him. "It's fancy and there's a waiting list, but we can get a table there whenever we want."

Pause. "Do you know somebody there or something?"

"No, not really. It's hard to explain. You'll see."

"You know I love Indian food. What's the name?" She told him and he said, "Oh...I think a client took me there once when you were sick with the flu last year. Yeah, it's good. Seven-thirty?"

"I'll make sure they have a table for us. See you then." She hung up and immediately texted Ryan the news. This was going to be an interesting meal.

And so it was that the next evening, Ryan and Jess walked into the restaurant at 7:30 on the nose. The hostess, who had been so cool to them the first time they were here, had been changed by the magic and now greeted them with enthusiasm. She sent an equally delighted waiter scampering back to the kitchen to tell the chef they were here and immediately guided them to what the hostess referred to as "the best table in the house," in a corner, surrounded by tall potted plants. Paul was there when they arrived, sporting the deep, tropical tan that had begun to fade even on Kim since her return.

Paul didn't exactly smile when he stood, but there wasn't as much anger as expected when he extended his hand to Ryan and said, "Son, good to see you. Where's your mother?"

Ryan shook his hand, but before he could reply, Jess said, "Right here, Paul. It's good to see you."

Paul's hand froze in mid-shake and his jaw flopped open in a comical look of shock before he recognized her facial features, made young and dark as they were. "Wh...I..."

"You weren't expecting this kind of change and you didn't really believe it until now. Right?" Jess said.

"Uh, yeah," Paul said, disentangling his hand from Ryan's and standing awkwardly. "Kim said there had been some changes, but I never thought...you sound like you did when we met, but the rest..."

"I know," she nodded. "I see it every day. Can we sit?"

"Oh, right, yeah," Paul nodded. Before he could move, Ryan was holding her chair for her, and then both men sat. Paul was still staring. "I can hardly believe it. How much height did you...lose?"

Jess gave him her new height and weight and answered the expected questions (No, it didn't hurt a bit; Yes, I had to get a whole new wardrobe; People who weren't yet ensorcelled were baffled by her transformation but the ones under the spell treated her as if she had always been this way; yes, she was going to have to get a different driver's license).

"I see you don't wear your ring anymore," Paul pointed out; there was no rancor in his voice, just sad resignation.

"No, it didn't seem right. It wouldn't be fair to either of us. You're still wearing yours?"

"Oh, yeah. I guess I'll take it off when we get the details of the divorce agreement hammered out. It's just...I feel wrong without it."

"I know," she nodded solemnly. "I'm so sorry this happened to you."

It was then that the chef appeared tableside. "The McCullens, my favorite customers! What a delight to see you here! I hope you are becoming regulars."

This was the third time they'd been back since their Halloween adventure here, so maybe they were becoming regulars indeed. "Thank you," Ryan told him. "The food is so good that we can't stay away."

"Don't bother with menus tonight, I'll cook you something special, something I never make here. I'll pair it up with the wine, you don't need to worry about a thing!" the chef said, looking so delighted he might just explode. It was only then that he seemed to notice Paul. "And you're brought a friend."

"This is my husband, Paul," Jess said simply. "Paul, this is Bahadur Prasad, the owner and chef."

"And my father," Ryan added.

Paul looked as though he expected an explosion of dismay to follow, but instead, Bahadur beamed and said, "How exciting this must be for you! You must be so thrilled that your wife and your son are together now. You will have so many grandchildren, I envy you."

Paul was dumbfounded and sputtered something that sounded to Jess like it was verging into anger, so she quickly cut him off. "He is. Thank you again for everything."

Prasad scampered off before Paul could explode, but a few seconds later he found his voice. "Exciting? Thrilled? What does that idiot think this is?"

"Careful, Dad," Ryan said quietly. "The magic behind people loving us is pretty intense. If you get pissed off about us, they're liable to get violent, and the police will be on their side."

Jess jumped in to tell the story of the people who'd been severely beaten at her work; by the time she was done, Paul looked disgusted. "Those guys on the island seemed like morons. How did they pull all this off?"

"With great power comes a complete lack of oversight," Ryan sighed. "It's just as weird for us. It's better than people being dicks to us though. At least I don't mind going to school now - it was really bad for a while."

Seemingly eager for a change of topic, Paul asked about Ryan's school (they didn't tell him how Ryan was managing to pull that A in math). That led to a roving catch-up conversation where Paul talked at some length about how things were going on the island, his visits to the shamans, and the status of the people Ryan and Jess knew when they were there (most of them had gone home, but a few were still around). Jess filled him in briefly on her work, but work was work, there wasn't much to say.

The meal was as good as the chef made it sound. It was lamb and vegetables in a sauce so hot it made them cry, but the flavors were magnificent. Paul had been surprised when the sommelier poured Ryan the first glass of wine and told her that his son wasn't old enough to drink; she just laughed like it was a joke and poured for the other two at the table. "If you think that's crazy," Jess said, "try this on: we don't pay a nickel when we go out to eat, here or almost anywhere else. People see us and fall all over themselves trying to do things for us."

"I haven't paid for my own gas in three weeks," Ryan said.

After the meal, Jess said, "Kim told us that you have a new flame."

"Oh," Paul said. "Yeah, Chiara Fabri. I didn't know Kim was going to tell you about her."

"She just gave us the high points, no deets," Ryan told him. "She's nice. She has a daughter, Dafne, who's just a little ball of fire. But...look, I'd rather not talk about them, if that's OK."

"I understand," Jess nodded. "Just know that we're both delighted for you. We want you to be happy."

Paul looked like he wanted to answer that with some sharpness, but he reconsidered - they hadn't wanted this any more than he did. He changed the topic to Jess' many physical changes, asking if she still had a little birthmark on her hip (she did) or if her butt was still freckled (it wasn't, or at least if it was they didn't show up against her new olive skin tone). Mostly he dwelt on whether or not they were painful, and he was surprised that she never felt anything with any of them - she'd just wake up one day and be skinnier or curvier or shorter than she had been when she'd gone to bed.

"And..." Paul began, then hesitated. Finally he forced himself to say, "About you two. It's damned awkward and I don't want to know, but I still feel like I have to ask."

"We share a bed," Jess replied.

"Our bed?"

"For right now. We're going to be getting a new one soon."

"I'd feel better about it if you did," Paul admitted. "Are you having sex?"

"Anal and oral, not vaginal," she told him. "I think you'd know if we were doing vaginal. I'm going to get pregnant the moment he puts it in the first time, I'm pretty sure."

"Is it the magic, or is he that much of a man?" Paul's tone was bitter, bitterer than he had allowed himself thus far.

"Both," Jess said simply.

"But the reason I'll make that happen is because of the magic," Ryan hastened to add. "If I was this way before, both Lexi and Trish Hendricks would have gone home pregnant no matter what precautions we took. I changed too, it's just that my changes aren't as visible as mom's."

For the first time, Paul seemed on the edge of losing control. Neither his wife nor his son blamed him for it, but Jess did hasten to say, "Maybe we'd better close the curtains on tonight. We have the meeting with our lawyers a week from tomorrow, so we can talk more then."

Paul seemed reluctant to let it go that easily, but finally he forced a nod; she knew he would be screaming profanities at the top of his lungs in his car, but that was a safe place to do it. At least he would be out of here before he lost his temper at them. They shook hands again and Paul left immediately; the other two lingered for a few minutes.

"I wanted to tell him about the lottery," Ryan finally said.

"Next week," Jess told him. "That would have sent him over the edge tonight."

"How are you doing with all this?"

She shrugged. "If it weren't for the magic, I'd be a wreck. You know how it is."

He did know: as much as he loved his father, he was simply incapable of feeling negative emotions about having supplanted him in Jess' life and bed. The magic was making sure they were happy, just like it would for a long time to come.

On Friday morning, Ryan had just set foot inside the school and begun to wade through the crowd of well-wishers and eggers-on when he saw Mycah heading his way with an enormous smile. Returning the smile, he headed toward his friend for their conventional dap - but to his surprise, Marcus wrapped his arms around Ryan in an enormous hug and exclaimed, "Bro, so good to see you!"

"Yeah, you too, my dude," Ryan replied, wondering what was up that made his best friend so demonstratively enthusiastic. "How you?"

"Doin' great! How about you?"

"Oh you know, same shit, different day. What's got you so happy?"

"It's just great to see you."

"We just saw each other yesterday," Ryan said sardonically. "But yeah, it's always great to see you, you know that."

"Hey, you mind if I come over after school?"

Ryan frowned. "Don't you have a game tonight?"

"Nah, I'm gonna blow that off."

Ryan stopped in his tracks. "What the hell are you talking about? You haven't missed a game since I've known you."

"I'd rather hang with you and Mrs. M," Mycah shrugged. "What's hoops compared to that?"

Ryan's eyes narrowed. "Are you OK?"

"I'm great."

"So why do you want to come over tonight?"

"Because maybe tonight's the night."

Ryan experienced a sharp, sinking feeling that made him as a question he already knew the answer to: "The night for what?"

"You know, the night you and Mrs. M finally make a baby. It would be amazing to see that!"

Another one bites the dust. Shaking his head, he said, "Don't worry about that, we won't be doing that tonight. Just play your game."

Mycah frowned. "Come on, bro, when you gonna do the deed? You know you want to."

"I don't know."

"Why you still holding on? Stop being so stubborn and just knock your mom up like you're supposed to."

"Someday. Not tonight. Go to the game."

"You sure?"

"You know how pissed my mom would be if you skipped a game to hang with us? You'd be scalded to death by the steam shooting out of her ears."

Mycah frowned. "OK, I can see that. Maybe I'll play instead."

"Good man," Ryan said, reaching up to slap Mycah on the back. "I'll tell her you said hi, though."

"You'd better. And tell her I can't wait to see her big and pregnant."

Ryan peeled off for homeroom, and the moment he sat down he was texting his mother.

it ate mycah



shit <six sad-faced emojis>

i guess its down to me now



last man standing



u and ur father

yeah



maybe im being stupid



maybe i should just give in



whats the point in fighting



u no im game if u r but do u rly feel that way?

i dont no



maybe



it's getting harder and harder to say no every day



think about it 4 the rest of the day

im happy with whatever u decide babe

<heart emjoi> u seetsahm



<heart emoji> u 4ever my 4ever man

He did think about it for the rest of the day. He thought about how the magic was making a soft, lovely landing spot for the jump he and his mother had to take, and by lunch he had almost convinced himself that tonight was the night for them to finally take that plunge. However, at lunch Mycah sat with him and raved the entire time about how great it was that Ryan and his mom were going to get together and have kids, and it hit Ryan hard: those meddling shaman fucks had messed with his best friend. Oh, of course they'd messed with his Seetsahm and his sister and his dad and the whole fucking city - they'd messed with Ryan himself - but the fact that it got inside Mycah's head and messed him up was infuriating. Mycah was the best friend he's ever had, his brother from another, the only person in his whole life whom he'd be able to count on to always, always take his side, and Adouwe and Jake and all those other miserable bastards had fucked with him.

Well. You fucked with Mycah, you fucked with Ryan. So fuck the shamans, fuck the magic, fuck the incessant call in his blood to just lay his mom already, fuck everything. As soon as he claimed that lottery ticket, he'd be a multibillionaire. He could get his own place far away from his mom and far away from the city that was trying to bring her and him together, far enough away that they'd never be able to take that last step that faraway morons decreed for them. Ryan McCullen was the master of his own fate, not some old cretin on an island on the other side of the world!

He was never going to touch his mother again.

He maintained that resolve through the end of the school day, even eschewing the routine sexual domination of Ms. Hegel. Without even realizing it, he had adopted a pugnacious set of his jaw, almost as though he was daring the blessing to take him on; many noticed it, but none said anything. After school was done he marched to his car and began driving for home. At some point along the way, he realized that he hadn't had a single sexual thought about his mother since lunch -

And the very next moment, he realized he had driven to her work parking lot. Why had he done that? He had wanted to do nothing but go home and do homework, but instead he climbed out of the car and headed for the building. Ash, the receptionist, buzzed the door said, "Hi Ryan! Head on back, I'm sure she's ready for you!"

"She always is," he called back, opening the door to the working floor. What the hell was he doing? He just wanted to go home! The employees were chattering among themselves and doing their jobs, but as they saw him one by one they fell silent, staring hungrily. Why? Nothing was going to happen, he was just going to say hello to his mother -

The door to her office flung open and she stepped out, or rather exited her office in a trot that became a surprisingly fast run given the heels she was wearing. They met in the middle of the floor as she leaped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his hips; in an instant they were kissing savagely. What was he thinking before? That he wanted to go home and do homework? What the hell was wrong with him? This was where he wanted to be, and all he wanted to do was his mother. Someone nearby frantically shoved all the stuff off his desk an instant before Ryan put Jess on it and reached under her skirt; she was wearing tiny lace panties that he shredded with a single tug as she undid his fly and reached inside. He settled his weight on top of her, and he gave a loud moan of pure delight that echoed hers as he sank into her up to the balls in a single stroke -
And then he was in his garage, sitting behind the wheel of his car, his cock jerking and sending the last few spurts of his climax into his boxer-briefs. He was still sitting there three minutes later when his phone rang with a call from his mother. "Hello."

"Babe, did you just have - "

"Yes, right in the middle of your office."

"Damn, that felt so real! Are you sure it didn't actually happen?"

"I don't know...wait, check your panties."

"They're ripped to shreds, and...and my pussy is so full of your cum that it's leaking." There was a smacking sound, and a moment later she added, "The combination we make is so incredibly delicious, babe."

"Maybe we...no...it can't be..."

"Hold on." There was the sound of her getting up, and then a sudden increase in background noise as she opened her office door. A few moments later she had a muffled conversation with someone, and a short time after that she was back in her office, saying, "I just checked with Noah Vallejo, the guy whose desk we used. Nothing happened for him. It was just a vision."

Just a vision? No, that was a warning, the magic telling him to knock this resistance crap off or it would take things into its own hands. And even though he had managed to go over two hours without thinking of Seetsahm in a sexual way, now there was room for nothing else in his head but the dirtiest, filthiest imaginings his brain could produce. There was no way off the path. The magic was going to take them no matter how hard they fought.

"You OK, babe?"

"Yeah, just thinking. I'm going to be waiting for you in the dining room when you get home. I expect you to run to run across the floor and jump on me exactly like you did just now. Your mouth and ass are getting workouts tonight."

"Not my pussy?" She sounded disappointed.

"Soon, babe. Real soon." The magic was going to get him before very long; he could feel it and there was no way out of it. But he was still going to make it work for it.

A light snow was falling that mid-afternoon, driven by the incessant wind off the lake. It was above freezing, however, and the constant tramping of feet on the sidewalks kept the white stuff from accumulating. Jess, wrapped up in a warm coat and hat and wearing a bright red scarf with matching mittens, couldn't stop smiling. This was the day that she looked forward to all year more than any other. It was the first Sunday in December, and, just like every first Sunday in December since she was a kid, she was on Michigan Avenue in Chicago, staring in delight at block after block of amazing Christmas displays in windows of expensive shops. When she was a child it was all aspirational, since her parents couldn't afford to buy things from Michigan Avenue shops; when she was with Paul, she could actually afford many of the things that caught her eye, whether she actually bought them or not; now she was with Ryan, and when he turned in his lottery ticket he'd be able to afford some of the corporations represented here - and it didn't matter a bit, because she was still filled with the same childlike wonder she had experienced when she was six years old.

Of course this had been an annual ritual for Ryan's entire life. He enjoyed it mostly because he loved Chicago, but even when he was little he didn't have the pure, unadulterated glee that his mother did. This year, though, he was happier doing this than ever before, because he got to see his woman bouncing with joy. Half the things that came out of her mouth were repetitions of, "Oh my God, Ryan, look at that!" And he did look, not because what had excited her interested him, but because her excitement interested him. Seeing the person he loved most in the world this happy was satisfying in a way he never understood before the magic changed him; now, her shining, ear-to-ear smile made him want to laugh with delight. That's what love was, he supposed.

They'd come up from the south end of the Miracle Mile, starting at the Sephora at Ohio Street and moving north, past Ontario Street. They moved up to Erie Street and looked at Tommy Bahama, the Nike Store (where Ryan made his first purchase of the day, a pair of Air Force 1s), LOFT (where Jess made her first buy of the day, a floppy boyfriend cardigan with lovely big pockets), and H&M. Huron Avenue came next, with Zara, Balenciaga, Brunello Cucinelli, Saks, Boss, and Dolce & Gabbana on one side and Rolex on the other; Jess loved so many things on this block, but was adamant that she could not pay $5,000 for a purse or $9,000 for a skirt - and Ryan told her that when he turned his ticket in, they were going to come back here and she was getting every single thing she wanted.

The most remarkable thing for the pair was that nobody knew them here - no strangers recognized them, no people they didn't know walking up to them and congratulating them and asking them when the first baby would come. They were just people, to all appearance a couple of college kids in love. Any one of these folks would be shocked and disbelieving if told that she was his mother and that they were lovers anyway. Milwaukee had so skewed their perspective that they had forgotten this kind of anonymity was possible.

The first place they went to when they crossed Superior Street was Tiffany & Co., as the lure of diamonds proved irresistible to Jess. She gaped at the window display, oohing and aahing at necklaced and bracelets; it was the wedding rings that really caught her eye. She stared at them for a long, long time before lowering her head and sighing.

"I know," Ryan said, the arm not carrying store bags sliding around her abdomen to pull her close.

"It just isn't fair. We love each other so much, babe. But I'll never be able to wear your ring. I guess the shamans didn't think of everything."

"I guess not. But that's not going to change how I feel about you, not one bit."

"No, I know. It won't change how I feel either. It's just..." She stopped, and after a moment she sighed again. "Every girl wants a wedding. Never mind me, I'm just being silly."

He didn't think she was, but he made no objection to her changing the subject and leading them across the street to the Neiman Marcus and Giorgio Armani. Contemplation of their perpetually unmarried situation put her into a funk, and when they got up to Chicago Avenue they turned left at the Ralph Lauren and wandered west, away from the lake and from the shopping throngs. They had nowhere in mind and they said little - she didn't even snuggle against him as they walked, instead keeping her hands in her coat pockets.

When they got down to the block bounded by Wabash Avenue on the east and State on the west, they looked across the street and saw a McDonald's, a Taco Bell, and a Chick-Fil-A, each restaurant staring balefully at the others across narrow no-man's-lands of wet concrete. Nudging Jess with his shoulder, he asked, "Are you hungry?"

"A little, but not for any of that. Let's see if we can find a coffee shop so I can get a scone."

They turned right on State and crossed Chicago Avenue. Up ahead they could see Arrupe College, which housed the two-year extension program of Loyola University - and across the street, wedged between a Subway and a burger joint, was a modest storefront with a sign proclaiming it Budapest Kávézó Hungarian Coffee Shop. Ryan grinned and asked, "Do they eat scones in Hungary?"

"They'd better if they know what's good for them," she said, the prospect pushing the frown off her face in favor of a smile. They crossed the street in the middle of the block and he opened the door for her.

Inside the place was much like many a college coffee shop - the walls were hung with pictures of people who seemed important, probably graduates of Loyola or Chicago College or the city campus of Northwestern who frequented the place during their student days and went on to do great things. The main things that made the place stand out where a pool table in the back (currently being used by a pair of preppy-looking guys) and an escutcheon on the wall emblazoned with a complicated, colorful heraldry consisting of eight different devices divided or imposed one on the other. Two of the little tables were taken, one by a pair of guys checking their phones and the other by a young woman staring intently at her tablet. The only people working there were a young woman of perhaps 25 years, sitting at the cash register end of a counter, and a black-and-white calico kitten using the woman as a climbing pole; the woman looked up at them as they entered and smiled. "Hey! Welcome to Budapest. What can I get you?"

"Do you have scones?" Jess immediately asked.

"We do, we've got a few pastries," the woman answered, gesturing down the cabinet toward a display case. "Have a look and see what interests you. It's all delicious."

"What should I get if I want to have an authentic Hungarian cafe experience?" Ryan asked.

"Oh, the melange," the barista replied immediately. "It's sooo good. It's got layers of espresso, steamed milk, and honey. It's great for a cold day."

"I'll take one!" Jess said immediately. "What are your sizes?"

"Small, medium, and large. We keep it simple."

"I'll take a medium."

"Sounds a bit sweet for my taste," Ryan said. "Just a regular espresso, medium."

Jess found the scones, but when she found something else, she gave an excited, schoolgirl squeal. "OMG! Babe, we are splitting a piece of Dobos torte!"

"Good choice," the woman called as she started preparing the coffees. "I can barely keep my hands off of it, and the piece is definitely big enough to share."

Dobos torte turned out to be a cake ten layers high, alternating thin layers of sponge cake and chocolate buttercream, and topped with a layer of hard caramel that broke under a fork and added an interesting texture. The torte was good, the coffee delicious, and the two of them found a table not far from the register where they could revel in the flavor and in each other's company - Jess sadness had passed under the relentless assault of coffee and cake and now she was all delighted smiles and laughter, just the way Ryan liked her.

Suddenly and without warning, the woman at the register muttered something in an exasperated tone - something that sounded for all the world like, "Hagdaba, ostoba seetsahm."

Jess and Ryan stopped, Jess' fork and Ryan's cup halfway to their respective mouths, eyes wide. Slowly, Jess turned to look at the barista, who was currently disentangling the little calico from her long brown hair, and asked, "What did you say?"

"Oh, nothing," the barista replied. "My kitty decided to climb on my scalp using those little murder mittens he has."

"But, I mean, what did you say?" Jess pressed.

"Oh...uh...I think it was Hagyd abba, ostoba cicám. It means, 'Stop that, silly kitten.' It's Hungarian."

Ryan looked as though he was thunderstruck as he asked, "So cicám means what?"

"Kitten. Or I guess more accurately, my kitten. Kitten by itself would just be cica. I'm trying to learn Hungarian so I can talk more easily with my grandmother."

Jess made polite conversation about the barista's grandmother in Budapest (the real one, not the cafe) before turning back to Ryan with a huge smile. "So, I'm your kitten, huh?"

"It seems fitting, so I guess so," he chuckled. "Unless you have an objection?"

"No," she giggled. "I love it. Never stop calling me that."

"As you wish, Cicám."

Michael Horowitz's law office wasn't enormous or opulent, but it was clearly the space of a very successful divorce attorney. The furnishings were expensive and modern, the décor was deliberately limited to only a few high-quality pieces, and the overall impression was one of intelligent, tasteful restraint. The big windows along the eastern side of the building allowed a clear and beautiful view of Lake Michigan; it was only on the sixth floor, but Milwaukee's profoundly unimpressive skyline meant there were no tall buildings to obstruct sightlines.

Horowitz greeted Jess in the lobby with an enormous, too-familiar hug of the sort she had gotten used to from strangers and acquaintances alike. "It's so good to see you! Any news on the baby front?"

"None," she said in the automatic way she had developed. "Sorry I'm late, traffic was a bear."

"Oh, no problem," Horowitz replied with an airy wave of his hand. "Your husband has only been waiting half an hour. Do you need to freshen up? Can we get you something to drink?"

"Maybe just a bottle of water?" She didn't want to delay things any more - Paul was already going to be steaming mad about waiting so long.

"James, can you get Ms. McCullen a bottle of water?" James was Horowitz's nephew and secretary, and he scampered back to the kitchen as Horowitz led her back to the conference room. He opened the door, revealing Paul and his lawyer -

And then Paul was out of his seat, his face split by a gigantic smile as he enfolded his soon-to-be ex-wife. "It's so good to see you! How are you?"

"Umm, fine. How are you? Sorry for being late."

"Oh, don't worry about it," he replied, turning her loose so that he could playfully pat her tummy and ask, "Any wonderful news?"

Ah, so that's it. Sorry, Paul, but the magic doesn't make exceptions. "No, not yet. I'll let you know."

"Well what's wrong with that darn son of mine? I'll have to have a talk with him. He needs to get busy making my grandchildren with his mom!"

"It will happen," Jess assured him, patting his arm. "Anyway, I'm sure everyone has appointments this afternoon and I've already screwed up the schedule, so we should get on with things."

James appeared with the water as they were seated, but when he left there were five people in the room:

Jess, Paul, Paul's lawyer Robert Strong, Horowitz, and Horowitz's paralegal Emily. Horowitz started the recorder and began, listing the location and attendees for the record before adding, "We are here today to discuss the terms of divorce of Jessica McCullen and Paul McCullen."

"Let's keep things simple," Robert began. "My client wishes all communal property to be transferred to Jessica. Furthermore, he wishes that seventy-five percent of all his earnings be mandated to Jessica in perpetuity."

"Those sound like very fair terms to me," Horowitz nodded. "Jessica, can we agree to this?"

It had been annoying enough when it was just the lawyers taken by the magic, but now Paul was trying to give her the shirt off his back and the laces from his shoes. "No, it is not acceptable to me."

"We can go as high as eighty-five percent - " Strong began.

"No no no, this is obviously completely unfair to Paul. I want absolutely no alimony or other money from Paul, and I want the house to be solely his property, along with his Audi. There are a few things I want from the house, and of course I want all Ryan's and my personal things. Everything else will go to Paul."

Four faces looked at her in horrified silence, and then four frantic voices began to castigate her all at once. She waited for them to blow themselves out before saying, "Michael, I told you that Ryan won the lottery, right?"

"Of course you did."

"And did you pass that information along to Mr. Strong?"

"Per your request, yes, but that has no bearing on these negotiations."

"It really doesn't," Paul insisted. "I need to do my part for my grandchildren."

"Your grandchildren will be more than secure financially. If you want to do your part for them, then be as big a part of their lives as you can be without hindering your career and your life."

"Well obviously I will, that's a given, but how much did Ryan win? Four-and-a-half billion? Are you sure that's enough?"

She almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. "Yes, Paul, it's more than enough. Both Ryan and I demand you be financially secure too. I won't go forward with any divorce proceedings except under my terms."

The other four in the room exchanged looks that conveyed a negative emotion of some sort - even Paul looked dismayed and sad - but finally they got down to brass tacks. Jess had provided her lawyer with a detailed and precise list of the things she wanted, which Paul and his lawyer agreed to without objection. The next almost two hours was spent with various parties trying to sneak her more money or property and her defending against all attempts to worsen Paul's position. Before the ceremony, she never would have believed she would get divorced, but she never could even have imagined negotiations like this - the only thing between Paul and impoverished homelessness was her insistence that it not happen.

Finally they agreed to a division of property, and Jess warned that she would brook no deviation from it in her favor. Signatures were affixed to the agreement, though it would be at least another four months before a judge made it final and official. It was one of the strangest afternoons of Jess' life.

As they walked out of the office, Paul said, "Hey, I have a favor to ask. I'll understand if you say no."

"What is it?"

"I was wondering if I could come to Christmas with you and the kids. It would mean a lot to me, but I totally get it if it would be too awkward for you or anything."

"The kids and I would love it," she replied immediately and with an enormous smile. "You know the normal schedule as well as I do. Come over whenever you want."

He hugged her fiercely. "Thank you, Jess. That means the world to me. I'm so proud and happy for you and Ryan."

She hugged him back, but she had to let go quickly. "Thank you Paul, we can't wait to see you. But if I don't get to the bathroom in the next minute and a half, I'm going to pee all over this hallway."

"Off with you, then!" he laughed, turning her loose. "And get busy making babies!"

On December 18, Ryan and the family lawyer went to the lottery offices and turned in the ticket. There was the requisite announcement of his name but Ryan did not appear at the subsequent press conference.

The local press had all been contacted by Renee Huston, the family lawyer, to ask them to practice restraint, and the request was repeated in the press release she produced. Nearly every local commentator, from the professional media to private citizens on social media, respected the line in the press release that stated, "Mr. McCullen and his family request that their privacy be respected" and restricted themselves to simply noting the winner by name.

The national press was not so restrained and appeared with cameras, noting the country's newest billionaire and showing one of more videos or pictures he'd posted on his own socials, but the national attention span was nothing if not abbreviated. Within a couple of days the brouhaha was over, except that everyone in the family had been forced to change their phone numbers and the Milwaukee Police Department tripped all over themselves to provide 24/7 bodyguard services (free of charge, of course, and it was said that the officers involved fought bitterly for the right to do it).

Within a couple of weeks Ryan would buy a mansion and start working with an architect to build an enormous estate where the flood of kids that was coming could be assured privacy and safety from criminals and kooks, but for now they were going to spend one final holiday season in the family home.

The family had Christmas Eve traditions, but they were quiet ones compared to many families. Jess made a roast beef with all the trimmings, and then the family went to the living room to watch movies. They'd invited Paul, but before the magic changed him he accepted an invitation from a friend/former coworkers, so he was over there. That was alright, as long as he was here tomorrow.

The movies they watched weren't traditional Christmas movies in any way - every year they watched The Matrix and Kung Fu Panda. Kim had selected these as their Christmas Eve movies when she was seven and thus it had been ever since. This year they did violate the tradition a little by watching Panda first - only Kim grumbled, and only a little bit before she settled in to watch.
There was, of course, one major departure from tradition: instead of cuddling with Paul on the sofa, Jess was cuddling under a warm blanket with her son. Neither they nor Kim, thought there was anything unusual about it, though - even if Paul were here, he would have agreed wholeheartedly that this was how things were supposed to be.

Ryan kept his hands from misbehaving through Kung Fu Panda, although Jess kept unconsciously rubbing his cock through his pants until he stopped her; without even knowing she was doing it, she was back at it ten minutes later every time. It was such a natural thing to do that she actually had to focus to stop it. Kim kept looking over at them, seeing the blanket moving over Paul's crotch, and grinning.

Kung Fu Panda was an amiable good time that achieved it's goals of being amusing for children and, secondarily, for adults. The Matrix was a dumb-as-rocks action flick that pretended to be a very smart action flick, but it too was a good time. When it was done, Kim stood, said, "Good night you two, and Merry Christmas. Love you both - even you, Dumbo ears."

"My ears are not that big," Ryan assured her. "Love you and Merry Christmas. Good night."

"Hey, don't think you're too big to give your mom a Christmas Eve hug," Jess said, climbing off the sofa and spreading her arms wide. "Bring it in."

Kim grumped but hugged her mother. "This is the first Christmas where I'm taller than you."

"That may be so," Jess conceded, "and you look older than I do now, but I'm still your mom so don't forget it. Merry Christmas, baby. I love you."

When Kim was gone, Jess snuggled up again with Ryan on the sofa, both gazing at the presents under the tree (there were a hell of a lot more of them now than there were before Ryan got the lottery money). After a quiet, happy time, Jess said, "It's going to be a fun morning. Lots of presents to open."

"Mmm," he replied with a nod. "I think we'll all be happy with what we get."

"And I bet I'll be happy with what you give me tonight," she chuckled.

"Oh, I know you will be. Want to head upstairs?"

"I always want to go upstairs with you. My butt feels sadly empty."

He said nothing for almost a minute as he stroked her arm with his fingertips and breathed in the scent of her shampoo. Finally he whispered, "Tonight."

She didn't react for a couple of seconds before she bolted upright and stared into his eyes. "Do you mean..."

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean. When you wake up tomorrow, you'll be pregnant."

There was an instant of disbelief, and then her lower lip began to tremble. Suddenly she was crying, tears of pure joy coursing down her face as she threw her arms around his neck and began kissing his face with feverish energy, only occasionally finding his mouth. He let her go, understanding what she must be feeling because he was feeling it too: there was relief, happiness, excitement, eagerness, and more emotions he wasn't sure he had names for.

But then he didn't know what she was feeling, not really, because she would carry the new life inside her and nurture it for nine months. She would feel the first time the baby kicked, she would feel her body change to accommodate it, she would suffer the agonies of childbirth to bring it into the world. He was excluded from that, all of that, and a part of him wished that he could experience that alongside her - until, that is, he thought about the childbirth part. Men were lucky they didn't need to pass a baby out their wangs.

She might have hugged him like that all night long had he not finally pried her arms from around him and said, "Let's go upstairs. I'm going to take a shower, get cleaned up for you."

She was practically bouncing from eagerness. "I'm going to clean up too - it might take me a little longer than it took you, what with all the makeup and my hair and everything. Can you be patient?"

"Hell no, but I can wait. We've gone this long, what's an hour more?"

"Right after we came back from Chicago, I got a little gift for myself - lingerie that I swore I'd wear for the first time on the night we made love for real. You'll like it."

"Sounds like more of a gift for me than for you!"

She giggled. "Men like their women to look pretty, and women like to look pretty for their men. It's for both of us."

"Well whoever it's for, let's give it to them. Race you to the - hey, no fair, get back here!"

The master suite had his and hers bathrooms (a cardinal necessity for a smooth relationship) and inside his, Ryan made his preparations: a quick bit of manscaping with his shaver, a hot shower, a shave with a bladed razor for the smoothest results, drying his hair, brushing his teeth, gargling, a check of his nails (they were fine, he'd trimmed them the evening before), and a little of his mom's favorite cologne. His physical prep was easy.

When he was ready, he stood, leaning with his fists on the sink, staring into the mirror. This was what everything had been working toward since that day on the island when he and his mother had saved a drowning child. They'd fought it - he'd fought it - but it had been like standing in front of a train to try and stop it with your hands. And in spite of all his resistance, here he was - here they were.

He'd given it a lot of thought during the past couple of weeks. He'd felt his resistance waning day by day and he knew it was going to happen soon whether he accepted it or not. Time after time he'd been alone with Jess and the urge had been on the edge of overwhelming his willpower - their first time had almost been in the car, in the kitchen, in the living room, in the basement. But this was the most important event of either of their lives: It couldn't just happen when it happened. It had to be planned. It had to be special.

He'd gone back and forth in his own head for a few days, but once the idea of Christmas Eve occurred to him, it seemed obvious and unavoidable. This was their first Christmas as a couple and he wanted it to be the most special day he could make it. He was half as rich as God now and could afford anything he could think of, but that was all just stuff, just items. It had to be something only he could give her. What gift could be more perfect than waking up on Christmas morning carrying the baby she craved with every atom of her being? He would give her the perfect gift, and nine months later she would give the perfect gift back to him.

Once his mind was made up, all the pressure he felt from the magic seemed to fade. It didn't disappear but it did ratchet down so it was no longer omnipresent - at long last he could think. He knew it would come back with a vengeance if he changed his mind or waffled, but he had no intention of that. This night had been fated since the moment of the first ceremony; he thought it was entirely possible that it had been fated since the beginning of time. In their dreams it felt like they had always been together, always been a part of each other; he knew it would feel just that way once they actually did it.

So, there was no more point in hanging around the bathroom. He pulled on a new pair of boxer-briefs that made him look really, really good, opened the door, and went to the bed he shared with the woman who was to be his forever.

Inside her bathroom, Jess hummed happily as she worked on her hair. She too had fought it as hard as she could, but her reserves of stubbornness had been substantially smaller than those of her son. If it had been left up to her to decide when this happened, they probably would have been doing it by the end of September. She had left it up to him, though, and he had picked the most perfect date imaginable; some day around the end of next September, she would give birth to the first of Ryan's perfect children.

Looking back, it was difficult to remember what her life was like just five-and-a-half months before. Oh she remembered the daily routine, she remembered being with Paul, she remembered not being able to imagine magic was real or that she could be caught up in it and changed by it. But it was one thing to remember something and another thing entirely to feel those memories; she remembered that she loved Paul as a man and a husband, but she couldn't remember how it felt to do that - now he was just a very close friend, beloved for that but not romantically, not sexually. Likewise she remembered loving Ryan in the proper way a mom ought to love her son, but that was vanished now because he was her man, her only man, and he would be so until the day she died. She remembered being happy before, more or less, but now she couldn't remember how; the idea that she could have been happy without being Ryan's woman seemed absurd now.

But none of that mattered anymore, not really. She had been brought upon this Earth to give birth to the most perfect man ever, and then to give birth to the flawless children that she and her son would make together. She was his, and that was all that there was. It was all there had ever been. Sometimes she wondered if that had been true before the shamans did their ceremony and lit the fire between them, or whether they had changed the past and the future as much as they had the present. It was the sort of thought that chased itself around her head when she was up in the night and couldn't sleep; she knew that it didn't really matter, but it was the sort of epistemological puzzle that could burrow under a person's skin.

Finished with her hair, she moved on to makeup. This was easy, because she was planning to keep it light and natural-looking. Back before all of her changes, she dreaded doing natural-looking makeup - it was a significant challenge to make a 45-year-old face look 10 years younger without looking like you'd done a Maybelline factory tour and tried every sample they offered. Now, though, her young, perfect face didn't actually require any makeup at all - all it needed was lipstick for effect and and a touch of mascara and eye shadow to make her peepers pop.

She had shaved her legs and pits in the shower and trimmed her pubes, so all that was left was the clothes. The lingerie she'd picked up was four pieces, but there were straps and such, as well as one piece that quite foreign to her, having worn its like only once before. She could have used an assistant, but she wasn't going to get Kim in here for this because she'd probably want to stay for the finale, and this had to be just her and Ryan. In the end she managed it, but only after several dead-end efforts that were not aided by the fact that, the closer she got to the actual deed, the more her hands were shaking with excitement.

There. The reflection in the mirror was entrancing - never in her life had she looked this beautiful. It was time to go out and embrace her destiny, once and for all. She took a deep breath and let herself wonder what things would be like tomorrow: the magic was supposed to make them perpetually happy, which was a concept so foreign to the human experience that she couldn't really imagine it. She thought of a Buddhist parable she'd heard in a religion class in college: a tadpole was asking his father question after question about what life was like after the metamorphosis, and finally the father said, "The answer to any question you can conceive of is 'no.'" A great change was waiting for her and Ryan in their bed, a great horizon neither could see past, neither could understand.

Time for metamorphosis.

With one last deep breath, she opened the door, making sure she stayed behind it as it moved. She wanted the big reveal to be a surprise, something that they would both remember for as long as they lived. After a moment, she called, "Are you ready?"

"Extremely," he called back with a note of amusement in his voice.

Still trembling, she stepped out from around the door and slowly entered their bedroom. Ryan was atop the bed in his underwear, gazing at her with a dumbfounded mixture of amazement, lust, joy, and wonder. It was exactly what she'd been hoping for when she had picked out this set of clothing. She was wearing 4" heels with ankle straps, sheer stockings suspended by a lace garter belt with satin flowers across her abdomen, a pair of thong panties that matched the garter belt, and a bra that matched them both. Streaming down from her head, covering her front and back, was a gauzy, eight-foot-long veil edged with the same satin flowers as the lingerie, covering her front and back. Everything she had on was as white as a virgin's soul.

"You...I don't...wow..."

She hadn't expected to strike her lover speechless, but the way he tried and failed to form words was absolutely the right reaction for the moment. "I thought...well, just because we couldn't have a wedding didn't mean that I couldn't come to our bed as your bride. Is it alright?"

It took a moment for Ryan to clear his head enough to answer, "No, it's not alright. It's perfect."

She blushed and looked down at the floor. One thing she hadn't expected was to feel suddenly shy and awkward, not at her age and with her experience, but in this moment she felt even less certain than she had when she'd lost her virginity all those years ago. It wasn't that she didn't know what she wanted - she wanted and needed her man inside her. The dreams had told her exactly how it would feel, and she hungered for it. She just felt like a little girl all of a sudden, overwhelmed and lost.

And then he was there, in front of her, hands running over her arms. Carefully he parted the veil in front and pulled it back over her shoulders. With the gentlest sort of pressure, he tucked a finger under her chin and lifted her face so she looked him in the eyes. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You're the most beautiful woman anyone has ever seen. I love you, Cicám."

Her blush deepened and her nerves didn't go away, but she smiled nonetheless. "I love you, Ryan."

Solemnly he stepped back to hold her hands in both of his. " Cicám, do you swear to love me forever? Do you swear to love our children, to cherish them and me, and to be by my side for the rest of our lives no matter what happens?"

I'm getting my wedding after all. "I do. With everything inside of me, yes, I do. Ryan, do you swear to ove me forever? Do you swear to love our children, to cherish them and me, and to be by my side for the rest of our lives no matter what happens?"

"I do. Forever." He leaned in then and kissed her on the lips, exactly the sort of sweet, adoring kiss that he would have given her if they were in a cathedral in front of three thousand guests. The kiss lasted a long time because it made them both feel like they were soaring and neither wanted to land, but at last he stepped back and asked, "Are you ready?"

"I think I've been ready since long before I was born," she answered simply.

He smiled and reached on top of her head. "I love this veil, but it's got to go."

"Don't throw it on the floor," she said. "I want to keep it for the rest of my life and I want it clean."

The veil would up draped over the chair, and then they were kissing again. This time it was no chaste peck on the lips. This time their tongues met where their lips came together and they devoured each other with a hunger that only escalated the longer it went on - and it went on and on, each too hungry for the other's lips to end it.

Their hands moved across each other's bare skin, except that in a few moments he decided her skin wasn't bare enough because he unhooked her beautiful snow-white bra and tossed it onto the same chair that held the veil. She gasped when her bare nipples touched his bare chest. She should have been used to it by now given that her nipples had been doing that day and night for a couple of months now, but this was different somehow. It was more vivid, more intense, and she gasped into his mouth as they held each other close. She had first experienced the sensation of her naked breasts pressed to a man's body more than a quarter-century ago and had experienced it so often since that it ought to have been nothing more than a pleasant sensation, but this was so powerful that it was like she had never felt it before.

Ryan knew her body and her reactions well enough by now to recognize that she was experiencing something overwhelming simply by the way her body stiffened up and the sound of her gasps, but it was their otherworldly connection that told him that her nipples were far more sensitive than they had been when they'd fooled around that afternoon before dinner. In fact, it was more than that, because the way her skin twitched and trembled beneath his touch as he ran his hands down her arms and back meant that she was inside the sensations much more intense than a woman of her age and experience should be. He wasn't sure why that would be - nerves, maybe? Excitement? - but he loved it.

His hands kept moving and so did hers. Each wanted the same thing, and each knew the other wanted it too: to wrap fingers around hard cock or slide them inside wet pussy, but it wasn't the fact that they still wore underwear that prevented it. Rather, their bodies were pressed too closely together to admit a hand, even her tiny one, and neither wanted that to end. Simply standing, kissing, touching, it seemed like everything even though they knew much more was coming soon. Neither could be in a hurry, not now when there was so much to be savored and relished and enjoyed.

His big hands on her ass and her small ones on his, they tried to do the impossible: to pull each other closer. It made the move in the direction of the bed, but slowly, twistingly, so that first he was moving backwards, then she was, and then he was again. Their attention wholly focused on each other, they weren't even aware of their position in the room before his right leg and her left leg made contact with the mattress; in an instant they were falling, landing, bouncing, still in each other's arms as they laughed. Then they were kissing again as they rolled on the duvet; when he was on top she was frantically pushing down his boxer-briefs, and while she was on top he was working with equal alacrity to remove her thong. Hands shoved, bodies twisted, legs kicked, underwear flew to unexpected corners of the bedroom.

A little more twisting and Jess was atop Ryan, her hand wrapping around his erection and bringing it toward her lips at the same moment that his lips were settling on her labia. This was something that they were used to now, seeing as how they'd done it hundreds of times in the past few months; still, it could never get stale or old, because it was all about bringing pleasure to the other. Their height difference was imposing, but they had learned to deal with it by means of him tucking a pillow under his head to hold it up without discomfort; from that position, he could lick her slit and perineum, tongue her opening or ass, and suckle her clit for ages, doing every single thing he knew how to make her tremble. Likewise, she knew that his knees trembled when she stroked the cleft between his balls lightly with her fingertip while her lips were around the base of his shaft, and she knew that his cock would leap and buck in her mouth when she teased his asshole with her fingernail. They could make each other come so easily in this position, as they had done so countless times in the past -

But they didn't, not this time. Without speaking a word, they were saving each other's orgasms for the perfect, wondrous moment to come. This was all about the buildup of pressure, not the release; Jess backed off when she felt his balls begin to twitch and let his orgasm recede, and Ryan released his hold on her clit or took his tongue away from her anus when her breathing took on that near-hyperventilating quality that preceded her orgasm. Again they brought each other up to the edge, then backed away, then up and away again, over and over and over. Their orgasms would come together, when he was deep inside of her, where he belonged.
Even before all their physical changes, when Ryan was smaller and Jess was bigger, he had still been strong enough that he could have tossed her around a bed if he'd felt like it. Now, though, she was like a toy when he grabbed by the hips and flipped her over onto the bed; she giggled as she bounced, spreading her arms and legs wide to show him what he was about to get. "Somebody's eager!"

"Yeah, and her name is Cicám!" he laughed, pouncing atop her to settle her into the duvet with his weight. "You're so wet I could float a rubber ducky on you."

"Now that's just vulgar!" she said with a laugh, slapping his shoulder playfully before grabbing his head in both hands and pulling him in for another savage kiss. She moaned as she sucked his tongue - it still carried her taste, which was one of her favorite flavors in the world. There was another flavor she loved even more, although she had never tasted it outside of of dreams and visions: it was the flavor of her man's seed churned with her copious arousal, and the time was very rapidly approaching when she could have it for real; the very thought made her pussy spasm with delight. It was a taste she would savor every day from now to the end of her life.

But that was later, and right now the thought was driven out of her head by the way Ryan squeezed her breast and how perfect her hard nipple felt poking into his palm. It felt wonderful, but it wasn't enough to make her moan until she felt the head of his hard cock brushing against her pussy lips - and then she made a deep, guttural sound as her hips bucked of their own accord, trying desperately to snare him and bring him inside of her. They failed, though, and his shaft kept moving against her folds, teasing, stroking, and after just a few moments her pussy felt like it was melting down from the heat it was giving off. It was swollen, puffy, aching, and she was pretty sure that if it didn't get filled soon, she was going to lose her damned mind.

Ryan felt almost exactly the same. All he wanted in the world was to guide his painfully erect dick inside of the woman he longed for. All this time, the four-and-a-half months of waiting and wanting that felt so much longer, the constant driving need that they had both denied for so long. The anticipation was all-consuming, but now it was coming to an end; he felt his woman spread her legs even wider beneath him, he felt her hungry wetness against his shaft, he felt his own desperate hunger growing stronger and stronger with every heartbeat. Now. The time was now. He wrapped his fingers around his shaft, brought it to her entrance -

"Wait," Jess suddenly said.

He groaned aloud. "Why?"

"Do you remember the dreams we had? The first ones, when all this started?"

"Yes, of course I do. I remember every dream we've ever had, even the crazy ones."

"Do you remember that I was different in those dreams? That I was a virgin?"

He stopped, eyes widening. "Do you think..."

She nodded. "I'm sure of it. Aren't you?"

It took a moment before he said, "Yeah. I am. The magic has made you a virgin again."

She smiled at him beatifically. "Will you be gentle with me? Just the first time."

Ryan paused just a moment to consider what was about to happen. He was certain that he was about to do a thing that had never been done before in the history of the world: he was about to deflower the woman who had conceived and birthed him in the natural, normal ways. Of all the weirdness wrought by the shamans - and there had been a ton of it - this was perhaps the weirdest thing of all.

Their lives certainly had taken a peculiar turn.

Finally he smiled and said, "Of course, Cicám. I'll make you a woman in the gentlest way I can."

"Just this time," she reiterated with a naughty twinkle in her eye. "Next time, I want you to fucking rail me right through the mattress."

"Oh, now that I can do!" he chuckled as he leaned in and kissed her again. She opened her mouth hungrily for him as she wrapped her arms around his back. Her hips moved too, bucking against him as he rubbed his cock along her slit - he would have slipped inside her then and there had her lips been open in their usual way, but she was a virgin again with a virgin's pussy and big, puffy labia majora swollen with desire. This time, their first time, he would need to guide himself into her without her body assisting him. It was a part of the gift that the shamans had given them: they were made anew, one for the other and each for both. It was beautiful.

Still kissing, he moved his left hand down her body, over her hip, and between them so that he could wrap his fingers around his cock. He didn't need to see it to guide his cock perfectly, especially when she canted her hips like she did, giving him the perfect angle to penetrate her. Her hands were on his back, tightening, grabbing and holding at any flesh she could find to pull him closer, demand him closer, plead him closer.

For an instant the head of his cock felt enormous against her closed lips, but instantly he passed them to nestle against her inner folds. It felt even bigger against her vaginal opening, made small and tight and fresh, her new hymen clinging desperately in its first and last moments of existence.

He paused then, perhaps a second that felt longer to both of them. If wordless sounds could beg, then the soft whimper she gave his mouth did just that.

And then he pushed forward. Jess couldn't help but think ever-so-briefly about the first time she had lost her virginity so many years ago to a boy who no longer mattered; then there had been a long moment of sharp pain followed by discomfort that lasted the rest of their time together. This time though, when she lost her virginity for real, there was nothing but a slight, painless tug and the indescribable sensation of being filled again for the first time. Tears of joy squeezed beneath closed eyelids and ran down her cheeks and they both felt identical feelings of exhilaration at being joined again for the first time, forever, each with the other they had been destined for.

He paused with half his cock inside of her, feeling her untouched pussy spasm and expand around his shaft, letting her grow accustomed once more to something the had felt countless times since she was his age. He broke the kiss so that he could raise himself and look down into the face of Cicám, seeing the adoration and elation that he felt reflected back at him. After a moment she opened her eyes and looked into his for a long moment before saying, simply, "More."

He gave her more with the gentleness he had promised her. Slowly he pushed inside, feeling her body adapt to his presence inside it, until at last he was seated in her fully, balls against her perineum and ass cheeks. She whimpered when she felt him bottom out inside of her, but there was gratitude and delight in the sound. For a long moment they hung like that, looking into each other's eyes, feeling this first of countless joinings, this first of who-knew-how many breedings. He didn't move as she hooked her heels around the backs of his thighs, eyes still locked with his.

"Cicám," he whispered. "I want you."

She quivered in delight at hearing her name from his lips as he was buried inside her to the hilt. "Take me."

And so he did, drawing back halfway before slowly easing back in again, and then again and again and again. Her entire body quivered with each slow thrust, trembling at being taken for the first time, being taken again, finally uniting with its other half. She gave and he took, but it went the other way too and just as deeply - just as much as she was part of him, he was part of her. They had finally become one, they way they had always been, the way they always would be. It was just as perfect as they had always known it would be.

After a few moments of letting him do the work, she was moving with him, hips rising to meet him each time he came down. Forehead to forehead, eyes staring into those of the other, connected, each reveling in what the other felt, they shared heartbeats, shared breath. Both knew that this wouldn't last long, not the first time - after all, she really was virginal and Ryan was a big boy, and now that the initial thrill of being complete was wearing off, she was starting to feel a virgin's discomfort. Both knew that she would adapt quickly, but it was best if this first time was kept short.

Besides, the point of this first time was not to give each other endless, shattering orgasms. Those would come in time. The first time was a symbol, or rather the creation of a symbol: the planting of the seed that would grow inside Jess and would become the first blessed child of this blessed union. Jess didn't just want it, she needed it at a cellular level, the way salmon need to swim upriver to spawn; Ryan needed it in just the same way. That was why Jess' little feet went from hooked over his legs to crossed at the small of her back, holding him to her so tightly that no thrusting was possible, holding him inside her as deeply as she could possibly go. They rocked together, her tight pussy milking his cock with its velvet walls, his body pressed against her hard clit and making her quiver with every tiny movement.

In a voice that was barely a whisper, he said, "I love you, Cicám."

"Say it again," she whispered, her voice tight and demanding.

"I love you."

"My name. Say my name."

Her name. Her true name, the only one he would ever call her from now on. "Cicám. I love you, Cicám." He rolled his hips harder and his whisper became a hiss. "Cicám, my Cicám, I love you so much..."

Their orgasms hit at precisely the same instant, his balls tightening and forcing forth their load as her pussy began to clench. Two pairs of eyes closed, two pairs of lips echoed each other's gasps, two hearts hammered the same rhythm as Ryan filled his mother's vagina with his seed. It was the most complete orgasm either of them had ever had, because it sealed their souls together in a way that only one other couple in all of history had experienced. And when their moans were finished and they opened their eyes to look at each other, each saw the other in a new and marvelous way. They were one.

The shamans of Ranu Ratu be praised.

A few moments later Ryan lay on his back as his mother cleaned their mingled juices off his cock with her mouth. They were just as delicious as her dreams had told her they would be - and now she would be getting them every day, several times per day.

Ryan watched with an adoring smile on his face, stroking her dark hair and caressing her tanned cheek. "You're so beautiful, Cicám."

"And you're perfect, my love," she replied before swallowing him to the root. He was rapidly returning to full hardness, but that was alright - she had between her legs a sovereign cure for that.

He watched for a bit, enjoying the sensations of the perfect hungry mouth on his dick. At length he said, "Wow. You're pregnant with my child. I knew you would be, but..."

"Well, I'm not pregnant yet!" she laughed. "It takes time. I doubt your sperm have even reached my egg yet, and then it can take a day for one of the little guys to batter their way in. I mean, they aren't even really fertile until they spend about ten hours inside me. It might take a week and a half for the egg to implant in the uterus. Only when all that is done will I be pregnant - but I will be pregnant!"

Even as she talked, though, Jess knew something was off about what she was saying. That had all been true when she'd gotten pregnant with Kim, and it had been true when she'd gotten pregnant with Ryan. But getting pregnant by Ryan...

"I think you're pregnant," he told her with quiet confidence.

This time she nodded. "I think you're right, babe, but I'm going to go check. Will you be OK here for a bit?" He said he would, and she vaulted off the bed and dashed to her bathroom where she'd laid in supplies for just this moment. Her hands flew as they ripped the pregnancy test open, and they trembled as she sat down on the toilet seat. Normally you had to wait until you missed your period for a test like this to be accurate, but she already knew what she would see when she pulled it back from her urine stream. She'd gotten the fancy tests with the digital display, and when she looked at it, there it was, bold as day: the word "Pregnant."

A few seconds later she bounded onto the bed she shared with her main and showed him the stick. His smile was enormous as he wrapped his arms around her. "I can't wait to see you start showing. I love you, Cicám."

"I love you, babe. More than anything."

"Now...you said something about wanting to get railed through the mattress. Are you ready for that?"

"Babe, I don't even want to be able to walk tomorrow."

Christmas Day

Jess awoke at 4:27 AM, a thoroughly objectionable time. It was dark and quiet in the room, and she would have been delighted to fall back asleep to the sound of Ryan's steady breathing next to her but for the fact that she needed to piss something fierce. She debated with herself in the hopeless way that someone will when they need more sleep but need to use the toilet; finally, though, with an inner frown, she disentangled herself from her man, slid to the edge of the bed, and got up - and suppressed a moan of pain: Ryan had taken that "I don't want to be able to walk tomorrow" thing way too seriously.

A brief but uncomfortable spell on the can was followed by a groaning effort to rise again. She went to the sink, ran water over her hands, reached for the liquid soap - and froze. There, on the third finger of her left hand, was an elegant platinum band set with a large and stunning ruby; no, not a ruby, a red diamond, her favorite stone in the world. She was probably wearing over three million dollars on her hand! But why? How?

She stared at it, bringing her hand close to her face so she could examine it in greater detail. The band alone was a work of art, magnificently engraved, and the red diamond was surrounded by a spray of white diamonds, each one clear and perfect, though much smaller than the red. There could be no doubt: this was a wedding ring.

But how the hell was she wearing a wedding ring? She had taken off the one Paul had given her, and Ryan couldn't very well have married her (he did marry me). What? She looked up from the mirror to stare baffled at her baffled reflection in the mirror. No church or judge in the country would marry a son to his mother (we are married we have been married) no! What the heck...

She looked down at her hand again before racing out into the bedroom, flipping on the light, grabbing her phone, and jumping onto the bed like a teenager so she landed on her knees and bounced. Ryan was instantly but incompletely awake, shoving his eyelids half open and asking, "Wha th' fuck..."

"Honey do you remember...look at your left hand. No, your other left."

He held up his left hand and saw a chunky platinum band, just as masculine as hers was feminine but engraved with the same motif and set with a small red diamond. "Oh...tha's a nice ring. Merry Christmas, Cicám."

Without looking up as she was flipping through her phone, she said, "What kind of ring is that?"

"Issa wedding ring..." Pause, and then fully awake. "What? Why...oh..."

She found the photos she was looking for, the ones that hadn't been there the night before. There she was, looking like she used to, standing in a white dress and holding a fantastically colorful bouquet. To her left was Ryan in a very sharp suit, looking proud and delighted. Kim stood beaming at Jess' right elbow, while an equally happy Paul stood to Ryan's left. She recognized instantly where the photo had been taken: the veranda of that rattletrap hotel on Ranu Ratu, moments after she and Ryan were married. Wait...

It was Ryan who finally broke the silence. "What date was that picture taken?"

She checked the info on it. It had been taken at 4:58 PM on August 12. "Is that..."

"The day we saved Aneri," Ryan nodded said slowly, uncertainly. "The day of the first ceremony. That was when we were married. I remember..."

"What the hell..." Jess put a hand to her head. "I remember the whole island showed up for the ceremony, thousands of people. How can I remember what didn't happen?"

"We remember the same thing. That huge feast afterwards. Do you remember that?"

She nodded. "I do, I remember walking down that long aisle formed by the two huge crowds on either side, seeing you waiting for me with Adouwe by your side, ready to perform the wedding."

"Yeah, that...but the other too. I remember fighting it so hard these past few months, I remember...I remember we weren't wearing these rings when we went to sleep last night."

"We weren't...but we were. It's like there are two sets of memories in my head, one on top of the other..."

"And both true," he finished her sentence for her. "How can they both be true?" She didn't answer, instead focusing on flipping slowly through her pictures, seeing photo after photo of their wedding on the island and remembering every single thing that happened/didn't happen. Finally he said, "I feel like I lived two lives over the past few months. Everybody at school busted my balls about it, but...but everybody just accepted it too. They congratulated me and just moved on with their lives."

"Yeah...yeah," she nodded slowly. "And some people were pushing us together with everything they had...but they weren't, too. They just...they just treated us like friends who'd gotten married, didn't they?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I wonder what Kim and dad will remember?"

"I'll go ask her," Jess said, vaulting off the bed.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure if you wake her up at 4:30 in the morning she'll remember she hates you."

"Oh...yeah, right, true." Her daughter was jealously protective of her sleep these days, especially given that she got so little of it in college. She sat back down. "We'll ask her when she gets up."

Suddenly he snapped his fingers and jumped off the bed, hurrying to the purple-and-gray painting on the wall. A moment later the painting had been placed carefully on the floor to reveal a wall safe that was normally concealed. Ryan had always known the wall safe was there, of course, but he had never known the combination; nevertheless, he quickly dialed in the right numbers like he'd known them for his whole life. The door swung open to reveal a stack of papers - birth certificates, house and car titles, etc. - and on top was an official-looking envelope. He had never laid eyes on it before, but he knew what it was because he was the one who put it into the safe in the first place. To confirm what he already knew, though, he picked it up and opened the flap, and then pulled out the wedding license that bore the names Jessica Amanda Sweet, his mother's maiden name, and Ryan James McCullen, and the date 12 August from that year.

"Is that..." Jess asked.

"See for yourself," he said, tossing her the envelope. There was another one in the safe that he wanted to look at, one that had been placed there by Jess. He knew what was in this one too, but he opened it nevertheless to see what he expected: an order from the Milwaukee County Registrar of Deeds legally changing the surname of Jessica Sweet to that of her new husband, Ryan; it was dated three days after they returned to the United States. He returned both documents to the safe, locked it, replaced the picture, and sat down on the bed with his wife.

"Do you remember how beautiful our wedding was?" she asked softly, taking his hands. "All those bright flowers? The air smelled so sweet."

"I remember how gorgeous you looked when I saw you in your dress for the first time. My heart missed a beat. It was all I could do not to run and grab you as you walked up. And you sure took your sweet time coming, too."
She laughed. "A girl only gets married to her perfect man once!" Pause, then, "I just went through the divorce negotiations with your dad, but they were finalized this last summer. Ryan, I feel like I'm going crazy. Which set of memories is real?"

That was a hell of a question, one for a philosopher and not a high school senior. He tossed it back and forth in his mind before saying, "I guess...I guess both are to us, but we better see what other people remember before we dig in one way or the other."

Jess nodded. "I so want to wake Kim up right now."

Kim came down the around three hours later, rubbing her eyes and wearing the big flannel jammies she favored during long, cold Wisconsin winters. She found Ryan and Jess waiting for her in the kitchen, but more importantly she found coffee; she muttered, "Merry Christmas" and poured herself a big cup.

Jess and Ryan knew better than to brace Kim about anything before she got caffeine into her, so they permitted her to get half the mug down her throat before Jess ventured, "Honey, can we talk?"

"Ugh, what did I do now?"

"Nothing, nothing at all. We just want to ask you some questions."

Kim peered suspiciously at her mother over the rim of the mug before saying, "Questions can be innocent or accusations."

"Fair enough," Jess nodded. "Our are innocent, but they might seem a little odd to you."

"Odd I can handle. Hit me."

"OK, who am I to you?"

Kim gave her a funnt look, but said, "My mom."

"And who am I?" Ryan asked.

"You're my dork-ass little brother. Oh, and my stepfather."

Ryan exchanged a glance with Jess, and then asked, "You remember when mom and I got married?"

"Well duh, the whole island was there. I took like three hundred pictures. Oh, and I got absolutely destroyed by that cute bartender that night."

Jess nodded; she remembered talking with Kim the next morning about how sore they both were from their demanding men. "Do you...do you remember Paul McCullen?"

Kim stared at her mother as though she were going insane. "You mean my father?"

"Sorry, I told you these questions would be weird. Do you remember when he and I were married?"

"Of course I do, jeez. Are you guys OK?"

"When did they get divorced?" Ryan asked, knowing what Kim would say.

"Right before he left for the island. He wanted to make way for you two to get married. It was finalized in July, just a few days before we left for the island. Am I not supposed to remember this stuff or something?"

"No, it's fine," Jess assured her, reaching over to take Kim's free hand. "It's got to do with the magic."

"Magic?" Kim asked, squinting. "What magic?"

"The magic on the island," Ryan said. "You know, the ceremony and everything after mom and I saved the boy?"

"The only ceremony that happened after that was the wedding," Kim said. "Are you two high?"

Ryan and Jess exchanged a long, meaningful look before Ryan turned back to his sister and said, "Aaaaahhhhh, we almost got you!"

"Are Christmas day pranks going to be a tradition now?" Kim asked with a puzzled grin. "If they are, can we at least keep them until later in the day when I'm more awake?"

Before Jess or Ryan could answer, they heard the front door open and Paul's voice call, "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!" came Grandma's voice, followed by Grandpa's annual cry of, "Joyeux Noël!"

Kim was smiling hugely as she arose from the table. "You coming? It's present time - the reason I got out of bed!"

Kim's mother and brother/stepfather returned her smile, and Ryan reached across the able for Jess' hand. "Come on, Cicám. Let's go be a family."

Epilogue

Seven-and-a-half years later

"Does everyone in this city know you?"

Kim looked up from the display of Pinot Grigios and turned a bright smile on her boyfriend Mason. "Hm? Oh, kind of. Everyone knows my mom and my brother, so I'm just kind of, like, known by association."

"Those people you were just talking to, do you know them?" The man speaking was called Mason, and he had been dating Kim for almost a year. Recently they had begun talking about marriage, which is why Kim had asked him to accompany her to Milwaukee to meet her family.

"No, I never saw them before."

"But they just walked up and started talking to you like you're old friends. You know that's weird, right?"

"Well...people are nice here. It's the Midwest."

Mason paused to consider that. He and Kim both lived in the Philadelphia area, where she had her art therapy practice and he worked for a prominent corporate law firm, and Philadelphia was definitely not a place renowned for friendliness. He had lived all his life there and in New York City, and he was not used to strangers not being assholes. Still, this seemed extreme. "Does everyone here know everyone else?"

"For God's sake, Mason!" she laughed. "It's not a village, it's a city. The Milwaukee metro has like million and a half people, nobody knows everyone."

"Except your brother and mom?"

"No, they don't know everybody, everybody knows them."

"You said they're rich. Are they, like, celebrities or something?"

"Kind of. Ryan is a financial genius, so he turned four billion into like twenty-five billion or whatever in the past seven years. He's a huge philanthropist too. But everybody knew them before they got the money."

"How? Why?"

"I dunno, that's just how it's been since he was a senior in high school."

"You don't know? Honey, your brother mom are the best-known celebrities in the city and you don't know why?"

"You'll understand when you meet them. Everyone does. Now help me pick out a nice wine."

"Your billionaire brother must have a fantastic wine cellar."

"Not really, he doesn't know much about wine."

"OK, well the Giulio Straccali Pinot Grigio is usually good. You can't go too far wrong."

Kim paid for the indicated bottle and they went back out to their rental car. The wine shop was only a couple of miles away from Ryan and Jess' house, and once they got on the road Mason asked, "OK, so what's the big mystery about your family that you never talk about? You said you'd tell me before we got there, and time is rapidly running out."

"You have been patient. Well, sort of."

"It's just usually a bad sign when a girl won't talk about her family, but you say you get along great with them and they're not criminals."

"No they're not...well, nobody here thinks they're criminals. In other places opinions might be different."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It's just that the relationship between us all is a little unconventional."

"...meaning?"

"OK, for starters, Ryan and mom are together."

He looked at her very suspiciously. "Together as in they live in the same house?"

"And sleep in the same bed and make babies. Lots and lots of babies."

"What?!?"

"Don't get upset about it."

"But it's...come on, you can't be okay with that!"

"Of course I am. They're crazy about each other and the kids are awesome."

"But...but...it's incest!"

"Yeah, definitely."

"Do you do it too?"

"My mom talked be into joining a few years back and I love it. I only regret that I waited this long."

Mason looked as though he was contemplating jumping out of the moving car. "You have sex with your brother?"

"He's a great lay, almost as good as you. I have a lot of fun with my dad and stepmom too. Oh, and my mom is amazing, she can get me off screaming like that." She snapped her fingers to illustrate.

"I can't believe this," Mason said, sounding shell-shocked. "Nobody would even believe me if I told them."

"It's unconventional, but it works for us."

"Maybe I'd better just Uber back to the airport."

"Come on, don't be like that. Just meet them, I think you'll love them."

"I don't want to meet them! I mean...Kim, this is all disgusting!"

"What's the harm in saying hello? It's not like you'll catch incest germs and start banging your mom or anything." Though she could understand if he did - his mom was in her mid-50s but had had so many surgeries, injections, and procedures that she looked like a 30-year-old dream bimbo. She was pretty bitchy though, complaining that Kim didn't come from old enough money - maybe a good dicking from her son would improve her attitude.

"Alright, fine, I'll meet them. It would be stupid to fly halfway across the country and then refuse to say hello. But I'm not guaranteeing anything past that."

"Great, that's all I ask," she said as she drove up to a gate that broke a long, 12-foot-tall wall of spiked iron bars. She came to a stop and rolled down her window.

A moment later, a male voice crackled over an intercom. "Who's there?"

"Kimberly Sarah McCullen and a very hot guest. We brought wine."

The gate began to slide open. "Welcome home, Kim. It's always a delight to have you back."

"Thanks, Jackson! I brought you a little something from Philadelphia that I think you'll like."

"Thank you, Kim."

She drove inside and up the long drive that headed toward the enormous, sprawling mansion. "That was Jackson, he's my brother's head of security. Ex-Delta, tough as they come. He's the one I bought that Independence Hall spoon for, he collects them."

"I guess everyone needs hobbies." As they got closer, Mason fell quiet, looking at the mansion. He came from money, but it wasn't this kind of money. Even his mom would be awestruck by this.

For her part, Kim honked and waved at the couple of security patrols she saw along the driveway, each consisting of a man armed with a 12-gauge shotgun and leading a Rottweiler on a leash; they waved back. As she rolled to a stop in the big paved circle in front of the main doors, she said, "OK, there are going to be kids here. My sibs by way of my brother are, in age order, Paulie, John, Carol-Ann, Nick, Ingrid, Marlena, Elias, and Ophelia, and my mom is three months pregnant with the next one. My sibs through my dad and stepmom Chiara are her daughter Dafne from a previous marriage, plus Benedetta through my dad. Oh, she's pregnant too, got to be...what, seven-and-a-half months now? Eight?"

"Your brother impregnated your mom nine times in less than eight years?"

"As soon as one comes out, she wants to start working on another one!" Kim laughed, and then climbed out of the car. "Grab the wine?"

They were met at the door by a tall, sturdy man with a suit and a Lancashire accent. "Good morning, Miss Kim. It's always a pleasure to have you back."

"Thank you, Rawlings. Rawlings, this is my boyfriend, Mason Whitley. Mason, this is Rawlings, my brother's butler."

"It's a pleasure," Mason said, doing his best not to peer around curiously at the décor. Everything was very tasteful, and everything fine and breakable was up out of reach of rambunctious children. Still, there was a wow factor from an entryway this big and decorated with this much art.

"Where are all the kids?"

"I believe the two youngest are down for their naps, Miss. The older ones are undoubtedly rampaging about outside - it would be quite impossible to keep them indoors on a fine summer day such as this."

"And mom and Ryan?"

"I believe they're entertaining your father, his wife, and Ms. Hegel in the Purple Room."

"Great, we'll head up there," Kim said. "Oh, we brought this wine."

"Excellent, Miss," Rawlings said, accepting the wine from Mason.

The pair moved deeper into the house, past rooms that could house tennis courts, past at least one huge stairway leading up in a great curve, past art that held Mason rapt and silent. Apparently his disgust at the activities of the residents of the house could not keep him from being awed by the house itself. They came to a smaller staircase and took it up to the second floor, and then down a long hallway toward a door with a number pad on it. Without hesitating, Kim punched in the five-digit code from memory and opened the child-proof door to the Purple Room, which had appropriately-colored walls, sofas, loveseats, and even carpeting, all done with definite taste and care.

But that wasn't what caught Mason's attention. What caught Mason's attention were the six naked people in the room. Ryan was seated on a chair while Chiara, his father's very pregnant wife, rode his lap with his cock up her ass and her legs spread; in between them was Faith Hegel on her hands and knees, eagerly lapping at Chiara's exposed pussy; to the side was Mycah with his dick down Chiara's throat. On a sofa nearby, Jess lay on her back while Paul pounded her missionary-style. Kim simply smiled and called, "Hi everybody, we're here!"

Five heads turned to the door and called hello to the newcomers, although Chiara immediately followed that with a stinging slap across Faith's face and a sharp, " Tieni occupata quella bocca sporca, troia!"

"Mi scusa, signora," Faith said, and immediately turned her attention back to the pussy in front of her.

Mason stood mostly dumbstruck as Kim casually introduced him around like no debauchery was happening in the room, and everyone greeted him politely (with the exception of Faith, who wasn't taking her tongue off the clit in front of her to say hello, though she did give a happy wave). He only stopped to demand, "Mycah Pryor? The Mycah Pryor, from the Boston Celtics?"

"Yep, he's Ryan's best friend. And this is my mom. Call her Jess."

It was hard to tell what Mason's reaction was to any of this because he mostly wore the expression of a pollaxed cow, but when Jess was introduced to him, he said, "Oh my god, she's your step-mom! I thought Ryan was knocking up your biological mother. It's still weird as hell, but at least there isn't that to take into account!"

Paul laughed and eased up off his ex-wife, allowing Jess to pull herself into a sitting position and then stand. "I am Kim's biological mother, and Ryan's too."

Now Mason was looking back and forth at the various faces assembled her, certain this was an elaborate joke at his expense but unable to figure out the punch line. "Yeah, right. Kim's older than you are! What are you, nineteen, twenty?"

"You're very sweet," Jess chuckled. "I'm fifty-three."

Mason threw his hands up in the air. "You've got to be kidding me! Kim, you brought me all this way to spring this weird practical joke on me? This is in incredibly poor taste! I'm extremely disappointed in you. My mom was right when she called you a weirdo, but I had no idea..."

Mason stopped speaking, because Mason had frozen in place like a living manikin. Eyes glazed, he saw nothing as Kim turned to her father and began to unbutton her summer blouse. "Damn, your cock is looking good, daddy."

"I missed you, sweety," he said. "I wished you lived closer, it would be good to see you more often."

"I know, maybe in a few years." She undid her bra and dropped it to the floor.

"Are you and Mason serious?" Paul asked, watching as more and more of his daughter's skin appeared.

"Yeah, I think so. His mom doesn't like me. His dad does though."

"He probably wants to screw you!"

"Oh I know he wants to screw me!" Kim laughed. "Their family doesn't get along like we do, though. Now, let me get my mouth around your cock, I love how mom tastes on you."

Jess simply waited another two minutes before Mason's face suddenly took on animation again. He beamed at her, devouring her naked body with his eyes. "Damn, now I know where Kim got her looks from! You're gorgeous!"

"Want to fuck?" she asked, holding out her hand. "I have to take you out for a test drive. I can't have my daughter getting involved with a dud."

"Hell yeah!" he said, taking her hand. "I love this family!"

"I thought you might," Jess smirked, leading him toward an empty sofa.

THE END