


Mom's Abortion Revelation

by Sam Jason



Category: Incest/Taboo
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2017-04-24 16:13:24
Chapters: 1
Publisher: literotica.com
Story URL: https://www.literotica.com/s/moms-abortion-revelation
Author URL:
https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=2208&page=submissions
Summary: Mom and son find the truth.
Erotica Tags: Aunt, Impregnation, Incest, Mother, Seduction, Sex Tape, Son,
Voyeur
Average Rating: 4.65






        Mom's Abortion Revelation


"I can't tell you," Gail whispered.  
  
Gail paced faster, then faster across my kitchen floor.  
  
"Then don't," I laughed and pretended to get up from the kitchenette.  
  
"Sit right back down there, Miss Cynthia, Cyndy Ghaworski!" she whispered.  
  
"Why the whispering?" I used a mock loud whisper. This had to be serious. She
never used my full name. AND—she never, ever used my maiden name. I could
think of only a handful of times she had done so since we were small girls in
elementary school.  
  
"I can't ... I can't tell you."  
  
"THAT, you already said," I countered, I thought, logically.  
  
"But, you don't understand."  
  
"I really don't. Gail, I really, really don't. And, I won't unless you start
giving me at least a clue to what you're getting at."  
  
"It's about me," she said. More pacing.  
  
A muffled cheer came from the family room in the basement where Ned, my
husband, my son, Doug, and Gail's husband, Vance were watching the basketball
game. Our team finally got in the playoffs, and tonight was crucial, just like
every other game the guys rooted for.  
  
Gail had literally jumped when that cheer arose.  
  
"Whatever it is, it's got you spooked," I said.  
  
"You have no idea," she whispered. She was back to whispering. As if anyone
could hear her even if she shouted.  
  
The boys' cheer had barely reached us from below.  
  
"So, it's about you," I said. I had found sometimes you can prime the pump by
repeating someone's words.  
  
"Right ... right," she said more to herself than to me. "You see ... I don't
know if I can tell you. I don't know if I can tell anyone."  
  
"If you can't tell me, then you REALLY can't tell anyone. C'mon—we tell each
other everything. No matter how tough, no matter how embarrassing: we always
have each other's back. You know that. From that first day in school to—"  
  
"To about three weeks ago," she added.  
  
"Oooohh-kay..." I said. "At least that's something. What about three weeks
ago?"  
  
"That's when IT happened."  
  
I hadn't really thought about it, but Gail had been oddly unavailable for
about a week back then, and things had gradually gotten back to normal. I had
hardly noticed because we gave each other space without even thinking ...
usually.  
  
Gail and I were the same age, 42. She had twins, Matthew and Patricia (Matt
and Pat) when she was 20 and had to drop out of college. Vance had married her
while working in his dad's plumbing business, and had since taken over
ownership of it.  
  
Because Gail hadn't finished college, she was especially proud that her twins
were going to graduate from the college on the other side of the state in a
few weeks. The first college graduates in either Gail's or Vance's families.  
  
I thought maybe it was the upcoming graduation that had her busy back then.
Now, by her jumpy behavior, I knew it was something else. Something that had
frazzled the usually unfrazzlable Gail.  
  
"IT ..." I left it hanging out there. More priming.  
  
"Cynthia, sit down," she said. Again, my full name.  
  
I spread my arms out with my palms up, and with my scrunched up WTF face on.
"Gail, I AM sitting."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," she said while pulling out a chair and sitting on the slimmest
edge of it. She looked hard at the basement door, making sure it wasn't flying
open, and then looked around her for any other lurkers.  
  
She leaned close to me and, barely in front of a torrent of tears, she
blubbered:  
  
"I'm pregnant!"  
  
**************************  
  
Gail kept splashing water from the gushing faucet onto her face. Then she
would look into the mirror, assess the redness of her eyes, and repeat the
process.  
  
We had adjourned to the bathroom when even I thought she might be loud enough
to impinge on the sports fans below.  
  
"I can't believe it, I can't believe it ..." she chanted over and over again.  
  
I gave her time to react, process, mull—whatever she was needing to do. My
patience was rewarded by a new chant:  
  
"Stupid, stupid , STUPID!"  
  
"Come. Sit," I soothed.  
  
We traded places. She sat on the edge of the tub and I wet a facecloth at the
sink. Then I sat beside her and gently washed her face.  
  
"Ready to tell me how this happened. You know I won't judge you."  
  
Gail grabbed the facecloth from my hand and, with eyes as wide as I've ever
seen, croaked: "Oh, but you will. You will!"  
  
"Let's take it one step at a time. I'll ask easy questions. Little ones. And
you ... all you have to do is answer." I lifted her chin in put my forehead
against hers. "Okay?"  
  
She nodded and took a deep breath, then blew it out.  
  
"First thing: are you definitely sure you're pregnant. You know your period
had been irregular for the past year."  
  
"Yes! Yes! I'm sure! I've bought so many of those goddam pregnancy tests my
car can drive itself to every drug store in town! Every piss I've taken in the
past three days has been onto a piece of plastic."  
  
"And ...?"  
  
"And every single one had a big, clear plus sign or the friggin' word
'pregnant' on it. So yeah, I'm sure. Very sure. And I can feel it. Something
told me—just like I knew immediately with the twins. I knew then, and I know
now! I'm knocked up—but good."  
  
"Does Vance know?" I thought that was a good and logical question. Gail
differed.  
  
"Vance? Are you shittin' me! Be serious! You know Vance. You know we haven't
... He hasn't been interested in a long, long, looong time. And besides, all
those years ago, after the twins were born and he said 'Good, we got one of
each' and he went out and got—"  
  
"A vasectomy," I added.  
  
"Yeah, a vasectomy. Shooting blanks for over twenty years."  
  
I sighed. Without the aid of the "snip, snip," Ned had also been "shooting
blanks" for all of Doug's life. We had been trying to get pregnant all those
years, and now, I didn't know if it bothered me more that we had failed, or
that I knew I had finally given up.  
  
"So Vance isn't ...?"  
  
"No Vance isn't. He isn't. He isn't," she said in a mean and mocking tone. "He
isn't the father."  
  
Then she cried again. I cradled her face into my shoulder, as much to muffle
her sobs as to comfort.  
  
A light knock on the door startled us both. Ned's voice drifted through the
wood: "Game's over and Vance is ready to leave. Everything Okay in there?"  
  
Gail lifted her head off my shoulder, and sounding like she was half under
water blurted loudly: "Woman problems"  
  
"Uh-oh!" came from the other side of the door, then footsteps getting fainter.  
  
"You want to tell me anything? Like who the father is?"  
  
She shook her head. "I want to. I need to. I ache to—but I can't."  
  
"Gail, you know we tell each other everything. You know I—"  
  
"Not this. I shouldn't have even told you this much. I wish I had been strong
enough to handle this myself. I wish ... I wish so many things now. Now that
it's too late."  
  
"It's not too late. You have me to share this with now. We'll get through it.
But, first I need some information so we can sort this out. Gail, tell me who
the father is."  
  
She made a pained face and shook her head "no."  
  
I knew Gail better than anyone on the planet. I knew unless she had been
forced, it had to be someone she knew and trusted.  
  
"Was it rape?"  
  
Her eyes got wide again: "NO! That would at least make it easier in some ways.
I could at least be angry with someone else—and not just myself!" More tears.  
  
I waited, and then asked, "Is it someone I know?"  
  
Again, her eyes strained to pop, this time accompanied by her mouth working
open and closed, but with no sounds audible.  
  
"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" I said.  
  
She nodded 'yes' and lowered her head. "How could I ...? How could I be so
damned stupid?"  
  
"Does the father know yet?"  
  
"NO WAY! NEVER!"  
  
"Don't you think he should? Don't you think he should take responsibility?"  
  
"You don't understand, Cyndy. It's all on me; it's all my fault. I should have
know better. It's all MY responsibility!"  
  
Another knock on the door, a real loud one made us jump. It was Vance's high
voice:  
  
"Hey! Stop the gabfest in there! Gail—let's get goin'! Chop! Chop! Tout suite!
I'll be in the car!"  
  
"Nice," Gail whispered. She got up and looked in the mirror, sighed, and wiped
her eyes dry. She made for the door, but I grabbed her wrist—tight.  
  
"Gail—"  
  
"Let me go!" She twisted and struggled, but I was stronger than her. Always
have been. She couldn't break free. This made her frustrations and anger come
to a head.  
  
"Gail, you're not leaving here until—"  
  
"Yeah—until! So, you want to know? You REALLY want to know! It's DOUG! It's
DOUG! Your SON got me pregnant!"  
  
*******************************  
  
I pulled into Gail's driveway and rested my head on the steering wheel. I
wondered if I would pass out right there.  
  
I hadn't slept all night. I had studied the ceiling instead. But, I really
never saw anything. All I did was go over our conversation again and again. I
wasn't even sure any more that I had heard her right.  
  
Could it be true? My best friend? My best friend all my life? The Godmother of
my only child? My son? Could he? Could she?  
  
It seemed impossible.  
  
But here I was. I had called earlier and said, "We gotta talk." She had just
said "Nine thirty after Vance leaves" then hung up before I could ask a
million questions. The million out of the ten million I had.  
  
I could barely look at Doug. I did out of the corner of my eye and tried to
disbelieve that he could be a father at his tender age. The father of my best
friend's baby.  
  
He must have sensed something was different. It was almost like he avoided me
for the rest of the night, and our only interactions were one-word questions
and answers for the most part. Quite a departure from our usual joking and
playful physical contact.  
  
I peeled myself out of the car, it was another unseasonably hot day. Not
unusual for May in Texas. In fact, we had above average temperatures for about
a month.  
  
I didn't even knock like I usually did. Not even my courtesy knock because I
felt no courtesy in my heart at that moment.  
  
Gail sat, spotlighted by the sunlight coming through the kitchen window, at
the kitchen table. She had a mug of coffee in her hand.  
  
I poured myself a cup and pointed with it at the words on her cup: World's
Greatest Mom!  
  
Gail absentmindedly looked at it, shook her head and said, "I didn't even..."  
  
Obviously she hardly had the will or strength to finish the sentence. I didn't
have the energy to even start our conversation, but, after a descent void of
silence, I said: "Gail—"  
  
She held up her hand to halt any vague ramblings, questions, or accusations I
could feebly muster.  
  
"Please, Cyndy, I've been thinking about what to say to you, to tell you, to
plead with you ... whatever. And I think the best way is to start from the
beginning and get all the way through it in one piece. That will give you all
the perspective I can generate. Then we can have that next level of
conversation. Is that okay with you?"  
  
I took a big breath and let it out while nodding. Gail began:  
  
"You remember about three weeks ago? It was that Saturday? At the end of that
first really hot week we had?"  
  
She was asking questions that didn't need answers. Questions in tone only. Her
eyes weren't on me, and it was like she was staring right through that far
wall.  
  
"Vance was still away on that overnight in Dallas, and he had given me about a
thousand things to get done before he got home the next day. You had
volunteered Doug's services for the morning. Our internet service was down and
I had the cable coming to fix it at three in the afternoon."  
  
"I remember," I said. She didn't even hear me.  
  
"Doug got here at 9 a.m. and I offered him some breakfast. He said he already
ate, but would have a nice cold apple because he was in training. He talked a
little about staying in shape and his track scholarship and how he was looking
forward to going to the same college as my twins. I had been still thinking of
him as a little boy and realized how he had slipped into being a well-built
young man of 18."  
  
"I worked inside, and he did the yard work in that blazing sun. I went out to
him at 11 with some ice-cold lemonade and watched him guzzle down two big
glasses. He needed it because he had taken his shirt off and his chest was
covered with sweat. I mentioned it, and he said I must be working hard too
because my blouse was almost soaked."  
  
"I finished up while he was still working around the pool area. I told him
what a good job he did and suggested he go for a swim to cool off. He said
'no' because he didn't have any trunks. I offered him some of Vance's, and
that made us both laugh. Vance's trunks are three times Doug's size to
accommodate his belly. I keep telling him he's got to lose just about a whole
person in weight, but he doesn't listen."  
  
She looked at me, and then looked away again. "So I tell Doug, 'That never
stopped you before. Don't let a little thing keep you from all that refreshing
blue water there. You earned it. A little skinnydippin' is a tradition in
these parts. You know that!' He looked like he was going to say 'no' but I put
my hands on my hips and gave him my stern look. So he says 'Only if you come
in too, Aunt Gail!'"  
  
Technically, Gail wasn't his aunt, but he had called her that for his whole
life.  
  
"So's I say 'no' but he keeps after me telling me that I deserve to cool off
too. So, he talks me into it and I tell him I DO have a bathing suit that fits
and I'll be right back with towels. I had just bought that cute suit, the one
we picked out at Macy's."  
  
We had shopped two weeks before that. I had gone for a one piece, aqua-blue
with translucent bubbles. Gail had opted, at my goading, for a string bikini:
tasteful, but very sexy. Although it generously covered her curvaceous figure,
it had a tantalizing string tie between her boobs, and one on each hip to hold
things together. It was light green with multicolored tropical fish schooling
through it. She looked fabulous in it.  
  
"It was the first time I tried it on at home. Even still had to cut the tags
off. I looked at myself in the mirror and had to admit I looked good. I had
wondered if Doug would notice, then thought it was a strange thing to dwell
on."  
  
"Doug was already in the water and gave a wolf whistle when he saw me. It made
me laugh, but feel really good—yanno like relieved that I wasn't trying too
hard to still look sexy. He said 'Wow! You look great, Aunt Gail. You and Mom
really scored big. She showed me hers last week.'"  
  
It was true. While trying my new suit on and doing a similar mirror
assessment, Doug had walked by my bedroom and given me a similarly welcomed
opinion. "Not too much?" I had asked. Doug had said, "You kiddin', Mom! You
rock that thing. You have such a great body; you should be showin' it off!"  
  
I hadn't thought about "showing it off" but it had felt good to get the
compliment, even if it's from your own son, who's biased as hell. I had worked
hard to keep my weight down to my goal of 135. At 5'8" I thought I carried it
well.  
  
Gail was no slouch herself. She was four inches shorter and about fifteen to
twenty pounds lighter. That made her 34D's look all the more impressive on her
small frame. Much more eye-catching than my 36C's.  
  
But I prided myself on being the more toned, while Gail was soft and curvy.  
  
Gail continued with her account:  
  
"I put down the towels on a beach chair and walked over to where Doug was
swimming. Although I could tell that he was naked, the water made it
impossible to see much detail. 'Dive in, Aunt Gail!' Doug's eyes took in all
the details of my bathing suit, as I later found out."  
  
"I didn't want to chance a dive on the first tryout of my new bathing attire,
so I tenderly climbed down the ladder. I was surprised that Doug was right
behind me when I got all the way in. 'Feels great, Auntie, I'm glad we're
swimming together.'"  
  
"I had to admit, the water did feel amazing for the first time of the season.
Especially on such a hot day. 'Go all the way under' he said, but I said I
didn't plan on getting my hair wet."  
  
Gail had neck-length, short sunlight blonde hair, parted on the side. The way
she had it cut made it impossible for it ever to look tousled after a quick
shake of her head.  
  
"I relented and went completely under water. What I hadn't considered was that
it brought me to eye level with Doug's private parts. That surprise might have
delayed my return to the surface for an extra split second."  
  
So Gail had seen Doug's penis. So what? No big deal. I had seen it plenty of
times, but had to admit it had been maybe eight years since the last time.  
  
"We swam for a while, and then Doug said he was going to dive. I should have
turned away, but stared at him as he climbed out of the pool, stood still at
the edge, looked into my eyes, and dived. He repeated this a few more times,
and I stupidly watched him each time. my first thoughts were about comparing
him to Vance's blubber. It was nice to see what a man should really look like.
Doug is so muscular and proportioned because of his athletics. It was hard not
to admire him, even though he was your son."  
  
Gail was starting to beat herself up, and I wanted her to go on. "So he was
diving and you watched. Nothing wrong with that," I said.  
  
"Nothing wrong probably until the third or fourth time. I wasn't looking at
his face anymore. I was looking at his crotch. He has a little dark triangle,
and even with the cold water effect, I was staring at the biggest penis I had
ever seen. Even flaccid I could tell that."  
  
It's kind of shocking to have your best friend state you son has a big penis.  
  
"I couldn't take my eyes off it, and I looked up at Doug's face, and he had a
sort of grin like he know I knew. He dove in and said 'No fair I'm the only
one skinnydipping. When was the last time you did, Aunt Gail?'"  
  
"His question took me by surprise, so I told him the truth. It had been the
night before we closed the pool down last September. He teased me that it felt
great and I should do it again. I said maybe next September to celebrate the
end of the season."  
  
"He dove a couple more times and I watched him a couple more times. Then he
tried to get me to dive and I said no. Finally he said 'Then dive off my
shoulders, dive backwards' and with that he went underwater and came up with
me sitting on his shoulders with us facing the same direction. I hadn't done
this in years. Certainly not since Matt went to college. We used to do it all
the time."  
  
"So I laugh and say okay, and he's steadying me on his shoulders with his
hands on my hips and he says 'On the count of three' and he counts and he
pushes and I dive backwards and I laugh. I did a beautiful dive and when I
came up and shook the water out of my eyes, Doug was laughing and holding
something in his hands—my bikini bottoms!"  
  
I would have laughed if this wasn't so serious.  
  
"Somehow, when Doug had been pretending to balance me on his shoulders, his
fingers were untying my string bikini bottoms. They never made the dive with
me."  
  
Now I laughed.  
  
"Not funny! Not funny at all. And, your conniving son held them over his head
when I screamed. 'Come get them' he said. But when I tried to reach them, he
pulled the front tie of my top and before I could recover, had whipped it off
me! Now I was as naked as he was!"  
  
"I tried to get them back, but realized that as I reached for them—and he
always had them just out of reach—my body was making way too much contact as
he lay back and I swam trying to reach over his head. My boobs were in contact
with his chest, and then I felt something else, something poking at my hips. I
didn't even want to think about what it could be."  
  
"I was furious, but didn't know what to do—climb out and make a run for it? He
would sit there in the pool and see everything. I wasn't ready for that. But,
looking back, that's what I should have done."  
  
I couldn't imagine Doug doing something shameful like that. He had never acted
that way before, and I would've thought it was just a prank hadn't the outcome
been so serious. I really wanted to know how the situation had gotten to the
point of them having sex, but thought I should let Gail have her space to have
the whole thing unfold in her own way and pace.  

"Doug took all my hope away of getting out of the pool with my dignity intact
by throwing my bikini as far as he could up on the lawn. That's when I should
have run after it, but I thought still I might just wait there until he got
tired of his game and left."  
  
She looked at me and said, "I wish I could go back there on that day and have
it all to do over, knowing what I do now. You have to believe me. I'm so
sorry."  
  
"Gail, I'm not blaming you. It's Doug's fault. I can see that now. I can see
where this is going. You don't have to say any more." I surmised that Doug
forced Gail in the pool, but she held up her hand.  
  
"I yelled at Doug. Swore at him! He just laughed. All a joke still. He said
'Relax, Auntie, and let's just swim' and swam up to me. I tried to swim away
but he easily caught up and glided against me, pushing his crotch against my
butt—not hard, but just enough so I knew what was there. I remember thinking
that my eyes had betrayed me when he was diving. He knew I had been looking at
his penis. Now he wanted me to be aware of it in another way. And aware I was.
He would swim away and then back again underwater."  
  
"I knew he must be getting quite a view of my naked body. I would try to turn
my back, but he was constantly telling me how beautiful I was and how lucky
Vance was to be able to see me naked every night. Finally, as he was swimming
towards me again, I didn't even bother to turn. Now he had seen all of me."  
  
"I didn't know if I was mad at myself or relieved I didn't have to defend my
nakedness any more."  
  
Gail took a long drink of coffee. I had forgotten I even had any. I mirrored
her action and waited for her. She put her cup down.  
  
"I tried to be more nonchalant and actually swim a bit in my own damned pool.
But Doug, with those muscles and coordination always caught up with me, now
more aggressively rubbing his body against mine. I told him to stop but he
laughed and hugged me close until we both almost went completely under. that's
when he slid his hand down my right arm and took hold of my wrist. Before I
knew it, he had placed my hand on his penis."  
  
She looked at me, and I said, "Gail, I can't ever imagine Doug doing something
like that. Especially to you. You're like a second mother to him."  
  
"Are you saying I'm lying? Do you think I'd make this up?"  
  
"No ... no. Of course not. It's something so hard to believe out of the blue
like this. This is nothing like Doug. Nothing at all," I said.  
  
"Do you want to hear the rest, or go on believing ... believing ... whatever?"  
  
I could feel the tension building in Gail and didn't want this to break her
all apart at this point. "Take your time," I said, and patted her hand.  
  
"My hand was on his penis for at most a second before I realized what had
happened. But not before it registered that it was hard, and even in that cold
water—hot. I called him a pig and threatened to tell you. He laughed again. I
guess it's easier to laugh when you're completely naked and so is your aunt.
He said 'I bet you never felt anything like that before' and I shot back
'Don't flatter yourself.'"  
  
"He swam behind me and encircled my waist with his arms. I could feel their
strength, their power. Such a difference from Vance's flabby hugs. He held me
tight with his left arm and then cupped my right breast for the briefest time
with his right hand. I yelped and twisted, but could feel the palm of his hand
glide over my nipple, which was already hard from the water. He whispered in
my ear 'I always wondered what your gorgeous tits felt like.'"  
  
"I told him he had to stop and asked him again why he was doing this. He said
because he had such a sexy aunt. He guided my hand again to his penis and
again I took it away. This time without saying anything. I told him I had to
get out of the pool because I was getting cold. He said he would let me get
out if I didn't take my hand away for a count of five, and before I could say
no, he put my hand again on his erect penis. This time I didn't pull away.
After all the diving and the contact, I think I was curious in a way about
it—how long and how hard it really was."  
  
"He started counting 'One' ... unconsciously my fingers tried to encircle it,
but couldn't ... 'Two' ... Doug let go of my wrist and my hand stayed right
there ... 'Three' ... my hand squeezed and I gasped at how hard it was ...
'Four' ... I glided my hand up and down its full length, from the tip to its
base. He had stopped counting, but my hand continued to move, slowly move."  
  
I was in shock. My best friend was describing giving my son a handjob.
Shock—but I didn't freak out, I didn't jump up—I sat there—in shock.  
  
"Finally, after what seemed a long time, he said 'Five! C'mon Aunt Gail, I'm
going to towel you dry' and he swam to the ladder and climbed out. He turned
to give me a full view of what I had in my hand just seconds before. I swear
it had to be twice what Vance has. And Vance, on his best day was NEVER that
hard."  
  
"Gail, what were you thinking?" This was the first time I had voiced anything
that could be thought of as judgment. After all, this WAS my son she was
talking about. More specifically my son's penis. Let's face it, it's just a
penis, right?  
  
"That's the trouble: I wasn't thinking; I was reacting. My body was reacting.
You know how long it had been, you know what I'd gone through with Vance. I
had been fragile to begin with, and now with the twins graduating ... It just
wasn't a good time."  
  
She put her face in her hands and cried. I moved over and hugged her until she
stopped. "You don't have to say any more."  
  
"But, I want to I want to get it out. As much as I can bear to explain anyway.
So Doug climbs out and turns. I looked up at him for a long time. Part of it
was looking and part of it was hesitating getting out of the water naked. I
knew it was useless to beg for my long-lost bikini."  
  
"Doug walked to the chaise and got a big white bath towel and came back to the
ladder. I was still frozen at the bottom of it. He said 'I thought you were
cold' and held a hand out to me. I took it and somehow my feet found the
rungs. Then, there I was, naked, and facing Doug—naked. 'Turn around' he said
and I did and then very gently he brushed the towel along my back and over my
shoulders. I had my eyes closed like I was in a trance. The cold water and now
the hot sun blazing down on me, Doug's closeness ... it was all so
intoxicating ... I was so confused. I wanted it to stop and I didn't ... all
at the same time. Don't you see?"  
  
I must have been shaking my head "no" because Gail gave and big sigh like she
was going to give up. "Then what happened?" I asked—I don't know why because I
wasn't sure I really needed to know what happened next.  
  
"Doug took his time drying me off: my back, then my arms, then he reached
around and dried my stomach and breasts—then, still behind me he reached with
the towel down lower ..."  
  
She stopped and took another drink of her coffee.  
  
"Lower until I felt his hand brush the towel on my right inner thigh. As quick
as I could I changed my stance so my feet were as close together as I could
get them. 'That's enough, young man' I told him in my best parenting voice,
but he only said 'Aunt Gail, move your feet apart so I can dry ALL of you'. I
did."  
  
She looked at me, maybe for hope or forgiveness—maybe just for a hint of
understanding. I don't know what my face showed her, but she continued:  
  
"Doug's hand finished with my inner thigh, and now, on route to the other
thigh, rested on my pussy, my naked pussy. All that came between him and me
was that towel. He lightly rubbed it back and forth—side-to-side—then with
increased pressure he rubbed front to back, then again front to back. My knees
went weak, and if he hadn't had an arm around my waist, I would have collapsed
onto the lawn. 'Aunt Gail, this sun's getting to you. We'd better go inside'
he said into my ear, then kissed my neck."  
  
"Then he added 'Now you dry me' and he turned me around to face him. 'Doug,
you're a big boy. Dry yourself' I told him. He just laughed and handed me the
towel. With the sun shining down on his wet body, he looked like a Greek God.
He handed me the towel and I gave his shoulders a quick wipe and then his
chest. 'There' I said and turned to go into the house. 'You forgot my stomach
and legs.'"  
  
"I had been avoiding looking lower than his face, but now I did. That's when I
got my first real view of Doug's cock."  
  
The word "cock" made me give an involuntary shudder. I shifted in my chair.  
  
"It must be over eight inches long, and thick, really thick. The head of it is
even wider at its start, where the purplish ring surrounds it. I dried his
stomach and avoided his penis. 'My legs, Aunt Gail' and he put pressure on my
shoulders. My knees were weakened to begin with, but there I found myself
kneeling in front of your son. I dried one leg, then the other, keeping my
head down the whole time. I let my eyes come up and just inches from my face
was the tip of his cock. A little bead of fluid was at the end."  
  
"I stood up and told him 'Okay, you do the rest' but he took my hand and said
'You don't need the towel for this part' and put my hand on his hot cock. I
made a motion to pull back, but he held me there until I grasped it. I
couldn't believe I was in the middle of my own yard with Doug—Doug who had
played there all his life. Now he was playing another game. A game with his
stupid Aunt. In a soft voice he said 'Let's go inside.'"  
  
Gail's phone rang loudly on the table and made us both jump. "Hello?" she said
into it then listened for a few seconds. Then she looked at her watch. She
said, "Oh, Mr. Eldon, I'm so sorry. I'm running late and will be there in five
minutes. Just hang on, and I'll be right there!"  
  
"Client?" I asked, knowing the answer. Gail was a Real Estate agent and had
appointments at all hours of the day and evening.  
  
"How could I have lost track of the time? Gotta go!" She finished her coffee
and took her cup and mine to the sink.  
  
We walked out to our cars and I asked, "Can't you tell me what happened next?
I mean ... anything?"  
  
"No time," she said, and got in her car.  
  
When Gail was in business mode, she was focused to the max. I got in my car,
started it and stared straight ahead, visions of all she had told me swimming
in front of my eyes.  
  
That's when a sharp rap at my window made me jump. It was Gail. She made the
motion to roll down the window.  
  
"One thing I WILL tell you," she said and looked around her.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
She leaned close and said: "Doug made me cum!"  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
"Your son made me cum harder than I ever did before! EVER!"  
  
*********************************  
  
I turned the pages of my magazine as I sat on the couch in the living room,
but I don't remember a single one. I doubt if any even registered on my brain.  
  
It was stunning enough that Gail was pregnant. Shocking that Doug was the
father. But—the way Gail described it—the audacious seduction by my son ...
THAT was the most shameful of all.  
  
I heard the back door open and slam, my son's trademark.  
  
"DOUG! In here!" I called.  
  
"I've got things to do, Mom!" he called back.  
  
"In here! NOW!"  
  
When Doug rounded the corner, i didn't look at him the same way. Always before
I had seen the same handsome, strong boy I'd raised for 18 years. Now I saw a
young man, a man who had sex with a woman his mother's age, a woman he had
known all his life. And, he had gotten her pregnant.  
  
"Yeah, Mom?"  
  
"Sit," I said.  
  
He sat close and leaned and kissed my cheek, just like always. But it didn't
feel the same. Not after what I had heard that morning.  
  
"I talked with your Aunt Gail this morning."  
  
"And...?"  
  
"Don't act all innocent with me. She told me about three weeks ago. About the
pool."  
  
"AWWW! I KNEW IT!" He got up and paced back and forth.  
  
"Sit!" He sat down again.  
  
"I knew she would tell you. Even though we promised each other we would never
tell anyone else."  
  
"This is serious, Doug. What were you thinking. She's your Aunt, for God's
sake."  
  
"Not my real aunt, not like yours or Dad's sister like."  
  
"That doesn't make it any better. She's treated you like her own son your
whole life. And now you've crossed the line, a very serious line."  
  
I had to hold back because I had promised Gail I would let HER tell Doug she
was pregnant. I had to respect her wishes with something that sacred.  
  
"Aww, Mom, it just happened. That's all. It just happened."  
  
"It doesn't sound like it just happened to me. You don't get that idea in your
head on the spur of the moment."  
  
"Okay, so maybe for the past couple of years I wondered what it would be
like."  
  
"Wondered what would be like?" I asked, curious about how this all came about.  
  
"Yanno, like I wondered what Aunt Gail looked like naked. I always thought she
was beautiful, even when I was real young. But then a few years ago, maybe
when I got into high school, I began thinking she was sexy too."  
  
"Look, all boys have fantasies, but they stay fantasies. You took it too far.
Way too far. I can't believe you did that!"  
  
"It all just kinda fell into place. I've looked at Aunt Gail swimming there
and she's bragged about her swimming naked at nights lots of times. So when
she told me it was okay for me to swim naked, I just put two and two together
when she got into the water. It was a joke to start."  
  
"It didn't stay a joke, did it. It led to something that's outrageous. How did
it get so out of hand?"  
  
"Do you really wanna know? Or are you just talking?"  
  
I had heard Gail's version, but I didn't know if I'd be too embarrassed to
hear any details from my own son.  
  
"Maybe your mother isn't someone—"  
  
"Oh, so you ask the question and then don't have the courage for the answer.
You only want to accuse me, like it's totally my fault and don't want to hear
my side of it. FINE!" Doug stormed out of the room and I heard his bedroom
door slam.  
  
I waited, thinking over what he had said, and realized I was wrong not to let
him talk. I knocked on his bedroom door, "Doug?"  
  
"Go 'way!"  
  
"I want to hear what you have to say. Please, can I come in?"  
  
I didn't wait, and opened the door. He was sitting at his desk with his
computer. He closed its cover when I entered.  
  
"I didn't say come in, yanno."  
  
"I know, but this is important. I want to give you a chance to explain. You
know we could always talk about anything."  
  
"So, are your going to interrogate me, or can I just talk?"  
  
"How about a little of the first, and a lot of the second?" I smiled, and Doug
smiled too.  
  
"Yeah, that sounds fair."  
  
"You were in the pool ..." I prompted, to get his story back on track.  
  
"Yeah, and Aunt Gail come down wearing a killer bikini with these things tied
on her hips and on her chest. She gets in and we start playing around and I
thought it would be my dream come true if we were both naked together. You
don't know how many times I ... you know."  
  
"Masturbated?" From his sheets, underwear, and tissues in his basket, I could
well imagine how many times.  
  
"Yeah, so I saw my chance and I pulled the strings on the bottom half and off
they flew. And then while she was struggling I grabbed the top too. A few
underwater swims gave me what I had imagined all these years."  
  
"It wasn't right. Sometimes imagination is better than the real thing, young
man."  
  
"Not in this case. Aunt Gail has a gorgeous body. All of her."  
  
I admit she did, and now my son was an eye witness to the fact.  
  
"So she won't get out of the pool now. Too embarrassed or something. But I
wasn't embarrassed, so I got out and starting diving off the side of the pool.
I start noticing Aunt Gail is watching me a little bit, and then she stops and
gets closer to watch every time I'm facing her."  
  
"Maybe that's just your imagination."  
  
"No way. And get this: she's not looking at my face; she's looking at my cock.
Did she tell you I have a big cock? Even the guys in the locker room admit
it."  
  
"Please, Doug. All guys love to brag."  
  
"Even Aunt Gail said it was bigger than Uncle Vance."  
  
I laughed. "From what your aunt has said, that's not saying much."  
  
Before I could protest or even react, Doug got up and hooked his thumbs in the
waistband of his running shorts and pulled them down to his knees. He
straightened up and, without the least tone of shame said: "See!"  
  
I should have turned away. I should have at least closed my eyes. I should
have said something. But, I didn't. The sheer surprise that my own son would
do such a thing in front of his mother would have been enough, but added to
that was the sight before me:  
  
My son had the biggest penis I had ever seen. Even flaccid, it had to be seven
inches long. And—so thick. My husband certainly had nothing to compare to this
in his pants.  
  
It must have been only a few seconds of silence, but it felt like way more
when Doug said, "Mom? Mom?"  
  
I had been staring at it the whole time. I thought Gail had been exaggerating,
but now I thought she underestimated its size.  
  
"What do you think?" Doug's words brought me back to the moment.  
  
"I think you should be ashamed of yourself—a prank like this. Pull those up
this minute." I tried to sound angrier than I was. Part of me wanted to know
what Gail had experienced. Gail had also seen that thing erect, something I
would NEVER see.  
  
Doug tugged up his shorts and said, "So Aunt Gail is looking, like you were,
and I can tell she's getting horny."  
  
"DOUG!"  
  
"Mom! It's true. You can tell!"  
  
Now I wondered back to when he said "like you were" if he were mistakenly
implying ...?  
  
"Plus, I've heard you and her complain a million times about Dad and Uncle
Vance not, shall we say, not paying enough attention to you in the bedroom."  
  
"Doug—"  
  
"Admit it's true. So I assumed maybe Aunt Gail was feeling a little neglected
and things proved to be true. Simple as that. Aunt Gail needed it and I'm glad
I was the one to give it to her."  
  
"I'm sure your aunt would see it a different way. From what she said, you were
very aggressive and—"  
  
"Why would you think I'd lie about her getting horny? Did she tell you how
things happened?"  
  
"Only about the pool."  
  
"Not about on the couch?"  
  
"On the couch?" I'm sure I looked dumbfounded.  
  
"That's where we did it. On the couch in the living room."  
  
My mind hadn't progressed to the fact that they actually "did it." I knew in
order to get pregnant a couple has to "do it" but it never dawned on me that
the "coupling" had occurred in deed as well as in abstract concept.  
  
"I'm sure the next time I talk to your aunt, she'll fill me in on the details.
Or maybe I don't even want to know any more."  
  
"So," Doug said, "you wouldn't want to ... like watch it?"  
  
"What?" That seemed to be my favorite word today. So much that needed further
explanation because my mind was totally blown.  
  
"I have a video of when we did it," he said as if he were telling me he
changed the channel on the TV.  
  
"Does your Aunt know you recorded it?"  
  
"I didn't record it, she did. Actually maybe it's Uncle Vance that did
technically. But, no, she doesn't know I have it."  
  
"I don't understand this at all. Explain, please."  
  
"You know Uncle Vance has a home security system, right?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
"Well, there are two cameras in the living room. Aunt Gail, while cleaning had
unplugged them and put them, as it turned out in just the right spots. For me,
that is. She thought they were off while unplugged, but I explained they had a
battery that kept them going. Luckily their internet was down that day, or
Uncle Vance would have been able to check in on his phone and really get and
eyeful."  
  
"So you got video from those cameras?"  
  
"Yeah. After we were done, I explained to Aunt Gail that the cameras had
recorded us. She was all upset, but I told her all I had to do was erase the
memory cards in them using my computer in my backpack. So, even while she was
watching, I copied the files before erasing them."  

"So you KEPT them?"  
  
"Yeah, I edited the two cameras together so I got the best parts of each and
made one video. I watch it every once in a while. It gets better all the
time."  
  
I imagined Gail would be mortified if she knew a sex tape, of all things,
existed of her ... of her and her best friend's 18-year-old son.  
  
"You have to destroy it. Right now!"  
  
"Mom! I want to keep it. Besides, I could tell you I did and have it copied in
a million places. So ... do you want to see it or not? It will answer lots of
your questions. I have it right here on a USB drive. Even you know what that
is." He held up a ruby red piece of plastic.  
  
"Don't treat me like I'm dumb. And, NO, I DON'T want to see it. NEVER!" I got
up and stomped out of his room, slamming the door behind me.  
  
I walked down the hall and into the kitchen. Then I stomped back to his room,
gave a loud knock and just stuck my hand in. When I felt something pressed
into my palm, I pulled back and closed the door.  
  
It was ruby red.  
  
******************************  
  
"Thinking about what you want for a graduation gift?" Ned asked. "That set of
golf clubs you were talking about are pretty sweet!"  
  
Ned was proud of our son and was looking forward to the next phase of his life
as he left our small town for college and the big city.  
  
"I'm pretty sure about what I want. I've been thinking of it for a long time,
and I have a few more things to weigh before I tell you." He took a bite of
food off his plate and smiled at me, like I knew what he meant (which I
didn't).  
  
"Nothing's too good for my boy. How many times have I told you that, Cyndy?"  
  
"Just about every night, Ned.  
  
Ned was a good father. He loved Doug as much as a father could. He loved
having him around, a child in the house. For years we had tried to have
another, but it never happened. Work and some health problems had gotten in
his way, and our love life had gone from okay, to routine, to sporadic, to
nonexistent. It had been over two years since we "made love." If Gail hadn't
been experiencing similar complaints, I would have thought I was the
exception.  
  
"Anything exciting happen today?" Ned asked.  
  
"I showed Mom something exciting that surprised her," Doug said while
suppressing a laugh.  
  
"And what was that, Cyndy?"  
  
"Doug thought he saw a woodcock, but I think it was a cuckoo!" I laughed,
pleased at my own quick wit. Even Doug made a face, then laughed.  
  
"Birds, eh? Real exciting stuff happening around here. The only exciting thing
in the office is this charity raffle." Ned pulled out a ticket from his wallet
and handed it to me.  
  
I read: "For the benefit orphaned children. First prize: Dinner and overnight
stay at the Hotel Cielo."  
  
"That's a four star hotel. Love to win that and spend a romantic night away.
Wouldn't that be nice for a change, Cyndy?" He poked Doug and said, "Sorry, no
kids allowed. Dinner, some dancing, and then I turn on the ol' charm, if you
know what I mean!"  
  
If charm is falling asleep in front of the TV by 8:30, then yes, Ned, I know
what you mean.  
  
"When are you going to teach me that charm magic, Dad? Yanno, pass it along
down the line so I can be lucky enough to marry someone like Mom?"  
  
"Luck has nothing to do with it, son. Afraid you either have it or you don't!"
He laughed. We all laughed.  
  
If there was any charm in the family, then Doug had recently proved he had it.
Just ask Gail.  
  
"Let's hope you win!" It would be great if it was like Ned said. A night of
romance—but who was I kidding. I'd end up sitting there in bed reading as
usual, bored stiff.  
  
"Mom, did you watch that video?"  
  
I nearly spit out my food. "Haven't had the chance." I gave Doug my evilest
eye.  
  
"Anything I'd like?" Ned asked.  
  
"Naw," Doug said. "Mom told me you weren't interested in stuff like that
anymore."  
  
"Far be it from me to disagree with your mother. She knows me best."  
  
Doug helped clear the dishes and I whispered, "You think you're funny, don't
you?"  
  
"Lighten up, Mom. You're too serious. I was just having fun with Dad."  
  
"Just remember to respect him. Being a father is a big responsibility." Little
did my son know that he too was a father. A father-to-be.  
  
******************************  
  
Doug went out with his friends, and as I had predicted, Ned was asleep in his
recliner.  
  
I propped up my pillow on the bed, plugged my earbuds into my laptop, and then
fitted the thumb drive into the USB port. I double clicked the icon and saw a
video file. Double clicked that.  
  
The player came up and showed Gail's living room. A pretty good color image,
considering it was just a security camera.  
  
Then voices started:  
  
Gail said, "Okay, Doug, we have to stop. This isn't right. What would your
mother think?"  
  
"Of you or me?" then he laughed.  
  
They came into view—both NAKED. They must have just come inside from the pool
Gail's hair was still obviously wet. That was the only hair that was wet—she
had a completely shaved pussy. I had a full bush—black.  
  
The other obvious thing was that my son had a raging hardon.  
  
"Oh my god!" I said out loud. "It's huge.  
  
They faced each other and Doug tried to kiss Gail. She turned her head and
said, "This had gone far enough, in fact too far."  
  
From what Gail had said, Doug had found Gail's weakness. He took her hand and
placed it on his hard cock. He didn't even have to force her at this point.
She closed her fingers around it and said:  
  
"It's so hard. I can't believe how big it is."  
  
Doug tried to kiss her again, and this time she let him. They kissed some
more, and all the while Gail's hand was massaging up and down Doug's shaft in
slow and gentle movements.  
  
"We have to stop," Gail said. Doug kissed her and then tried to stick his
tongue in her mouth. She resisted for a moment and then opened her mouth. It
wasn't long before her tongue seemed to be exploring also.  
  
I was barely breathing, hypnotized by my best friend, my lifelong friend,
making out naked with my son.  
  
It was Doug who broke the kiss and lowered his head. "NO! I SAID NO!" Gail
shouted just before Doug sucked in her left nipple.  
  
A loud "OOHHH!" escaped her lips. Her free hand went to the back of my son's
head, caressing it and pressing it harder against her naked tit.  
  
"Doug's sucking Gail's tits!" I again was giving an audible play-by-play in my
bedroom.  
  
Doug went from one breast to the other. There were no more protests during
this phase.  
  
Gail's hand never left Doug's cock. "So big ... so big!" she crooned a few
times.  
  
"Bigger than Uncle Vance?"  
  
There was that male this, that dominance thing.  
  
"Are you kidding. This is twice your uncle."  
  
"So how will it feel inside you?"  
  
THAT shook her out of her stupor. She let go of Doug's penis and said, "That
is NOT going to happen. I'm a married woman. I've always been faithful to your
uncle and that's not going to change!"  
  
A phone rang. Gail said, "That has to be your uncle checking in. SSSHH!"  
  
She came near the camera and picked something up. It must have been on the
coffee table she has there. That's where the camera must be resting also.  
  
"Hi Vance," she said with her cheery voice. "Yes, got all the chores done just
like you wanted."  
  
"HI UNCLE VANCE!" Doug shouted.  
  
"Yeah. That's Doug. He helped out and did all the yard work. Your uncle says
'thank you.'"  
  
I wondered how much he would thank my son if he saw what was going on.  
  
Doug had worked himself around behind Gail and pressed his boner against her
butt cheeks so it rode up between them. He encircled her waist with one arm.  
  
She tried to shake him off, but couldn't while trying to maintain a
conversation with her husband.  
  
Doug's other hand weighed and rubbed each breast, then drifted down her
stomach. Gail's free hand tried to stop him, but he eventually reached her
crotch. And Gail's hand fell away.  
  
Doug's middle finger worked front to back a few times, then neatly
disappeared.  
  
My son was fingering Gail. He had his finger inside her vagina.  
  
Gail's head went back and her mouth opened but no words came out. Until she
said, "Please ... please."  
  
Doug let her go and she turned her back to the camera and finished talking
with Vance. Doug reached down to the camera and turned it toward the couch.
The coffee table was just a few feet from the couch.  
  
That's when the video changed shots to another camera that must have been in
the bookcase behind the couch. It showed Doug turn the other camera, and gave
a shot across the room of Gail.  
  
Doug sat on the couch. You could see him from the shoulders up.  
  
Gail finished her call and lay the phone down on the coffee table. "That
wasn't fair."  
  
"Come sit with me," Doug said.  
  
"No. We're done. That was my husband for God's sake. I'm on the phone with him
and you're messing around like that!"  
  
"Come sit with me, just for a minute."  
  
"No."  
  
The camera switched back to the one on the coffee table and showed Doug
sitting there still with a massive hardon.  
  
"You're not going to leave me like this, are you. Don't you want to see me
cum?" Doug asked.  
  
"I can't do that."  
  
"You've already had your hand on me," Doug reasoned. "Just a few more strokes  
  
"Just a few more? Are you sure?"  
  
"Just a few more. Looking at you and feeling you has got me almost cumming.
Please finish what you started."  
  
There was rustling and Gail came into view. She started to sit next to Doug,
but he said, "Let me suck your tits one more time and pulled her in front of
him. she leaned over and he sucked one then the other, then pulled her off
balance so she fell forward and had to catch herself by placing a knee on
either side of Doug's hips.  
  
Gail now was straddling Doug. He continued to suck her tits. She struggled to
get up for a second then looked to the ceiling and enjoyed the moment.  
  
Doug reached around and began massaging her buttocks, pulling and kneading
them.  
  
"We have to stop. This is dangerous," she said.  
  
Doug pulled her lower and she slid until she was sitting on his stomach as he
slouched. His penis now was nestled between her butt cheeks. The movements of
his hips drew it down and then back up. Then again.  
  
"Please ... no ... don't." But she wasn't trying to get away.  
  
The angle must have been dragging her pussy across the base of his cock, pubic
bone, and public hair. Her hips started small movements of their own. These
increased in range and speed.  
  
Doug started kissing her again and it became more and more vigorous.  
  
Gail's hips glided long movement now, slow and deliberate. She pulsed back and
forth, leaving Doug's cock shiny.  
  
My best friend was bathing my son with her pussy juices.  
  
Doug pulled her buttocks wide and I could see the dark dot of her anus, and
below that , the pink hole of her vagina.  
  
Everything was only foreplay until one pull of her hips coincided with just
the right angle of Doug's cock.  
  
That's when the very tip of it lodged right at the entrance of Gail's vagina.
Both of them stopped moving.  
  
"NOOO! We have to stop! Doug, we can't go any farther. Please."  
  
"It's up to you, Aunt Gail. But ... don't you want to know what I would feel
like inside you?"  
  
"Oh my God! Oh my God! Please forgive me!" Gail sobbed.  
  
And she sat herself down on two inches of my son's penis. "Aaaaahhh!" hissed
out of her. She raised herself up and took in about half.  
  
It was really happening. She was going to fuck my son. My son was going to
fuck her.  
  
"Oh, Aunt Gail, you're so tight!"  
  
One more time up and then excruciatingly slowly ... down, engulfing the whole
length of my boy.  
  
"Doug! Oh Doug. So full ... so full!  
  
She rested there, lolling her head back and forth while rocking her bottom in
a gyration, as if to accommodate what had just been fed into her.  
  
"Been so long, been so long," she growled. "You don't know how good this
feels."  
  
I don't know if she was talking to herself, to Doug, or to some unknown Gods.  
  
She raised herself all the way off Doug's gigantic cock and then sat back
down. It was an amazing thing to see: the way her feminine hole stretched
fantastically to hug tightly against his manhood. I can only imagine the
pleasure that pressure was giving my son.  
  
Doug had asked: "Don't you want to know what I would feel like inside you?" At
that very moment when my best friend's pussy swallowed up my son's penis—I
acutely felt that want.  
  
Doug sucked her tits, those D-cups that dangled and shook and tempted him as
she picked herself up and drove herself down again and again. Doug's fingers
dug cruelly into her buttocks as he pulled her onto himself while tilting his
hips upward to meet her every movement. Deeper and deeper into his aunt's
body.  
  
Every once in a while, Gail would stop, fully engulfed with cock, and grind
her pussy against Doug. I can only imagine that she found some angle that
punished her clitoris against his pubic bone, giving her and extra jolt of
ecstasy.  
  
That's when she would scream: "YES! OH YES!"  
  
She did this three separate times.  
  
Doug's face was a mixture of grimace and wonder. At one point, as if he
couldn't believe it, he said: "I'm fucking you! Aunt Gail, I'm fucking you!"  
  
All Gail's previous inhibitions about "We can't do this" and "We've gone too
far" and "No, I'm a married woman" must have evaporated with the heat of my
son's dick, because she screamed in reply:  
  
"FUCK ME! DOUG! DOUG! PLEASE FUCK ME ... HARDER!"  
  
And Doug complied. He forced himself to greater speed and greater depths into
her fertile womb (we know she was fertile, don't we?) , spurred by her
shrieking pleas.  
  
Now the camera changed to the one on the bookcase behind the couch. Gail's
face had been away from the camera on the coffee table, but was clear with
this view. And I soon knew why Doug had chosen this shot.  
  
Gail blonde hair whipped as she shook her head and chanted: "OH GOD! OH GOD!
OH GOD!"  
  
Then she said: "Almost! Almost! YEESS! Almost!"  
  
That's when she kissed Doug hard on the mouth, then tore herself away from his
face to shout to the ceiling: "I'M CUMMING! OH MY GOD! I'M CUMMING LIKE THAT!
THERE! I'M CUMMING!"  
  
Her face had shown a mixture of rapture and pain. I had never seen my friend's
face take on the extent of those contortions before.  
  
My son had sexually satisfied a woman.  
  
The camera changed back to showing Doug's face. That same woman was about to
sexually satisfy my son—with one surprise that I would never have expected.  
  
Gail's orgasm triggered Doug's own. Right after her screams echoed through the
house, Doug emitted six or seven AAAHHH's and I knew each one of them had to
be accompanied by a gooey, hot, high-pressured squirt of potent sperm and
semen in the direction of her womb.  
  
What was surprising was that in the middle of my son cumming into my friend,
he squeezed his eyes shut and yelled: "MOM!"  
  
My mouth hung open.  
  
Gail collapsed onto Doug and they remained motionless for a long time. They
were covered in sweat.  
  
I not only had witnessed sex between my son and my best friend; I had just
witnessed her impregnation, the creation of a baby.  
  
******************************  
  
"My ass doesn't look that fat, does it?"  
  
Gail had finally calmed down enough to watch the video—for the third time!  
  
She had freaked out when I first told her about it, and rushed over. She
wanted to destroy it, then she said she would never watch it, then said
someday she might watch it, then she said she had to better prepare herself to
watch it—then she said: "Play it."  
  
I had watched it over and over again the night before. Each time I learned
something new from it: sometimes about Gail, sometimes about my son—and
sometimes about myself.  
  
"Are you kidding? Look at the body on you!"  
  
"I'd still rather have your body. I always thought you were sexier," she said.  
  
Our bodies were sexy in different ways. Gail was soft and curvy and sensuous.
I was longer and leaner and more muscular—a swimmer's body. She was light with
her short blonde hair, and I was darker with super straight long black hair I
could hold back in a ponytail.  
  
"I told you Doug made me cum."  
  
I guess the embarrassment she had first experienced while watching it had worn
off after the next five times.  
  
"I could tell. How many times have you begged to be fucked?"  
  
She made a show of thinking it over, then said, "Counting this time—once!"  
  
We both laughed. Whether it was a nervous release or genuine, I don't know or
care. We were still friends. That hadn't changed even through this.  
  
"I told you your son had a big cock."  
  
"He showed it to me."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I thought he was bragging, like all guys do, and he went and just pulled his
pants down like there was nothing to it. And, suddenly without any warning,
there was my son's penis. I must have looked stupid staring at it before I
recovered and told him to pull his pants up."  
  
"It wasn't ...?"  
  
"Erect? No. That would have been REALLY weird, being able to have an erection
in front of your mother."  
  
"Speaking of weird, I thought it would have been weirder, you know, between us
because ..."  
  
"Because you had sex with my son? Because you're like a second mother to him?
Because he made you cum like a rocket?"  
  
"Yeah, because of things along those lines." We both laughed.  
  
"Let me ask you this: how would you feel if I had sex with your son, Matt?"  
  
"With my little boy, Matt? And, I do say 'little' in the most literal way.
He's half your size, still hasn't been out on a date, the most socially
awkward kid I've ever seen—he's a watered-down version of Vance! That should
tell you something. I worry about him growing up. He's a nerd and always has
been and always will be. If you had sex with him, I'd feel sorry—for you!
But—wait a minute—maybe that would snap him out of his nerdy cocoon. So go
ahead, but don't run to me when he can't stop crying and calling for his
mommy!"  
  
"That reminds me ... what did you think when Doug came—"  
  
"I swear I could feel every hot jet of cum filling me up. I ruined three pairs
of panties with what flowed out of me later," she said while shaking her
head."  
  
"So, too much information, and back to where I was before you interrupted—what
did you think when Doug came and said "Mom?"  
  
"I didn't hear anything then. I was zoned out in the heat of the most
fantastic orgasm a woman can have. I have never experienced anything like it.
I didn't even imagine there COULD be anything like it. I didn't think a human
body could generate or STAND that kind of pleasure—"  
  
"Back to my question. Now that you've heard it on the video, what do you
think?"  
  
"Well, it would have been nice to have him acknowledge me as being there
participating in HIS pleasure. A little "Aunt Gail!" while he came would have
been more appropriate. But, I think it's a normal thing for younger people to
blurt out "Mom!" in times of hurt or stress. So I wouldn't get all Freudian
about it."  
  
"Yeah ... I guess you're right," I said.  
  
"So, you're not mad at me? You can see how—and I'm not trying to say I wasn't
wrong—but you can see how I was seduced, little by little, drip, drip drip,
seduced and I wasn't strong enough finally to say 'no.' I have to give your
son credit. I mean, he pursued me there with all his charm and sexual
attractiveness, but, in the end, he left it my final choice. I can see now
when he said 'It's up to you, Aunt Gail' I could have pull up, stopped, stood
up, and walked away."  
  
"And what made you choose not to?"  
  
"Fair question. Earlier, when he asked me 'Don't you want to know what I would
feel like inside you?' I couldn't get that out of my mind. I had to know. More
than that, my body had to know. I knew that question would haunt me the rest
of my life, and when it came to the moment of truth, I knew I would regret not
taking that beautiful boycock deep inside me. Does that make sense?"  
  
It made more sense than Gail could realize. That's the question that stood out
to me too since I had first watched the video. But, in my case, I would never
know the answer, and have to make peace with never knowing.  

"I understand." That's all I could say.  
  
"So you're not angry with me?"  
  
When I didn't speak, Gail asked: "Something else?" She knew me too well.  
  
"Well, it's not normal for a mother to watch her son having sex. That should
be something a mother knows is going on, but never has to think about it in
more than an overall antiseptic, practical, almost-clinical way. And yet,
there I was seeing it all unfold in front of my eyes. How would you feel if
you watched Matt having sex?"  
  
"Bewildered! I told you—I don't think he knows yet what's between his own
legs, let alone a girl's!"  
  
"So, you know how much I love Doug, and always wanted to give him everything I
could. So ... eh, why don't we forget it," I finally said.  
  
"No, Cyndy. C'mon, say what you're thinking. You know you can tell me
anything, and I can tell you anything."  
  
"Okay, here it is: I'm not angry, I'm jealous."  
  
"Jealous? Of me? For having sex with your son?"  
  
"Yeah. For THAT! You gave him something I couldn't. You gave him such
pleasure. Sharing your bodies together. And, he gave YOU something I can never
have—that tremendous, thundering orgasm. It's just the totality of the
experience—without getting Freudian about it—that made me feel left out of my
son's life."  
  
She came over and hugged me the way we'd been hugging for over thirty years. I
felt better, especially when she said, "I understand completely."  
  
Then she had to add, "And you're wondering what that glorious slab of manhood
feels like when it's poking at your liver from the inside, right?"  
  
We both couldn't stop laughing. I finally said, "Well, yeah, may be a little!"  
  
Maybe it was more than just a little.  
  
********************************  
  
Gail had a full day of real estate appointments. We decided she would come
back when Doug got home from school and we would all sit down together and
talk.  
  
"So why is Aunt Gail coming over?"  
  
"Just that she has something to say to you."  
  
"This isn't going to be some long lecture is it?" he whined.  
  
"No, nothing like that, Doug."  
  
"You watched the video?"  
  
"Yes. I watched it last night. Then I show it to Aunt Gail this morning."  
  
"Oh, I get it, the double kaboom. You both tell me how evil I am about having
the video and try to make me feel bad or guilty or ... whatever."  
  
"Nothing like that, Doug. Believe me."  
  
"What part of the video did you like the best?" he asked, changing tactics.  
  
"There's no part I liked. That was my son and my best friend doing something
that never should have been done. Can't you see that?"  
  
"You can't blame just me. You saw Aunt Gail. You saw that she wanted to and
decided to say yes to the whole thing."  
  
"Doug, I understand what happened. I—"  
  
"Did you see Aunt Gail cum? I think that was the best part of it all. That I
got her to cum. And she can't deny it either because it's right there with her
saying it happened."  
  
"Doug, she's taken responsibility for what happened. We talked it all over
this morning."  
  
"And you're not mad at her or anything?"  
  
"No, now enough questions until she gets here." I knew there would be a whole
different coloring of the subject once Gail told him she was pregnant.  
  
"One more question then."  
  
Okay," I relented, "one more."  
  
"Did you ever cum like Aunt Gail did?"  
  
"DOUGLAS!" I only used his full name when really angry or shocked. I was not
angry. "I will NOT answer that! You have no right to ask such a question of
your mother!"  
  
I was hoping my head wasn't shaking "no" while I spoke, subconsciously giving
away my truthful reply. I had never in my life had an orgasm anywhere near the
volcanic proportion of Gail's. Sometimes I wondered what a real orgasm felt
like because of my lifelong puny sexual responses.  
  
"That's a big 'NO' in my book," he said, reading the truth into it.  
  
To my relief, that's when Gail knocked and burst into the room. I wondered
what the tension would be like between her and Doug.  
  
To my surprise, Gail greeted me then went up and hugged Doug like she usually
did.  
  
"Any coffee?" she asked. Again, her as normal. I poured us both a cup.  
  
"Anything, Doug?"  
  
"Nothing. Can we hurry up here, because I'm meeting the guys in a little
while?"  
  
"Doug, can you at least be polite, your Aunt—"  
  
Gail held up her hand and said, "If he has someplace to go, he has someplace
to go. I'll make this quick then."  
  
She stood in front of my son and said, "Doug, I'm pregnant. And before you
even ask, yes, I'm sure it's your baby. And, I just got back from the doctor's
office for my pre-visit. I've decided to have an abortion, and it's scheduled
for tomorrow."  
  
Doug stood there with his mouth open. I stood there with my mouth open. Gail
hadn't mentioned her decision. She had been so much calmer this morning. Such
a change from the distraught, blubbering mess of a few nights before. Once she
came to terms with what she wanted to do, a burden must have lifted from her.  
  
"Now that I've said my part," Gail finished, "you can go have fun with 'the
guys.'"  
  
She sat down and sipped her coffee.  
  
"Wait! WAIT! Aunt Gail! When were you going to tell me all this? Don't I get a
say in—"  
  
"You had your say a few weeks ago. Now, I have to make a decision about MY
body."  
  
"Mom!" Doug looked to me for help. "Did you know?"  
  
"Gail, are you sure? Can we talk this over?" This was shocking to me. I was
completely against abortion because of my upbringing. Gail's parents were
almost hippies, or at least late hippie-ish. Very liberal in all their
thought.  
  
"Decision's made. Done. Don't try to argue, persuade, cajole, plant a guilt
trip, or ... whatever else you think might change the mind of a 42 year-old
professional woman who's spent decades building a career and putting twins
through college to keep the baby of the 18-year-old high school son of her
best friend. Ain't gonna happen. Period. Which is what I missed and signaled I
was pregnant."  
  
Another sip of coffee.  
  
"You mean right now, right now in your stomach is your baby, our baby, and—"  
  
'And tomorrow, no baby. Like it never happened. The earlier the easier, and
it's only been a few weeks."  
  
"Does Uncle Vance know? How can you be sure it's not Uncle Vance's?"  
  
"Uncle Vance does NOT know, and will NEVER know. Sex is one thing, and that's
what happened between us. Now are the consequences, and I'm trying here not to
shatter all our lives. Do you understand that?"  
  
"But—" Doug tried to edge in.  
  
"Abortion tomorrow. That's it. And I'm sure it's not your Uncle's baby because
he had a vasectomy a long time ago. Long before he became impotent. If there's
any clarification you need about the definition of those two words, just say
it."  
  
"Gail, you know how I feel about ... you know." I couldn't even bear to say
the word. Suddenly in my mind, it wasn't only Gail's baby, but Doug's—and my
grandchild. Losing it sharpened the focus for me.  
  
Doug burst into tears. I couldn't remember the last time I saw him cry. "Aunt
Gail ... Auntie ... I'm so sorry. So sorry."  
  
Gail got up and stood before him, gave him a big hug and hung on with her head
on his broad chest.  
  
"It'll be all right. It's gonna be all right, Doug. I promise. Something good
will come of this. It'll be all right."  
  
Doug lowered his wet eyes to her shoulder and sobbed. She let him for as long
as he wanted.  
  
"Finally he straightened and said, "I want to be there at least. I'll go with
you tomorrow."  
  
"People who go along on things like this are either family, friends of a
certain age, or the father. You fall into one of those categories—the one I
don't want anyone ever to know outside of this very room right now."  
  
"I'll take you," I said.  
  
"You told me you'd never step inside a place like that."  
  
"I guess I lied. When it comes to loving you, I'd do a lot worse than lying."  
  
"Aunt Gail, then at least let me pay for it. I've got my own bank account,
and—"  
  
"You can pay, but not in money. Your Uncle and I have to go see the twins next
week, and while we're gone, YOU, my dear boy can do all the yard work that's
been neglected since the last time you did it. Is that a deal? It would really
help us out."  
  
"You bet, Aunt Gail. I mean, sure. Whatever it takes."  
  
Gail winked at me. She had given my son a little worth, a little redemption
out of her kind, kind heart.  
  
*****************************  
  
"How is Aunt Gail?" Doug asked.  
  
He had been waiting at the kitchen door, something he never does. That showed
me just the level of concern he had. I could see it in his manner and in his
eyes.  
  
"Everything went as good as it could go. Except for a few cramps and feeling a
little tired, your aunt seemed fine. She just needs to take it easy today and
tomorrow."  
  
"I wish there was something I could do. Something I could say."  
  
"She knows you love her. That's what she needs right now. AND, she needs you
to keep her secret, so no get well cards or acting strange in front of Uncle
Vance or the twins when you see them."  
  
"Yeah, I get that part. I feel real different about Aunt Gail now that we
shared something else. Something so important."  
  
"I'm glad you do," I said, and hugged him close. He was a little taller than
me, so when I pushed him to arm's length, I looked up at him a little. "It
shows you're maturing."  
  
"It's just that when I think of that there was something alive yesterday,
something that was Aunt Gail's and mine, and now it's ..."  
  
I knew he was taking this hard, so when he hesitated, I said, "Lost."  
  
"Yeah. Like forever."  
  
"Doug, let me share something with you. Something important. Now, you know I'm
not the kind of person to believe in all sorts of weird psychic stuff or
religious fanatics or anything." I looked at him for some acknowledgement of
the fact.  
  
"Mom, you're always the first one to look for the—"  
  
"The rational, logical explanation behind something. That's what I always
believe. That's why I wasn't going to say anything, and maybe shrug it off as
my imagination. But, when you and I were just talking, talking about something
lost, I knew I had to share this with you."  
  
I sat down and motioned to the chair next to mine. Doug sat near and I took
his hand.  
  
"Today, we got there, and I was way more nervous about this than your Aunt
Gail seemed to be. Maybe it was all my beliefs and not ever wanting to go to a
place like that, but ... I was there to support your aunt, and she ended up
being the strong one, the tough one, the good soldier."  
  
Doug squeezed my hand. It felt good to have him there with me and to be able
to talk to him about this. Maybe even more than that—I felt like he HAD to
hear this, that it wouldn't be right if he didn't hear what I had to say.  
  
"Anyway, I was a mess and on the verge of crying the whole time, especially
when I finally had to leave Aunt Gail as they were ready to do the procedure.
I'm sitting in the waiting room and thinking of that little life that's about
to be gone. A little life that was tied to your aunt, tied to you, and tied to
me. Your aunt was choosing to let go of it, but, even though we had to respect
her decision, we—you Doug, and me—weren't really ready to let go. We weren't
ready to give up on it—that little life."  
  
"I know, Mom. I was feeling real bad all day. I felt like it was the end of
something, but not, all at the same time."  
  
"Well maybe this will make you feel better. I'm sitting there in the waiting
room, almost on the verge of panic with all the negative thoughts I was having
and the sterile, businesslike atmosphere there, when all of a sudden, a great
big feeling of peace came over me."  
  
"Peace?"  
  
"That's the only way I can explain it. It was as if someone was talking to me,
not in words, but in a language deeper than that, something that touched my
heart ... maybe my soul. Even though you know I have all sorts of doubts about
things like that."  
  
"So it was only a feeling?"  
  
"The feeling, I think was just the result. It took me a while, but I think
there was a message under it all. I had gone in there thinking there was a
life that was being lost. A soul that would never walk this earth. But the
message I got was that very soul would find another home, find another way to
come to life. So don't worry. It'll find a way, the best way. The peace I had
received was my being sure it was as true as science. You know I don't hold
much faith in 'faith'—especially blind faith. But this was as close to that as
I've ever felt."  
  
"So you think—"  
  
Tears, happy tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes. "I think that little
life was telling me it was going to be okay and was going to find itself in
the perfect spot to be born."  
  
*******************************  
  
I called Gail that night after giving her the whole afternoon and early
evening to rest. She had said she was being better than she expected. Not even
any cramps and only a little spotty bleeding. She thanked me for going with
her and was touched by Doug's concerns for her and his new sense of
responsibility.  
  
I was still immersed in my "all is well" mental state. I had expected it to
fade after I took a much-needed nap. I hadn't realized how exhausted I had
become because of the experience.  
  
Doug, on the other hand, was vitalized. He had a certain nervous energy that
takes him over when he's about to start something new ... or crazy.  
  
Dinner proved to have another kind of excitement. Ned had an announcement:  
  
"I won the raffle! Of all things! I won! You and me, baby! We'll have a real
wild time at a swanky hotel. So get ready! Wild time!"  
  
I didn't know whether he was psyching himself up, or delusional. I was happy
for him, I guess for us. I could use the night out. With a little kick
underneath the table, I had to remind Doug to congratulate his dad.  
  
"That's great, Dad. I promise not to wreck the house while you're gone."  
  
"Right. No wild parties. That'll be our role! Wild!"  
  
At the end of dinner, Doug asked, "Mom, can you drop by my room later so we
can talk?"  
  
I knew we still had a lot of ground to cover and to process before full
emotional recovery was possible. But Doug's tone wasn't subdued or somber or
thoughtful like I would have expected. It was upbeat and positive.  
  
**************************  
  
I waited for Ned's nightly coma before I made my way to Doug's room. I knocked
and waited for him to say "Come in" as usual. But, instead, the door flew open
and he grabbed my hand, pulling me in. Then he looked up and down the hall,
making sure Ned wasn't around, I guess, and gently, noiselessly shut his door.  
  
"Mom, sit down. I've got something important to tell you. This is great!"  
  
I sat on the edge of his bed. Usually, he sat in his desk chair facing me when
we talked, but tonight, he paced in front of me. Sometimes he talked directly
to me, sometimes he talked to the air and waved his hands enthusiastically.
Although his voice was totally excited the whole time, he kept his tone
hushed, like he didn't want it to reach any farther than this side of his
door.  
  
"What is it, Doug? What can have happened since this afternoon?"  
  
"I thought about what you said is what happened. That, and putting it together
with what I had been feeling. Don't you get it?"  
  
"I obviously don't, but I'm happy to see you bounce back from the mood you
were in earlier."  
  
"How could I NOT, because this afternoon fixed everything. Well, almost fixed
everything. It set up fixing everything. Don't you see?" He faced me and had
put his hands on my shoulders for emphasis when he said the last.  
  
I could only shake my head in bewilderment.  
  
"You said today that you knew that we—you and me—weren't ready to give up on
that little life. Before you said it, I thought I was the only one to feel
that. You don't know how happy I was to know you felt the same way. Get it?"  
  
I only could encourage him to go on with my silence and attention, because I
had no idea where he was going with this.  
  
"You said we weren't ready to let go," Doug looked into my eyes and slowly
said, "so let's not let go!"  
  
"Doug, I think I know a little bit what you're saying, but we have to move on
and know out there—"  
  
"No, Mom, not out there. You said that little soul ... that you felt that
little soul would find another home, find a way to walk the earth again. You
said it was tied to you and tied to me."  
  
"What are you saying, Doug?" This was scaring me a little, especially the
growing zeal and animation in my son's manner—and the wild look in his eyes.  
  
"You said that very soul would find another home, find another way to come to
life. The perfect home."  
  
I shook my head. All his words were what I believed because they had somehow
been made true that afternoon by my extraordinary experience, but Doug was
recounting them, reinterpreting them in a totally different way.  
  
"I think that what happened this afternoon was the right thing to happen. It
HAD to happen. Don't you see? Aunt Gail wasn't the right home, the perfect
home. Don't you see, Mom? Don't you feel that now?"  
  
"Doug ..." I didn't know where he was going with this and didn't know what to
say.  
  
"Mom, there's a way, the perfect way for that baby to find its perfect home.
It's so clear. It's so easy to correct the mistake. The only mistake was Aunt
Gail. She didn't want a baby."  
  
"Doug, your aunt was in no position to have another child. She and Uncle Vance
were perfectly happy with the twins."  
  
"I know. All those years she didn't want another baby. But Mom, YOU DID! Don't
you see?"  
  
"Doug, your father and I just never—"  
  
"Mom, don't you get it? YOU'RE the perfect place, the perfect home."  
  
"Doug, talk some sense, please!"  
  
"Okay, so here it is plain and simple: we correct the mistake!" He held his
hands palms up in front of him with a big smile on his face like he had
obviously just solved the problem.  
  
"Doug?"  
  
"Mom, I want that baby, my baby, to have the perfect home."  
  
"Doug—what are you saying? You don't mean—"  
  
"Mom, I want to make love to you! I want to get you pregnant!"  
  
************************  
  
Sleep? What's that? I tossed and turned all night while Ned barely registered
with his breathing. I envied him with blissful—I won't say ignorance like the
old saying, because Ned was a good, if clueless husband—unknowing of the
problems swirling around our family.  
  
His son had sex with our oldest friend, my best friend, got her pregnant, and
that baby, his grandchild had been aborted, and then his son proposes that he
make the situation right by again having sex—but this time with his own
mother!  
  
And Ned slept on. I wanted to shake him awake and have him take this problem
away from me. But then I'd not only have this problem—I'd have Ned awake,
problem number two with his overreactions.  
  
This should have been so easy to solve. A firm and final "NO!" and that's the
end of it. So uncomplicated.  
  
But—it WASN'T uncomplicated. My experience at the clinic, whether it was my
imagination or something real outside the comprehension of my human mind made
a lot of what Doug had said make sense. Especially since he threw my actual
words back at me. But, when he did it, he took all the generalities out of it
and made it laser-specific.  
  
Specifically: that new life finding a home by my son impregnating me.  
  
That proposal would have seemed absolutely preposterous a few days before.
But, and here's another complication: I had watched him already impregnate
another woman: Gail. So it took the act from improbable imagination to
concrete fact: Doug could make a baby; I saw the proof.  
  
AND—seeing that proof brought up another complication—that question he asked:
"Don't you want to know what I would feel like inside you?"  
  
That had tickled at the corners of my perverse imagination before. But, after
Doug's proposal, I thought about THAT a lot. That and seeing Gail cum. I
thought about the possibility ... Totally out of line and perverse.  
  
Then, I would feel crappy and guilty and start all over again from the
beginning and cycle through my fears and worries.  

A sleepless night.  
  
*******************************  
  
"Did you think about what I said?" Doug asked during breakfast.  
  
"About what?" I countered.  
  
It was like he didn't even hear my deflection: "When's the best time? Yanno
... when do you ovulate?"  
  
"Ssshhh! DOUG! Your father will hear!"  
  
"Hear what?" Ned said as he walked into the kitchen.  
  
"I was telling Mom I knew what I wanted for a graduation present, but it was a
little over the budget you set for me."  
  
"Oh. Well let me hear the bad news then."  
  
"I want the Canon Vixia HF G40 video camera. You said a thousand bucks and
it's about 1200."  
  
"You're going to be studying filmmaking, right?"  
  
"Yeah, you know that," Doug said.  
  
"And this will help you, right?"  
  
"Yeah, so much you wouldn't believe it, Dad."  
  
"So get it. Order it. Today. Why wait! You deserve it. After all, you're my
only son!"  
  
"So far, Dad!" Doug looked at me and I turned my face down to my toast and
coffee.  
  
Ned laughed. "So far is right! Which reminds me, Cyndy, why don't you get that
thing we talked about for our overnight visit coming up."  
  
"That thing" was a sheer black lace nightie. He had seen it online and said it
turned him on. That must be one hell of an ignition switch to turn HIM on. One
that he had kept hidden from me for years.  
  
******************************  
  
"You really shouldn't be walking around," I said.  
  
"Rest is for the wicked," Gail said.  
  
"I think that's 'no rest for the wicked,'" I corrected.  
  
"I was closer than usual."  
  
We laughed. It was good to see her laugh. It felt good for me to laugh.  
  
We were walking in the mall. I had called to check in on Gail and told her of
Ned's request and that I was going to visit the local lingerie shop and pick
it up.  
  
"No way you're going without me," she said.  
  
And so, here we were.  
  
"Actually, I'm feeling better than I have for days, since I learned I was ...
pregnant. That really threw me. I mean, I felt this weird feeling even before
I knew, and it wasn't guilt about ... you know."  
  
I knew she meant about having sex with Doug.  
  
"So you didn't feel guilty?"  
  
This was the first time we had this part of the conversation. It had all been
about the pregnancy before. Even after we watched the video together. She had
deflected any other aspects. Maybe now she had a different perspective, now
that she was "free" of its outcome.  
  
"Right afterwards, and I mean RIGHT afterwards, yeah. But, then my body kicked
in and I remember feeling so feminine and alive and—satisfied! Like something
had been tied up in me for years and even though I knew it was a good and
powerful part of me, I had doubted it and even thought it was dead forever.
But, after that time with Doug, I felt like the total woman I knew I had been
in the past. I just had forgotten, or maybe suppressed it."  
  
"So the weird feeling ...?"  
  
"Yeah, even before I knew I was pregnant, it was like I knew I shouldn't be
pregnant, and that this was something that never should happen. A vague thing,
nothing specific, but like destiny took a wrong turn. I know that sounds
stupid."  
  
"Not as stupid as you think," I said. That "destiny" part threw me, and I felt
that was my cue to tell her what had happened to me while I had been waiting
for her.  
  
We passed the lingerie store three times while we kept walking. While I told
her about my feeling and that her baby—Doug's and her baby—was waiting and
looking for the perfect place to be born.  
  
"Wow!" That's all she could say. At first. Then she teared up and said: "Right
before they did it, that's exactly the prayer I prayed. I said 'God, I'm not
the right mother for this baby. You know that, but please find it someone who
can love it all its life.'"  
  
That's when we both teared up. "Let's sit a minute," she said, and picked an
empty bench.  
  
"You feeling okay?" I asked, concerned for her condition.  
  
"Physically, fine. That just sounded so right, it sent chills through me."  
  
I debated whether to add the second part, the part with Doug's plan in it. I
knew it was shocking, and for me embarrassing to even express it, but we had
never kept anything from each other for our whole lives:  
  
"There's some thing else," I started. Then, while people, perfectly normal
people doing perfectly normal mall things strolled by—I told her all about
Doug wanting to get me pregnant.  
  
"Oh ... my ... God!" she said. That's all she said about it. Except: "I need a
little time to process that one."  
  
I was relieved in a way. For two reasons: first, sharing it burst some wall,
some pressure that had built in me from the moment I heard Doug propose it.
That secret had been too hard to bear alone. And second, I'm glad Gail didn't
weigh in—I couldn't stand a judgment at this point.  
  
*****************************  
  
We were both crowded in the dressing room. Why did those fluorescent lights
make everything look so harsh. The only reason women buy something after
looking in the mirror there is the everlasting hope that it had to look better
in the "real world" outside the evil glow of the dressing room.  
  
"I don't know," I said and twirled around, swiveling my face towards the
mirror to catch every angle.  
  
I was wearing a sheer black lace nightie. It came down to the tops of my
thighs and was hemmed by a red "string" of an intricate weave. The see-through
lace was punctuated by small graceful leaves here and there—also sheer, but
darker than the rest.  
  
Gail said: "Sure you don't know—wearing these!" And she pulled my white
panties all the way to the floor.  
  
"GAIL!" I croaked.  
  
"And THIS!" She had reached up inside the nightie and unhooked my white bra.
"Now shuck that off."  
  
I did, and was now totally naked beneath that heavenly creation.  
  
"That was like wearing knee socks with flip-flops! All I have to say is 'va-
va,' and may I add an extra 'va' before the 'VOOM!'"  
  
I had to admit, it did look hot. It draped over my curves, hung off my breasts
and hips without trying to define them. You could clearly see my dark nipples
and the triangle of my thick pubic hair.  
  
"Do you think it sends the right message?" I asked.  
  
"If the message is 'Time-ta-Fuck!'—then 'yes' ... this is appropriate."  
  
"Then—I'll take it!"  
  
We had a leisurely lunch, and talked about everything BUT what had been going
on lately. I drove Gail home and she promised to go inside and rest. Before
she got out of the car she said:  
  
"Do it."  
  
"Do what," I asked.  
  
"With Doug—do it."  
  
********************************  
  
Doug's pressure on me was constant. He was relentless in his pursuit of
planting his seed inside his mother.  
  
He was constantly making different points about why it was the right thing to
do and that the planets were aligning, and every other symbol or metaphor he
could think of to make his case.  
  
He kept pestering me about the day I ovulated. Finally I told him the truth,
hoping to counteract with my own symbol: I ovulated the night of the raffle
prize. That night I would be at a hotel with Ned. I hoped that would serve as
a counterargument to all his persuasion.  
  
I kept telling him it would be wrong for so many reasons, even though a lot of
what he said started to make sense. Even to me.  
  
I tried not to admit that another part of the equation was his question about
his penis. The sight of it kept flashing into my brain. Not just when he
pulled his pants down in front of me, but also how his thick, erect cock fed
itself into Gail. I couldn't ever completely banish those visions.  
  
I got some relief from Doug's attentions when his camera got delivered. He had
ordered it online and got free express shipping. He read the manual a dozen
times and fiddled with it constantly—leaving me alone—blessedly.  
  
That was until Doug handed me a USB drive as he left for school. "I made this
for you, Mom. We'll talk when I get home."  
  
I'm proud to say I lasted nearly an hour and a half before my curiosity got to
me and I jammed the drive into my USB port and click the play icon.  
  
It showed Doug backing away from the camera. One thing I immediately noticed
was the quality of the video. I never even thought of video quality before,
but this was far superior to anything he had ever recorded. He must have been
trying out his new camera.  
  
A wave of relief ran through me. He was going to show off his new "toy" and
look for his mom to compliment his skills. I had done that all his life, so I
looked on with attention.  
  
He started talking:  
  
"Hi Mom. You can see I'm here in my room and thinking about you. I wanted the
first thing I recorded, except for some stuff while I was experimenting with
the camera, to be dedicated to you."  
  
"I know things have been strange between us for a couple of days, but you have
to admit: these are some pretty strange times. But one thing I do want you to
know and to always know is that I love you. Always have and always will, no
matter what."  
  
"I'm getting ready to graduate, and maybe I seem all sure of myself, but
sometimes I think of going off to college and not having you to turn to every
time I need some help or some advice ... and it makes me a little bit scared."  
  
I had my hand up to my mouth and I felt that pressure in my throat that comes
when I start to get emotional.  
  
"Mom, I want you to know I wouldn't trade you for any other mother in the
whole world. You've always been there for me and taught me right from wrong
and how to stand up for myself and learn how to work out problems on my own.
'That's how you get stronger' you always said. I think I turned out pretty
good. And it's because of you."  
  
I was nodding agreement with almost each and every word he spoke.  
  
"Now I'm going to leave home, and leave you and Dad alone there. I've never
really thought of it before, about whether you really want to be just the two
of you with no kid around, or if you'll miss all the trouble and hassles and
noise I fill the house up with. I dunno. I guess I should have asked somewhere
along the way, but you know me, I'm more wrapped up in my own world, and I
guess I haven't paid enough attention to the people who are most important:
you and Dad."  
  
"But you most of all, because Dad gets busy and tired and he can get a little
short-tempered when I'm just being me. Probably an obnoxious me, lookin' back
on things."  
  
"But, anyway, I think all this stuff happenin' woke me up to a lot of feelings
and made me wonder if it might be bigger things goin' on than we know. Just
like you said about that feeling you got."  
  
"You been wanting another kid for a long time and were always disappointed. I
never slowed down enough to really ask you about it. I was always too busy
having my head in my own stuff and thinking I was the most important and why
would anyone else have any feelings."  
  
"I hope you know it wasn't because I didn't care, but because I didn't know
enough yet. I hope I know more now and act better in the future."  
  
"I think you having another kid would be good for you. You won't have me to
boss around and might need somebody else to take orders!"  
  
He laughed with his handsome face, and I had to laugh too.  
  
"And the kid—that kid would be the luckiest little boy or girl in the world
because they would have you as their mother. Who could ask for more than that?
Nobody. Me most of all, because I know how lucky I've been. Especially now
because I'm going to be going away at the end of the summer. That is if I
graduate! Naw—just kidding, you know I still have an A/B average!"  
  
He laughed.  
  
"So, I think you should have a baby. A baby with me. That's so you will have
another eighteen years to give all your love and hopes and attention to
another human being, and then send them off. Just like you're doing with me.
Another eighteen years of love."  
  
"That's me being all good and mushy, which is all true, but I also have a
selfish reason to want to make love to you."  
  
"About three years ago I started to see how beautiful you were. Not just
'there's my pretty Mom' like all kids think, but I stared seeing you as a
beautiful woman. And I would watch you and compare you and you'd always be on
the top of my list. I started thinking you had a beautiful face and then I
noticed how you kept yourself in such good shape and then I started to look at
your body in different ways, like you weren't just my mom, but you were sexy
too."  
  
"I started to think of you as a woman woman. Not a mom woman. Does that make
sense? It did to me. I started to think about what you would look like naked.
You're so careful around the house, maybe because you're modest or ashamed ...
I don't know."  
  
"But I wondered, and still wonder what you look like. All of you. And it made
me mad that Dad got to see you all the time and he couldn't care less. Yeah,
I've heard you and Aunt Gail talk plenty of times and I know Dad doesn't take
care of business in the bedroom."  
  
"So, I found myself getting horny when I thought of you in certain ways. It
was funny because I could think of you like my mom, like normal, and then I
could turn a switch and think of you like a woman, a sexy woman. That's when I
could jerk off, thinking about you. That started about two years ago."  
  
I stared at the screen. Of course I know it's normal for a teenaged boy to
masturbate, but to be thinking of his own mother shocked me. Especially since
I was the mother in question!  
  
"So, that's my selfish reason. I want to make love to you because I've dreamed
of doing that for years. It's the thing that gets me horniest. Even when I was
fucking Aunt Gail, when I came, I was thinking of you."  
  
So THAT'S why he called out "Mom!" on that video. I don't think I'll be
telling her that tidbit too soon.  
  
"So that's about all I wanted to say. I guess to sum it up: know that I love
you a lot in two different ways, and that I want to see you naked, and that I
want to make love to you to make a baby, and also because I want to fuck you
so hard I make you cum like you deserve and then fill you up with my cum deep
inside you."  
  
"I cum a real lot, and I know all that would make you pregnant."  
  
Make me cum. I hadn't even thought of that. I saw how Gail had cum, but it
didn't even impinge on my brain that I could be able to experience a physical
reaction of that magnitude. I was speechless—and breathless.  
  
Doug reached back on his desk and picked something off it. He then showed it
to the camera. It was the framed portrait of my face he had taken when in his
photography class last year. He was so proud of his work, he had it printed
and framed and gave it to me for my birthday. It usually sat on the mantel.  
  
"There's a thing called a 'cum tribute' where you cum on a photo of the person
you think is sexiest. Mom, I'm gonna give you a cum tribute right now. I told
you so you can either watch or turn this off now. I give you the chance to
decide."  
  
"First I get naked, like I hope you'll do for me."  
  
I noted the time on the video and shut it off. I pulled it out of my computer
and knew I had seen enough.  
  
I went to the kitchen and made a fresh cup of coffee. I drank almost half of
it before I went back to my computer, plugged that damned thing back in,
clicked play, and then pressed the time line to fast forward the video to
approximately the right spot.  
  
"First I get naked, like I hope you'll do for me."  
  
"Good guess, Cyndy," I said out loud.  
  
Doug put the picture down and whipped his top off, then slid his sweatpants
down and kicked them loose. He wasn't wearing underwear. His penis was limp,
but huge, just like I remembered.  
  
He grabbed the picture and walked closer to the camera. Apparently this was
going to be a closeup.  
  
"I used to think of you just getting naked at first. That was plenty to make
me cum."  
  
Doug had wrapped his right hand around his penis and started a slow tug up and
down. It responded immediately and began to stiffen and lengthen. "I can't
believe I'm watching this," I said out loud.  
  
He presented the photo so it was right side up to the camera and upside down
to him. There was my smiling face in clear focus.  
  
"Then, later, I thought of touching you, kinda rubbing my hands over your
naked skin. That really got me going back then."  
  
His penis was about three quarters hard already. The camera showed it's color
and its texture—and its thickness.  
  
"A big one for me was thinking of seeing your hand touch me when I was hard.
Seeing if your fingers could fit around it, and then watching your hand
sliding up and down its whole length. I would look at your hands sometimes
when we were sitting and think about that."  
  
"Then I graduated into sucking your tits. I've never seen them except through
the curves of your clothes, but I can imagine how great it would be to massage
them and lick them and suck them. And while sucking, I put my hand between
your legs and get you nice and wet and stick my middle finger in you."  
  
I involuntarily forced my legs together and then squirmed back and forth.  
  
He was fully hard now. I had gotten a view of his penis with Gail, but that
was pretty far away. This view was amazing. Mind boggling, really. "So big," I
whispered.  
  
His hand slowly pumped up and down. "Mom, I hope you're ready when I push this
deep inside you."  
  
"Oh my God!" I said. "Ready? How could I be ready?" I thought of it sliding
into Gail and wondered if I could actually that that thing. My son had me
imagining him entering me.  
  
"Then I started thinking about fucking you. Fucking you and you enjoying it,
sayin' stuff and telling me you like it and you wanted more. I thought of you
in all sorts of positions. First on your back of course with your long legs
wrapped around me, then with your feet on my shoulders."  
  
"I should shut this off. Shut it off, Cyndy." But, I didn't listen to myself
and kept watching ... and listening. My feet on his shoulders, bending his
mother in half—he had me seeing that in my mind.  
  
He increased the speed of his hand. he was seriously pumping now. Precum was
dripping from the dark hole at the end of his cock. Some of it dripped in a
long, transparent string onto the photo.  
  
"The other two positions too. I never could decide whether I wanted you riding
me on top, straddling me and you in control ..."  
  
"Oohhhh!" I sighed. I used to love that position. Dammit—Gail had been on top!  
  
"... or doggie style, with you on your hands and knees while I drove into you
deep and fast from behind."  
  
"Too much! This is too much! I can't ... I can't stand it!" My voice was
louder in the room. Who was I pleading with? I couldn't bear his words, my
son's own voice, and the images they brought; but I couldn't tear myself away.  
  
Doug's hand was now a blur.  
  
"But you know what does it for me now, Mom?" Doug growled the words out while
panting from the passion and effort. "You know what really does it? It's when
I think of you sucking my cock, and I have my hand on the back of your head
and you look up to me and I let it GO!"  
  
And with that a jet of white erupted from my son's penis and splattered onto
my face. Again and again cum gushed and shot with great force onto my photo.  
  
"MOM! TAKE IT! SUCK! SWALLOW IT! SWALLOW IT! AAHHH!" Doug hoarsely yelled. He
kept ejaculating the whole time.  
  
Unconsciously, I gave one big swallow.  
  
Finally he gave one hard squeeze to wring out the last drops onto my picture.  
  
He bent down while keeping the photo on camera. His face was next to it.  
  
There wasn't much left that you could see of me. Pools of white gelatinous
substance clung in groups where each shot had deposited them. I was looking at
my son's sperm.  
  
He tilted the photo and clear liquid ran—his semen.  
  
"So much cum," I said, in awe.  
  
"Mom, that's how excited you make me. This is what I can leave inside you. You
know what would happen then."  
  
"I know what would happen," I said.  
  
*****************************  
  
I was watching a video. No, not of my son alone. This was a couple on a couch.
The woman was screaming:  

"FUCK ME! DOUG! DOUG! PLEASE FUCK ME ... HARDER!"  
  
Then a little later:  
  
"I'M CUMMING! OH MY GOD! I'M CUMMING LIKE THAT! THERE! I'M CUMMING!"  
  
I shut it off.  
  
I had watched my son's "tribute" many times. Too many times. I had watched his
touching speech a few times too. But the "tribute" ...!  
  
One line he said kept coming back to me: "I want to fuck you so hard I make
you cum like you deserve and then fill you up with my cum deep inside you."  
  
"Cum like I deserve," I said to myself. "If I deserved it, wouldn't I have
gotten at least some satisfaction over the years?" Doug's video had pointed
out to me how frustrated and sex-starved I had become. And how I had
compensated by shutting that part of me down completely.  
  
Now, I ached.  
  
Doug said he would make me cum. It's preposterous for a mother to think of
these sort of things, these taboo subjects. Maybe I DIDN'T deserve to cum—ever
again.  
  
I had watched Gail's video just to see that an orgasm was possible. That it
hadn't been my imagination; Doug had been really able to draw raw emotion out
of her.  
  
Seeing is believing. And now that gnawing jealousy came back because I knew
she had achieved something I never would, that I was barred from by all the
rules and morals from the beginning of time.  
  
I closed my computer, slowly, like I was closing a chapter of my life. I had
resolved not to watch those videos again. They were too painful, and at the
same time—if I was honest and admitted it to myself—too exciting.  
  
"Mom?"  
  
Doug was home. I didn't want to face him, and at the same time knew we had to
face some realities and set some boundaries.  
  
"In here. In the den," I called.  
  
When he turned the corner, I patted the couch beside me. "Come, sit."  
  
"Did you watch it? Didja?" His face was eager.  
  
"I did, and I guess you want my reaction."  
  
"You know I do."  
  
"Well, there were some parts I found touching, and some parts I found
disturbing. But, I found it all to be honest. So, there's that."  
  
"Did it change your mind at all? That's the important part, Mom."  
  
"The most important part was it showed me what you think and what you feel. I
don't blame you or condemn you for anything. I don't judge you."  
  
"Mom, get to the point. Are we going to make a baby?"  
  
"Doug, listen to me! There are lines that should never be crossed. And that's
one of them. The roles of mother and son are sacred; they're much different
from the roles of a man and a woman. A man and a woman are made to come
together in an intimate way to join their bodies to create life."  
  
"That's what I want us to do, Mom. Create a life. You know we could do it. You
saw me cum, didn't you?"  
  
I looked away and gave no indication.  
  
"Didn't you? C'mon, Mom, admit it. You know I could get your pregnant."  
  
"Just because you COULD doesn't mean you SHOULD," I said. "Didn't you hear
what I just said about the difference between a man and a woman and a son and
his mother? There's a line of respect you should give me."  
  
"I DO respect you. And I do love you. Don't you get it? Didn't I say that?" He
took my hand.  
  
"Doug, I saw that part of you, sure. And I saw that other part, and I don't
understand that part, except to think that boys have their fantasies. But,
they should stay fantasies, private things you can think about and enjoy like
you did by ..."  
  
"Jerking off!" he said and laughed.  
  
"Masturbating," I said. "And that's fine and I never want you to feel guilty
about that. But, you should keep that to yourself. I shouldn't have seen
that." I certainly shouldn't have seen that a dozen times. "Frankly, though, I
don't know how you can get excited over your mother. First of all, I'm twenty-
four years older than you, more than twice your age. Don't you find girls your
own age more appropriate for your lusts?"  
  
"They're okay, and sure I think about them too, and have dates and everything.
But, I don't think of your age at all. I just think of how beautiful and sexy
you are. That great body of yours. You don't know how much I want to see you
naked, how much I want to touch you, to kiss you—not like we kiss now, with a
kiss on the cheek, but to really kiss you and feel my tongue in your mouth
and—"  
  
"Doug! You have to stop and control your emotions." He had said a lot of the
same things on the video, but to have him say them sitting on the couch beside
me, right there in person—it was shocking ... and scary.  
  
"Believe me, Mom, I'm controlling my emotions, and have been for years.
Because every time I look at you, I want to say things and tell you things and
do things—not to just make myself feel good, but to make you feel good too. I
know Dad doesn't make you cum, but I could."  
  
"Doug! Don't!"  
  
"You get me excited, Mom. Don't I get you excited at all?"  
  
"Don't be stupid! Of course not! I'm your mother, and look at you with the
eyes and feelings of a mother for her son. Nothing more." I thought I was
telling the truth. But, I knew I wasn't telling the whole truth. Those videos
had awakened something. First, seeing Gail—seeing her in the throes of sexual
ecstasy—and that orgasm brought about this very boy next to me—that excited
me. Then, seeing that great, gorgeous cock of his. I dissociated it from him
in a way and just craved its maleness in its elemental form. That it belonged
to him specifically was almost an afterthought.  
  
"So you never had any thoughts about what I wanted to do to you, what I said
on the video?"  
  
About fucking me so hard I would cum? About bending me and putting my feet on
your shoulders? About forcing me to my hands and knees and grabbing my hips
and driving into me from behind? About riding you until I came—like Gail did?
About swallowing your cum? I lied:  
  
"Not at all. Don't be silly. Not once. I'm your mother."  
  
"Mom, I really want to see you naked. Wouldn't you just do that much for me?"  
  
"Doug, that's out of the question. Be a good boy. We're trying to have a
serious conversation here."  
  
"What would it hurt if I saw you without clothes on. You saw me."  
  
"I won't have this discussion." I thought back to when he pulled his pants
down.  
  
"You never saw my hardon. I mean in person. Wanna see it?"  
  
Oh my God! Of course I wanted to see it. But not while my son was there. That
didn't make any sense, but that's the thought I had. If I could only SEE that
hardon, maybe touch it—all without him knowing I wanted to see it and touch
it—that would be fine. But otherwise:  
  
"NO! And I mean NO!"  
  
"Okay, so you know I'm horny for you, Mom, and for good reasons because I know
how sexy you are and that you need to cum and to cum soon, and you know that.
But, on the other hand, we have to make a baby. You know that too. And, to me
that's become the most important thing. And for me, that's saying a lot
because I've got years invested in just wanting to fuck you. But now it's the
most important thing in my life to 'make love to you' so that we can bring our
baby home like you said after the abortion."  
  
"Doug, it would be easy to have made a snap decision and given a quick
'no'—but I DID think it over because of the powerful reaction I received that
day. And after a lot of consideration, honey, the answer is 'no' and will
always be 'no.' So you have to accept it."  
  
"Mom ..."  
  
"That's it. We have to get back to our normal lives and normal relationship.
You can have all the fantasies you want, but keep them to yourself. I don't
want to see any more videos—and I don't want to clean up any of your
'messes'—especially on my photos!" I laughed, wanting to break the tension.  
  
"I hope you change you mind, Mom. This is important. Important to me and
important to you. There's a baby floating around waiting for you to say 'yes'
to it, to let it grow inside you, to love you for its whole life. All it takes
is for you to realize that its more right than wrong. And easier than you
think if you just open yourself up to it. Something is going to make you say
'yes' and I know it. I thought it was going to be me making that video, but
maybe I was wrong. I thought you'd see something in that that would turn you
around. But, maybe it'll be something else. I still believe it's going to
happen, happen the night that's its supposed to."  
  
"You're wrong, Doug. It's done."  
  
"And, about my fantasies: for something I wanted so much for so long—how much
would it hurt if I saw you naked and got to touch you? At least you could do
that for me because it would mean so much and it would cost you nothing.
NOTHING! Think about it, Mom. Think about everything I said."  
  
***************************  
  
I thought and I thought. Then I thought some more. I had, of course, broken my
promise to myself about watching the videos. I looked for a reason to change
my mind.  
  
But, the only thing they did was make Doug's words about my needing to cum and
cum soon all the more true.  
  
Ned had been his usual self except an unusual interest in that nightie I had
gotten. I offered to try it on for him, but he said he wanted to save it for
the hotel. That seeing it for the first time would "really do it" for him. I
hoped so. it had been so long since he "did it" for me, that I had forgotten
that he really could do it.  
  
Doug and I had a tense but civil truce going on. His words about his fantasies
weighed on me and I wondered what would be the difference if he did see me
naked—once. It would be his dream come true and it wouldn't really cost me
anything, even emotionally. Maybe it would even give me a little boost to know
I was admired. But, that was just a passing thought in the back of my mind and
knew I probably would never have the motivation, courage, or opportunity to
let it come about.  
  
This was the weekend Gail and Vance headed up to the twins' college. True to
his word, Doug headed over to their place, armed with the list of chores Gail
had emailed. He planned to work the whole Saturday in the yard. And this was
the hottest day yet.  
  
An idea popped into my head. As a peace offering, I packed up a picnic lunch
and surprised him.  
  
He was busy raking with his back to me. He was wearing just his running shorts
and shoes—and his back was covered with sweat from the heat and the effort.  
  
"Hey there, hard worker," I said cheerily.  
  
He turned. "Mom, what are you doing here. I've got a lot of work to still get
done."  
  
Sounded like we still had a distance or a barrier between us. But, I expected
a little of that and was determined to smooth things out.  
  
I held up my tote bag: "Hope you're not too busy for my famous egg salad!" It
was his favorite, especially outside, picnic style."  
  
"Well, maybe I can stop for a little while."  
  
"Good. I'll go get one of Aunt Gail's blankets and we can eat right here."  
  
On the way to the house, I passed a bench with Doug's new camera on it. I
pointed and yelled "Practicing?"  
  
He yelled back "Always!"  
  
I came back with the blanket and was about to put it down when Doug said,
"Over here, Mom. I haven't raked that and it'll get all loose grass on it.  
  
We sat and ate. I had gotten two bottles of water from Gail's fridge. The
coolness of the bottle and the water itself felt good in the heat and
humidity.  
  
We talked of a lot of things, and avoided "other things." It went well, and I
thought this was a great first step to healing everything that had been
frayed.  
  
As we finished, I said, "Okay, Mister, your ol' mom will let you get back to
work."  
  
"I think I'll go for a swim first to cool off," he said.  
  
"Shouldn't you wait for a half hour after you eat?" That's what my mother had
told me.  
  
"I don't think that's a real thing. Or, if it is, it's for young kids."  
  
"Not for a college boy?" I laughed.  
  
"Tell you what. You can stay and be the lifeguard. You were on the college
swim team so I'll feel safe with you here."  
  
I knew he was joking, but part of me wanted to make sure he got out of that
pool safely. "Okay, I'll sit here for a while."  
  
Doug got up, kicked off his shoes, and without a bit of hesitation, dropped
his shorts to the grass. He was completely naked now.  
  
He smiled, turned, ran to the pool and dove in. He was a good swimmer—not as
good as me, but I had had years of training back then, and even now swam a lot
for exercise.  
  
"Don't sit out there in the boiling sun, Mom. Come on in and cool off. You'll
love it. I just cleaned the pool. It's perfect."  
  
"Love to," I said. "Wish I had thought to bring my new suit."  
  
"I didn't bring a suit, and that didn't bother me."  
  
"I noticed. I'm good right here," I said.  
  
"Too bad because I think this year I could beat you in a race. One lap, winner
take all!"  
  
"You never beat me before, and probably never will, Buster!"  
  
"That was last year. I'm bigger now. And smarter. I have strategies." he
laughed.  
  
I laughed too because there weren't many strategies in a short race other than
"swim fast!"  
  
"I'll pass for today, but take a rain check."  
  
He made that chicken sound. "She's afraid her son will finally take the family
title away from her. I understand." He raised both fists over his head and
shouted: "The new champion!"  
  
"That's it! You need a good lesson in humility! I'll go get one of your aunt's
bathing suits."  
  
"You know you have completely different builds. It'll never fit you. Just come
in."  
  
"The chlorine will ruin my clothes. No thank you."  
  
"Then—do like I did—lose the clothes."  
  
That hit me in the gut like a punch. "Not a good idea," I said.  
  
"Great idea. So hot out there, nice cool water here." He made the chicken
sound again.  
  
"Stop it."  
  
"Good opportunity for a nice swim with your son who's doing work for his aunt
to pay back for a certain thing. C'mon, Mom. Lose the clothes and dive in.
I'll turn around if you're that scared of being 'natural.' I'm glad I'm not.
Feels good to swim like this."  
  
"Maybe just in my underwear then." Although I was wearing colored underwear
and I had the same concern about the chlorine.  
  
"Mom!"  
  
I had said I needed three things to do this: opportunity (check), motivation
(I'd show HIM who could still swim faster ... check), and courage (that was
the sticking point).  
  
"You'll turn around until I'm in the pool and then when I get out. Okay?"  
  
"Turning around now," he said, and did.  
  
I pulled my yellow T-shirt over my head and dropped it to the blanket. Kicked
off my flip-flops, then unbuttoned and unzipped my blue shorts. Down they
came.  
  
I was standing there in my underwear and wondering what I was doing.  
  
"What's taking so long?"  
  
"Just be patient. The only person I ever did this with was your Aunt Gail."  
  
"And now me."  
  
I breathed deep, unhooked my bra and dropped it off me. Down came my panties.
And—I was naked. I ran to the pool and dived in. Before I hit the water I
said:  
  
"And now you!"  
  
The cool pleasure of the water contrasted indescribably with the fierce sun. I
felt so alive in the water. I glided through it with almost no effort.  
  
"Now," I said, "ready for that race?"  
  
"Want to make it interesting?" he asked.  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"You win—I clean out the garage—like you've been begging me to do for two
years."  
  
"Okay. And ... if you win?"  
  
"I don't turn around when you get out. I get to finally see you naked and
cross that off my fantasy list."  
  
"I can't believe it," I said.  
  
"Believe what?"  
  
"That my garage is finally going to get cleaned!" Being in the water, my
element, had given me loads of confidence—just like I had in my prime before
races.  
  
"Ready when you are, Mom!" Doug's voice was almost stuttering with excitement
and anticipation.  
  
We got to the deep end of the pool, and I was fully submerged the whole time.
"Up and back, one lap for all the marbles," I said. "I'll even let you say
'go!'"  
  
"Ready, set, GO!" he shouted.  
  
And we were off. I pushed against the end of the pool and shot out, then I
fell into my old rhythm almost immediately. Stroke after stroke and before i
knew it I was doing my old automated turn that never failed me. I pushed even
harder on the return and my hand stretched and tagged the end of the pool.  
  
I was a good two strokes in front of my son.  
  
"And STILL champion!" I yelled. Doug's face showed his disappointment. Not
only had a "girl" beaten him, but that girl was his 42-year-old mother. And,
now he had the huge task of cleaning the garage in front of him. AND—he had,
due to his own inadequate efforts, lost the chance to see his mother naked.  
  
Looking at him, I made a decision. "Come swim with me," I said and struck out
for the opposite end. I didn't wait to see if he followed. He did.  
  
When we got to the end, the shallow end, I said, "I hope this teaches you
never to bet against somebody who's much better at something. You owe me a
clean garage. And I thought about what you said the other day, so—cross this
off."  
  
I turned to the ladder and stood up. The water was only up to my knees. I knew
my son was seeing my naked back and butt. I climbed out and then turned to
face him. His eyes were wide and his mouth open as he took in my naked breasts
and the dark tangle of my pubic hair.  
  
I stood there for about fifteen seconds before saying, I'm going to work on my
tan for a while. Don't let me burn if I fall asleep."  
  
He didn't say anything as I stretched myself out, face down on the blanket. I
didn't look when he got out. I heard him pause near the blanket, probably
taking in his naked mother he had dreamed seeing. I hoped I wasn't a big
disappointment.  
  
Then he headed for the house, which puzzled me. But he was back in no time.  
  
"Mom!" His voice was jittery.  
  
"Uh-huh," I said dreamily. The cool water and the hot sun had made me dozy.  
  
"I got some sun screen so you don't burn."  
  
I thought for a moment before saying, "Would you be a dear and put some on my
back?"  
  
He didn't need to be asked twice. He knelt down beside me and I heard him
fumble with the tube of lotion. Then the flat of his hand met my back. The
lotion was still cool from the house and felt good.  
  
"Mmmm," I cooed. "That's nice."  
  
He continued until he had covered my whole back.  
  
"Don't forget my legs."  
  
He took the invitation seriously and worked their whole length with diligence
and attention. He bent each knee, extending a foot in the air, and proceeded
to lather each up, including between my toes. He took that task SO seriously,
I began to think he might have a foot fetish.  
  
Then, on his own, getting a bit bolder, he rubbed my lower back, then a bit
lower to the top of my butt—then lower still, and when I didn't stop him,
glided his hand from my lower back to the back of my thigh.  
  
He had run his hand all the way along one of my naked butt cheeks. He paused,
probably to see my reaction. Another item on his masturbatory list was running
his hands over my naked body. (Check!)  
  
Since I was destined to disappoint him on his quest to impregnate me,
something in the back of my mind wanted to at least compensate by giving in to
a fantasy that had excited him over the past few years.  
  
I kept silent and his hand again made that same journey, then over the other
cheek. I bet he couldn't believe he was feeling his mother's naked ass in his
hands. I had to chuckle a little to myself.  
  
I let him have his fun there for over thirty seconds, and said, "That's
enough, Doug. Thank you," when his fingers delved momentarily into my butt
crack.  
  
"Turn over, Mom."  
  
"I'm good like this," I said. It was one thing to look at my back and butt,
and another to show the other "goodies" at such close range.  
  
"C'mon, Mom, you don't want to be brown on one side and white on the other."  
  
"The difference is I can't reach my back, not all of it, and I needed your
help. I can reach my front fine, so leave the sunscreen and I'll take care of
it when I flip over later."  
  
"Mom, you've got such a beautiful body. I didn't even know when I imagined it
that you would look like this. I really like being able to finally touch you.
Your skin is so smooth and you're so soft. Let me do your front too."  

"I don't think that would be right. Remember, I'm your mother still."  
  
"But, your a woman too. A gorgeous woman who happens to be my mother. I can
see you both ways at once. You don't know what seeing you like this is doing
for me."  
  
My eyes flew open. What the sight of my body was "doing for him!" I didn't
take that to mean some deep psychological benefit. He could only mean that his
OWN body was responding. Somehow I had been picturing him passively applying
the lotion and using his eyes as the principal organ of his fascination. That
"other" organ, his penis, must have also registered the seismic shock of his
naked mother.  
  
This realization had me torn. Do I take the modest route and NOT see it, or
throw caution to the winds, flip over, and get a close look?  
  
I had seen it in the videos, but those were videos. And I had seen it in
person—but in a deflated state. Many times my mind had posed the question "I
wonder what that looks like at close range? It can't be so ... impressive."  
  
I chose to flip over, but I didn't want to appear too eager.  
  
"Doug, that would be too much." I wondered if he would give up.  
  
"Mom, when you got out of the water, I couldn't take my eyes off you. But, the
sun was behind you and I really couldn't get a good look at those beautiful
tits of yours, your nipples. Please, Mom—turn over."  
  
With a big, exaggerated false sigh, I did a slow roll on the blanket. Doug
also let out a big sigh. I hoped it wasn't "exaggerated" ... or "false."  
  
"Oh Mom! This is so much better than I thought!"  
  
I brought my right forearm up over my eyes. I wanted to Doug to surmise I was
modestly shielding myself from his gaze. What I was really doing in
camouflaging my staring at my son's penis—which was at full attention.  
  
And it WAS impressive. My thoughts echoed Doug's words: "So much better than I
thought!" The videos didn't do it justice: they didn't convey its length and
thickness, its obvious hardness, or the sweeping taper of its massive mushroom
head. That taper would allow it to ease its way into the small elastic opening
of a vagina, teasing it wider as it entered. (Why was I even thinking that?")  
  
I saw Doug squeeze some lotion into his palm. Then he gently rubbed it onto my
stomach.  
  
"That feels good," I said. It did.  
  
He worked from my ribcage to my lower abdomen, and even wormed his finger into
my navel. I squirmed and said, "Don't tickle." He stopped. Stopped that, and
then began a more adventurous area: my breasts.  
  
He approached slowly, circling around, doing my neck and upper chest. His
penis now had a tip glistening with fluid reflecting the sunlight.  
  
"I think that's enough for now," I said. Maybe he was afraid that his
"privileges" were about to be revoked, so with one bold move, his hand swept
over my right breast and rubbed down and around and under, covering it all
with sunscreen.  
  
"DOUG!" I said and grabbed his hand.  
  
"Just a little more, Mom. Let me do the other one."  
  
I let go of his hand and draped my forearm back over my eyes, but never
letting my gaze drift very far from that rigid pole that swayed with the
motions of his massage.  
  
His hand reached across and soon my left breast was also protected against the
hot Texas sun.  
  
"Your nipples are a lot darker than Aunt Gail's."  
  
"So you like hers better?" I asked.  
  
"I'd have to suck them to see," he said, and before I could protest, he bent
his head down and took a long draw on my right breast, sucking and running his
tongue around my nipple. (Suck Mom's tits—Check!)  
  
"DOUG! NO!"  
  
He stopped and said, "Thought so! Yours are much better!" Then he moved to the
ankle of my right leg and moved his way up, replenishing the sunscreen in his
right hand as needed. His left hand held the tube of sunscreen, and it looked
like it held something else too, but I couldn't tell with the bright sun
beaming down.  
  
He got to my inner thigh and I squeezed my legs together. He moved on to the
other leg and repeated the procedure. As he got to the top, he trailed his
hand completely over my dense pubic hair.  
  
"OKAY! That's enough," I said. And this time my voice showed I meant it.  
  
"Just your arms, Mom. That's all that's left."  
  
"JUST the arms, and then we're done. Understand?"  
  
"Yeah, Mom."  
  
He started at my shoulder and worked his way down my upper arm, not only
sliding over the skin, but squeezing and massaging. It felt great, and I
relaxed completely. I even closed my eyes. Down to my forearm, and then even
my hand and fingers. He squeezed each fingertip, surprising me with how good
it felt.  
  
That's when he did it. He took my relaxed and limp hand, my palm and
fingers—and wrapped them around his hot and hard erect penis. A shock went
through me.  
  
I had touched my son's cock!  
  
I pulled my hand away. "Doug! That wasn't right."  
  
"Mom, it's okay. I see you looking at me. I see you watching my cock the whole
time. I wondered what you felt like, what your body felt like. Now I know and
it means so much to me. Don't you wonder what my cock feels like?"  
  
"No! Of course not," I lied.  
  
"Don't you want to see how hard I am?" He took hold of my hand, but didn't
pull on it at all.  
  
"Stop it right now!"  
  
"Don't you want to feel what went all the way inside Aunt Gail?" Now he was
slowly guiding my hand towards his cock.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous," I said. And, at that point I should have done
something. What that something was eluded me. What had occurred in the last
half hour had paralyzed my thought process and will. The water, the sun, the
massage—his penis—all mesmerized me into a state of extreme suggestibility.
What I didn't want to happen—and what I naughtily imagined were blurring.  
  
"Don't you want to measure with your hand how thick it is?" Doug wrapped my
fingers around it and I did gage its thickness: my fingers couldn't fit around
it.  
  
"Doug, no!" I said. But I didn't take my hand away.  
  
"Don't you want to feel how long it is?" he asked as he guided my hand up and
down the whole length. Then up and down again.  
  
"Stop it," I said feebly.  
  
"Do you think it would fit? Yanno?"  
  
My hand continued and I squeezed a little harder. I did know what he meant. I
knew where it might ... or might not fit.  
  
"Don't talk like that." The pace of my hand increased.  
  
"Don't you want to see me cum?"  
  
THAT jolted me. I took my hand off and said, "You'll have to do THAT
yourself!"  
  
I thought that would have ended things, but Doug took me literally and wrapped
his own hand around that thick cock.  
  
"Wait till you see how much I cum, Mom!"  
  
"Don't! Please don't!"  
  
"Here, I'll give you a better look," he said while sidling up towards my face.
I should have rolled away, but kept my eyes on his fist, which had picked up
speed and was pistoning him towards the inevitable.  
  
The inevitable arrived sooner than I thought possible. There was barely time
for him to position the tip of his cock a few inches from my face.  
  
"Open your mouth, Mom!"  
  
"NOOO!" But I didn't move, I couldn't.  
  
"Open your mouth! PLEASE!"  
  
The first one hit my cheek. My son was cumming.  
  
"PLEASE!" he yelled.  
  
I opened my mouth and the second one hit my tongue, the third and fourth
streams hit the back of my throat. I almost coughed.  
  
Then he said those words I had first heard on the video: "SWALLOW IT! PLEASE
MOM ... SWALLOW IT!"  
  
My mouth closed and my throat convulsed. I swallowed it.  
  
The rest went spraying across my face in random lines. I found the strength to
lurch up, get on my feet, and run to the pool. I dived in and scrubbed my face
with my hands underwater. I repeated it much more than was necessary.  
  
Then I climbed out of the pool climbed into my clothes and left without saying
a word to Doug, who was standing there watching me. He also was silent.  
  
I got into the car and started it. I turned the rearview mirror onto myself
and looked at the reflection. A salty sourness lingered as I said to my image:  
  
"Doug came in your mouth. You swallowed your son's sperm."  
  
******************************  
  
"Dammit!" I said. "Dammit! Dammit!" I said.  
  
I was proving you couldn't wear out that word. I threw in a lot of "How?" and
"Why?" too.  
  
I had been at it in the den for over a half hour since my shower. A long, hot
shower that had more to do about scrubbing (and not because of the chlorine)
than about relaxing.  
  
"How did that get SO out of hand?" That was the first time I had articulated a
full thought since I had gotten home.  
  
I had heard Doug get home and go to his room. I didn't want to see him—I guess
"face him" would be a better term. I was having a hard time confronting what
had happened with myself, never mind with my own son.  
  
I wanted to assign blame. To point a finger, but that finger kept pointing
right back at me.  
  
"You should have known better. You should have. Definitely. Absolutely."  
  
I heard the shower start, then a while later, stop. I doubt if Doug had tried
to cleanse himself the way I had, not only bodily, but emotionally.  
  
I was still pacing and had graduated from "Dammit!" to "Stupid, so stupid!"  
  
"Don't beat yourself up, Mom." Doug's unannounced voice made me jump and turn
towards him as he entered the den.  
  
"I don't want to SEE you, let alone talk with you."  
  
"We're going to have to talk sometime. You always told me not to run away from
stuff."  
  
"What happened was wrong! Shameful!"  
  
"What part? Being naked? Nudists do that by the millions. Giving you a
massage? Didn't that feel good in the sun? And me cumming. That was just
because I thought you were so gorgeous and sexy. You already knew that."  
  
"I'm your mother!" I said as if that explained it all.  
  
"And I'm your son. That made it all the better and more beautiful to me. That
we could share everything like not a lot of people get to do. Don't you see
that it wouldn't have happened if it wasn't supposed to happen like that.
Don't you see that we're getting ready to make a baby together and this was a
real big step in that direction. That we had to take this small step to get
ready for that—that bigger step. Now our bodies know each other better."  
  
"You're not even making any sense because you're just young and foolish—and
horny. A teenager full of hormones who doesn't care about the consequences."  
  
"And YOU weren't horny, Mom?"  
  
That shook me. I was dumbstruck. I hadn't even thought about my own state of
sexual arousal. Hadn't even acknowledged it could be possible. In all this, I
had attributed my attention to the videos and Doug as curiosity.  
  
When I didn't say anything, Doug continued: "Mom, when I was rubbing the
sunscreen on your inner thighs, there was an ocean of slippery stuff between
your legs. You were creaming like crazy and left a big wet spot on the
blanket. You were horny—definitely horny. It's nothing to be ashamed of."  
  
His words hit me like a train. Could I have been denying my own arousal so
much I hadn't even let it intrude in my mind as a possibility? "Doug ... I
..."  
  
"Let it go, Mom. Like I said, this is all part of what's supposed to happen.
Your body knows it, my body knows it. We should be happy that it won't be us
fumbling around and being nervous or anything. When we have to do it—when we
have to make our baby. It's all happening for a purpose. Like you said. The
perfect way, the perfect place. Today was just part if it."  
  
"It was my fault," I finally said. "I don't want you to feel guilty about it."  
  
"Guilty about what? Haven't you been listening at all. Wake up, Mom! It's
okay. What we did was okay and I'm happy about it, and I'll never be guilty.
Not ever."  
  
"We have to forget about it. Forget it ever happened and get back to normal."  
  
I noticed for the first time Doug had some papers in his hand.  
  
He offered one to me and said: "Forget about THIS?" It was a printed photo of
me standing naked on the blanket. "Or this?" It was him rubbing his hand over
my butt as I lay face down. "Or this?" It was him sucking my breast. He didn't
say anything else as he continued to hand me photos of (in order): his hand
deep into my pubic hair, my hand wrapped around his penis, and last—my mouth
open as a gush of white erupted from his cock made its way into it.  
  
My knees went weak. He helped me to the couch, where I sat staring blindly at
what I had in my hands.  
  
Finally I asked, "What? How?"  
  
He took it as a literal question that he was proud to answer. He held up and
little plastic rectangle. "Remote control ... for my camera. You even
mentioned you saw it, the camera. Remember?"  
  
Remembering all the way back to that afternoon seemed like too cruel a task
for my fried brain to perform.  
  
"I can turn it on or off, record video, or take still pictures, zoom in or
out—all with this little remote. I just cropped and printed those out of all
the rest I have." He pulled a blue USB drive from his pocket. The video is on
here."  
  
He offered it to me, but I turned my head away. "Suit yourself," he said, and
headed for the door.  
  
I mumbled, and he turned. "What? You say something, Mom?"  
  
"LEAVE IT!" I shouted. Then again, this time in a whisper, "Leave the damned
thing."  
  
He put it on the coffee table where I let it sit for a long time.  
  
I finally put it in my pocket and headed for the bathroom. I rummaged in the
hamper and found the panties I had worn that afternoon. They were a little
damp from my putting them on while still wet from the pool.  
  
BUT— the crotch was soaked and the inner panel covered with a thick residue of
my secretions, topped by two dark, curly pubic hairs extracted by the glue I
deposited. I had creamed my panties.  
  
********************************  
  
"What? Did you two have a lover's spat!" Ned joked at dinner. "Neither of you
has said a word all night. "What gives?"  
  
Doug thought that was funny. I gave him my iciest stare.  
  
"Nobody?"  
  
Doug said, "A little thing I did left a bad taste in Mom's mouth!" He laughed.
The little shit was making fun of this.  
  
"A wise man said ..." Ned seemed to search for a second, and then continued,
"something very profound that covers whatever happened, so just remember
that." He and Doug laughed. I didn't.  
  
"Be happy you have each other and you have today to be thankful for," he said.  
  
I certainly wasn't thankful for today. My son had gotten me naked, came in my
mouth, and I had learned that he actually made my sex-deprived body respond
receptively to him. Not a day I'd mark down as one to be proud of.  
  
Ned said, "Which brings me to some big news at work: Mr. Fezicaldi is
retiring. Out of the blue—retiring. He's been my boss forever. The whole
division can't believe it, and the rumors are going wild about who's going to
replace him. It's a big, big job and would mean a big pay raise."  
  
"You got a shot at it, Dad?"  
  
"Me? I'd love it. That's for sure, but there are three guys in front of me
with a lot better chance. It would take a miracle for me to get that. A
miracle, I tell you, and a wise man once said ..."  
  
I didn't listen to what Ned had to say. My mind was on a certain blue USB
drive.  
  
************************  
  
"Your hand looks absolutely tiny," Gail said.  
  
She was referring to my hand as it was wrapped around my son's penis.  
  
Gail and Vance had returned from their visit to Matt's and Pat's college. She
had called to talk with Doug and thank him for what a good job he did with the
yard work.  
  
I had handed him the phone, and blanched when he told her: "I was glad to do
it, Aunt Gail. But, I couldn't have lasted the whole day without Mom's
support. She brought a lunch over, and then joined me for a swim. Then she
helped me relax and regain my strength so I could finish up. I made a video of
it. I'll give you a copy if she doesn't show it to you!"  
  
I was livid. That video was the last thing I ever wanted anyone to see. But,
if there was one person in the world I could share it with, it WAS my best
friend, and now we had a shared history concerning my son's big damned cock.  
  
I had watched the video a dozen times. It was an edited version of the events,
and about five minutes long, capturing all the highlights.  
  
"See, here," and she paused the video, "here's where you made your mistake."
This was the second time through and she apparently thought she was an expert
commentator now.  
  
"You took your hand away and lost control of the situation. Doug started
masturbating and he was in total control after that."  
  
"Aren't you the least bit shocked that my son was treating his mother like
this?"  
  
She just shrugged and said, "Look, ever since my abortion I've been seeing
things a lot differently. My mind has opened up to new possibilities, and this
looks like one of them to me. Like right there, I wouldn't have let go of the
upper hand. You had him right where you wanted him. Admit it. You wanted to
feel his cock. I can tell by the way you acted there. The way your hand
circled around him and then didn't let go and then pumped him for a while. You
were taking the equipment for a test drive. You were kicking the tires and
seeing what he was packing there. You probably were sizing up what it would
feel like if he stuffed that where there's been a 'No Visitors' sign hung for
a couple of years. Obvious."  
  
"Ridiculous," I said. Was Gail psychic or did she know me too well. "So what
would you have done, Miss Total Control," I asked.  
  
"Me? Knowing what I do now? I would have jerked him off! NO! I would have
given him a blowjob and taken that whole load and swallowed it, not just a few
squirts like you did. WHICH reminds me—you didn't just open your mouth up on
the spur of the moment. You must have had some inkling that he would say
that—somehow—and imagined yourself doing that before it really happened. Am I
right?"  
  
"Ridiculous!" I said again. But, of course, I had heard those words during his
"tribute" and had thought about them a lot. I guess I had imagined swallowing
his cum long before it happened. Damn you, Gail!  
  
"I just spent a weekend with Vance and I got him to 'do it' but regretted it
because of his pathetic performance. He isn't really impotent, not all the way
impotent, but does a great impression of it. You know what I was thinking
about the whole time? I was thinking about Doug climbing on top of me and
feeding that thing in so deep it made me scream, and then fucking me so hard I
would cum until I passed out."  
  
"Gail ..." I didn't know how to respond to something like that. That was my
son she was talking about.  
  
"I'm being honest with you. Doug made me cum like I never had before and the
echoes of it are still there. Before, they were muted by my being pregnant,
but now they're clear. Can you understand that?"  
  
I nodded. She was serious, not playful like she had been a minute before.  
  
"All that hocus pocus about Doug believing he should get you pregnant. I
believe it too. For some reason, I do. If you don't, I support you with that.
A mother and a son—that's special to begin with. If you want to keep it just
at that level—that's the way it should be. If for some reason you see it's
really the right thing to become a man and a woman too—and mate together. I
will totally and forever support you with that too."  
  
"I couldn't do it," I said.  
  
"Then, that's cool with me. But, before seeing this video, I would have bet
you couldn't do these things either. There's something going on. Something
none of us will understand until this phase of our lives is over. Until we
have some perspective."  
  
"I know you believe that, Gail, but—"  
  
"Here's what I believe: I believe You should get pregnant and have another
baby. I believe that baby would be the one I lost, the one Doug lost too. I
believe, and this is just frosting on the cake—I also believe Doug would make
you cum so hard it'll make you cry."  
  
*********************  
  
"FAMILY MEETING!"  
  
The call came from the kitchen. It was Ned's voice. He must have just gotten
home from work—unexpectedly—three hours early.  

It was Friday, the day before our raffle-win mini-vacation at the hotel. It
was also the day before my calculated ovulation.  
  
I was still angry and upset about the pool incident, but had maintained a
cool, but calmer relationship with Doug. He had smugly pointed out at times
that he believed we should "mate" (not his word, but conveying his intentions
in Gail's language) tomorrow.  
  
I kept telling him it wasn't "in the cards." (I didn't say that specifically,
but I wanted to impress on him that destiny idea was something I didn't
subscribe to.)  
  
I climbed the basement stairs; I had been in the laundry room. Doug entered
the kitchen moments after me, from his room, probably.  
  
"Now that we're all here," Ned said, "I want you to try and guess who's the
new Central South District Manager?"  
  
"Bennett," Doug said, laughing.  
  
"Wiseass!" Ned said. "Nope, he announced he was transferring to Tucson to take
care of his aging parents. He would have been my first pick though. Did I tell
you that last week?"  
  
"Albert?" Doug kidded.  
  
"Wrong again, smarty-panties! He's—get this—leaving the company to start an
art gallery with his 'partner,' Todd. Who knew he had a 'partner.' I thought
he was a confirmed bachelor."  
  
Doug was about to speak when Ned said, "And it's not Andrew either. Because
Andrew—well, with Andrew it's complicated!" He laughed. We all laughed!  
  
It felt good to laugh. I was so happy for Ned. He had dreamed of this for so
long, but never thought it would happen.  
  
"The cream rises to the top!" he boasted while spreading his arms wide and
taking a full turn to "present" himself for worship in front of his adoring
family. I stepped up close and kissed him on the cheek.  
  
"Sounds like the cream had a lot of help, Dad!"  
  
"Sometimes fate just steps in and makes things right!"  
  
Fate. That word. I had been thinking about destiny, and it made me wonder what
the difference was.  
  
"Well, that's the good news," Ned added.  
  
"When you say that," I said, "there's always bad news peeking around the
corner. What is it?"  
  
"I have to fly out tonight for Chicago, the national office. I have some
meetings over the weekend and early next week. We have to make sure the
transition is smooth and clear."  
  
"But, tomorrow night. We planned—" I started.  
  
"I know. I was looking forward to it," Ned said. There might have been some
real regret in his voice if he hadn't been so excited about getting the huge
promotion. He couldn't hide that. "I'll make it up to you, if you know what I
mean," he said while giving me a big, hard slap on my butt.  
  
"Ouch!"  
  
"Fate!" Doug said with gusto. "Dad, I'll take Mom tomorrow!"  
  
"Stick you in a boring hotel on a Saturday night? No way! You go out with the
boys and have fun. Leave your ol' Mom to—hey, why not invite Gail to a girls'
night out. You'll eat, drink, have some laughs. All in a big, posh—have pillow
fights! Who knows what wild things can happen on a night like that!"  
  
"That's a good idea!" I said. I smugly looked at Doug and added, "Fate works
in mysterious ways!"  
  
**********************************  
  
"You're fighting against it."  
  
Doug's voice came from behind me as I bent over the bed. I just finished
packing my overnight bag. I closed the lid of the small suitcase and snapped
it shut.  
  
"Don't start," I said.  
  
"Don't you see—Dad's promotion ... leaving us alone tonight? All that? Doesn't
that mean anything to you? Like it's a sign, a real sign? Not something made
up?"  
  
"Or just a coincidence," I said, not letting emotion creep into my voice.  
  
I expected another one of his long, detailed lists of reasons about why we
should "make love" tonight. Instead, he said, "Have a good time," and walked
down the hall.  
  
"If you go out, be careful," I called after him, giving my usual motherly
caution.  
  
"Don't worry. I'm staying in. I don't feel like doing anything—for some
REASON!" His bedroom door slammed.  
  
I drove downtown to the hotel early. Gail was meeting me there later. I
checked in and was in awe of the grandeur. The high ceilings, the lighting,
the shiny brass, the carpets you sank into—and this was just the lobby.  
  
The desk clerk said, "We're happy to host you in Room 313, Ma'am."  
  
The atmosphere was getting to me a little, and I gushed: "That was my locker
number ... in high school." I felt a little embarrassed after blurting out an
irrelevant fact.  
  
"A happy coincidence. I hope it's a signal of a memorable evening," he said
with precise and practiced eloquence. "There're complimentary chocolates,
flowers, and champagne in your room." He handed me the key card.  
  
My awe didn't diminish on the ride up the elevator. The doors opened and I
walked down the hall . Each room had huge brass numbers identifying it. Under
each number was a brass plate with writing on it. I read each as I made my way
up the hall. They were all "wise sayings" like: "Adversity presents more
opportunities than problems" or "Tomorrow only comes when you use up today to
the fullest."  
  
I got to Room 313 and read the brass plaque. I pushed the key card into the
slot and opened the door. The room was breathtaking. I put my bag down, pulled
out my phone, and called Gail.  
  
"Wait until you see this room!" We talked for a few minutes and straightened
out some last-minute things. She, as usual had her own ideas, but it all
worked out. "Call when you get to the lobby and I'll come get you. You need
the key card or an escort to use the elevator."  
  
About a half hour later Gail called and I looked across the lobby, scanning
for her face. She was waving to get my attention. I walked over to her and
gave her a big hug."  
  
"Ready for the big night?" she asked. We both laughed.  
  
******************************  
  
I lightly knocked on the door. It slowly opened.  
  
"Mom?" Doug said, puzzled. And then: "MOM!"  
  
I had walked to Doug's room barefoot. I was wearing my new black
nightie—without any hampering underwear, and I hoped I was sending the right
message.  
  
"Can I come in?"  
  
Doug merely stepped aside. He had no words yet.  
  
I walked in, turned, and held out my arms. In a moment, I was enwrapped in his
strong arms. I pressed the right side of my face against his warm chest and we
stayed motionless for a while, adjusting to our impromptu rendezvous.  
  
Finally, Doug couldn't contain his curiosity. "Mom, what—"  
  
I put a finger to his lips to stop him. "Let's just say I realized this is
where I should be tonight, and why I should be here."  
  
When I had opened my door at the hotel, the brass plaque had read "A child is
a gift divine." In high school, the inside of my locker door, #313, had a
select few "wise sayings" of encouragement that meant everything to me taped
there. When I opened my locker, I read those every morning, and they guided
me, lifted me, and healed me when needed.  
  
I knew then I needed to be with my child, my gift, tonight.  
  
I had called Gail and told her there was a change in plans: drag Vance along
and enjoy the room for the night. In a mock whine she said, "I just had to
spend a weekend cooped up with him; you know I'm taking one for the team
here!"  
  
"Chocolates and champagne, and ... flowers," I had said.  
  
"A half hour, if I can pry sleepy out of his chair."  
  
"All Vance said was, "I hope they have that new sports package on the cable."  
  
I didn't tell Doug any of that. All I wanted him to think about was being with
me. Being with his mother, and being with MORE than his mother on this special
night.  
  
I looked up and offered him my mouth. He bend and softly kissed my waiting
lips. I trembled, surprised at my reaction.  
  
Our kisses became more prolonged and deeper, but always gentle and unhurried.
Without needing to express it, we both knew we had all night.  
  
"You look so beautiful, Mom."  
  
I didn't think Ned would mind if my lingerie was slightly "used" when he got
to see it for the first time. Particularly if he never learned his own son got
to peer at his mother's naked body through its gauzy haze first.  
  
"Let's go to my room," I said and guided him by the hand.  
  
"Dad's bed?" he said with wide-eyed excitement.  
  
"Yes, Dad's bed." I then realized this was an a territorial thing, a dominance
thing that touched some primal instinct in the male: to win possession of
something, to take it away and cry victory. "And ... Dad's woman," I added to
enhance the effect.  
  
Doug halted and pointed with his chin to his desk. I nodded.  
  
I pulled the spread, the blanket, and the top sheet back on our queen-size
bed.  
  
Doug had slipped out of his clothes before he embraced me again. He slid his
hands under the hem of my nightie and rubbed my back, then my buttocks. All
the while kissing me: my mouth, my closed eyes, my forehead, my chin ... my
neck.  
  
I mindlessly cooed and relaxed into his attention, moving my head from one
side to the other to offer him new spaces for his lips.  
  
I felt the bottom of my nightie rising and caught a glimpse of its vivid
scarlet hem as it passed my eyes. I raised my arms and allowed my son to strip
his mother completely naked.  
  
"Mom, you're so sexy. You make me so excited."  
  
I smiled. "I noticed." He was completely, utterly, indisputably ... erect.
"You're sexy too. There was something before that kept me from admitting it.
But, I see that clearly now. You make me excited too."  
  
I took his hand and guided it down my stomach, down between my legs. His
middle finger parted my thick intertwining pubic hair along my vaginal slit
and with one gentle push of his middle finger, slid deeply into me.  
  
My son, for the first time since his birth, had touched my vagina, my
profusely lubricating vagina.  
  
"Ohhh! You're so wet, Mom."  
  
"I have a feeling I'll need to be."  
  
"Don't worry, I'll go slow. This will be beautiful."  
  
"It will be beautiful," I echoed.  
  
He ran his hands over my naked curves. Sometimes his hands rubbed and
squeezed; other times his fingertips made only enough contact to let some
unconscious part of me know where there were.  
  
My hands trailed down his back and cupped his strong, muscular buttocks. I
squeezed hard and a thrill went through me, knowing this strong male was going
to enact an ancient ritual with me—with me, his female.  
  
Doug cupped and kneaded and rubbed my breasts. He gently pinched my nipples,
and just when I craved his mouth on them, without my asking, he devoured me,
sucking and licking until I was breathlessly wanting to be completely
possessed.  
  
I pulled him to the bed and we lay beside each other, kissing ... our hands
never still as we read each other's bodies with an ancestral mating Braille.  
  
My son's kisses trailed down my abdomen and soon his face was nestled in my
pubic hair. He turned his body so he was positioned over my closed thighs. At
his gentle insistence, I parted my legs and the lower half of his face
disappeared from my sight.  
  
I knew he was smelling his mother's charms, inhaling the aroma of her musk.
And, when I felt his tongue make contact with my open vagina, I knew he was
tasting my most intimate fluids.  
  
He licked only ... and softly, with no plan to bring me to completion in that
way. He hungrily lapped up what I offered him, and he teased more and more of
it out of my generous fountain.  
  
I pulled him up next to me and made a parallel journey down his torso. My hand
arrived long before my mouth and found that long, hard piece of him that had
fascinated me from the first time I had seen it launching Gail into the
stratosphere.  
  
At long last, my mouth caught up and I looked for a long moment at my son's
beautiful cock. My hand squeezed and a clear stream overflowed from the top of
it. My tongue extended and, with its tip, captured some of Doug's essence. I
brought it into my mouth and marveled at its sweetness as opposed to the
pungent nature of his ejaculation.  
  
I kissed the base of his penis and kissed it every inch or so on my mouth's
path upward. I looked at its head, kissed it, then opened my mouth and took in
my son's cock.  
  
"Ohhh, Mom!"  
  
I gently sucked, and as I did, I knew what we were doing orally to each other
wasn't sex. It was worship. We were acknowledging each others bodies, readying
them.  
  
Mine was the sacred entrance to the mystery of life. My son's was the key to
reach and unlock that mystery.  
  
Doug pulled me up. "Mom. Mom, it's time."  
  
He was right. The time had come. But it hadn't come before I fully realized
the importance and gravity of what was going to happen.  
  
A man and a woman have sex: sometimes for pleasure and sometimes to created a
life; they remain together—or they don't. A mother and her son have a special
bond and relationship that lasts a lifetime.  
  
But, I had only realized that very day that there was a "secret" knowledge
that a very few could learn. That knowledge was guarded by condemnation,
taboo, ignorance, custom, and false shame. Even when realized, it had to be
shrouded in secrecy, because unless one had been initiated and one was ready
for that initiation, that knowledge was too potent to survive.  
  
I knew now that the highest of highs, the most sacred function of human
beings, the one thing that culminated with the strongest bond of love was:  
  
For a son to impregnate his mother.  
  
This was truly a gift divine.  
  
That baby—a miracle: generations compressed, expanded. A child and a
grandchild in one—generations compressed. A child, and yet a brother or sister
also—generations expanded. Same child! A miracle!  
  
Doug guided me to lie on my back. He kissed my face and asked, "Ready, Mom?"  
  
"Ready, my love."  
  
My legs were parted, the temple awaiting for the ceremony to begin.  
  
He positioned himself and I felt a nudging presence: his penis had made
contact with my vagina for the first time.  
  
Mother and son—man and woman—about to mate. But, also a boy about to revisit
the place of his birth, going back to the very center of his identity, of his
creation. Where, cell-by-cell, he had been formed from the very body of his
mother. Being formed for the purpose of mating with her in the future.  
  
He would reenact the ritual that bred him, but usurp that procreative power
from his own father and take his sire's place to breed a new being in that
fertile womb, that holy crucible between his mother's legs.  
  
He pushed forward and my vaginal opening expanded, stretching as the tapered
head threaded its way into the holy depths.  
  
"Unngh! I grunted, feeling a slight stab of pain. My neglected feminine
equipment would have to remember its function. I was determined that was worth
any sacrifice.  
  
Doug pulled back and eased in again, this time farther, and to my surprise
with less adverse results. I was expanding!  
  
"Mmmm! Mom ..." Doug whispered.  
  
Out, and this time Doug stole all the way to the hilt of his incredible
thickness.  
  
"So ... full ... my baby ... so deep," I whispered back.  
  
Mother and son fully knotted together and ready to dance to the music of
propagation—and lust!  
  
Doug kissed me and I thrust my tongue deep into his willing and hungry mouth.
I was penetrating him orally as he penetrated me vaginally.  
  
Doug began slowly: withdrawing, poising, invading. Those three steps he
repeated over and over, making me sigh and pant, forcing me to beg him for
more and more of himself as the pace increased.  
  
"Mom, I love you!" he growled, hoarse from the effort and the shock of having
sex with his mother.  
  
My vagina felt like it was being lengthened and widened—embellished in a
delightfully tormenting way. I never imagined there could be a feeling like
this.  
  
Doug's hips pounded down, and my hips found their own language to communicate,
and met each increasingly cruel thrust. That cruelty translated into the most
intense pleasure of my life.  
  
My hands pulled Doug's buttocks with all their strength, trying to force just
another inch, just another millimeter of his great length into his greedy
mother.  
  
That penis that I had seen in the videos. That penis he had shown me that day.
It was now mine, and I meant to own it all.  
  
My pubic hair was a swamp of our combined sweat and sex juices. He ground the
coarseness of his own onto my clitoris, bringing sighs, moans. pleas, and
yelps in increasing volume.  
  
My feet, which had been flat on the bed began to levitate, some ancient
genetic trait kicking in to tilt my womb to get the fullest penetration and to
position it to be filled to the fullest.  
  
My feet found each other on my son's butt and locked tight by the ankles.  
  
Doug yelled out: "NOW! MOM! MOM! I ... AAAHHH! AAHHH!"  
  
And I knew he was spilling all that steaming sperm and semen in powerful and
potent torrents deep inside of his mother.  
  
Just that would have been enough. Enough of a reward: to be filled with my
son's seed and also to know I had given him the height of sexual pleasure,
that would have been more than I deserved.  
  
But, I was granted an additional blessing.  
  
My own sexual madness had not yet reached its peak, but I felt its oncoming.  
  
I yelled: "DON'T STOP! DON'T STOP! PLEASE! A LITTLE ... A LITTLE MO—"  
  
And then it happened. Whatever defensive dam I had built over the years to
hold in and hold back every carnal or erotic thought crumbled and burst in one
terrific onslaught:  
  
"DOUG! I'M CUMMING! OH GOD! SO GOOD! I'M CUMMING! CUM—AGGHHH!"  
  
My hips sped up until they were more vibrating than humping.  
  
Doug didn't stop until I collapsed and was still. Then he still continued to
slide his still-hard dick slowly in and out of my overheated channel.  
  
He kissed me, on the mouth, and then tenderly tracing the path of the tears
flowing freely from the corners of my eyes.  
  
"Doug," I mumbled. It felt like my tongue was too big for my mouth or I didn't
have control over it or it was just too tired to talk with.  
  
"Mom, we did it. We did it!" He sounded tired too, spent with a good
exhaustion.  
  
"We did it. We sure did!"  
  
My son and I had "made love." That part was to fill me with his seed. But he
had also "fucked" his mother. That part was to make her cum—cum so hard she
cried.  
  
We both passed out for a while. I awoke, looked at the dresser and smiled.
Then I crawled down while looking at my son's unconscious face. His penis was
also unconscious, but it didn't stay that way for long after I took its whole
deflated length into my mouth.  
  
It immediately began to expand—lengthen and thicken to its "battle" readiness.  
  
"Oh ... Mom, that feels so good. Do you want me to cum in your mouth?"  
  
"You mean cum in my mouth again!" I laughed.  
  
"Yeah, again!"  
  
"No," I said. "How about this instead?"  
  
I rolled and faced the foot of the bed, facing the dresser. Then I got up on
my hands and knees, giving my son the unspoken universal signal for "doggie
style."  
  
"You mean ...?"  
  
"Unless you're too tired," I said while looking back at him over my shoulder.  
  
"Mom, I've always wanted to."  
  
"You never have?" I questioned. I just realized I didn't really know much
about my son's sexual activities or history. I had thought that was private,
or maybe I had been too embarrassed to think about it.  
  
"No ... ah ... you?"  
  
Now he was questioning MY sexual activities. That WOULD have been embarrassing
a few weeks earlier. Now I answered honestly. "Just a few times. Your father
isn't very adventurous." As if another position was an adventure. I guess for
him, it was.  
  
"So this will be kinda new for both of us. I like that," he said. "I told you
on that video that this drives me crazy, so I can't wait."  
  
"So ... don't."  
  
Doug took the hint and scurried up close to my upturned ass. The tip of his
cock got there before he did; it explored the sopping-wet, sperm-soaked
entrance of my vagina before sliding easily into me. He didn't stop until he
hit bottom—my bottom!  
  
"Aaaaaahhh, Mom! This is sooo different. This feels so hot and wet. Totally
different from me being on top."  
  
It did feel different. The angle of his cock made me reposition myself to
better sheath him when he thrust forward. I was going to like this. I could
tell.  

"One thing before we start," he said. "Let's angle to the left and go across
the bed so the camera gets us from the side. I think that'll be a hotter
take."  
  
When we had been in Doug's room to start, before we left for my bedroom, he
had indicated his camera on his desk, asking for permission wordlessly. I had
given it ... again wordlessly.  
  
Doug had recorded our entire lovemaking session. Now he was directing his
mother in the next scene: him driving his mom crazy from behind.  
  
"Perfect!" he said when we made the move. "Now we'll be able to see those
yummy tits of yours as they swing underneath you. I haven't sucked those
enough tonight—yet!  
  
We were both feeling like the pressure was off. There was something monumental
in the feel of our first lovemaking. Now there was a playfulness that we could
both enjoy.  
  
Maybe the one sperm destined to impregnate me had already been deposited, and
we somehow knew it. Or was that a crazy thing to think of?  
  
Doug took hold of my hips and pulled me back onto him. The feeling was
amazing.  
  
"Mom, I see your asshole."  
  
I didn't know how to respond to that other than to think not many mothers get
to hear their son's say it. At least not say it with the enthusiasm and
implied desire my son just did.  
  
"Do you think you can make me cum again?" I asked. I had asked it as a serious
question, not knowing my own abilities, deficiencies, or limits sexually.  
  
Doug took it as a challenge and speeded up. He became rougher and more
pronounced in his exertions. Either this position brought out the primitive in
him, or he wasn't afraid of breaking his "delicate" mother any more.  
  
The only thing he broke were any lingering inhibitions I had. In minutes, we
were rutting like animals, and he had me screaming enough to vibrate glass:  
  
"YEESS! SO GOOD! SOOO DEEP! DOUG! THAT'S A GOOD BOY! JUST LIKE THAT!  
  
Then I would have to catch my breath, but I never slowed down. Doug reached
beneath me and cupped my dangling tits. He fondled and squeezed them, sending
new waves of pleasure through me.  
  
"I'm fucking you, Mom. Just like I always wanted!" Doug panted.  
  
I rocked my body backward to increase the collision of each of his thrusts.
That sent me into the land between waking, rational thought and false
perceptions brought about by overstimulation. I suddenly felt free of my
physical body and in a world of colors and intense pressure in my pussy. That
pressure released, and I yelled:  
  
"I'M CUMMING! OH MY GOD ... GOD! MOMMY'S CUMMING!  
  
My arms no longer had any strength. I felt my face come to a landing on the
bed and my breasts squashed flat against the sheet.  
  
Apparently, Doug wasn't quite through with my "business end." He had me up on
my knees still, supporting me and drilling deep and fast. He finally let out a
"MOM! CUMMING INSIDE YOU!"  
  
I dozed and my last thought was I would have to watch the recording to be sure
of what had actually happened and what had been my imagination.  
  
********************************  
  
The video showed a couple on a couch. (The sound was muted.) The woman was
riding the male and he was lifting his hips to drive into her. He sucked on
her tits as she was obviously having an intense orgasm.  
  
"I think you came harder than I did," Gail said.  
  
"Kind of a difficult thing to measure," I said. It had been me on top of Doug.
At my suggestion, we had reenacted his and Gail's encounter. Maybe I had
retained a tinge of jealousy about that. It was totally gone now.  
  
It was a month after Doug's and my night of passion. We had a houseful of
guests for Doug's graduation party, but Gail insisted on previewing the only
video she hadn't seen.  
  
"Still doesn't beat that doggie position. I can only imagine ..."  
  
"You know, Gail, I talked it over with Doug ... about you wanting to try that
once, and ..."  
  
"And?"  
  
"He would wear a condom. But that's for another day. They must be missing us
by now.  
  
"They" were the group of happy family and friends. We had cousins and uncles
and Gail's twins, Matt and Pat, who themselves had graduated a few weeks
before.  
  
Ned stood in the middle of the room, banging a glass with a fork.  
  
"Announcements! Announcements! Can I have your attention? Or since I know you
all so well—SHUT UP!"  
  
Everybody laughed.  
  
Ned began, "You know why we're gathered here today. And—if you don't—will you
please leave quietly!" More laughter. "I want to say that I'm very proud of my
son. To see him graduate and to be going on to college gives me and his mom a
great sense of pride. And in addition, while I've had extra duties for the
past month, he's filled in for me in more ways than I can imagine.
Congratulations, Doug!"  
  
Everyone cheered and toasted.  
  
Now it was my turn. "And I have an announcement too. Ned's been working extra
hard because ... drum roll ... he's been promoted to South Central District
Manager! Let's all hear it for him!"  
  
Big round of sincere applause.  
  
Now, a surprise: Doug took center stage beside me. "And last but not least—my
Mom's going to have a baby!" he kissed me on the cheek.  
  
A big gasp from the crowd. "Ooohs" and "Ahhs" for something so unexpected.  
  
When Ned got home after his trip to Chicago, I used the black nightie to
temporarily wake his little soldier and convince him that he actually did
ejaculate (he didn't) while trying his best. Of course he wasn't the father;
Doug was.  
  
I had found out the week before and had told Doug first. We hadn't planned on
announcing it, and my red face showed that this surprised me too. I guess Doug
wanted to take some sort of possession of me in front of the family, even if
it was covert.  
  
I made my way to Gail and said, "That one little soul now has a home."  
  
She made a face, and I said, "Now what?"  
  
"Well I was just thinking, yanno, after the clinic—what if it had been a
second set of twins?"




End file.

