At 4.30am I step out of my city apartment and into my low dark car, fire it up, and roll off into the fog and out of sight. At this time of the morning the city is a brooding sullen thing - its black towers loom over me, its shopfronts are bleak and lifeless and its parks are desolate. The city seems to be on fire in the murk, as if the fog were a smoke rising from the slick wet streets and the rainwater drains. It's a smoke which curls sullenly around the skyscrapers and pervades the parks, turning the trees into ghostly silhouettes under the gloomy street lights. By 5.30am I am clear of the city and the fog and am racing along the coastal road with the thin golden line of daybreak exploding on the horizon to my right. The dawn spreads its warm coral touch across a dark plum sea -- I can see the early morning light appearing upon the churning surface of the water as I drive around the coastline.
I am driving north and am expecting to be on the road for five hours or more. I will keep close to the coastline most of the way, passing through small seaside villages, clinging precariously to the steep undulating hillside to my left. Those places are rather wonderful to visit as they feature the most stunning sort of scenery and all sorts of unusual cottages industries, but I am really keen to just drive and get to my destination as soon as I can, so no stopping today. The second part of my journey will take place after following the northern coastal road for about four hours. I will take the turn off to my left and leave the thundering glittering sea behind me and take to the long winding road west and travel on it for just over an hour. Then at the end I will be home.
I am not sleeping very well at the moment and am hoping this trip will help me. I seem to be constantly falling into shadowy dreams, some of which make no sense to me or else cause me to wake with a start, my bedsheets soaked with perspiration and my heart pounding in my chest. Other times I am haunted by images from my past which force their way into my mind and demand my attention. I'm not completely sure why these dreams and images are present, but I'm hoping this trip home can provide me with some answers. All my dreams and images concern my mother.
Sometimes I see an image of my mother in her bedroom with the windows open and the lace curtains rolling and unfurling in the early afternoon breeze. The sunlight is streaming in and she is standing in her room, dressed in her translucent sundress and she is smiling at me invitingly and yet somehow enigmatically, as if she had something important to impart to me. I can see her soft brown hair about her shoulders and her dark eyes -- she looks ephemeral, captured by that light -- she looks like she could dissolve before my eyes and slip away formless, her essence dissipating in the humid air. I can see the shape of her beautiful body through her dress, the curve of her large breasts and her broad hips, her abdomen and her thick limbs. It's the strangest sort of image to hold as if it were a sort of symbol or sign I cannot quite decipher.
Then at other times I awake from dreams which stun me and leave me confused and angry. I have never been this jealous when it came to my mother, but I am now.
I dream of my mother walking down to the waterline by the lake behind our home in the reserve. It is late at night and the whole lake and surrounding fields are caught in a silvery glow of moonlight. It seems as if a dark violet wash were applied to the skyline by hand, a rich color only punctuated by the moon and an almost infinite constellation of sparkling points -- a vast sweep of stars across that strange sky. In my dreams I imagine the moon is an enormous shining orb dominating the horizon and its face is upon the water of the lake. I am somehow always expecting something dark to come crawling and creeping out of the water -- it never does, but I cannot quite shake the feeling that something will.
My mother stops at the waterline and takes off her clothes, carefully placing each item in a neat pile at her feet. She then stands there looking out across the lake, which seems at first endlessly wide, the far bank nowhere in sight. But then a moment later the far bank forms itself out of the darkness and I can see that my mother is watching a blinding yellow glow in the distance, on the other side of the lake. There are people there, a horde of young men, who seem to dance and cavort like black shadows against the blazing yellow firelight. My mother can see them and I sense that she wants to join them -- she is naked and she wants to join them on the other side of the lake. I'm not sure why I have this dream disturbing my sleep or why it alarms and angers me so much.
The surface of the lake is like glass as if it were solid, a shining flawless darkness. Owls with large bright eyes look down at my mother and the lake from tree tops, large silent lizards lie on their bellies and look out from the edge of the tall grass and study the situation endlessly and I just stare at all of it unnoticed. My mother descends into the water naked. The water ripples slowly outwards as she sweeps forward and disappears from sight, her body plunging beneath the surface of the lake. A moment later her head emerges and she begins to swim towards the far shore where the young males are.
She steps out of the water on the other side of the lake unnoticed by the males above. I am afraid for her as she makes her way along a narrow path of sand which winds from the waterline to the campsite above. She looks so beautiful as she carefully picks her way, as if she were a silvery ghost with slick streaming hair, the water running and beading on her skin. My mother actually steps into the middle of the young male's campsite and a dozen sets of predatory eyes slowly turn in her direction and the roar of voices and movement comes to a halt. She breathes hard, allowing herself to be captured -- the hungry young men will fuck her all night. And that seems to be what she wants. I wake up from this dream disorientated with my heart pounding. I don't know why I dream this - it is something I am hoping to figure out.
I decide to stop once before the turnoff towards home. I park in a spot above the thundering sea, get out of my car and stand and look towards the horizon. Sea birds wheel about above me and squawk aggressively. Below me I can see the ocean come crashing in and blast against the dark rocks, sending white spray high into the air. Old fishermen stand about, throwing lines in and dragging fish from the sea and noisy dogs scamper and leap into the ferocious water and float back and forth. I eat some lunch I brought along and then climb back into my car and drive on.
I think I possess a reasonable amount of self awareness. I mean I don't think I'm completely thick headed. Lately I have been engaging in philosophical speculation. I believe in perspectives, interpretation and relativism and I think looking at things that way may be useful when trying to figure out why I am dreaming about my mother in the way I am. I mean I'm not necessarily a highly moral person - I don't necessarily interpret everything as the moral majority believes I should. I don't demand that every person accept the meaning I attach to something and I don't punish people for their views, particularly if they're not really hurting anyone. Does this make sense?
I don't know what's happening to me? I think I am falling in love with my mother.
I have reached the turnoff and I make the turn and am now driving fast down a narrow and poorly maintained road with lines of overhanging trees and tangled shrubs on either side. It is almost as if I were flying through a winding organic tunnel, as if I were being pulled inside, deep inside, being sucked along. This road is like a sort of green vein which draws me in towards the heart.
I am sure the house I grew up in hasn't changed all that much during the time I have been away, and I am sure my mother hasn't changed that much either, but for a moment I can't quite shake the feeling that my mother can see me from miles away and that the house is entirely different. I think my mother can see me from a great distance and is causing my car to be dragged towards her through her magic. It is the strangest sensation and completely irrational I know. But then there are more irrational elements present in this unusual trip: why is it that I have packed a car boot full of suitcases as if I were travelling overseas for six months, when I am only visiting my mother for the weekend and why is the back seat filled with boxes of my stuff? Why have I paid up all my rent and the bills as if I were preparing myself to move out of my apartment?
The hour I drive the narrow winding road ends too soon - I slowly turn off the road and the car loses traction for a moment in the soggy mud, then it catches and I begin to slowly make my way down the leave strewn lane towards the house, past the dilapidated fence line and through the slowly crumbling gate. The house emerges from behind the surrounding trees as if it was a shy thing -- I am finally home.
I don't know why my heart is pounding and my penis is quickly growing in my pants. I bring the car to a stop in front of the house and shut it down and I am enveloped in complete quiet. As a kid this profound quiet never bothered me, but it seems to scream at me now, after a few years of living in the city with all its rage and noise. I am looking up at the worn porch, at the front door and then I get out of the car.
Lush dark woods have encroached upon the property line as if the surrounding trees were engaged in some form of tactical warfare and were slowly advancing, readying themselves to devour the entire dwelling, my mother with it. The house needs a coat of color - the bare wood is showing in parts and the faded white paint is cracking. The stone walls are intact, but are blackened and moss covered from the warm streaming water which appears with the twilight rain and is then slowly boiled in the languid daytime heat. I can see the porch is starting to slump and the roof tiles look worn, pale and stressed. My mother just can't keep up with all the repairs needed, and I of course am ready to be all gallant and just step in and save the day, save the house and save my mother. Am I looking for an excuse to throw in my job, my city apartment and move back home?
I can understand the not keeping up part. This house is located in a steamy perspiring place -- trying to get something done here is difficult as the whole environment seems to resent and resist anyone making any sort of effort -- all you really seem to be able to do here is lie down or wander slowly about or take your clothes off and swim in the lake. The leaves on the trees are limp in the quiet tropical heat, the bright flowers hang lifelessly and the predators hide in waiting, expending the least amount of effort possible. And I stand there looking at my mother's house, the sweat popping from my skin, my penis obviously and uncomfortably erect.
This place is perfect for fucking. It rarely gets cold here and the breezes fill the open house with heat and the rich earthy scent of flowers and dark soil. There is not much to do here as town is miles away and there are few neighbors about and my mother refuses to keep a television or a computer. One can take long walks here or swim for sure; one can read or sleep, but these activities become rather tame after a while. What one can do though is have plenty of sex -- it is the one type of effort that the environment doesn't seem to resent. My mother and I both love sex -- it's just one of those collective passions, passed on through the genes, which you share with your parents. When I was younger I used to love listening to my mother have sex with her boyfriends. My father had died a few years before and I was over 18 so I didn't feel uncomfortable about listening in. I myself had my own girlfriends anyway, whom I was enjoying in the back seat of my car in the most secluded parts of the marshlands.
Strange how my thoughts turn back towards my mother and sex -- anyway I remember it all fondly. She was in the prime of her life -- a truly beautiful woman with dark curly brown hair, dark brown eyes and a curvaceous dark brown body, a great attractive smile and a soft deep meandering voice. She attracted men to her easily and she always had a new boyfriend or two -- I got to meet them all. There were always plenty of smiling faces and a lot of knowing laughter around my place.
I could never forget the sounds coming from the bedroom next door to mine -- my mother really knew how to make all her boyfriends happy. I can remember the soft encouraging sound of her voice and the regular creak of her bed late at night or early in the morning as the sunlight crept in under my blinds. I can remember the sounds of whimpering young males as my mother worshipped and dominated their trembling bodies in the most selfless sort of way, or listened in as she took much older men into her bed and grew all submissive beneath them. Unfortunately, I never had a chance to watch my mother have sex, so maybe I'm guessing a bit when it comes to what she really did or didn't do. She never would have allowed me to watch, but she knew I was listening in though and didn't mind that. I liked to tease her sometimes.
"You sounded like you had a fun night, last night," I would say with a smile.
"Oh, you get out of here and you just block your ears at night," she would retort smiling, "now out of my kitchen."
"Oh mom it sounded crazy."
"Out of here now boy and don't you go telling anyone what you heard!"
That bedroom became a sort of sacred place. My own meager sex life in the back seat of my car couldn't compete with the pleasure taking place behind closed doors in that big creaky bed most nights. There were the sounds of men reaching orgasm and their booming voices filled my ears and there were the sounds of my mother as she climaxed -- it was the only time I ever heard my mother sound urgent and intense. I will never forget her voice as she came: it was thick, deep and demanding.
My mother has opened the door, descended the stairs and is coming towards me. I suddenly realize why I have just dropped everything and have made this trip; I understand why I am dreaming of my mother constantly -- I realize I really am in love with her as soon as I see her. She is walking towards me with open arms and a smile on her face. I wonder whether I should kiss her on the lips or not. I enter her warm embrace and put my arms around her, closing my eyes while she presses up against me - I kiss her hair and her cheek softly. My mother's mouth is there to be kissed for a moment, if I want to -- surely she wouldn't mind. I am ready to do it, but my mother pulls away from me with soft laughter, slipping from our hug, her eyes dropping to my bulging crotch for a split second.
"Welcome home baby, let's get you inside."
"I brought a lot of luggage this time mom. I hope there's room for it"
"You sure did baby; sure is large, but I have enough room inside. You should know that."
I smile at my mother and pick up my luggage and together we go inside. The house looks smaller than I imagined -- it is all narrow corridors and nooks and crannies. I enter my old bedroom and am astounded by the size. I drop my luggage on the floor and look down at the old narrow wooden bed I used to sleep in -- it is as worn as everything else in this bedroom. The free standing wardrobe and set of drawers are chipped and my old study desk is faded and scratched.
"Wow, it's so narrow mom; I hope I can sleep in it tonight."
"Yeah, you're a man now honey, so it will be a bit small for you."
"I'm just wondering if there's somewhere else I can sleep tonight?"
"Hmmm, let me think about it baby, we may be able to come up with something," my mother says with a smile. "We'll leave your stuff in here for the time being; now c'mon I'm ready for some coffee."
We desert my old bedroom and walk past my mother's bedroom and turn and then enter the kitchen. I sit down at the dinner table and watch her as she moves about, filling the kettle with water and reaching for cups. She is gorgeous looking woman.
"Are you ready for some coffee honey? Are you hungry? What do you want to eat?"
"Just coffee mom, I'll get hungry later on I'm sure, then I'll eat whatever you give me."
"You just better watch yourself honey or I might just eat you up," my mother exclaims happily as she spoons coffee and sugar into our cups and produces the milk and gives it a shake.
"So have you got a new boyfriend?"
"Oh baby, don't talk to me about that," she says laughing, "men are no good for me -- I am swearing off them."
"Really?"
"Well maybe I have one or two, but I am giving them up," she admits.
"I knew it," I say with a smile, feeling jealous.
"But they don't come around as much anymore -- while you're here I won't..."
"Yeah mom, I'm here now," I say gently, but firmly.
"Yeah, you sure are."
My mother brings the cups of coffee to the table and sits down. She purses her lips while cradling her cup in her hands and gently blows.
"It's going to be another hot one today baby."
"Yeah, it already is -- I'm feeling a bit hot now."
"All hot and bothered are you? It's a big drive."
"Yes, we should go swimming mom."
"Yeah, if you want," she says.
We sit there drinking our coffee and exchanging small talk about my life. My mother insists on knowing everything about me -- she thinks my job is too hard and busy, that my apartment is no good because it's in the heartless city and she looks annoyed when I tell her about my occasional girlfriends. I assure her I'm not seeing anyone at the moment though and smiles again. She then tells me about her life. I still want to kiss her.
The wet heat billows and everything cooks as the day continues. The house creaks, as its composition seems to change from the effect of the sun clobbering the roof and walls. Outside the door the grass looks limp and wet and even the trees seem to droop.
"Baby, I don't know how you'll sleep in there tonight," my mother says "I only have one fan and that old air conditioner doesn't work anymore. It'll be like a sauna in here."
"Mom, maybe I should sleep with you tonight?"
I can't quite believe I just asked that and normally I would expect my mother to laugh the idea off and just say no.
"Yes okay honey," she says solemnly, "let's move your stuff into my room then. Your wardrobe is far too small for everything anyway."
We get all studious so we can get past our awkwardness. My mother directs the operation, helping me to unpack all my clothing, lay it out on the big bed and then put it away carefully in the closet. She gives me drawer space for my t-shirts, socks and underwear. I keep looking at my mother's bed -- I can't wait to slip between those sheets and take her in my arms.
We decide to go swimming in the late afternoon before dinner. We walk side by side though the dark foliage, across the rich pungent earth, hand in hand and saying little. The sky is growing darker as banks of rain clouds roll slowly into place above us and the tropical oven grows even more silent, mysterious and humid. The perspiration runs down my mother's body -- it beads on her face and trickles between her large breasts; it shines on her belly and thighs. I'm sure my mother can see how much I want her; surely she can see the clear outline of my penis through my swimmers.
"C'mon baby, we're almost there," she says smiling, squeezing my hand.
We have left our own property far behind and am in the reserve. I take her hand and lead her through the tall grass as the track gets more narrow and sandy. A moment later we break through the foliage and leave the vegetation behind us, wander down over the piles of bleached shells with a crunch, step onto the hot white sand, with the lake before us. We drop our towels and walk into the cool water, sinking down and sighing with relief.
"This was a good idea honey; I really need this so much," she says softly, "I'm so hot."
"Yeah me too mom, me too."
I splash about for a moment and then look across at the far bank opposite, remembering my strange dream. The bank is empty of people and the distant sand dazzles my eyes.
"Mom, have you ever tried to swim from this side to the other side of the lake?"
"No, how about you baby?"
"No mom, I always thought it was too far."
"You probably could swim it now honey. You're old enough and big enough to do it now, I'm sure."
I shake my head to clear it. I am imagining my mother leaving the dark lake again after her dreamy swim to the other side. I then see her in the arms of all those young men as they pass her around. I see young men pulling off their clothing, laying out a blanket. She is being kissed and there are hands all over her body. She is gasping.
"Honey?"
"Oh I'm sorry mom, what did you say?"
"Are you okay baby," she asks approaching me and then reaching out and stroking the side of my face with her hand.
"Yeah, I'm okay -- sorry, you're such a distraction when you're dressed in that bikini. I can't concentrate."
"You're a flirt, always have been, haven't you?"
"It takes one to know one mom."
My mother grins and points at the sky. The clouds have gathered low and ominous above our heads and the lake looks suddenly gloomy. A moment later a deep rumble runs from one end of the sky to the other as if a God had picked up a handful of enormous stones and thrown them powerfully and they had rolled across the darkening heavens.
"I think it's going to pour honey. We better go. We can come back tomorrow."
I nod and we desert the water just as the first drops hit the earth, seemingly to sizzle and dissipate into steam on the hot surface. We pick up our towels and I grab my mother's hand and we run back into the tree-line as the clouds open up and the rain pelts down. We are both laughing and our breath is short, our hearts racing as we run to avoid the warm rain and end up getting drenched in the downpour anyway. I stop and turn to my mother who is still laughing, her eyes lively, and her breath caressing my wet face. Her dark curls are soaked and limp. We are standing there under a tree looking for cover, the rain still hard around us. Then there is more thunder and the flash of lightning behind us as we try and get some sort of shelter under that dripping tree.
We have taken each other in our arms as if it were the most natural thing to do. We look about us, not quite ready to take the next step yet, though it will come - it has to come because I can't take much more of this and I don't think my mother can either. Photos http://cpmlink.net/4C0PAA The damp earth is now like a soft rich black sludge and streams of water run along the ground down to the lake below us. The whole world is just saturated, soaked with water. I look at my mother and she looks up at me -- it is a frank look of excitement and need.
"You're hair's soaked mom," I say laughing, while I run my hand over her hair.
"You too baby," she says smiling, stroking my cheek.
"Well yes that's right."
"Yeah baby, real wet."
We are getting closer and closer -- we are grinning and gazing at each other.
"You look so cute mom," I say urgently, "so cute."
"No, you do baby."
I lean in without hesitation and my lips meet my mother's lips with the rain falling all around us and the thunder exploding in the distance.
"Mmmm, oh mmmm ohhh mmmm, mmmm." we murmur, parroting each other.
The two of us are standing there kissing deeply and passionately, our bodies pressed together. My mother cradles my face in her hands, her fingers stroking my ears as she presses her tongue into my open mouth. For a moment I think I'm just going to lose it, just lose control and cum in my swimmers, but I don't. I love the muffled sounds of satisfaction which my mother and I make as we kiss -- she does want me as much as I want her and she had been wanting me for a long time, as I learnt later. We are running our hands over each other and I am starting to undo my mother's bikini top and push my hand inside her bottoms.
"No baby, not here. Let's go home first," she hisses, grabbing my hand and pulling me along.
My mother and I are inside the house and the front door is closed and locked. The rain sounds like a cold harsh hiss as it hits the roof of the house and patters softly against the windows. There is another crash of thunder and yet another. I have peeled my swimmers off and shown my mother my big thick cock as she slowly backs away from me, her eyes running up and down my body, her expression strangely serious. She steps again and again away from me, down the corridor which leads to her bedroom. Her dark body is still wet and her hair is dripping and stringy.
Into the bedroom she goes and I follow her in, stalking her like she is prey. My mother takes off her top and I see the tips of her breasts for the first time. She sees the expression on my face and peels off her wet bikini bottoms and tosses them aside -- my dick visibly twitches as if it had a mind of its own. I'm going to plunge deep inside this woman's body and that is a fact.
My mother lies back on the bed slowly and I advance on her, joining her, placing my hand on her hairy pussy as my lips meet hers, making her lie on her back. Our eyes are closed, but I know where her slippery vagina is -- I know where my mother's clitoris is and I know how to stroke it softly so as to get her to groan in my open mouth and shove her tongue in deeper. We kiss deeply and she is stroking my chest. I gasp as her hand runs up my thigh and comes to rest on my penis.
"Awww," I blurt out, breaking the kiss.
"Oh baby, you like that? You like it when I touch your dick, like that?"
"Oh yeah mom, I love it."
"Good baby," she says, wincing a moment after saying it, then her jaw drops. I have buried my lips in the nape of her neck and am caressing the tips of her breasts, and squeezing them.
I am kissing my mother's breasts and sucking on her nipples as if I were a hungry infant again. She is running her fingers through my damp hair, encouraging me to rebuild that special direct relationship I used to have with her body and which social convention and no doubt my cruel father took away from me. I am so close to my mother and I'm obsessed with the tactility, the sheer visceral quality of her wonderful dark body. I love the smell of her, particularly the strong perfume of her pussy and her wet hair. I love the way she breathes -- deep and hard one moment and then sharp and shallow the next moment when I really touch her right. I am rubbing her clitoris and stroking her labia with one hand and kissing her body endlessly.
"Let me get at you honey, I need you,"
"No mom, open your legs wider," I say determined to eat her pussy.
"Oh gawd baby, okay."
My mother spreads her legs and I gaze at her pussy like I really want to. I can see the dark ring of damp hair and the folds of her thick lips and the fluid trickling and glowing jewel like there. I drop my head and gently pry her open with my fingertips, marveling at her -- my mother's pussy looks like a ripe red fruit torn open. I drop my head further and run my flat tongue from bottom to top, making sure I flick her anus as I go. I lick her open pouting labia again and again. She sighs and places her hand under my chin and directs me to her clitoris. I don't need any convincing. I gently clamp my whole mouth over her clitoris and surrounding areas and softly suck and lick her there endlessly. I love the taste.
"Oh god baby, you're a hungry man, just like your daddy was. Oh wow."
I refuse to say anything, so she rubs my hair and her legs quiver gently and she sighs. I don't know what's got into me -- I am in the grip of a sort of fever.
"Oh mommy," I whisper urgently.
"C'mon honey, come here please."
I spring to my knees and my mother sits up and takes hold of me by the waist. She lies back on the bed again and I stretch out over her, placing my hands under her shoulders. She takes hold of my penis -- I am growing even harder and am so ready for this.
"I want to fuck you so badly mom," I whimper crudely.
"I know baby; c'mon baby," she says with her soft deep voice," you're all ready to go."
I bear down and feel the knob of my penis rub against the soft thick surface and then it bores slowly. My mother lets out a long groan directly into my ear and I try to relax. She clutches my upper body tight in her arms and her legs are around me, against my lower body adding purpose and direction to my entrance. I just impale my mother as deeply as I can -- I am inside her up to the balls and I'm trying not to just ejaculate madly on the spot. She feels so good -- so soft and slippery.
"Oh mom, oh my gawd."
"Easy honey," she says in my ear, stroking the back of my neck with one hand and running her other hand up and down my spine as if stimulating me even more will help me from coming inside her.
I get myself together and my mother is praising me. We are really loud and neither of us feels any need to be inhibited. That old bed is now creaking for me and I am so gratified to hear that sound as I thrust inside.
"Awww mom, that's good!"
"Yeah honey, you do it real nice like my boyfriends can."
"I'm your boyfriend now."
"Oh yes my darling, you're my new boyfriend!"
The rain outside has ceased and the thunder still rolls in the far distance and echoes softly. The bedroom is still steamy though and the bed is damp. My body shines with perspiration - it runs in the valley of my lower back and into the cleft of my moving buttocks. My mother actually licks the beads of sweat from my face with her hot tongue before I accept her inside my mouth again. I get so much pleasure from supporting my upper body weight upon my elbows so I can look down into my mother's dark eyes as I fuck her. Her nostrils flare and her thick lips are parted and she is smiling up at me.
"Awwww, awwww, awwww," we repeat together, looking at each other through half closed eyes.
My mother's large breasts loll up and down and her thick legs rock back and forth. She is a thick sexy woman with broad hips. My cock feels so snug and warm in there and each squelchy stroke teases the underside of my enflamed penis just that much more. She actually scratches my back when she reaches orgasm. I can't handle this anymore -- how am I supposed to hold on any longer? My mom is bursting forth and fluid is exploding around my plunging shaft. I look at her amazed, my jaw dropping.
"Awww babbyyyy, awwww!"
My face is buried in her hair and my shooting penis is straining and jumping forward and back as my hips drive in and shake back and forth and then drive in again. That wonderful warm fluid - filled pussy cops it -- I blast the semen in there five times and then wince and shake as the remainder is wrung from my overwrought body by my mother, bearing down on me as she trembles from her fading orgasm.
This sounds juvenile, I am sure, but my mother is a bottomless well of unconditional love and she will do whatever she can to please me. This is the sort of love I need.
I come awake with a start in the early hours of the morning, my heart racing. I am disoriented and in the dark. I regain some of my senses when I feel my mother stir in her sleep and turn over away from me. I suddenly remember where I am and who is lying next to me. I carefully get up and walk the long corridor from the bedroom to the back door. I open the back door carefully, not wishing to wake my mother. The sky is gray and a cool night breeze gently stirs, causing my skin to tingle and the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. I stand out the back, naked and stare into the ghostly looking tree-line and for some reason expect the trees to come alive or else some dark malevolent thing to come racing out at me.
I feel a soft body press into me from behind and two warm hands run down my belly and come to rest on my quickly thickening cock.
"Come back to bed baby; the mosquitoes will eat you alive."
My mother takes my hand and leads me back inside. I lie back on the bed and my penis is completely erect again. She can see how desperate I am, so she stretches out on top of me and gives me warm wet kisses while I sigh - I feel her open lips peppering my face and neck. She kisses my chest and my hard trembling abdominals and her hands run up and down my sides, over my face and into my mouth.
"I'm gonna make you so happy honey, you'll never be able to leave here."
"Yeah mom, that's what I want."
I shift my weight so she can comfortably lie on her belly while she sucks my cock - my legs are open and there is a thick pillow behind my head so I can see clearly. I'm really looking forward to this.
My mother kisses the tip of my penis softly while one warm hand cradles my balls and the other supports the base. A clear drop of fluid appears at the tip and my mother watches it for a moment. She smiles and then she sweeps it away with a flourish and then runs the tip of her tongue up and down the underside of my shaft, flicking and sliding her tongue along. I can feel her hot breath and it causes the skin on my balls to prickle.
"Oh mom, please suck it," I whisper.
"Not yet baby, I'm teasing you first."
And that is exactly what she does. I shouldn't be surprised -- this is what she does with all her boyfriends. So I am left to lie there and watch her through half closed eyes as she licks more pre-cum from my tip and gently tickles my balls and the shaft of my dick with her hands. My mother is laughing happily at me because I sigh each time she kisses or licks my dick and because she has gained her special brand of control over my sensitive body. My penis looks large and wooden in the foreground against her beautiful features and her silver coated hands. The blind is up and the window is open so the light shines and she looks like a dark skinned ghost as she teases me.
"Please mom."
"Mmmm okay baby, you're just trembling now and your dick looks like it's gonna break out of the skin. I'm gonna make you cum like crazy baby."
My mother places her lips on the tip again, and she clasps the base in her hand. This time however she sinks down and her head drops and I am inside her mouth finally. My mother sucks my penis with long lazy noisy strokes, her lips brushing me and her tongue sliding along and around. She pauses and pumps my dick with her hand a few times as she looks at me and grins.
"Nice baby, hey," she asks.
"Yeah mom, real nice."
She sucks me more vigorously, slurping and squeaking and causing me to moan softly and place my hand on her shoulder. She reacts to my signs of pleasure by increasing her speed -- her dark head is rising and falling swiftly. It feels so good to get head from my mother. My penis tingles deliciously with each fluid movement and the sensitive underside gets rubbed the right way each time her soft lips run over that spot.
"Awww mom," I whisper, as I watch her.
She takes that opportunity to stop sucking me. She mounts me, takes my penis in her hand, positions herself and drives down, dropping her weight and I feel the tip hit resistance and then I'm back inside her again. Up and down we go and we are primitive, making harsh noises and scratching each other. I end up sitting up, with her in my lap and I cum inside her again while she holds me tight. That's it I'm done, for now -- my mother has all my semen, like she wants. She pushes me back on the bed roughly and lies besides me, so I can fall asleep in her arms.
Have I made a mistake? It's quite normal for two people starting out on a relationship to have a lot of sex -- there is that mutual attraction and people just can't help themselves. I know all about it, having been there myself. The thing is my mother and I don't seem to be able to stop, to reach a point where we are entirely satisfied for long. We lie down on the cool sand by the side of the lake at night, ignore the mosquitoes and make love. I look down into her large dark eyes and cum inside her. We fuck in different parts of the house, breaking that old single bed of mine with the intensity we bring to our sex. We fuck in the marshlands. She sucks the semen from me as I whimper or I lick and rub her to orgasm.
I have to make a decision as I cannot really wait any longer. I believe I have two choices: I can extricate myself from this sweet sticky place and my sweet sticky mother and try to pick up where I left off with my career, my apartment and my occasional love life or I can allow myself to get drawn into this strange honey trap even further.
But there is in fact a third choice and it now exercises its prerogative - I am now out of time. I stand still and with rising horror watch as my surroundings begin to slowly fade from sight, the bright vivid colors losing their striking appearance, the fertile aroma of vegetation and soaking earth losing its unique character and becoming indistinct and then non-existent. I look at my mother and note she is still smiling at me and holding my hand, but she too is growing pale and then formless before my eyes as my environment just dissolves around me. I lose my mother's touch as she drifts away shapelessly in the breeze as if she were a fleeting white smoke. I am running aimlessly through the trees and shrubs as they grow white and intangible, no longer brushing against me but just fading and crumbling away. I reach the place where the lake should be but it has just disintegrated and has drifted away.
I wake with a start, my heart pounding in my chest. I stare at the ceiling in the dark. I am completely lost for a moment and then everything falls into place. My mother is lying in my arms and I lie in her arms in the dead of night. I breathe deep and hard and feel my penis stirring into life again. I don't think I could ever get away from my mother and her humid world.
