Cursed by Lust for her Son…

"At least point the gun away from me. If you want my cock to get big."

The Glock moved. Now it pointed at the floor, and her finger was off the trigger. But her grip on it had not slackened. Joe immediately felt less threatened, and wouldn't you know it, his cock started to respond. It grew in his sister's mouth until she could no longer take it and she withdrew. It stood up proud, inches in front of her face. She grasped it and caressed the end with her tongue.

"I've never seen your cock hard before. It's a big one. I want your cock inside me. Now."

"Karen...no."

But she waved the Glock at him and he shut up. She stood, hoisted up her crepe mini, and pulled down her black panties. She pulled them over her booties and threw them away with her free hand. He glimpsed her pussy before her skirt dropped back down.

"Get up and kneel at the end of the sofa."

He did so with some difficulty, his pants still around his ankles. His cock bobbed about and she stared at it with her mouth half open. She sat on the sofa and pulled herself to the other end, propping her back on the end rest. She dangled one leg off the sofa, foot on the floor, while the other she leaned over the back of the sofa. She was wide akimbo. She hitched up her skirt with one hand, flattening it over her belly and Joe saw his sister's moist, wet, inviting pussy framed by her splayed-out crepe tutu. Small runway. Everything else smooth and glistening. His cock was rock hard.

"Fuck me. Cum in me. The gun stays pointed at the floor as long as you do good."

Joe moved into position between her splayed legs, his mind a riot of emotions. Was he about to ruin his life? Fuck it. She had given him no choice. He wasn't going to be gentle.

"Are you fixed?"

"No," she said, her eyes devouring his cock, "fuck me hard and when you're about to cum, shove it up my ass."

He knelt low and guided his cock to the entrance of her pussy. Just before he guided it in, he looked at her, hoping for a late reprieve. He saw something burning in her eyes that seemed more like Alicia from the charm shop than his sister. He pushed and it went in so easily, all the way. His sister let out a moan and lifted her legs a little higher. He started to thrust, rough and deep. He abandoned himself to it. Now he was inside her, there was no going back. No point in stopping... She arched her spine, grabbing the back of the sofa to resist his thrusts. He dimly realized he could overpower her now she was in her heat, but he did not. He grasped her breasts and squeezed them hard through her blouse, then reached up to her shoulders, pulling her down onto him as tight as he could. The sofa was rocking. His violent thrusting provoked no complaint from her as she grunted with every movement. Soon he felt it coming. In a mix of lust and despair he withdrew and took a moment to aim his slick wet cock at her tiny asshole. He had never done the anal thing before.

"Shove it in," she ordered.

With a cry of anger he rammed forward and ripped his way into her, she cried out but it sounded more like a cry of joy than pain. He buried himself up to the hilt. She felt so tight. There, in the depths of her unemptied bowels, his cock throbbed and disgorged a river of cum. He felt himself spurting inside her again and again. He looked at her face, wondering if she could feel it. Her face contorted with orgasm as she returned his look.

"Good boy...," she whispered.

She dropped the gun on the floor, released her grip on him, and leaned back over the end rest, her eyes closing as her head lolled back. He lay on top of her for a while, still all the way up inside her, as he felt the last spasms of his cock diminish. Then he pulled slowly out, not as easy as he expected. Her colon was contracting. His cock came out with a gentle squish. He tried not to look at it. He pulled up his drawers and pants, reached down and picked up the Glock lying on the carpet and turned to go. He needed a shower so bad. He stopped. He had to check on her. She seemed to be asleep, breathing regularly. But mom was due back in two hours. He tried to rouse her but she pushed him away and went back to sleep. He picked up her panties from the other side of the room, and carefully lifted her in his arms. It was not difficult. He carried her up to her room and put her to bed. He hurried into the shower, then he went to bed himself to await the morning and the end of his family world.

*The Morning After*

He must have drifted off to sleep at dawn, after the worst night of his life (so far). He awoke. It was after nine. He could smell coffee and he heard distant voices. He got up to face the music. He crept down silently to the kitchen, keeping out of sight around the corner. He could hear them talking in those quiet whispery voices reserved for really embarrassing person stuff.

"It really hurts, Mom. I'm so sore."

"It's probably just haemorrhoids, sweetie. Go see the doctor if it doesn't clear up. Did you do anything unusual last night?"

"No. I went dancing with Bella at the club. I came home so tired I don't even remember going to bed."

Joe, afraid to hope, made his entrance. His mom turned and smiled at him. "Morning Joey."

His sister, still in her dressing gown, turned and looked at him with her usual contempt. "Morning dickhead," she said with not a hint in her voice of anything from last night.

Mom turned to chastise her daughter's rudeness, but Joe had never been so pleased to be called dickhead in his life. He drank coffee with his mom and sister, hardly able to conceal his emotions. Like he had been rescued from an execution. He laughed and laughed, and when their eyes told him that he was behaving strangely he excused himself to his room, and laughed even more then sobbed with relief, his head buried in his pillow. For two hours he lay there, thinking. When he heard the house was quiet he got up.

He realized now that the world was not what he thought it was. Not by a long chalk. He suspected that his mom knew more than him, knew something really important that he didn't. He didn't know exactly why. He decided to have a look in her bedroom. He had never snooped in his mom's bedroom before. He'd been in it plenty of times, but had not actually snooped. Mom seemed so sad and alone.

He pushed open the door. Nervous, he looked around. The lazy rays of October sun illuminated her bed. He sat down on it, looking at her bedside table. He knew she kept a journal. He opened her bedside cupboard and found a pile of thin black-bound journals, each with the year embossed, going back long before he was born. The sunbeams lit up the journals. He noticed that one, dated several years before he was born, seemed to be more scuffed and careworn than the others around it. He pulled it out and opened it, flicking through it. Some pages toward the back were dog-eared and grimy with use. He opened those pages and started to read.

The following day Joe returned home from a long walk, pacing the undulating brick sidewalks of West Chester, thinking about what he had read in his mother's journal. His moms situation. So much made sense now. Why she was so upset when he refused to accept her Catholic faith. Her violent reaction to any Halloween nonsense. He saw the passers-by on the streets in a new light. Even the WCU students. How many of them were already damned? Now he understood why his mother was overjoyed when he won a scholarship to Temple.

But where did that leave him? In deep shit, whichever way you cut it. He'd sold his soul -- a soul he never knew he had - for a love potion. A crappy potion that would have given him one night with Moira -- who would remember nothing in the morning. What an idiot he had been. But perhaps he could do something for his mom. Perhaps the Devil had given him the means to free her from the curse without the pain intended by the one who had cursed her. If he himself was up to it. If he had the strength. He realized he hadn't thought about Moira all day.

As he stepped up to his front door it opened and Father Antony came out. The Father's grim face transformed into a professionally friendly greeting the instant the priest saw Joe. A quick but heartfelt clasp of the hand and the man was gone, striding down the street to another appointment. Joe went in. His mom was sitting at the kitchen table.

"Hi mom. What was Father Anthony doing here?"

"Church business. Nothing for you to worry about."

He nodded, in a hurry to get on with his plan. First, he had to find the Glock and lock it away. Then he had to set up the potion trap. Fortunately his mom loved ice cream, but never bought any because she worried about her figure. He had spent a long time thinking about this. Instinct told him that she had to find it and eat of her own accord.

And so it was.

*Joe and his Mom*

On the chosen day Joe pushed open the front door and entered feeling as nervous as he had ever been. His sister was away for two days on a course, so he had taken the opportunity to drop a hint about some ice-cream that he didn't want. No-one was in the front room. He proceeded silently into the kitchen. No-one there either. He checked the freezer compartment where he had left the pot in front, in full view. The pot was gone! He scooted over to the kitchen waste bin and stepped on the lever. The lid lifted and there it was. Empty pot, remaining drips of melted potion oozing down into the rest of the trash. He heard a noise from upstairs.

"Joey, is that you?"

"Yes, Mom."

He had locked his Mom's Glock in the glove compartment of her car, so at least he didn't have that to worry about.

"Come up, I need a hand."

His heart beating fast, he climbed the stairs and found his mother in the bathroom. It was steamy. She was standing in the tub trying to screw back the big fancy shower head which she had been cleaning and now could not reattach. It had dripped a lot of warm water on her, and she was holding it to prevent a further deluge. She was dressed in a cotton top, no bra, and thin cotton pants, both soaking wet and plastered against her body.

"Can you help, Joey? I'm getting wet."

This wasn't quite the sex-manic nutcase that Joe had been expecting. In fact, she seemed quite normal.

"I need you to take over while I get the other screwdriver. Just take your shoes and jeans off and come hold this thing, will ya?"

He took off his shoes, his pants, and his shirt. He stepped into the bath wearing his T-shirt and boxers, and took the dripping shower head in his hands. She returned within minutes, screwed in the shower head while he held the attachment, and all was done. "Well, we're a wet pair for sure!" she said brightly as she dried her hair with one of the towels.

Joe gulped. Things were not going to plan. Maybe the potion didn't work so well on his Mom. Maybe he had to take the lead.

"Come on, I'll find you a dry shirt and pants," she said.

He followed her into her bedroom and sat on the bed while she rooted around in the clean laundry drawer. He had to act. It was warm in the bedroom as he watched his mom bend over sorting through clothes, her breasts dangling with nipples visible, her body in her wet cotton slacks plastered down over her petite ass. The sun flooded in through the blinds, shining thin gold bars on the bed in a room that seemed enchanted. Joe gave his cock a surreptitious squeeze. It was chubby and waiting, but not particularly hard. He pulled off his wet top and sat in his boxers on his mom's bed in the sunlight waiting for her to turn around. His cock and balls were every bit as visible through his wet clothes as her ass was. When she finally did turn around, brandishing dry t-shirt and boxers, he saw her gasp at the sight of him, his damp bare chest and flat stomach. Her eyes strayed downwards to his cock.

"Come sit next to me, mom." He patted the bed.She sat down next to him and he could see the iron will in her eyes. She looked straight ahead at the wall. She was shaking slightly, then she spoke.

"You need to put on your dry clothes and go back to your room."

He nodded. Before she could protest he pulled down his wet shorts and flung them into the corner. Now he was naked. His cock, half hard, was caught in a ray of sunlight as if by a spotlight. His mom stared at it.

"Oh, Joey. What are you doing?"

Joe took a deep breath. "I know about your curse, Mom. I know." He took her hand in his, and guided it onto his lap, a few inches from his cock.

"Mom, I have something important to say. I didn't intend it to be like this. I'd hoped...well, that doesn't matter. Seems we have two options. I'm not prepared to see you suffer. So either I leave. Permanently. Or we do this thing, get it over, and forget about it."

With that he put her hand on his cock. He could hear her breathing fast, and her hand barely moved, not grasping him. He turned to her, saw the tears on her face, and kissed her on the mouth. She responded, embracing him, the kiss becoming more real, and best of all he felt her hand squeeze his cock. Tentative at first, but as his tongue found hers, she moaned and started to finger his cock. She finished the kiss and backed off, still holding his cock. Joe was worried for a moment until he saw the look in her eyes.

Bottomless desire tinged with real fear.

Joe saw her look down at his cock, cradled in her hand. She squeezed it and her other hand crept around to grip it as well. She trembled as she stared at it and gave it little squeezes. He felt her tender touch explore his balls as she yielded to a lifetime of longing. She kneaded them gently and his cock got real hard. Joe knew he needed to help her. She had spent so many years resisting this moment. As she gazed at his cock and balls, gripped in her gentle embrace, he reached over and cupped her breast. The heat from her body had warmed the wet cotton and he felt her nipple stand out at his touch. With his other hand he clasped her waist. He unbuttoned her cotton top, and felt an unfamiliar pang of lust for his mom's breasts as they jiggled into view.

He gently pushed her back on the bed, and she reluctantly let go his cock. He unzipped her slacks and she helped peel them off, soon they lay in a wet heap on the floor. Her smooth legs lay in front of him, leading up to her delicious mound hidden by her silky blue boy-shorts. The boy-shorts were already damp from the shower, but he could see a darker wetness spreading down there. Her own. She draped her arm across her face, as if unwilling to see what he was about to do.

Joe's cock was responding the way he hoped it would. Cocks have no shame. He felt shame, but he was working on it. He knew he had to perform. He also felt something else, an erotic spirit, a presence, unfamiliar, growing within him.

His mom lay before him on the bed, her body naked except for her panties, her head and shoulders raised up a little on pillows, her arm still covering her face. Waiting for him to lead. He straddled her on his knees and slowly moved up, until he was kneeling with his ass over her breasts, his cock in front of her face. Sensing his presence she moved her arm away and stared at his angry cock with wide eyes. It was dripping precum. She reached for it and gripped it. Joe leaned forward gently and watched his mom's mouth open and accept the end of his cock. She engulfed it and he felt himself inside her hot mouth. She started to suck and bob a little, but he had her pinned against the pillows. A strange kind of lust came over him as he realized he had to be the mover. Gently he started to thrust inside his mom's mouth, as she closed her eyes and abandoned herself to whatever he wanted. Joe knew he had to be gentle, face-fucking was an art. But it almost seemed as if a second pair of eyes was inside him, watching, influencing him. Inflaming him to deeds he had never done before. Joe pushed his cock deep down inside his mom's throat, until he heard her gasp and gag, then he pulled out. She wiped her mouth with her hand, and looked up at him.

"Don't stop."

He plunged back in and started thrusting, occasionally pulling right out as she coughed and gagged. Then back in deep. She reached up and grasped his balls, gently squeezing. He could feel her teeth lightly rasping against his cock root with every thrust and then, pretty much without warning, the spasms began and he felt the cum shooting out into his moms mouth. He pulled out and two spurts hit her cheek and nose, but she pulled him back in again, sucking and swallowing. Eventually, when he was done he pulled out, anxiously watching. She wiped the cum off her face with the back of her hand, looking at him as she did so.

"Your cum tastes so good. You have no idea how long I have dreamed of your cock in my mouth."

Her look was not that of a satiated lover. Hunger still danced in her eyes.Joe himself did not feel like he normally did after he had cum. His cock was now only half-hard, sure. But the sight of his mother, topless, licking cum off her face after swallowing his load kept him fired him up. He knew they had not finished. Tired after straddling her and thrusting into her mouth, he unmounted and lay back on the bed next to her. She turned to him, her hand reaching down to feel his chubby slippery cock, still dribbling. She played with it for a while in silence.

"The Unholy Trinity, Joey. That's what I need to lift the curse. Nothing less. One down, two to go."

He lay there staring at the ceiling while she gently toyed with his cock, enjoying its slippery wetness. She moved down a little and nuzzled it with her cheek and nose, her tongue darting out to savor its taste.

"Mom, I'm not sure I can do it again. Not twice, anyway."

"I am. I want you inside me so bad. We must. Otherwise it's all been for nothing. Let me see... your father used to like this."

She reached out and slowly slid a finger up his ass, searching for his prostate. She found it. Joe's cock started to harden. She moved over onto him and straddled him, this time, rubbing his cock with both hands. She rubbed it against her pussy, backwards and forwards, around and around. Her pussy was sopping wet, he could feel her juices running down his cock, his thighs, and dripping onto the bed. She pushed him inside her a little way, then back out. He got harder. Every time she did it she lowered herself a little more, then back up and he popped out. He found it irresistible, and his cock became hard enough to fuck.

At last she must have judged him ready and with a groan of pleasure she squatted right down on him all the way and he felt himself spearing up inside his mom, as far as he could get. She leaned forward and started to move up and down on his cock, at first slow then faster. Joe looked up at his mom, her face a picture of ecstasy, moaning, eyes half closed. A river of juices was pouring out of her, soaking his belly and crotch.

"Shout out when you're going to cum, my darling son. I need some warning."

Now Joe was hard, it was going to take a while. He pulled his mom down to kiss him, and she did so, thrusting her tongue into his mouth for a precious moment. Once again he had a strange feeling that he was sharing this experience with someone else, someone inside his head. Back upright, she wriggled and thrust and rocked, faster and faster. The sight of her riding him was having its effect, as well as the feel of her inside, and he felt the slow burn as his cock started its countdown.

"I'm cumming, Mom," he groaned as he felt the first salvo of sperm traveling up into her.

She laughed, and after he felt the first spurts inside her wet pussy make it even wetter, she rose up a little, pulled out his spurting cock, leaned back, and shoved it right up her ass. Joe felt his sloppy cum erupt, easing the passage, as he buried himself inside his mom's ass just as he had his sister's a few days ago.. He thrust up inside her as far as he could, again and again, feeling her tightness, feeling his cock respond to the forbidden act, feeling his sperm lubricate her as his cock disgorged its final load. He heard his mom's low scream of pleasure as she orgasmed, seemingly over and over. He thought he half heard a laugh, inside his head, fading away. Then the presence was gone.