Eternally Bound Pt. 02

I could hear Mom's deep breathing tinged with low, guttural moans of wanton lust. "Oh Mother."

Mom gave an anxious yelp, hearing her beloved trigger word. I basked in aural bliss as my mind scrambled to find the right words. "So wrong, but so right-isn't it, Mother?"

"Yes... fuck yeah."

The wicked combination of Shannon staring at my erection and mom's and my breathtaking phone sex electrified every nerve in my body and made me dizzy as Shannon traced the underside of my shaft.

"Look at this," she whispered to herself. "She did this to her son."

I gasped, squirming under the merciless caresses. "I love you, Chris."

"I love you, Mother. God, so much."

I heard another helpless moan.

"Gonna come back and make you mine," I added.

"Fuck yeah."

"Forever."

"Ooooh God yes, Chris. Forever."

I felt Shannon take my free right hand and put it on my cock. She reached over to her nightstand, picking up a tube of lubricant, and popping it open. She drizzled a slow stream of the clear liquid across my fingers and palm. I grasped my rock-hard stalk, letting out a long sigh.

"Ooooh my dear sweet Mother."

"God, I love it when you say that."

"I know," I panted. "Love making it sound sexy."

"Yeah, yeah," agreed Mom fervidly.

"Mother."

A groan of release and ecstasy crossed the two-thousand-mile distance between us. I wished all the world could hear what I was doing to my own mother and see for themselves just how wonderful falling in love with your mother could be.

Mom was now alternating between anguished gasps and deep guttural wails of dazzling ecstasy. In the absence of my body, my words had to corral Mother's lust, and, being the shrewd creative type she was, this was not going to be easy with Shannon's mouth and fingertips mere inches away from my cock.

I let go of the instinctual word filter to say whatever came to mind. It was obvious what I needed to say next:

"Deep down, Mother, I hoped to make you pregnant the other night."

Mom shrieked as I had never heard a human shriek before. It was a sound of raw astonishment, amazement, horror and awe. Sharp, shallow gasps came next as Mom managed a barely-coherent "fuck." "Pregnant, Mother," I repeated. Shannon sighed, entwining her fingers together with mine. The mere thought of impregnating my own mother was mind-boggling, to say the least. Its potency was far more meaningful than I'd expected. It took the relationship on an entirely new path with a far more serious tone. But, given Mom's reaction, I knew it triggered something within her very soul.

"Can see it in your eyes," I added.

All Mom could do was blabber incoherently as she gasped for each breath. The ultimate triumph. The forbidden victory. A living, breathing testament to the love between a mother and her son.

"All those years looking at you," I went on. "Hoping. God, Mother, to make you pregnant would be my greatest victory."

"Ooooh Chris, yes!" cried Mom. "Jesus Christ, yes!"

"To make my mother pregnant," I added.

"Yeah baby! Ooooh shit, baby, yeah!" she screamed.

Images of her swollen stomach danced about in my mind's eye. I could see Mom's hands stroking her fully extended stomach with our child growing inside. Pride swelled in my heart just thinking about the gratification I would feel knowing it was me, and no one else, who did that to her. Ever the romantic, I took it a few steps further, picturing om in a bridal gown, taking my vows to be her husband. That vision alone summoned my seed from the deepest parts of my soul-to marry and impregnate my dear, sweet mother.

"I meant what I said, too," I confessed breathlessly. "To marry you."

"Yes! Yes!" mom replied.

"Be my bride," I added. "Take my hand in marriage."

Mom emitted another spine-tingling scream. I swear I could hear the veins in her body bulging. My strokes quickened as Shannon glared at me misty-eyed. I think even she was taken aback by the intensity of our moment. "Will you marry me, Mother?" I gasped earnestly.

"Yes! My gawd Chris, yes!" she quickly shrieked in reply. "How could I say no?"

"Ooooh, fuck yeah!" I bellowed in sheer bliss.

I couldn't believe it. Mom was agreeing to it all. I felt my cum beginning to make its timeless passage within me. Visions of our wedding swirled in my head: Mom's voluptuous flesh tucked into a white gown. Her deep cleavage on full display for me. Those broad hips packed into that dress. Her long flaxen tresses, cascading about her bare, golden shoulders. All I could hear was "Mother" again and again in my mind.

"Gonna marry you," I gurgled.

"My husband," she replied with a guttural moan. My voice became weak and high pitched, made helpless by the onslaught of romantic anticipation. "Marry... my... mu... my mother," crying out like a feeble child. In so many ways, that's what I truly was.

"Give me your child, Chris," Mom commanded in her intoxicating, mellifluous voice. "Make your mother pregnant."

I froze hearing such sinful orders. My body seized up hearing my mother's love-sick pleas for pregnancy. The way in which she said it, the soothing but knowing tone her words held... It wasn't so much a question as a statement. Just thinking about it took my breath away. Make Mom pregnant? How could that happen?

My mind drifted back to the other night, seconds before I came, and the look on Mom's face. Complete abandon... wanton lust. I had never seen such a look on her face before that moment-the flaming passion as she grasped the fact that her son was making love to her at that very moment, that my cock was buried deep inside the very bastion of where my life was forged years before. The emotional recognition splashed across Mom's lovely face.

"God, I'm gonna do this," I whispered incredulously.

I could hear Mom's breathing quicken in the forbidden winds of incestuous yearning. I clung to her every whimper and sigh to make up for the distance between us. Thankfully, they were plentiful, and I basked in the power of our mind-boggling phone sex.

"Gonna cum, Mother."

"Yeah, baby. Cum for me," she urged. "Cum for your mother."

I cried out for her, quickening my strokes even more. I visualized her atop me with my hands grasping at her wide, thrusting hips. Her last words were on repeat in my head: "Cum for your mother," allowing all its surreal connotations to permeate my heart and soul. I was flung off Shannon's bed with the first orgasmic spurt. I felt my hot semen splash on my neck and chest as my body was shattered by our rousing orgasm. Shannon slid next to me on the floor and grasped my sweaty torso as millions of tiny electric bolts exploded behind my eyelids. The second and third waves of cum sent my body rocking from side to side, hurling more cum back at Shannon and across her sheets.

"Cumming... mu... Mother!" I cried.

Mom hummed in joy, her voice piercing to the core of my being. My mother made me cum over and over, and the actuality of our pairing made me want to cum even more.

"Ooooh Chris."

"Fuck!" I belted out as the fifth, sixth and seventh waves of cum held my tattered body hostage.

Visions of Mom's enlarged stomach filled my mind. As my semen began to flow, my pride swelled with it in the ambition and hope that I would make my mother pregnant with my child. No fear, no hesitation or doubt. Just resolve.

I lay, spent, on my back, out of breath as if I'd run a marathon. Sweat covered my skin and Shannon watched the last dribbles of semen trickle from my twitching penis. Her head rested on my stomach as I heard Mom sigh on the other end of the line.

"Mother," was all I could muster.

"Oh Chris," she cooed lovingly. "That should have been shared together, not apart."

"I know," I replied. "But it was so beautiful."

"It is," she said.

A long silence followed, broken only by the sounds of our breathing.

"Mother?"

"Yes, Chris."

"I meant what I said about making you pregnant and marrying you. Every word."

A barely audible "Oh my God"

With a sniffle, she said "I just... I never thought I'd hear anyone say those words to me."

The afterglow lasted for a couple of hours until Mom had to leave for the gym. We ended the call against our wills but knew that real life was back, staring us in the face. Shannon and I spent the rest of the afternoon catching up, marveling at the accomplishments she had helped usher in. "Your next assignment is to take tomorrow for yourself," she said. "You've been with either me or your mother for the last few weeks. Now it's Chris time. Tomorrow, I want you to take time out to let this soak in. Go for a walk in the state park. Turn your phone off and be one with your surroundings. It's supposed to be sunny and in the low 40s, so a perfect day to go off in nature."

"But I don't want to be by myself," I protested.

"Trust Shannon. You need this time, babe."

Like Mom, Shannon had a great deal of wisdom and experience, and I had to trust her on this. I did as she said, and gradually came to enjoy my last day before the spring term started. The sun was bright and comforting, and within a couple of hours an inner peace came over me like nothing I had ever felt before. Shannon said that my mission was to recharge my batteries, and the seven hours I spent in the middle of the park did more than that. I found solace in those quiet moments.

All of the precious memories of growing up by her side, watching her with the eye of a smitten child, then with the appreciative lens of a budding teenager, and now with the gaze of a wanton lover. I remembered all the furtive moments of awareness I'd had that Mom was a gorgeous, sexually charged creature deserving of a higher love. Sitting beside a small stream, I closed my eyes as I listened to the melting snow and ice trickle downward. A collage of images spanning my entire life played out in my mind's eye: Stolen glances of Mother in the pool, stopping whatever I was doing to take special notice of her radiant beauty at weddings or barbecues, and all the crass comments from my pals that made me furious with jealousy. I swelled with pride thinking I was the one who won her heart. I was the one making sweet, tender love to that body. It was my seed that was flowing through her beautiful body, not theirs.

CHAPTER 18 - SKULLDUGGERY

The following weeks were tough, but daily talks with Mom helped make the time pass. The distance did help us take a step back and see the relationship in a real-world sense. I often surprised Mom by mailing her flowers, candy and love letters. She loved what she called the "little touches" to our relationship; the notes, the sweet texts we shared throughout the day. Of course, I was the lucky recipient of some risque texts. I had asked Mom to send me pics of her ass, and after a few epic fails Mom was able to get her phone in the right position using the timer feature.

The images were especially welcome once she started taking ones of herself at the pool. One day my text alert buzzed, and when I saw the picture she'd sent of herself in a new swimsuit I instantly felt my stomach flip. I was working at the coffee shop when I saw it, and I had to sit down immediately. Mom had bought a new black, high-cut, laced halter-top bikini. Six carefully placed straps of fabric wrapped around her thick, golden thighs and mouthwatering hips. My jaw hit the floor and I broke out into a sweat. There are moments in my short life that are eternally branded on my soul-this was undoubtedly one of them.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I murmured to myself, trying to process this visual spread on my phone. It was mid-afternoon in San Diego when Mom had taken the photo, and the hot California sun kissed her sweeping curves just right. A thin sheen of sweat and suntan oil made her bronzed, buxom flesh slick and shiny. "Are you okay, Chris?" asked my co-worker.

"Fine, fine," I stammered. "Just, uhhh, need a few minutes."

"Do you need me to get you anything?"

"No, I'm good thanks," I said.

After my co-worker walked off I turned my attention back to the luscious image. Mom had cropped the picture so that it showed her from just below her neck down to her knees. She knew exactly how much I would appreciate it.

"You like?" Mom texted back.

"Holy shit, I nearly had a heart attack here!"

"All for you, big boy," she wrote back.

"I have to jerk off just seeing this!"

"Think about knocking me up when you cum."

I nearly wept reading her last reply. I simply couldn't believe my luck.

"Might be pregnant now."

My next text summed up everything we both felt: "Hope so."

I leapt from my chair, telling my co-worker I had to go to the bathroom. Thankfully, there was a nice secluded accessible restroom on the fifth floor in the campus center. Locking the door behind me, the familiar fantasies of my mother and I took my thoughts westward. There at the pool with my beloved woman, I traced each and every divine curve of her moist flesh. As Mom had asked, I came focusing solely on impregnating her.

My impregnation fantasies had to remain just fantasies for the time being, as in early February Mom confirmed that our lovemaking hadn't made her pregnant. Our nightly phone calls continued, each one lasting for hours. We got to know each other in a much more intimate way, and I was starting to see the benefits of coming back to Indiana after New Year's. We both agreed that had I stayed, it would have been "too much too soon."

I had told Mom about the true nature of Shannon's and my relationship from the start, and I often found marvelous refuge in her loving bed. I told Mom that Shannon had helped me face my feelings for her and that she supported our relationship wholeheartedly. Mom wasn't jealous at all; on the contrary-she was grateful that we both had an advocate cheering for our success. Eventually, Mom began talking on the phone with Shannon when I was at her apartment. Shannon picked up my phone for me one day and had a two-hour conversation with her. The two quickly became friends, having their own conversations separate from the shared ones with me. Of course, most guys my age would push for some girl-on-girl action, but I didn't. Don't get me wrong, I love watching two women make love as much as most straight guys do, but I just didn't want to impose that on Mom or Shannon. Spring break was just around the corner, and Shannon popped in to the coffee shop around closing time one day in late February.

"Let's surprise Beth for spring break," she said, giving me a quick kiss hello.

Shannon's lovely face wore a sly smile, and I could tell that she was up to something.

"Hell yeah!" I said. "Both of us?"

"Yep," she replied. "She's got her Pilates class on Tuesday that week, so we can surprise her then."

Shannon immediately started looking up flights to San Diego and making plans. I was off work during spring break anyway, and the thought of spending one glorious week with both Shannon and Mom thrilled me to no end. That night Shannon booked our flights, and she even covered my airfare.

Spring break simply couldn't come fast enough.

COMING UP NEXT IN PART 3

"Are you scared holding his hand in public?" Shannon asked.

"Still getting used to it. No one in my circle have ever met Chris, so I'm not used to showing him off."

"That will only help," Shannon pointed out.

"Yeah, I don't think anyone would ever even guess he was my son."

"Nice," Shannon said, sipping her wine as she admired our hands entwined.

"I loved watching you make love," she continued in a hushed tone.

Mom's hand squeezed mine, and she caressed the top of my hand with her other one.

"I've always wondered how intense it would be."

Mom sighed, obviously aroused by her comments. Shifting in her chair, she cast me a longing-filled gaze.

"You know, in our talks Chris said one of the greatest hopes he had was to watch you walking along somewhere, looking at your hips and knowing you were carrying his seed."