Forbidden Pride Ch. 01

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An accident changes the family dynamic.
5.5k words
4.52
101.3k
155

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 07/21/2016
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The beeping of the heart monitor wakes me, but when I open my eyes everything is just a blur of colors. A constant hum next to my head is the only thing to focus on as reality slowly slides back into place. Before my vision clears I figure out that I'm in a hospital, and I'm too weak to move. Toes and fingers tingle as I try and wiggle them as best I can, to get any movement out of my extremities.

"Welcome back to the living, Mr Ward." The voice is deep and masculine, reassuringly calm. Right before my eyes can focus a bright light blinds me, first in my right eye, then the left. Cold metal then touches my chest, and if I had the strength to moan I would have.

"Save your energy and rest. You're lucky to be alive. As soon as the nurse takes a blood sample. We will let your mom back in. She's been worried sick about you." Suddenly I know I'm alone again. What energy I have fades quickly, and my eyes close before anything really manages to come into focus. Soon the blackness of sleep takes me.

I dream vividly in my sleep. A dream of running endlessly across fields of sparse grass dotted with twisted trees. The dream becomes one of lounging in the shade of one of those trees while a woman lays next to me, her head resting in my lap. She never turns her head toward me in my dream, her long black hair hides her identity. We are both nude and the soft skin of her cheek sends tingles through my leg. This is my woman.

Then the dream skips again. A strange young man comes at me, violence in his eyes, a challenger. I meet him head on while a gathering of faceless people watch us intently. As the battle commences we roll to the ground, delivering blow after blow. Somehow I wind up on top and without hesitating sink my teeth into his neck, tearing away a chunk of flesh. Blood spurts against my chest and face as I look around at the watchers. My family. I roar at them and the black haired woman emerges from the crowd. My family. My woman.

When I wake up my body feels full of life and energy. Before I realize where I am, I'm sitting up and looking around for the black haired woman from my dream. My eyes work perfectly now, finally seeing what I understood as truth last time I woke up. I am in a hospital, but I can't for the life of me remember why. All I can think about is the woman from my dream, and the aching hard on I still have.

"Morgan! I'm here, baby." She embraces me from the side. I freeze in shock. My own mother is holding me tightly and I can't fight of the heightened state of arousal from my dream. She smells like lavender on a mid summer morning. That thought slows my hot blood enough to be able to turn and return the embrace. The throbbing downstairs slows, but doesn't go away entirely.

"What happened?" I ask her, in a voice that sounds more like a cross between a croak and a whisper than my usual voice. I can't remember anything. My body aches like I've been in a car accident. She breaks away long enough for me to try and cover my crotch as she tries to answer.

"There was an explosion in the lab at school," she says with her back to me. Her dark blonde curls bounce and her shoulders slump as she speaks, giving away her attempt to hide her tears from me. I remember the noise and the light. The ringing in my ears and the pain in my arm, which seems to be alright now. I remember trying to crawl out of the room, but the smell, pungent and dizzying, overwhelmed me.

"The doctors say you breathed something poisonous. You were dead for a few minutes, Morgan. The EMTs revived you. They saved your life." Tears flow down her cheeks. It's hard to think about what happened to me, but harder to watch her cry. Carefully I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and on rubbery knees take the few steps over to her and hug her.

"I'm okay now mom." I don't really think I am. Taking two steps exhausted my energy supply. She stops crying though, and rest her hand on my arms where they wrap around her shoulders and upper chest. We stay that way for a few minutes, embracing.

"Morgan?" She finally says.

"Yeah, mom?" I reply. Still enjoying her peaceful smell and the embrace. I hadn't seen her since winter break, months ago.

"Your sorta poking my butt." Oh no, I am. My hard on is stiff and pressed against the ass of her jeans, and I realize it feels amazing. She stumbles as I push away, my embarrassment giving me extra strength.

"I'm sorry." I'm not sure if I mean that I'm sorry it happened or sorry that it felt felt so good. I suddenly realize that the hospital gown isn't tied and I'm presented with the very embarrassing prospect of my mom seeing my covered, yet raging, hard on or my bare ass. I chose the ass because I haven't been rubbing it on her. She laughs.

"It's okay. That things been standing at attention the whole time I've been here. Everyone's noticed it. Some of the nurses even complimented it." Mom is pretty when she laughs. Her blush tells me that she is just as embarrassed as I am, but trying to work with the helpless situation. The awkward silence is broken by the entrance of the doctor. The tall skinny man looks surprised to see me standing, but doesn't mention it as out of the ordinary.

"Mr Ward, there's some good news and bad news here. The good news is that we are releasing you today." The voice is the same as when i awoke before, calm and reassuring.

"We're going home, Morgan." Mom puts her hand on my shoulder as she says it, the excitement easily heard in her voice. I have more pressing concerns.

"What's the bad news?" I ask him. He crinkles his face as if trying to think of how to put it in lay and terms.

"The poison is still in your blood. It's not a lethal amount, but it's increasing your blood flow. Hence your constant erection. The good news there is that it isn't as much as, say a Viagra. You do what young men do a couple times a day, and if it is still a problem in a week, then go to your primary physician for follow up tests." He takes a piece of paper from the clipboard and passes it to me. Turns out that is that; it's a patient release form. All it says is to get a lot of rest, drink a lot of liquids, and take Tylenol for any headaches.

I couldn't have made it if not for the fact that mom had become a fitness nut after I left the house. She looked years younger since I left for college, and though I'm no small guy, she easily helps me into shorts and a tee shirt. She looks away red faced when she helps me get my shorts on, even though the hospital gown covers everything except the tented effect. Eventually we manage to get dressed and wheeled out to the car.

It's late in the evening by the time we hit the road and mom fills in the blanks that I have questions about. I had only been unconscious for thirty hours or so. Mom and my half sister Christine had flown out to the shitty Midwest town I went to college in. Chrissy had been at my dorm gathering my belongings to take back home. I have to admit surprise at that. Chrissy had been a wild child and left the house when she was sixteen. I was twelve at the time and barely saw her after. I can't remember the last quality time we had spent together.

Soon enough we are at the hotel they had been staying at, and again mom surprises me with her strength as I lean on her shoulder for support. I feel pathetic as I rely on the woman who raised me to get me up to the hotel room. At least it is a first floor room. When the door opens Chrissy jumps up out of the bed and quickly changes the channel. Mom doesn't say anything, but any college guy knows the sound of porn. She smiles at me with a surprisingly genuine smile and her face is definitely flushed.

"Morgan!" She says and rushes me. Chrissy wraps her arms around me tightly and while I return the hug, her full breasts crush into my chest awakening the fire in my hard on. It had started to subside, but the soft roundness of her big breasts starts my blood flowing.

"Chris, help him over to the bed. I'm going to go find us a pizza." Mom releases me into Chrissy's arms and she sags ever so slightly to bear my weight. She seems to be in a hurry to get away from us, and I can only figure she must be starving. Chrissy doesn't move as mom closes the door. I wrap my arms around her and return the embrace, trying to ignore the building pressure between us.

"It's been awhile, sis." It's been four years. I haven't seen her since my graduation.

"You smells good for a dead man." Chrissy sticks her nose into the base of my neck under my chin and breathes deeply. The sensation is strange and unexpected form my long lost sister, but cool air rushing across the skin of my chest and neck is electric. There is no way I could be any harder than I am now.

"I stink. Help me to a chair before I fall over." I tell her rather than ask her. I find this a strange thing for me to do, very unlike me. I take note that she does immediately react. With a slight shift Chrissy sets her shoulder under mine and we start the slow process of working toward a chair in the corner of the room.

"You got heavy. Lay off the cafeteria food." I fall into the chair and close my eyes. How can I even be so weak and tired? I feel her standing there looking at me through my closed eyes. The sensation from my body is just a crazy mixture of tired sore muscles and the ache of the throbbing in my pants. I need to get off soon or it will start being painful.

I open my eyes and find she is indeed staring at me, directly at my crotch. I haven't seen her in ages but she seems to be holding up well. Black hair falls into her face, hiding her eyes and her view of me. She bites her lip as she stares at my crotch. When I look down I'm not very impressed, but I do smell myself. How could she think I smell good? I smell like I died and laid in a hospital bed for two days.

"Chrissy, go fill the bath with hot water, please." Slowly, as if she forgot I could speak, she raises her head till her dark blue eyes meet mine. Heartbeats pass while we make eye contact, and then she finally nods.

"Hot it is." She seems to be in a hurry to get away from me. I close my eyes, once the roar of the bath water comes rumbling out of the hotel bathroom.

I must doze off. The next thing I know is the shaking of my shoulder gently. I open my eyes to mom looking down at me. Her blue eyes seem extra close in the large square framed glasses she always wears. The smell of pizza makes my stomach grumble and churn, but the ache in my crotch is even more insistent. I need privacy and I need it now.

"Mushroom and pineapple, your favorite," mom says with a smile. A pizza box is open on the small square table at my side. Chrissy now sits on the edge of the bed with her own pizza box, deeply engrossed in a reality show about pregnant high school girls.

"Not yet mom. I want to clean up." When I lean forward I feel a bit recovered, but mom reaches out to help me stand.

"Okay, baby. Let's get you cleaned up." My legs feel much better after my short nap and I barely need her help getting into the bathroom. She seems distant as she tests the water and nods approvingly. Then she helps me pull my shirt off.

"Mom, I can take it from here." I gesture toward my obvious physical predicament. Suddenly, she looks much less distant.

"None sense, I'm your mom. You can barely walk. I'm going to help you get clean, then you can take care of that thing." Is it highly erotic to watch your mom kneel at your feet in front of your hard cock? It is for me right now.

I can't think of her as my mom. What I see is an amazing, beautiful, strong woman. The angle of the sky blue tank top shows off an amazing view of her shoulders and cleavage in the gaps of her curly blonde hair. Her breasts from this angle seem average in size, and my body reacts to the view of her cleavage with a throb of my cock. The tip of the tent in my shorts twitches visibly just inches from my moms face and she continues to stare at it without reacting.

With slow, purposeful movements she reaches up to take the waist band of my shorts in her hands from either side. Slowly, she pulls my shorts down with a peaceful, trance like, look on her face. The waistband slides over my bare ass. It slides over my hips, but the elastic catches on my cock. Breathing heavily, and with a face blank of any expression she starts to pull the scrunched up nylon down, and my cock with it. I feel every fiber stroking my skin in my super sensitive state. I'm barely holding back the moan.

A lot of things happen at once when she pulls the fabric past my head. First thing I notice is her eyes get wide. Then as her hands pull my shorts down past my knees her cleavage bounces just right to see her entire ripe breasts. Her pink nipples on display, hard and at attention right in front of my eyes. Then as my cock bounces free the wickedly pleasureful sensation of the last threads of the shorts whipping across the enflamed and sensitive tip of my cock makes me explode. One thick gob blasts it's way lazily between us to land right between mom's breasts. The thick white goop splats and starts to run down her chests, pooling between her tits. The groan that comes from me is half animal and my knees shake violently.

"That was..." Mom says. She seemed to be unable to look away or finish the sentence.

"...spectacular. That was a a lot of come, and she never even touched you. You're still rock hard too. Look at that." Chrissy is standing in the doorway, her eyes bugged out of her head and a crazy crooked smile on her face. Mom finally looks away from my still mostly hard and sensitive cock.

"Girl, think about how wrong what you just said is. Close the door before you leave." The glare is ice cold and daring, but Chrissy barely even listens.

"That was a porn quality come shot, little brother. Have you always been able to do that?" She looks at me so excitedly that I think she's turned on. Face flushed and eyes glinting, I suddenly remember she had been watching porn when we arrived. This is my sister when she's horny, and she happens to be pretty sexy. It's not a good idea to think like that. I've only just gotten relief from the ache I've had in my pants for hours.

"Chrissy, this is really embarrassing to me. If you're not going to help, don't make me feel worse." Her face softens. I can't explain how I've been talking to Chrissy. Firmly, I guess. Yet, there seems to be something passing between us. Her face changes in front of my eyes. What I know was lust a moment ago is now understanding. She simple nods, smiles, and silently leaves, closing the door as she does. Mom raises her eyebrow at me, but says nothing about the interaction.

The bath is both welcome and strange. No words pass between my mom and I as she helps me into the bath. It's terribly embarrassing to need this help, but I can't bring myself to care right now. She stands at my side supporting me, as I first lift one foot into the bath and then the other. Heat soaks into my skin as mom helps me slide down into the clear water. The hotel room's bath tub seems big enough for two and I have to stop my mind from wandering to her. Thankfully mom decides to fill the silence.

"There was a cute little Mexican girl at the hospital worried about you. Is she your girlfriend?" I wish she was, but that isn't going to happen.

"Abigail is my lab partner for the degree project," I explain weakly. The hot water turns my muscles limp, and I just want to sleep. I fight to sit up so that I can wash myself, but mom stops me from grabbing the soft sponge she has sat on the edge of the tub.

"No, Morgan. Let me help." She swats my hand away. Mom kneels at the side of the tub and starts to reach for the sponge herself, but then bites her lip a second before pulling her hand back. She looks at me as if daring me to question her as she grabs the bottom of her tank top and pulls it completely off and throws it to the side. My present from earlier is starting to dry on her chest.

"Mom?" Is this really my mother, Sharon Ward? The pretty blonde haired and blue eyed woman sticks her chest out at me proudly. She has mentioned her new workout regimen she's on, but I had never imagined my mom as the firm tight bodied woman in front of me. She had never been fat, but she had never had those defined shoulders and abs. The cream covered tits are a perfect sized handful that sit firm and plum shaped on her chest, with light pink nipples, staring to get hard. I am well past hard again.

"I don't have another shirt, so I need that one clean for the drive home tomorrow. I also thought you'd be more comfortable if you weren't the only one exposed." The answer makes sense. I don't want to make this situation worse so I reserve any more comments. Silently she gets to work soaping up the sponge.

There is an exotic eeriness to the bath. I keep my eyes closed and try not to remember that my mother and her grade A breasts is the one washing me. She seems to spend more time than necessary on my chest and neck. This sets off a strange tingle that helps me ignore the throbbing in my rigid member. It's as if she is activating new skin cells with every pass of the sponge. The feeling is forgotten as she leans in to wash my back. Suddenly the swell of her soft breasts rubs against my arm. Her nipples drag ever so lightly on my arm and she gasps slightly. After that, she never accidentally touches me with her skin again.

Eventually she works over my whole upper body while I lean forward. The heat and fresh scrubbing make my muscles tingle and feel alive. With some verbal prompting I lean back and extend my legs one at a time so she can scrub them for me. I keep my eyes closed as she does so, trying not to deal with the fact that my topless mother is scrubbing me. Her fabulous tits are already covered in my seed. She is running out of skin to scrub that is not rock hard and aching for her touch.

"Morgan?" She says softly. When I open my eyes to see what she wants, she meets my eyes and points toward my crotch with a hand covered in suds.

"I'll take care of it. It's okay mom," I say looking at it. It stands half out of the water pointing straight up.

"I can. If you want me to." She says. This seems so out of place.

"Do you want to? Tell me the truth." I press her. I don't ask aggressively, keeping my tone neutral. She takes about ten seconds to answer.

"I do. I've been so horny since the first time I saw you yesterday. Even when you were unconscious I thought about stroking you." She reaches out her hand slowly and her fingers wrap around my shaft. The soap is more than enough lubrication as she slowly goes up and down the length. Every time she gets to the head her fingers massage me in a gentle swirl, sending shivers down my core. I can't hold back the moan.

"Shh. Chrissy will hear us." Mom warns. Her stroking becomes more intense. Her blue eyes sparkle as we lock gazes.

"Touch yourself." I tell her. She nods and reaches between her legs with her free hand. The zipper breaks the sounds of heavy breathing as she undoes her pants. Soon her eyes are closed as she concentrates on rubbing herself in time to stroking my cock. She bites her bottom lip as her cheeks get more and more flushed.

"I'm close," I warn her while my toes start to curl. Her blue eyes open and gaze at me in a hazy cloud of lust magnified in her glasses.

"Come on mommy's tits again, baby." Her voice is deep and husky. She leans over the tubs edge as far as she can while still being able to rub between her legs. She points my throbbing member at her chest and strokes even harder.

"Ask nicely," I say through gritted teeth, holding it as long as I can. The muscles in the small of my back are cramping, but I'm determined to extend this dream come true.

"Please, baby. Come on my chest. I can't finish until I feel your hot load on my tits, baby. Please, come for mommy." That does it. Spray after spray of hot, sticky goo sprays onto her chest, covering her tits and neck. As soon as the first load hits her square between her tits, her eyes roll into the back of her head. Mom's pretty features contort into a mask of pleasure behind her big square glasses. After twitching for about thirty seconds, she slumps forward, but smiles at me.

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