Hard Times with Mom Ch. 12

Her mind may have been inundated to near incoherence, but her body persisted as if of its own volition. She continued fucking me, urging me to keep on. Her wetness was beyond anything I'd yet experienced. Her delirious groans of ecstasy became almost otherworldly. Her every muscle quivered, expending her last vestiges of strength toward this one final, all-consuming end. When it came, it came in silence.

Mom held her breath, and with every sinew strained taut, experienced this singular culminating orgasm. Rather than a lessening with each successive climax, her orgasms seemed to become even more profoundly intense. I looked down at her with desolate envy, knowing I could never know such divine rapture, but grateful to be witness to it. Then, like a cloud slowly drawing away from the moon to reveal its serene countenance, Mom relaxed beneath me. Contentment suffused her whole being.

Her breath came ragged for several minutes, sweat bathing her body in a delicate luster. Mom's eyes opened, looking as if awakening from an enchanted dream. Her hand reached up and delicately brushed my cheek.

"My handsome boy."

I stayed inside my mom for as long as I could. We kissed, and nuzzled, and basked in each other's glow until I eventually softened and my limp cock slipped out of my mother's still sopping wet pussy.

It would be dawn soon, and if Mom was true to her word, this would be the last time we'd make love.

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Morning came gray and cool. The streets outside were quiet and empty. I sat on the bed waiting for Mom to finish in the shower. I had expected to be more depressed that I was. Maybe I was just too tired to know how I really felt, but there was a comfortable warmth at my core that seemed to be assuring me everything was going to be okay.

"Sweetie?" Mom called from behind the closed door of the bathroom.

"Yeah, Mom?"

There was a pause. That pause had a gravity about it that put me on edge.

"Can you go into my suitcase...and bring me a tampon?"

A dozen emotions raced through me all at once upon hearing that final word. Mom, it appeared, was not pregnant with my baby.

Relief was my first natural reaction, but as I rummaged through her bag, I realized there was an inkling of regret there as well. I guess I knew on some level that if she did have my child growing inside her that it would require a radical redefinition of our relationship. We wouldn't just be fooling around together and playing with naughty taboos, but we would need to deal with what we were doing more seriously. Perhaps deciding to live as husband and wife for the sake of the baby.

But that was all nothing more than fanciful speculation, at least for now. I tapped on the bathroom door. Mom opened up and reached out for the tampon. I passed it to her and our eyes met. I could see the relief in her face, but she couldn't mask the sadness in her eyes. As she closed the door I knew that she felt exactly the same regrets as I did.

I became aware in that moment that things would no doubt be different between Mom and me when we were in our new home, but I was now certain they would be anything but normal. And I intended to make sure of it.