Heat, Humidity and a Film

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In the heat of the night a mother and son filfill their love.
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Moondrift
Moondrift
2,281 Followers

"Don't darling...please don't...don't cum in me...oh God oh God..."

It was too late, even if I had wanted to stop I couldn't, I had to have her fully, as nature demanded, filling her sweet warm place with my semen. God knows I'd waited long enough, it had seemed like forever, but it had been at least since I'd entered puberty when I was twelve. Seven years is a long time to hunger for a woman – the one woman I really wanted – and yet believing that my longing for her could never be consummated.

I had tried so hard to divert my longing for her on to other women. If I could have carved notches on my penis for every woman I had fucked it would have amounted to at least a dozen; older women of course; women eager to be fucked by a potent young guy, longing to feel my warm young sperm filling them, willing to let me do anything I wanted with them as long as I brought them to orgasm.

It was great in a way with those horny divorcees, widows and discontented wives, but the truth was they were mere compensation for the woman I really wanted.

They were blatant in their need, those women I'd had, almost begging me to bed them; yes it had all been so easy, but cruel as it may sound it was their very eagerness to have my penis in their vaginas that eventually drove me away from them. I suppose I was always seeking for a greener pasture, the woman who could finally substitute for the one I really wanted, but it had proved a hopeless search.

The one I wanted was so different from those women. There was a sweetness and innocence about her, she was so loving and in my eyes beautiful, and the agony was that we lived together. To be so constantly in her presence was torture, elation, and it meant incessant penile erections that I tried to hide from her – not easy when you've nearly eight inches of male sexual organ.

If only her breasts had not seemed so voluptuous, her buttocks so high and firm, her slim waist, the soft swelling of her hips and long legs as if sculpted by an artist. There were times I wished it was not so and I would not be tormented in her presence, but it was so. In my eyes she had the sort of body that seemed made for baby making.

Twice I had left home to try and escape from her presence, only to return, because despite the painful frustration I had to be with her, near her. I was a like a homing pigeon flying back to its roost, or a bee to the hive.

It was madness in a way, but isn't love often seen as a form of insanity; the despairing would-be lover constantly restless and unable to keep away from the object of his desire?

I tried to conceal my feelings from her, I believed with some success, but she didn't make it easy for me. She was always so loving and tender with me and had been for as long as I could remember, but I wondered if she knew what she was doing to me with her gentle embraces and kisses.

I suppose as I had sought compensation with other women, she had found her compensation in me; I was a substitute for the man, or rather boy, who had deserted her at the behest of his family when she was found to be pregnant, a family who had paid well for her silence, that much I knew of her past – and of course mine.

Money, yes, but I often wondered how the father I had never met could have left such a gentle and loving creature as my mother, Rebecca, who had no doubt surrendered her virginity to him, and he had left her to spend her youth bringing up a child. But such is life and perhaps my father, being almost as young as my mother, didn't realise what a treasure he had lost. But I realised and swore that if ever I should have the privilege of becoming my mother's lover I would never leave her. A vain hope, for this love of my life was beyond my reach.

* * * * * * * *

Not such a vain hope as it transpired, and not so far beyond my reach as I had imagined. It is said that given enough time truth will rise to the surface, and so it was for me; the truth of love rose to the surface. Yet it came at a time and a place when I had least expected it, if I had ever expected it at all.

It was a hot and humid night and the air conditioner wasn't coping well, in fact it was making things worse because it was the evaporative type and it was making the atmosphere even clammier. I was restless and unable to sleep, and I think it was about 1-30 a.m. when I decided to go and have a cold shower to cool down a bit. As I passed mother's bedroom I noticed the door partially open and the bluish light of a flickering television set. She too was having a restless night.

I had my shower, and partially drying myself I put on my athlete's jockstrap in case mum happened to be on the prowl. It was the most minimal garment and genital cover I had, and thinking back I can see that it was ridiculous to even bother with that, but I suppose habit and modesty lingers on.

Returning to my room I saw that the television in mother's room was still on. She must have detected my movements because she called out, "Robert, is that you?"

"No," I called back, "just your friendly neighbourhood rapist."

"Then come in rapist," she laughed.

Mother's bedroom was, as far as I was concerned, very much her private space, and I had rarely entered it except at her express invitation, and that usually involved a request for me to clear a stopped sink or to remember to buy something for the next day's evening meal, or some sort of chore.

I entered her room anticipating such an instruction, perhaps to get her a drink. Mother wearing a plain a cotton nightdress was propped up on the bed with several pillows behind her back watching a film on TV.

As I entered she smiled at me and said, "Can't sleep?"

"No," I replied, "it's too hot and humid."

"Yes," she replied, "Me too, come and watch this film with me," she said, patting the bed beside her invitingly.

I'd never been invited on to her bed before, and given the way I felt about mother I wasn't to sure about accepting the invitation now, especially as my jock didn't offer much genital concealment but I was thankful I was wearing it because it did provide some concealment.

Seeing me hesitate mum smiled and said, "Neither of us can sleep so we might as well keep each other company."

Hoping I wouldn't get an erection, or if I did mum wouldn't notice it, I got on the bed beside her. The situation was not made any easier for me because I had to share the pillows, and that meant our shoulders were touching, and even that slight touch was sufficient to set my testes tingling.

Trying to distract myself and prevent the incipient erection from becoming full blown, I indicated the television and asked "Any good?"

Mother used the remote for a few moments to turn down the sound and explained, "It's an old film, forties or fifties vintage I think. It's about one of those private schools and one of the teachers who's married to a woman much younger than himself. One of the senior students has fallen in love with her and she's fallen in love with him.

Mother turned the sound up again and I settled to watch. It seemed that classes were over for the day and the students were streaming out of a building. The camera followed one particular student, a really handsome hunk. He headed away from the school and entered a wood with an impossibly idyllic stream running through it, and in a small glade he met a really good looking woman who looked to be in her thirties. She was wearing a white dress, organdie I think the material is called. The whiteness of the dress gave an air of innocence to what happened. I noticed that mum's nightdress was white.

They lay down beside the stream and started to kiss, and he said, "If you love me you'll let me do it."

The woman smiled at him and stroked his hair, and then she started to pull her dress up, but in typical old movie style the scene faded out. It was nothing like the hot scenes you can see in movies now that leave nothing to the imagination, but somehow its understatement made it very erotic. That scene and mum's closeness had brought on the erection I'd been trying to suppress and my jock was bulging.

"Do you think she let him do it?" Mum whispered; her lips very close to my ear.

"I should think so," I replied.

Mother snuggled closer to me and one of her breasts was pressing against my bare arm.

"I hope she did let him make love with her," mother said, "they were so much in love and you could see how much he needed her."

The film continued, moving forward in time to a few years later. The boy, now a young man, was paying a visit to his old school and he meets the teacher whose wife the boy had loved. Enquiring about the teacher's wife the teacher tells the now young man that they have been separated for some years. The film ended with the young man going off in search of the woman he had loved and most probably had sex with.

"Perhaps they made love and she got pregnant, and that's why she broke up with her husband," mum said wistfully. "It makes a lovely story. Just imagine, he finds her and she's got a child and he knows it's his. What do you think he would do?"

Mother's imaginative extension beyond the end of the film had a certain allure, especially as one of the things I would have liked to do with mother was to make her pregnant, and when I come to think of it, the woman in the film did look a bit like mum; sort of pure in a sexy way, if such a mixture is possible.

Yes, there certainly is something special about deliberately impregnating someone you love.

Answering her question and falling in with the sentimental mood I said, "If they really loved each other they'd probably get married."

"Mmm," mother said, using the remote to turn the sound down again, leaving the room bathed in the flickering light of the TV, "that's how the film should have ended."

She moved slightly and her head came to rest on my chest, her dark hair spreading like a fan.

"That's nice," she said, snuggling even closer to me.

For me it wasn't "nice," because my penis started to weep precum and I needed to go to my room and masturbate. My heart was pounding and my penis seemed to be jerking in rhythm with it.

Mother laid an arm over me and hugging said, "That scene by the stream was wonderful, it left so much to the imagination and it makes me wish that I was that woman and I was having sex with a good looking young man who loved me."

I could have pointed out that we didn't really know if they had sex, but I had caught mother's romantic mood, and so I murmured, "Yes, me too."

Silence ensued and where our bodies were touching I could feel the sweat forming. Mother moved again and this time her lips were very close to mine and I could feel her warm breath.

"Really," she said, "You'd like to have been that boy with the woman."

I had known mother to be affectionate with me many times, but I had never known her to be in a mood like this; it was frankly seductive. "Well you'd have liked to be the women," I said defensively.

"Yes," she replied, "I would like to be with a young man who wanted to make love with me."

She kissed me, her lips soft and warm but only lightly touching mine, and then she said again, "So you'd like to have been that boy?" She kissed me again but this time nibbling on my lower lip, and like a film repeating itself she said, "And I'd like to be that woman with a young lover."

She had driven me too far; the last threads of my self control snapped and I flung her over on to her back and kissed her, and to my surprise her lips parted and then my tongue was in her mouth and my hand went to one of her breasts. I could feel its yielding fullness and I expected any moment for her to resist me. Instead her tongue started to tangle with mine and she made no move to remove my hand from her breast.

When our kiss came to an end she said one word, "Darling." Just that single word, but it was not simply the word, it was the passionate tremor in her voice that signalled to me that I was free to take her. If I needed confirmation she pulled up her nightdress and parted her legs to reveal her genitals; the little triangle of pubic hair just above the long cleft of her vulva.

I tore off my jock and came between her legs probing with the head of my penis for the entrance to her vagina. Just before I penetrated her she gasped, "Yes darling, but don't come in me because I can still get pregnant, promise you'll pull out of me when you come."

I promised, but at that moment I think I would have promised anything just to have my penis in her.

Her arousal was obvious from the heat and wetness of her vagina that as I penetrated her expanded to fit round my penis. When I had my whole length in her I paused, feeling the rhythmic contractions of her tunnel round my penis as if she would suck the sperm from my testes.

I had waited so long for this moment and I knew I couldn't hold back for more than a minute or so. This was an entirely new experience for me; I was with the woman I loved, the woman I had always wanted, and being my mother there was added piquancy, a sense of belonging and being at one that I had not known with the other women. I had actually entered that sacred place from which I had once entered this world.

I started to move in her, slowly at first, wanting the exquisite experience to linger, and I swear that I had intended to pull our of her as I ejaculated, but as the moment drew near it was nigh on impossible, I had to put my seed in her.

As mother sensed the approach of my orgasm she started to beg me not to come in her, but it was too late. I had my hands under her buttocks dragging her on to me, struggling for ever greater depth and plunging into her I let go of my sperm.

Mother was crying out, "No...no...no..." but the flood gates had burst and there was no stopping me as I poured my cum into her."

I had just finished when mother's cries changed, "Oh God yes...yes...don't stop...don't stop...please stay with me...don't stop"

She was thrusting up against my now softening penis and I realised that because I had come so quickly her own orgasm had not had time to build, but now it broke out in full force.

She had her legs wrapped round me and her movements became more intense as she tried to get as much of me in her as possible. I stayed with her as quietly sobbing she passed over the peak of her orgasm and slowly started to relax.

We were both breathing heavily and were saturated with sweat but she managed to gasp, "What have you done to me...what have you done..."

It was then the guilt emerged. I had promised to pull our as I ejaculated, but hadn't, and in that sense I suppose you could say that I'd raped her. Oddly, instead of trying to reject me, she was still clinging to me.

I tried to stammer my contrition but mother stopped me placing her hand over my mouth.

She mentioned nothing about my broken promise and said, "I've known for a long time that you've wanted to make love with me, and I've wanted you to, but I always knew it would be something special and once we started we wouldn't be able to stop."

I knew she was right. I had in a sense come home, it was in her vagina my penis belonged, and she was right; other women I had fucked, my mother I had made love with, even if briefly. As if to prove the point to my surprise my penis had hardened again in her. This had never happened with the other women; it had always taken me at least an hour to recover sufficiently to service them again, with mother it had been only a matter of minutes.

"Do it to me again," mother said, "Don't ever stop doing it to me."

It took much longer this time and mother's vagina was filled with my cum and her love fluid. She had at least three orgasms before I spurted my sperm into her, and as I filled her to overflowing the contractions of her vagina seemed to be dragging the sperm from my testes.

It seemed for the moment we were spent; the bed was stained with the melange of our fluids and the smell of sex and sweat permeated the room.

"We'd better have a shower," mother said tremulously, but as she went to get off the bed her legs seemed to give way under her.

She smiled weakly and said, "Darling, you seem to have got me into a rathe fragile condition, but it's been so long you see..."

Her voice trailed away and I rose from the bed and helped her to the shower; and once under the water mother seemed to revive, and now, seeing her naked for the first time I felt my own virility reviving. I took her again, her back against the wall of the shower and me supporting her as I rammed more sperm into her - God knows where I got from.

Refreshed there was no question of where we were to go. Mother was right, once we'd started there could be no stopping, and ever since I have shared her bed.

I have heard it said by some that incest is of the Devil. If that is true then the Devil had his full due that night and has done ever since.

I think that I almost sucked mother's nipples raw, and when we were finally satiated we fell asleep, the taste and smell of mother on my lips and tongue, and with some residue of my sperm still in mother's vagina, in her mouth and on her lips.

As I drifted off to sleep I wondered vaguely if the viewers of the film imagined that what happened between the boy and the woman had involved cunnilingus and fellatio. But that was the world of film and fantasy and I had the reality, and my reality was to last.

Reality! Yes, of course I'd impregnated mother, but then, mother admitted that it was what she had often dreamed about and she said her protest had really only been for my sake in case I didn't want the responsibility of having a child with my mother. Perhaps that arose from her memory of being deserted by my father.

That drew a confession from me, that I'd had that dream too; a dream that love would find its fulfilment in impregnating her.

Moondrift
Moondrift
2,281 Followers
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9 Comments
nightdragon1nightdragon1over 1 year ago

Short but ohh.,so sweet. More!!!!!!!

doug_noughtdoug_noughtover 6 years ago
Moondrift...

...I am running out of ways to praise your work... so beautiful and tender. 5 stars.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 7 years ago
absolutely pathetic story

no depth...no substance...boring...

AnonymousAnonymousabout 8 years ago
Then what happened

Well written, literate. Deserving of a sequel.

AnonymousAnonymousover 10 years ago
he certainly did come home

and back in to the vagina that he had come out of...vice is nice but incest is best...just as it should be.......

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