Homelands Pt. 08 Ch. 03

He hadn't picked any up, but that didn't matter. With a mere thought, a bottle of the fine Irish whiskey appeared on the counter behind him.

His mother relayed the news to Kearney with a bemused tone. She no more understood the way he and their neighbor obsessed over small differences in whiskies than she did a word that came out of Cahill's mouth when he talked about crafting musical instruments. But she apparently thought it cute and that was just fine with Cahill.

"See you soon, then," his mother said before hanging up.

"We have much time?" Cahill asked, bouncing her beautiful buttocks gently in his palms.

"Maybe," she said. "Maybe not. Maybe I don't care."

"Is that so?" he asked.

The phone returned itself to its charger while his mother's hands resumed their quest to free his manhood from his pants. "Might help jog his memories," she said, though she knew full well that they weren't dealing with a mere veil. The only way to restore Kearney's mind was for one of them to reach inside his head.

A twinge of jealousy shot through Cahill. Did his mother have a crush on their neighbor?

No, that couldn't be. He wasn't remotely her type. Even assuming he didn't have as good a sense of what turned his mother on as he thought he did, if she'd been harboring a secret attraction to their neighbor, he'd have picked up on it. Clearly, she was just trying to get him riled up.

It was working.

"You got to play with one of the queen's brood not long ago," his mother whispered before nibbling at his earlobe with those big, soft lips of hers. A quick flick of her tongue followed, nearly causing him to ejaculate. "Fair is fair, wouldn't you say?"

She hadn't been forced to watch him fuck Liadan, though. Nor to share.

Still, she had a point. One he wasn't going to acknowledge aloud, but definitely a point.

"It was only a dream," he said.

"You know that's not how it works."

His mother unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them down to his knees. The silk boxers he wore were not up to the task of containing his erect cock. Several inches stuck out below the bottom of one leg. The swollen head nearly reached his knee.

"She seduced me," Cahill protested.

"Lucky you," his mother replied as she started stroking him. "Didn't even have to work for it." Her dress turned to smoke, revealing her enormous breasts and tiny waist. "Whereas I'm going to have to put some effort into convincing `Kevin' to join us."

Right. It would be sooo hard to get the guy to overcome his reluctance. Who would be tempted by an insanely voluptuous woman with a face so beautiful it shamed goddesses, luxuriant red hair, and skin as white as milk? No one, of course.

"But I won't hold that against you," his mother continued.

"Maybe I'm not willing to share," Cahill said. A light warning shot fired across her bow.

"Maybe you've got no say in the matter."

Once upon a time, Cahill had been able to get his way by adopting that tone. Before awakening from the Dreaming, he'd cycled through women nearly as fast as Kearney was now. In those days, speaking in that tone had been a surefire way to crumble a woman's resistance. He'd straddle the border between playful and serious and the girl he was with would rush to keep him on the better side of that boundary.

Of course, those women had all been disposable. The implicit threat to walk away if he didn't get what he wanted had always been sincere. And on some level, those women had likely known that. But it was different with his mother. Everything was.

He briefly considered offering another objection, but thought better of it. Instead, he pressed his lips to hers and enjoyed the sort of kiss that would rupture fainter hearts.

His mother's lips were so full and soft, and she knew just how to use them. And so too did she know how to manipulate his Libido. Neither coming on too strong nor holding back, she offered him nothing short of perfection. His head spun. Before long, he began to doubt whether his feet were still in contact with the tiled kitchen floor. He forgot all about gravity and fey politics and their temporarily abandoned sons. There was room in his mind for naught but Caronwyn's kiss.

By the time their lips parted, he'd emptied his sac.

Well, nowhere near emptied it, in fact. As his mother would soon prove. But the lingering, tender kiss had proven enough to finish the job their teasing had started.

"My, what a mess you've made," his mother said, looking down at the jets of sticky white cum on her thigh and knee. "I should really make you clean it up."

For just a second, she reminded him of Mary Donovan. In a good way. It wasn't too hard, in that moment, to believe that she'd raised him, rather than abandoning him in the Dreaming the way the fey always did. To remember that she wasn't his wife, but the woman who'd brought him into the world.

That only added to his arousal.

In the blink of an eye, all evidence of his excitement was gone. And as soon as his spunk evaporated, his mother lowered herself to her haunches. She stroked his enormous cock a few times, staring up into him with love and lust in her big brown eyes as she did. Then she unceremoniously took him in her mouth.

Cahill gasped for air straight away.

Her luscious lips slid around his thick helmet ever so slowly, taking hours to reach his foreskin. But the very moment they made contact with him, he was in heaven. Cahill shuddered with every fraction of an inch that she advanced. He ran his fingers through her thick, dark hair, marveling at the look and feel of it. Trying not to think about how close she was to overwhelming him with her warm mouth, nimble tongue, and pillowy lips.

It did no good, though.

She was abundantly skilled at her craft, and in no mood to seduce him slowly. The flames of desire raging inside her nearly singed his small hairs, and the wonders she visited upon his manhood were legendary. His spine writhed and his eyelids spasmed. His lower lip quivered and his hands shook. Cahill's entire body was malfunctioning, crippled by the unbearable ecstasy his mother's mouth delivered.

In no time at all, he was cumming again, and his mother was eagerly swallowing his seed. She teased his testicles with her fingertips, as if to coax still more jizz out of him.

His knees went derelict. If not for the support of the counter behind him, he'd have fall down, collapsing into a euphoric heap.

"Was that good, baby?" his mother asked, looking up at him through thick lashes.

"You could say that," he said.

What would be a better way to put it? Divine? No, too trite. Perfect? True, but similarly overused. An act of consummate bliss? That, at least, came close.

"Mmm," she said through a smile as she rose to her feet, her hands traveling slowly up his torso like an advance party. "Thought you might enjoy that."

For a moment, Cahill considered returning the favor. But he was too impatient. His still hard cock needed to be inside her. Besides, he wasn't sure how long he'd have her all to himself. So he spun her around, bent her over, and wasted no time in pushing his manhood past her moist folds and into her love canal.

His mother laughed as he did, summoning a stool for stability the way a jedi might his lightsaber. "A little eager, are we?" she asked.

By way of response, he swept her hair forward, leaned down, and set to work on her neck. He alternated soft kisses with firm bites.

She cooed. "That's it, sweetie. Show mommy how badly you want her."

Cahill reached down and took hold of her huge, swaying tits. He gave them a few good squeezes before loosening his hold enough to let his finger tips find her stiff nipples. Then he began pinching and twisting them, a bit more vigorously than he ordinarily would have.

"Oh, you really are excited, aren't you?" she asked, interrupting the words with a few grunts and whimpers. There wasn't a hint of protest in there, though.

He grunted something incoherent and poured energy into the task of fucking her harder and faster. His hips ceased playing by the rules of the merely mortal, allowing him to smack into her backside a dozen times each second.

It didn't take much of that to silence her. No more words of encouragement escaped from between her lips, nor did she tease him any further about his uncharacteristic aggression. By the sound of it, she was having a hard time keeping air in her lungs.

For good measure, he threw in a few other supernatural flourishes. Unseen hands roamed over her body, caressing lightly here and squeezing firmly there. A spectral mouth worked her clitoris with a combination of soft kisses, light tongue-swirls, and rapid flicks. Her tactile senses grew more acute and then dulled and then sharpened again.

She let out a burst of obscenities before exhausting her breath. A series of grunts and hisses presaged her imminent climax. When it arrived very shortly thereafter, every muscle in her body spasmed. She let out a howl of relief and release that nearly pierced his ear drums. The flood of energy that poured into his Libido made his knees buckle.

All the unseen forces helping him pleasure his mother vanished as he was forced to devote his attention purely to the task of existing. For a few brief moments, he'd lost track of who he was. It took some effort to realize that Cahill and Caronwyn were two separate beings.

"Wow," his mother panted as she pulled herself up from the floor with the help of the stool. "That was...you need to do that more often."

"Oh really?" he asked, feigning indignation.

"Yup," she said, giving him a flat look.

"Well, we'll see what we can do," Cahill said, grabbing her and pulling her in for a kiss.

They were both still a bit short of breath, but their lips were eager enough to dance with one another all the same. As they always were.

"That's okay for me to say, right?" she asked.

"Very okay," he replied.

His mother grinned wickedly.

That was when he sat her down on the stool and lifted her legs up onto his shoulders. Once her lovely stems were in place, he took hold of her narrow waist and entered her again. She placed her hands firmly atop his and locked gazes with him even more firmly. His thrusts were slower, more deliberate, but their lovemaking was no less intense. Inside, her walls pulsed gently against him, massaging his member slowly but surely. When she contracted her inner muscles, she felt like a vice grip. But when she relaxed, it was like he wore a warm, moist glove. One made to fit only him.

They drilled holes into the back of each other's head with their stares. He couldn't get over how gorgeous she was, and had the vague sense that she was feeling much the same. It wasn't fair for a woman to look that good. How was he supposed to keep his wits about him while gazing upon such perfection? Her eyes were so deep and dark, her skin perfect and pure, her lips large and luscious. From her high cheekbones to her cute little nose, her long lashes to her thick brows, she was the very essence of beauty. The sheets of auburn hair framing her beautiful face accentuated her every feature. The delicate points on her slender ears, poking out between those lovely locks, reminded him of her true nature.

Neither of them spoke a word. The only sound was the soft squelching that accompanied his every thrust. That, and the occasional squeak as the stool inched in retreat.

This time, his mother gave as good as she got. Unseen mouths and hands swept over him, biting and squeezing and licking and teasing. He hissed as not-teeth sank slowly into his nipples and then a pair of hands squeezed the twin rocks that formed his ass. Some of the sensations were dimly felt, others overwhelming. The warmth surrounding him was, by turns, soothingly pleasant and unbearably intense.

He did much the same to her, but with dubious success. Withstanding her assault took everything he had. The better part of him wanted to surrender, but he was determined to enjoy it for as long as he could.

Which wasn't very long at all, as it turned out.

"That's it, fill me up, baby," his mother said. Her strong thighs were wrapped around his back now, and he was reminded of an old-fashioned nutcracker. The nails digging into his biceps wouldn't have to press much harder to draw blood. That was nothing compared to the way her inner muscles milked his manhood, though. "I know you've got more to give."

He did. And he gave it, happily.

Eventually, though, he pulled out and stumbled back against the counter, gasping for air as he did. The air seemed to be made of foam, giving way before him only grudgingly. His limbs were heavy and time advanced with all the urgency of a glacier. A month passed as he drew in then released his first breath. The second lasted for weeks.

"Well," Kearney said from the living room. "That was...unexpected."

Cahill tried to reply, but words failed him.

The woman known to their neighbor only as Karen rose to her feet. She swept a lock of sweaty hair back from her face as she turned around. "Hey there, Kevin," she said, as if there was nothing unusual about the scene laid out before him. "Didn't hear you come in."

"Imagine that," the man replied, speaking directly to her tits.

"You're a bit overdressed," she said.

Cahill snorted to himself.

"I am, am I?" he asked.

"A lot, actually," Caronwyn replied.

Kearney looked her up and down. "Are you...where are...?"

The poor guy. He knew something was wrong, but he apparently feared that the impossible could only exist so long as it went unacknowledged. He was Wiley E. Coyote, immune to gravity right up until the moment he looked down to see that yes, he had in fact run straight off the edge of the cliff.

"We'll get to that," the irresistible redhead told him as she slowly closed the distance between them. "First, let's get you out of those clothes."

Kearney offered no protest. No man would have.

So Caronwyn went to work helping him out of his jeans and T-shirt. Cahill was struck by the fact that Kearney was only a couple of inches taller than his mother. If he had more than twenty pounds on her, it wasn't by much. There was something wrong about a woman as voluptuous and divine as his mother seducing a man as unimpressive as his neighbor.

Besides the fact that she didn't belong with any other man, whatever he looked like.

Cahill watched in silent fascination as his mother, who was supposed to be his wife, fellated another man right before his eyes. She gave their neighbor the same treatment she had her son just a little earlier. Kearney's jaw clenched tight and his eyes rolled back inside his head. He held Caronwyn's slender shoulders in his hands, his knuckles turning white.

He tried to tell himself that he wasn't sizing the other man up, cataloguing all the ways in which he was the superior specimen. After all, he wasn't looking at the true Kearney but a mortal disguise. Still, he couldn't help noticing how slim the man was, or how much smaller his endowment was. Though "Kevin" was incredibly fit for his age, the lean muscles covering his body were small and underdeveloped compared to Cahill's, and Cahill wasn't the bulkiest guy around either. His cock, to judge by the brief glimpse Cahill had gotten before his mother engulfed it, was perhaps half his own size.

"She's...fuck...really good," the man croaked out.

"You're telling me," Cahill replied.

The guy might as well have been complimenting her tuna casserole for all the jealousy infusing Cahill's words. He was jealous, even though their kind practice monogamy the way birds practiced swimming, but he wasn't going to let that show.

When it was over, he forced himself to compliment Kearney for lasting as long as he did. Which wasn't long, to be sure, but had been more impressive than Cahill had expected. Perhaps the man had subconsciously drawn on his energy to prolong the experience. But no matter how strong the temptation to sucker punch the older man was, Cahill wouldn't let his mother see how well she was doing in her effort to get under his skin.

"What just happened?" Kearney asked, running a hand through his hair.

"I believe they call it a `blow-job' in some circles," Caronwyn replied. "Or you could say I sucked your dick. Performed fellatio. Gave you head. Slobbed your knob."

Cahill smirked. He was tempted to remark that her skills were so utterly without peer that an entirely new phrase was needed to describe what she did when she pleasured a man. But he kept the thought to himself.

"I get it," Kearney replied. He reached out with one hand, as if to caress the arm of the redheaded goddess, but apparently thought better of it. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Does it look like it?" Caronwyn asked.

"Well, yeah, actually," he said.

"Obviously," Cahill said, speaking for the first time. "But you're more than welcome to join," he added. He came up behind his mother and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Takes more than I've got to satisfy her endless appetites."

"But you do try," his mother said, giving him a light hip check. That simple little gesture gave him inordinate pleasure. When she wasn't in his arms, he felt the way an unused coat hanger would if it was self-aware. "And I appreciate that."

She was just playing along. No need to feel self conscious about whether he was actually capable of satisfying her. None at all. That unpleasant feeling certainly wasn't doubt.

"You're...not serious," Kearney said, sounding like a man who hadn't just gotten his dick sucked by another man's wife. Or a woman he believed to be his neighbor's wife, at any rate. His eyes finally pulled away from Caronwyn's divine figure, meeting Cahill's. "I mean...," he added, without bothering to complete the thought.

"Let's go up to the bedroom," Caronwyn said, taking Kearney by the hand.

"Uh, okay," he said.

Cahill let his arms fall away and tried not to dwell on how empty he felt the moment his mother stepped away from him. How cold his flesh felt without her pressed against him. Instead, he closed his eyes and savored her lingering smell before starting after them.

As they ascended the stairs, Cahill kept his eyes elevated. Somehow, he'd convinced himself that there was nothing wrong with checking out the competition while his mother was hard at work pleasuring him, but now that there was a brief lull in the action, his natural aversion to the sight of a naked man had kicked back in. Once more, he was aware that an eyeful of man-butt was the answer to no problem he'd ever have.

They proceeded in silence. Kearney looked back over his shoulder at Cahill a few times, as if unsure whether he'd find a jealous husband wielding a sharp knife or a baseball bat rather than a friendly neighbor smiling awkwardly back at him. That was the closest thing to communication any of them took part in, though.

When they passed by the nursery, Kearney silently took note of the absence of crib and mobile and plastic toys, but he didn't ask what had happened. Just as he hadn't asked where Chris and Karen were, or whether the younger, sexier couple he'd found in their place might actually be his neighbors. Any other man might have asked such questions. But just as Caronwyn had set aside thoughts of their children, their unknowingly fey friend was a slave to his sex drive.

"Sit there until I'm ready for you," his mother told him after they reached the bedroom, pointing to the chair by the door to their bedroom.

He did as she instructed.

Kearney looked like he was couldn't be sure whether he was about to lie down in a bed or a pit of venomous snakes. But it didn't take long for him to suspend his disbelief. By the time Caronwyn straddled his hips and started taking his modest little cock inside her, he slipped off into a state of pure bliss.