Taboo: A Memoir Ch. 04-06

Our rolling passion built as we swayed and lunged together. I kissed her back through the yellow silk.

"Oh...you're making me come! Oh, fuck me!" she said. As I pounded it into her, her voice became a scream and her ass writhed around my tool. I didn't know she could bend in so many different ways and her cunt could grip me in so many different ways, but I managed to stay with her as her orgasm sparked mine. In waves of pleasure my semen streamed out of my balls, pumped higher and higher up my shaft, jetted out the tip, and spurted into mom. We were one once again. My screams of lust blended with hers while the table rattled, tea sloshed out of the cups, and blueberries bobbed in our cereal bowls.

As our passion slackened, we moved more slowly, then stood still, and I finally pulled out of her, our morning gymnastics completed. Diana raised herself from the table, and her skirt fell back down so she looked again fully dressed in her serious business outfit and ready for work. I on the other hand had my jeans down around my ankles, and my wet red organ was dripping the last of its load onto them. Pointing at it, mom asked in mock outrage, "What's that doing at the breakfast table?"

She gave it a squeeze, then plucked her undies from the floor. "So much for these. I wear them a half hour around you and they're already drenched." Waving them, she dashed into the bathroom to clean up. I pulled up my pants, sat back down, and finished my crunchy granola.

She came out all hurried and professional looking, picked up her briefcase, and kissed me on my milky mouth. "This was truly a breakfast to remember. But I won't tell the judge why I'm late."

I shot her a V sign as she swept out the door.

*****

As we continued to enjoy each other, we realized this was more than just fun and games. It was also stressful. By defying our culture's deepest ban and daring the ultimate no-no, we'd put ourselves far outside society's norms. Sex was for us not just a passionate but also a political act. We'd become guerrilla warriors fighting an ancient myth and centuries of prudish repression. We were overthrowing the conventional order and liberating new potentialities, and this turned into a personal struggle too. These inhibitions and guilts were inside us; we'd absorbed them, so we now had to confront them and drive them out. Sometimes we broke down under the strain and yelled at each other or just held each other and cried. Irrational though it was, we were afraid of going insane or become shattered wrecks.

Throughout it all, however, we knew our love was right and good, the best thing we'd ever experienced. More than just wild and crazy sex, more than anti-patriarchal revolution, it was deep mutual devotion. Even if we had wanted to stop, we couldn't. We were hooked on this combination of two most powerful loves. Whatever might happen to us, we'd go through it together.

But life has its practical side too, and that part we were ignoring. After several weeks of nonstop obsession, my grades were sinking and her work suffering. We both needed more time to ourselves and more privacy. When our nerves would fray from too much intimacy, we'd shout at each other: "Leave me alone!"

I guess you could say the honeymoon was over. We put our clothes back on and decided we'd sleep together on the weekends, really go wild, but during the week I'd sleep in my room and we'd focus on school and work. Congratulating ourselves for being sensible and responsible, we settled in for the long term as a loving family.