That Damned Blessing Ch. 03

It was not a surprise. He had texted her and they had spoken and arranged this tryst just this morning. Ryan, on the other hand, was a little surprised he had done so, given that Lexy would be ready to take him all day today, but the intensity of the dream he'd had last night was off the charts. He wasn't sure how many orgasms he'd had, but judging by the state of his bed he had come to put a horse to shame. He should be exhausted and spent, but he was rampant, raging to go again -- and Lexy wouldn't do. Lexy was sweet, willing, and gorgeous, but this morning he needed a mature woman like he needed oxygen. To be more precise, he needed his mom, but with her obviously unavailable, Trish Hendricks was next best.

Not that Trish was a consolation prize. Rumors had it that she was well used, so to speak, but she was an attractive woman who kept herself in awesome condition. Before all this with his mom, Ryan thought Trish was a smokeshow; now she was the most distant of seconds. But she was here and DTF and that was all that mattered.

"Hi," he said quickly. "Can I come in?"

"Mmmmaybe. What's the magic word?"

"The magic word is the Garzas' rooms are on this hall so please let me inside."

Trish grinned and stepped back and Ryan almost jumped into the room. She shut the door behind him. "Can I offer you a drink? Or some weed? It's illegal here but the desk clerk sold me some of the best stuff I've ever had, says he grows it in his shed."

"Oh, uh...no, I'm fine, thanks." Ryan said, shifting from foot to foot.

"Maybe you'd better have a shot of Scotch, you look nervous as hell!" she laughed, crossing to the minibar, where she retrieved a pair of shot glasses a half-empty bottle of Glenfiddich. As she poured two large shots, she said, "I had this specially flown in from Brisbane. I don't even let my husband have any. Here."

Ryan accepted the glass, but before he drank he said, "Yeah, about your husband?"

She laughed as she sat on her bed and leaned back on one elbow. "What about him?" Ryan started to stammer something but she cut him off with a gesture. "My husband and I married for a lot of reasons, most of which would be boring for you and none of which involve sex. I'm free to do what I want with whoever I want to do it with."

Ryan considered that. "Is he a cuck?"

"Are you asking if he gets off on watching me have sex with other people, or hearing about it later? Then no, he is not a cuck in that sense of the word. He just doesn't care what I get up to as long as he doesn't need to deal with it either directly or indirectly. I just happen to be fucking insatiable."

"So he wouldn't be mad if he found out?"

"He'd be less interested in that than in what I had for breakfast last Thursday." She paused, then added, "It was a Belgian waffle with fresh mango slices, by the way."

"I'll let him know about the breakfast," Ryan mumbled, then down the shot in one swallow.

Trish squawked in alarm. "That's Glenfiddich 21, not fucking J&B! Have some respect!"

"Huh? Oh...sorry, I don't know much about whiskey."

"I guess not," she chuckled. "Set that glass down and let's find out why you came here..."

Ryan lost his clothes quickly but inelegantly and stepped toward the bed. "Hold on," she told him, holding up a hand. Let me look first. I like to see what I'm working with. Give me a turn...yummy. I knew you'd be a knockout naked. Swimmers always have insane bodies."

"Thanks...um...you look great too."

"Sweet-talker. Get over here."

It was prolonged and vigorous, and Ryan found himself fantasizing about his mother almost immediately. Their first time was missionary, and even though he was lying on Trish, all he could see was his mother's beautiful eyes staring into his as she begged him to seed her, to breed her, to fuck the first of many children into her; the second was from behind, his fingers wrapped in Trish's blonde hair while he imagined Jess' ginger locks (or were they chocolate brown?); the last time was her shoulders on the bed with her ass in the air while he did his best to pile-drive her through the mattress and she told him that this was such an amazing position to get pregnant.

When they were done and lying in a sweaty heap on soaked sheets, Trish curled herself around him and chuckled. "Wow. I knew you had a thing for your mom, but..."

Ryan jerked away. "W-what?"

"What?"

"What did you say..."

"Your mom," Trish repeated. "You know, how you started calling me mom three minutes in and kept doing it the whole time?"

Ryan gaped. He had no memory of that whatsoever -- but then, as he looked back, he had no real memory of Trish either. In his memory the whole morning had been spent with his mother. I should be panicking at this. Go ahead, panic. Why am I not panicking? Finally he gave a sheepish shrug and said, "Sorry."

"Don't apologize!" she laughed, nudging him playfully. "It's hot, and she obviously feels the same as you do."

"...really?" OBVIOUSLY?!?

"Ever since you saved that kid, she's been eye-fucking you," Trish grinned, tweaking his nipple. "I can't blame her, I've wanted to fuck you since then too. Well, I wanted to fuck you before that. And I finally got to."

"Uh...yeah, you did."

"Has she?"

"No!"

She laughed. "The way you said that makes me think you've done something with her though."

"No. Just in my dreams."

"Hers too, I bet," Trish said.

That's a bet you'd win. "Listen, you aren't going to tell anybody about this, are you?"

"About you and me? Or you and her?"

"Yes."

"Believe it or not, I can keep a secret when I have to. Yours are safe with me."

He wasn't sure that was true, but he had no choice but to trust her. "Thanks." Pause, then, "Want to go again?"

"Jesus Christ, kid, you want to kill me? My twat's already battered purple. Of course I want to go again."

"How long after you return home do you go back to work, Jess?" Felicia, the British wife, asked.

"I'm due back in the office one week to the day after we touch down," Jess sighed. "Not looking forward to it."

"It's going to be hard to go back to the office," Erika, the German, sighed. "So many belligerent men and no Pacific Ocean to swim in."

"And no mai tais on the deck at 1:15 in the afternoon," Trish said. She was well into her second.

Jess glanced at the Bostonian. She had appeared much later than usual today, and the fact that she was walking like a saddlesore cowboy told Jess all she wanted to know about her previous whereabouts. "It's the deadlines I'm not looking forward to. I like everyone I work with, I enjoy the work, the commute is tolerable -- but I've gotten very used to not having anything on my docket that I need to get done yesterday."

"It's so hard to be away from Erik," sighed Vilde, the Dane. "I don't mind about going back to work or any of the rest. I just wish I didn't have to sleep alone."

"My husband is staying here when I go back," Trish laughed, "and I don't intend to sleep alone a single night. We all have options."

"Unfortunately, not all of us as as morally flexible as you," Jess said dryly.

"Girlie, I'm flexible in allll kinds of ways," Trish replied with a leer. This was greeted by a generalized eye-roll and two of the women making a jerk-off motion. "Quiet bitches, you envy my acrobatics. Anyway Jess isn't going home alone, she's got a big, strapping son to take care of her."

Jess blushed so red she almost burst into flames. "Not that way!"

"No, but I bet he gives amazing hugs," Trish sighed. "Imagine coming home to that every day. I admit, I'd be tempted."

A round of "Ewws!" rose right on time from the table; everyone joined except Jess, who was looking very worried indeed.

There was a timelessness about the beach parties. On a tropical island the weather was the same every night; Ranu Ratu was close enough to the equator that sunset never varied much; the faces never changed; the drinks were the same, the music, the dancing, the chatting. The Beach Party was, the Beach Party is, the Beach Party shall be. Amen.

"I don't understand it," Lexy was saying to Ryan.

"I don't understand why you're confused," he answered.

"You don't? Really?"

"I'm eighteen!" he said, spreading his hands helplessly. "I'm supposed to think about sex all day!"

"Yes, but not do it all day. That thing should be worn down to a nub by now!"

"Oh, you're exaggerating."

"Six hours straight, chico. How many times did you come?"

"I dunno...seven or eight. Why, how many times did you?"

"That's not the point," she told him. "I'm worried about you. You weren't like this when we started. It's not normal. If you had one day like this then fine, but it's every day, every time I see you lately. I almost feel like I need a break from you just to heal."

Ryan frowned. He had fucked Trish for almost four hours straight, taken a short break for food, and gone after Lexy just as hard for even longer -- and almost the whole time he'd thought of his mother. It was all fucked up, but even aside from that, how long could it go on just from a physical standpoint? He was young and in great shape and he felt better than he ever remembered feeling. But as much sweat as he'd been working up and as much cum as he'd been shooting, he should be a desiccated husk by now.

Magic. That fucking ceremony again. This is insane, and she's right, I need to get it under control or it's going to drive me nuts. "I have any idea. Tomorrow we'll take one of the boats and sail out to the other islands. We can stay out until it gets dark. And I promise I'll keep it in my pants the whole time."

She eyed him dubiously. "All day?"

"Except to pee over the side."

"Promise?"

He held up three fingers together. "Scout's Honor."

She peered at the hand sign and considered for a moment, then said, "I have no idea what that means."

"It means I promise. It's the most sacred vow I can give. If I lie, a herd of Boy Scouts appear from thin air and beat the crap out of me."

She giggled. "And what will these boys do to me?"

"Help you cross the street safely, whether you want to or not."

"They sound dangerous, these boys."

"Oh yeah, American cities are plagued by roving gangs of scouts dragging old people from one side of the street to the other to get their 'Helping the Elderly' merit badges."

"I'm glad we don't have scouts in Spain, they sound like a terrible menace."

"What? You don't have scouts in Spain?"

"We do but there aren't very many of them and everyone thinks they're Falangistas."

"What does that mean?"

"It means they don't get invited to the fun parties."

"Poor Scouts."

"Yeah. Want something to drink?"

"I can get it -- "

"No no," she said, raising a hand. "After what you did to me today I need to walk it off. What do you want?"

"Pineapple juice with a splash of rum?"

"I'll be right back," she told him.

Moments before, only thirty yards away, Jess and Paul had been dancing. Dancing in sand required (and indeed allowed for) no particular skill, so they both looked pretty good doing it. She'd dragged Paul up to their room when he'd gotten back from work, but the only orgasm she could get was imagining herself up on the kitchen counter at home, staring into her son's eyes as he pumped her full of his baby. In a few days she and Ryan would be in that kitchen for real, and Lord help the whole family if the brain trust of these islands couldn't fix the problem before then.

"The main slowdown is materials," Paul was telling her. "These islands don't make one single thing that's going into the resort, so it all has to be shipped in from abroad. That means we're at the mercy of a shipping clerk in Guangzhou or a customs official in Auckland to stay on schedule. And every single person of that type is an officious little prick who has to justify their existence by randomly delaying cargoes."

Jess considered that. "So you're saying that..."

"I'm saying we might finish on schedule or a year late, and I have no idea when," he shrugged.

"Well thank God they're paying you masses of money. And that this resort will have your name on the lips of everyone who wants to build a hotel anywhere in the world."

"Once I get back, though, I am not taking another job that takes me away from you for months or years on end," he said, slipping his arms over her shoulders and letting his hands dangle against her shoulder blades. "They could offer me a billion dollars or three and it wouldn't be enough."

"That had better be a promise," she told him seriously. "It's hard without you. It sucks. I know this was the break your career needed, but looking at going home without you and not seeing you until Christmas..."

"I know, babe. It's hard for me too."

But you aren't living with someone you're being magically pulled toward every single day. I don't know how long my will is going to hold up. Even now sometimes I just want to give in -- what's it going to be like when it's just me and him? She put a smile on her face, said, "I know," and buried her head against his chest.

A moment later he chuckled. "Looks like Kim might be getting busy tonight."

Jess glanced over to where their daughter was dancing with one of the construction overseers, a good-looking man from Japan named Matsuo -- well, perhaps less dancing than dry humping while sucking his tongue down her throat. Kim had mostly ignored the guys on this trip, preferring instead to work on the tan that had her as brown as a coconut, but she was twenty-one years old and as entitled to a night of fun as anyone else. "Good for her. She's been pretty uptight lately, getting her eyes rolled back in her head will do her good."

Paul burst out in laughter. "That has to be the least appealing description of sex I have ever heard. You make her sound like a shark feeding."

"Well look at her!" Jess giggled. "She looks like she's trying to swallow his head."

"I'm sure she will...oh wait, you meant the one on his neck. Yes, that too."

Jess giggled again and slapped his chest playfully. They had always been a sex-positive couple and had striven to be that way with her kids too, no matter how stressful that occasionally was. The way Jess looked at it, this trip was a vacation for the whole family, a time to relax and have fun, and sex should be a part of that. It would certainly be fun if she was riding Ryan's cock right now --

DAMN IT!

"Hey, I'm going to go get us some drinks. What's your poison?" Paul asked.

"Bushwhacker."

"Man, you love getting your bush whacked," he quipped, turning to head for the bar as she giggled behind his back.

There was a line at the bar, one that Lexy had just joined. He would be a while. Jess looked around the beach for someone to talk to --

Ryan. Alone. They needed to avoid talking to each other. They needed to avoid each other, period. She needed to go find someone else to talk to, one of the Frauen-Trinkclub, someone safe, someone she wouldn't do anything scandalous with. But she walked as she thought and suddenly she was right next to her son and saying, "Hey babe."

Ryan looked up and smiled. "Hey back. I was just thinking about you."

"Mmm, I'm sure you were," she said with a grin. "Anything you want to share?"

He looked around to see if anyone was close enough to overhear a whisper, and when he saw that there wasn't, he leaned in close and said, "I was just thinking how good it would feel to have the head of my cock hit the back of your throat."

"Oooh!" she said, taking his arm. "I like that. Tell me more."

"I was thinking how hungry you are to suck me off. And you are, aren't you?"

"Of course I am, you know that. Every hole I have wants your cock in it. And I bet those big, beautiful balls of yours have sooo much cum for your mom, don't they?"

"I'd drown you. You couldn't handle it."

Her eyes narrowed. "That sounds like a challenge, mister. I don't back down from challenges."

"Is that right?" he grinned. "I'm willing if you are."

"Willing and eager as fuck," she breathed, letting her warm exhalation dance over his neck.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's head to that grove of trees over there, it's sheltered and Kim hasn't already taken it."

"No."

"No? Where do you want to go instead?"

"Nowhere," Jess said, hear heart hammering like it wanted to rip out of her chest. "Whip it out."

"Right here? Everyone will see."

"Do you care what they think?" Because she certainly did not.

"Dad and Kim will see."

She shrugged. "They're going to find out I'm your cum-hungry little fuckslut sooner or later. I mean, it's going to be hard to hide my belly when you start fucking me pregnant. They might as see it with their own eyes."

"Makes sense to me," he said with a smile as he undid his shorts, and a moment later they and his boxers were around his knees as his cock stood out, hard and proud, from his body.

Jess nibbled her lip for a moment, then grinned and sank to her knees in the sand. She wrapped her hand around his thick shaft -- her fingers couldn't close all the way -- and held it up to inspection. It was perfect, and she extended her tongue and licked along the underside from the base of the shaft to the crown and then back down again. Her son's cock tasted wonderful.

"What the hell?" said the Canadian engineer Brian Scott as he glanced over and saw what was happening. "Mrs. McCullen is sucking her son's cock!"

He had been talking to Nita Garza (Lexy's mom), who looked over and said in an astonished voice, "Wow. Wow! What a shameless whore!"

"You can do better than that, Jess," Trish Hendricks said with a chuckle. "If you're going to be an incest slut, the least you can do is gag on his cock."

Trish was right, of course, and Jess felt a little ashamed that she'd had to have the obvious pointed out to her. She planted a kiss on the tip of Ryan's dick as an apology, and then opened her mouth and began to swallow every inch. It was big -- Paul's wasn't nearly this size, and in fact she hadn't had one this big since before she'd met the man who would become her husband -- but she was a trouper, and an incest slut besides, and she worked her way down until her lips were closed against Ryan's pelvis and her throat was spasming on his shaft.

"Fuck, mom, your mouth is amazing," Ryan breathed, brushing her ginger hair back from her face so he could see her eyes. "Why haven't we been doing this all along?"

Jess had no good answer, and anyway it was rude to talk with her mouth so very, very full. Instead she massaged his shaft with her tongue and throat for several long seconds before she began bobbing her head on it, taking it to the hilt before easing everything out of her mouth except the tip. She was tasting precum, and it was a thrilling flavor that she knew she could never get enough of, just like she knew Ryan would never have enough of her.

"Mom?" Kim's voice came. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Her daughter sounded curiously distressed and Jess couldn't quite imagine why, though she suspected there was a good reason that she had just forgotten in all the excitement.

"What does it look like, Kim?" Ryan asked. "She's sucking me off. You'd better get used to it too, because she's going to be doing it all the time from now on."

"I can't believe this shit," Kim muttered. "Dad is gonna be so pissed when he sees this."

That was probably true, though at the moment Jessica couldn't figure why that ought to matter to her. It certainly didn't matter as much as making her boy feel good! She took him down to the root again and reveled in the pleased grunt he made.

A crowd had gathered now, people she'd known for the whole time she'd been here. The Frauen-Trinkclub, their husbands and boyfriends, the desk man from the hotel, all of them staring and talking. Some of their comments were dismayed, some shocked, some (like Trish's) admiring of her and her son's boldness to do this right in front of everyone. Jess didn't pay any of them very much mind, because all her attention was focused on getting her son off...and he was getting close.