The Island of I Ch. 03

Antonia was naked, her body gleaming in the flickering light of a dozen candles, her body spread out wide on the bed, hands clamped around the rails of her headboard, back arching and breasts rolling as Hector's dark haired head bobbed between her legs, his erection bobbing between his thighs as he knelt there and orally pleased his mother.

Mother gave a whispery gasp and tried to back away, but bumped against me, her hips pressing against my legs as I brought my hands up to her upper arms and held her there to gaze in shock and wonder at the sight of another mother and son in the throes of passion.

In her ear, I said in a barely audible voice. "Watch, Mother...see what they have...what they share." Mother clamped a hand over her mouth, not wanting a cry to betray our voyeurism. Antonia moaned again, one hand releasing the headboard to drop onto a massive breast, fingers plucking at her swollen nipple as she keened, "Oh, Hector...my love...so sweet!"

She rolled her hips, bucking her pussy against Hector's busy mouth. He noisily slurped at his mother's heavy flowing juices, making a chuckling, pleased sound as he licked and tongued his mother. Suddenly, Antonia's feet pushed upwards, making her whole body come up off the bed and she sobbed, "Making Mama CUMMMMM!" as an orgasm swept her away, opening her eyes to look with furious love at her son between her thighs.

Hector intensified his efforts, anxious to spur his mother's orgasm to new heights with his mouth and tongue, relenting only when Antonia's body collapsed back onto the mattress, making them both bounce, her hands clawing at his shoulders. Like a lithe jungle cat, Hector seemed to move upwards and pounce on his mother in a single fluid motion. Mother shivered in my arms as she saw his long, hard cock clearly for a brief moment before he expertly slipped it between her glistening lips and buried himself completely in Antonia's motherly pussy.

A small cry of shock escaped Mother's mouth, but was lost in the almost deafening shriek of Hector's mother as he filled her with his erect penis. I felt my mother sag back against me, only to stiffen as she felt my hardness pressing into her backside – only my slacks and the thin material of her dress separating our bodies. She shivered as we watched Hector begin to fuck Antonia with a series of rapid, brutal strokes, his mother grunting like a rutting beast each time his cock sank into her womb to the hilt.

Antonia threw her arms around Hector's back, nails slowly dragging across his skin, leaving light, bloody scratches while her legs rose up, spreading wide until they stood high in a 'V' before finally curling around his hips, heels digging into his buttocks to urge her son to fuck her harder and deeper. Mother's hand never left her mouth, stifling any moans she might make, although I could hear her breathing – ragged whistling through her nose.

Almost without thinking, I slowly moved my right hand from her arm across her chest to cup her breast, thrilled to find her nipple swollen and throbbing with blood. She ground herself against me as I slowly and gently tugged and pinched her erect nub between my thumb and forefinger. As the scent of human sweat, infused with the aroma of pussy wafted through the partially open door, I felt Mother's backside begin to move in time with Antonia's and Hector's sensual dance of incestuous love, her covered buttocks rubbing against the bulge in my pants.

Hector drove his cock deep and moved forward, grinding his crotch against his mother's mound as he sought out Antonia's lips, smearing her face with her juices as he kissed her passionately, the wet noises of their joined mouths blending with the wet noises of their joined genitals to create erotic music as we watched.

Their bodies rolled and writhed together, a more subtle and carnal movement of making love interwoven with Antonia occasional gasps of "Fuck me, Hector...fuck your mother, Fuck me and love me as I love you!"

Then Antonia began to convulse underneath her son, almost throwing him off as orgasm suddenly and viciously swept over her. With sweat pouring off him, Hector rose up and began to rapidly thrust his cock in and out of his mother as she began to shriek those same strange words as she had on earlier occasions, "MATRE TIAMBO UN UMANO UN ESTASIUM VICTRE DIABLAS!" With the words came the sensation of powerful energy sweeping not only Antonia's body, but the entire room, washing over us and enhancing our own desires and emotions.

Antonia clawed at her son's back as her orgasm swelled inside her, her breasts bouncing violently about as her, sobbing as carnal ecstasy overwhelmed her, her screams becoming shriller as she cried out, "MATRE TIAMBO UN UMANO UN ESTASIUM VICTRE DIABLAS!" again and again. Hector's buttocks were a blur of motion as he frantically fucked his mother until he let out that now familiar bull's roar signaling climax and plunged deep into her wet, clasping pussy and began to ejaculate, his testicles rising with each burst of hot semen into her womb.

Mother was quivering violently against me, her hand falling away as she half whispered and half moaned, "Oh my god!" We watched as mother and son slowed down their convulsions and gasps of orgasmic delight, becoming a heavy breathing single entity of tangled limbs and joined bodies. Antonia rolled her hips one last time and Hector's still erect penis slipped partially out of her, displaying his seed mingled with her juices. His mother moaned happily as he adjusted his position and sank deep inside her once again.

The sight seemed to overwhelm Mother and with a nearly silent cry, she broke free of my embrace and stumbled back up the hallway. I quietly closed the door and followed, wanting to keep Mother in my arms and worried that it had all been too much for her. Mother moved quickly and quietly despite being unsteady on her feet, wobbling back and forth between the narrow walls of the hallway and the one leading to our staircase. It was only as she ascended the stairs that the sobs broke free and I rushed after her as I heard her crying, one hand at her mouth and one hand gripping the railing.

I caught up with Mother just shy of her door, reaching out to touch her shoulder as she fumbled at her bedroom door knob. She turned at my touch, a mad mixture of emotions on her face, tears running down her face. Words tumbled from her mouth in a chaotic jumble as if there was so much to say and she couldn't decide what to focus on. "That was...they were...my god, is that what we would..." Mother paused and looked at me with both horror and longing. "John, my god, is that what you want us to become?"

Her hands were pressed against my chest as if she were claiming me while preparing to push me away. "They are lovers, Mother," I said in a rush, "Just as we are meant to be lovers!"

Mother shook her head, looking away from me as if to deny that we had such desires within ourselves. "Mother and son...that is incest, madness." She reached out to caress my face. "I love you, John, but this...what they were doing, we...its wrong."

"It's not wrong, Mother!" I said almost in anger. My hands were on her upper arms and I was squeezing them so hard, I probably left marks. "Antonia and Hector share love...a great love...a love that can exist between us as well if we're brave enough to seize it. I love you, Mother!"

"Mother trembled in my grip and shook her head even as she placed fingers over my mouth to shush me. "What you...we want – it's a love that demands too much. It would consume us, son. We would be burnt to a crisp if we yielded to it. We already have crossed too many lines. John, we cannot." Mother shook her head and whimpered, "I am your mother, John."

Passion, infused with anger swelled within my heart till I thought I might simply explode. "Then let us burn, Mother! I'd rather die in a carnal embrace with you, consumed by our love than live a thousand years without you in my arms!" I kissed Mother then, hard and violently, forcing my tongue into her mouth to find hers. She relented a little, kissing me back for long, sweet seconds, her tongue seeking out mine and returning my passion. Then she was pushing me back, her hand finding the door knob and opening it, her other hand pushing me back as she pleaded, "No...not now, John. I love you so much, but I cannot...I need to think."

Her eyes held such pain and need that they stayed me from pushing into Mother's bedroom and taking her there and then. I looked at her, holding out my arms as I wordlessly implored her, but Mother shook her head, blew me a kiss and said, "I love you, son," before closing the door – the sound of the lock turning sending a stabbing pain through my heart.

I do not know how long I stood before her door, hoping and praying she would open it again. Finally, feeling defeat weighing me down, I retreated to my room, throwing myself on my bed, aching to find solace in sleep, wanting to exorcise the unfulfilled desire and love for my mother from my heart and soul and feeling that without her love, I could not survive.

Sleep was slow in coming and when it did, instead of the carnal dreams of the past nights, it was a tortured sleep – images of Mother reaching out to me yet always just beyond my grasp haunted me until I awoke to the sound of thunder and rain outside my window.

Until finally the grayness of the dawn rose, I sat and listened to the torrential rains fall, the island of the accursed Isprey illuminated often by terrible and jagged bolts of lightning. I brooded over my actions, cursing myself for taking Mother to see Antonia and Hector make love, castigating myself for likely having destroyed our relationship beyond repair.

My fears were not alleviated when I went down for breakfast and found only Antonia in her servant's uniform. She said that Hector was sleeping in – that with the rain and lightning, there would be no working to clear the brush. She also informed me that Mother was in seclusion, taking to her bed. "Missus Halloran informs me she is taken ill again and wishes to not be disturbed," Antonia told me solemnly as she sat breakfast down beside me.

I nodded and sighed before muttering in a defeated tone, "I understand."

Antonia hesitated and then slipped into a chair beside me, her massive, barely restrained breasts brushing my arm, sending a ripple of desire through me that reminding me of how much I wanted my mother.

"I am not sure you were wise in your actions last night, John...ah, such is the rashness of youth," she murmured, reaching out to run her fingers through my hair. "But, I am not sure that it wasn't the right thing to do...to allow your mother to confront the beauty and enormity of the life you both are moving towards."

My face burned with embarrassment as I stared down at my lap and replied, "You knew we were there?"

Antonia chuckled. "Absolutely. I could sense your presence...your desire and lust for each other." She leaned over, her breasts mashing against my arm and whispered into my ear, "I could smell your mother's lust for you, John."

I turned and looked at her, almost startled at the fire burning in her eyes as she smiled at me. If sex could be incarnate, I knew that Antonia was the form that it would take. "Have I ruined things for Mother and me?" I asked plaintively.

Antonia took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I don't know, John. I doubt it. There is a powerful love between you. The poets would name it true love and I believe that true love will never be denied. Perhaps it will be yours and her choice to make...perhaps the choice will be made for you, but in the end, I think you and your mother will know love.

The mysterious woman leaned in and pressed her lips against mine, gently kissing me before rising up to her feet again. Stroking my hair, Antonia said, "For now, be patient, young master. Give your mother time to sort things out." She glanced towards a window as thunder rumbled over us. "Today, rest...there can be no work in this storm. Rest and keep faith. Your mother will find her way to you."

And so the day passed. As the rain poured down in buckets, I whiled away the hours, spending what seemed an eternity on my bed, agonizing over my actions, worried that I had thrown away my chance to know Mother completely as a lover. I sat in the living quarters, reading my Spillane books without comprehending a word, one ear allowed focused on the slightest of sounds coming from my mother's bedroom and hoping she would emerge from her self-imposed isolation.

The rain seemed to be never ceasing – still raining heavily into the night as I took supper with Antonia and Hector and then beyond as they retired to their room and I to mine, envying what I knew would be a night of passionate lovemaking on their part. I started to travel downstairs twice that night to watch them, but could not bring myself to be further reminded of what they shared, but I was bereft of. I masturbated, but could not find release. Even sleep denied me the pleasure of the dark, incestuous dreams of late and I awoke early the next morning to the now constant sounds of thunder and torrential rain.

Again, Hector and I spent the day in idle frustration. We played chess several times, too evenly matched to gain decisive results. Mother again failed to make an appearance and several times I climbed the stairs intending to pound on her door until she opened and yielded herself to me, but always, Antonia's words echoed in my mind, counseling me to be patient and allow things to unfold as they were meant to be.

The highlight of that second rainy day was watching Antonia cow Father into retreat when he emerged in an agitated state, demanding that Hector and I venture into the storm to continue clearing the land. Despite his anxiousness to see his supposed altar unveiled, he retreated quickly when Antonia stormily came to our defense and sent him scurrying back to his study amidst a flurry of curses in English and her native language.

In late afternoon as the gray skies began to darken, Hector summoned me to venture out to the pool where to our amusement and dismay, it had begun to fill with rainwater, giving us a vision of what it might look like when we finally would get it operational. Having scoured nearly all the algae and scum, the rainwater was nearly clear and we both laughed that we might take our first dip into the pool in a day or two...assuming the rain finally ended.

Evening brought no sign of Mother and again, I spent a restless night, filled with lurid thoughts of how Antonia and Hector were spending their night and how badly I wanted the same with my mother. Alas, even my dreams were again bereft of the temporary illusion of Mother and I locked in intimate expressions of love and lust.

The next morning, the rain finally abated just as the sun rose above the ocean horizon. It was with some relief that I was able to walk through the sodden earth alongside Hector to resume our work clearing the brush. After days of bottled up frustration, I attacked the heavy foliage with a vengeance, Hector working silently alongside me, sensing my tense state and letting me take out my frustration on the thick plant growth.

We worked hard and quickly and the sun had not yet reached its zenith when my machete glanced off rock and with a bit of surprise, I realized we had reached Father's longed for altar. We spent less than an hour clearing it of the clinging vines and undergrowth to reveal the rectangular stone work, clearly man made and differing from the surrounding slabs, being comprised of an odd obsidian like and flat surface, raised up perhaps four feet from the ground and being perhaps four feet wide and seven feet in length. Round holes were chiseled through the rock at each corner. On one end were two raised runners, each an inverted 'V', both the same height of maybe a foot and a half.

The surface of the altar was covered in runes, similar to ones drawn on chalkboards in Father's office or sketched out on so many pieces of paper – mostly of them obviously Nordic, but others very much different and somehow disturbing...almost writhing when viewed despite being set in never changing stone.

I finished plucking various tendrils of thorny vines off the altar while Hector went to the house to retrieve Father. I watched with dour amusement as Father practically ran all the way back and then observed him with some concern as he cooed over our discovery, his hands tracing over the runes as he mumbled to himself, sometimes laughing quietly like a man amused by some insane secret. He caressed the raised end of the altar, leaning between them and nodding to himself as he muttered, "So obvious...allowing for better penetration.

Finally, he turned and clapped us both on the back. "Absolutely marvelous, lads!" he said jovially, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and hugging me. His face alight with happiness and I thought him close to tears as he said, "A lifetime of work, John...coming to fruition." He gazed up at the sky as if he could see the stars beyond the sun's illumination. "Tonight, I think...yes, tonight will be perfect for the ceremony."

He clapped me on the back again and said, "Take the rest of the day off, son. Go swimming or something." He turned to Hector and putting his arm around my friend's shoulders, led him off, saying, "There is much to do, my boy...much to do."

I wandered down onto the beach, walking idly along the edge of the surf, thinking of Mother and how so much had passed between us and how much I missed her mere presence. As I walked, a glint of something sparkled off the sun half buried in the sand. I reached down and pulled it out, discovering it was the jeweled comb last night. I fell to my knees with a moan, tears now running down my face as I recalled Mother's face...her expressions of love and desire as we had held each other and yes, touched each other as lovers in the soft light of the full moon. I confess that I wept, both for what we had shared and for all that was yet left undone.

I sat there in the sand, mourning for what I suspected were dashed hopes and dreams until the sun was setting behind me, the light growing dim. I listlessly began my way back to the house only to see Antonia emerge from the kitchen and call my name as I entered the yard.

Antonia looked somewhat grim and foreboding as she looked at me, her eyes dark and unreadable and said, "Time for dinner, John." I nodded forlornly and climbed the steps, stopping as I passed her and she reached out and clamped a hand around my wrist.

"Your mother has come down for dinner, John," she said softly. As hope suddenly swelled in my breast, she crushed it by quickly adding. "She comes at your father's insistence – a celebration in anticipation of his ceremony tonight."

"I...I understand," I muttered and I prepared to move on, but still Antonia held me in place.

"Do not despair, John. Your mother loves you as much as you love her. She...desires you as much as you desire her...maybe even more." She tightened her grip on my arm and made sure I was looking into her eyes as she quietly and seriously intoned, "No matter what happens, never forget your love for her. It is the love that you share that will make you both strong. It is your love that will save you both in the end."

Only then, did she let me go, turning and going inside with me following behind her, a bit mystified at her words, sensing that they were meant to be more than encouragement.

Inside, I found the dining room set up for a celebration. My nostrils were filled with the heavenly scent of many foods perfectly prepared. Father stood at the far end of the table, Mother at the other end. She looked lovely, but reserved, dark circles around her eyes and looking at me as I entered with something akin to both fear and longing. Father beckoned me to a chair beside her and I gave her a chaste kiss on an offered cheek as I slipped by her to sit down. She was dressed most conservatively in a dress of purest white with a puritan like high collar. Somehow, attempting to conceal her delightful attributes made her all the more desirable. I had a keen urge to tug down the collar and kiss the back of her neck below her pinned up hair.