Their Invincible Love Ch. 06

Raul carries Daisy in his arms. Her legs gracefully dangle from her knees. Her left hand encircles his neck. Craning her neck, she gazes constantly at her son's dreamy eyes in the semi-darkness. On her tilted-supine position, her solid breasts stand on their wide base and her nipples are pointed toward his eyes.

They have never been so close. Daisy's lips touch the creases at his armpits. It's a motherly kiss-like touch. But it's also an intimate sexual act. She loves the smell of her son's labor, dedicated for her depraved pleasure. She touches the cringes at his left armpit with the tip of her tongue. She laps across the cringes lovingly. The lingual petting increases her sexual hunger and she pushes her tongue across the cringes and tastes his sweat in the hair under his arm.

Only now she understands fully why her son likes to make love to her armpits with his tongue. It's her fetish, as much as it's his. His sex must respond to her scent the same way as her clitoris is responding to his scent. It's arousing her so serenely that she can make love to his armpits with her tongue and lips for hours. She understands that the dormant cause of this fetish is love between them, not only for their incestuous bondage, but for many commonalities they nurture together in their life, Daisy as an intellectual teacher and Raul as a devout student. The tender sex between her legs has not stopped raining. But it rains now even the more as she drenches her son's underarm with her oral fluid while she eats his sweat and plays with his nipples.

"Ham, your Suha has never been so aroused in her life," Daisy says as Raul has gently put his mother on her bed. He switches on the three dim-lights.

The dim-lights Daisy bought a few months after their first incestuous coitus. In the mixture of these three lights of three different colors, they find each other in a dreamland. Neither mother nor son forget that tonight their incestuous bed is Ham's chamber on Noah's Ark. The dim-lights produce a semblance of gloominess which helps them think that they are on Noah's Ark under thousand clouds and their chamber is lit with some prehistoric candles.

"My boy, however horny am I, be gentle to me tonight. Never forget that you are going to fuck your mother for the first time in your life knowing that she is your mother. This is the first time I am going to be fucked by my son knowing that my son knows that he is fucking his mother. Tonight is special, my boy. Cultivate it to the maximum of your ability. Touch me as if I'm a fragile flower. Think I'm an eighteen years old virgin, has never been touched by a man. Come to me, my son; kiss me as I have taught you how to kiss a teenage girl. Then make love to me. Think that you are on pilgrimage; your ultimate destination is your mother's womb."

Raul forgets his aroused manhood as his mother urges him to fuck her. Daisy never speaks from her throat. She utters every syllable from inside her being. Any sensible man can fall in love with her only for the depth of her tongue. But nothing of it can be compared to the way she has just urged him to make love to her. Every word has been released from the deepest layer of her soul and every word floated like a mythical bubble from the deepest pit of the seabed.

Raul's eyes are wet from the passion she has inspired in him. He's aware that he has not had a climax for long three days and his cock is not accustomed to this tortured abstention since their first incestuous fuck. But this is also not a time for animal orgasms. His mother has made it clear that tonight is for the most sublime lovemaking of their taboo life. He has decided to forgo a banal climax for their lovemaking. He has such control on him mind and body that his formerly cum-crazy cock has now receded to a semi-erect position.

"For you, Mother," he says holding her both feet across her toes.

"My life is for you, MOTHER." Raul brings his mother's feet together.

Two most beautiful feminine big-toes -- slender and graceful -- of the world touch each other. He touches his mother's toenails, polished by an invisible Armani nail-polish, with the pads of his thumbs. He washes his nostrils with their humid air, breathing in deeply. His brain receives the first signal of the most challenging lovemaking of his life from the lemon-scent of his mother's big-toes. His mouth waters. His lips twitch convulsively and become wet.

"My sex is for you, MOM." He slips his lips along the smooth texture of his mother's big toes.

Daisy pushes a pillow under her head and looks at the ashen shade on her son's lush black hair. She feels like unclipping her hair, but decides to do it when he looks. Every pour of her body stands at ease at her son's attention on her big toes. Queen Sheba had not had this thrill the night 121 Pharaohnic slaves kissed her toes ordained by King Solomon.

'How come my boy's lips are so wet for his mother's toes,' Daisy wonders.

"You are my perfect son, BABY," Daisy says. Her voice is husky. "Touch the flesh under mommy's nail with your tongue. Mommy promises to reciprocate someday."

Raul is enthralled by the richness of his mother's calf muscles. They are feminine, yet they have some masculine stoutness. He touches them with the same possessiveness as he does her ass and breasts. He strokes her calves and kisses the hollowness at her knees. Daisy helps him by bending her legs.

"Mom, I want to touch your legs when you are dressed, say, when you are in a long pleated skirt"

"Why son? Don't I attract you when I am naked?"

"I haven't said it mother. You are more graceful when you are naked. Your naked beauty is too much for me and my heart aches in love for you. Besides, I feel in full possession of you when you are naked. Sometimes, I wish you were naked in front of all the time. Thus I would never want to go outside, or look at other beautiful things of the world. When you stand facing the window and I look at your naked ass, I feel I am the luckiest guy in the world. But I want to do naughty things with you. I want to grope you in public. I want to see the color on your face when I pull on a tuft of your pubic hair, or dab a finger along your pussy-lips or just pinch your clitoris when strangers swarm around."

A sly grin spread along Daisy's curved lips. She memorizes her son's wishes. She wants to do something for him this moment. But she also has some stern feel in her heart.

"You are growing, my son," she says. "Perhaps faster than I want."

Daisy's admonition takes Raul aback. She is a respectable lady, he thinks. He regrets hurting her sense of decency. How many mothers allow their sons to love them the way she allows her? His hands mechanically withdraw from her body. He drops his eyes in embarrassment and they fall on the glow of her youthfully heavy thighs.

No charm on earth or paradise can be compared to what Daisy's two confident thighs can spell. They are like two horizontal columns of sand dunes that have been burned and smoothened by sunlight and hot air over last six millenniums since the cavemen engraved the crying cow in the cave in Sahara. The long shiny dunes meet at a Saharan oasis, her Garden of Eden, which has its own spring to quench the centuries old thirst of a man. The Garden looks to have been ravaged by a whirlwind. Daisy's cum-matted pubic hair, half-swollen clitoris, and obscenely peeking cunt-lips inspire passion in Raul's heart as a post-hurricane American village does compassion in its Sherriff. His lips twitch and his tongue reels to re-plant every tree in her pubic garden, to clear every bit of debris here and there, and to heal all physical and psychological wounds in her netherlands.

His eyes hover on the Garden, and strays onto her thighs. They are glowing in the dim lights as sand dunes do in a full-moon night of August.

What if she covers them this moment and forever, Raul think of Daisy's thighs? What if she asks him not to touch her again and decides to climb the bed of the president of the republic? He cannot go out on the street tomorrow morning and cry that his mother, or sister as she is known to the outside world, let him fuck her until yesterday and suddenly imposed a ban which he cannot endure. Raul's frustration can be measured by only the depth of his love for his mother.

Daisy watches Raul like a hawk and doesn't miss a moment of it. She wants him as a man, a virile and strong man who would possess her mind and body. But she doesn't want to lose the son she has needed to have nineteen years. Now that she has seen how much she is able to embarrass and humiliate him with only one single statement, she knows for sure that she will never lose him as her son. Her thighs, whatever graceful they are, are just two thighs of a 35 years old woman. Yet, how lustfully he admires them.

"I'm sorry, baby," she says. She splays her right leg and throws it on his other side and Raul finds himself between her legs. This way, being open to her son between her legs, she feels more naked, more wicked, and sexier. Stooping a little toward him, she holds his hands in hers and put them on her inner thighs. She presses his palms on her flesh until she feels his fingers mark on her skin. As she feels from his touch that he has regained his confidence, she releases his hands.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, son," she says, without faking emotion.

Raul will never forget the graceful movement of his mother's left leg when she threw it on his left side. It was supposed to be a vulgar act but she has performed a piece of sublime art. He kneads the softer parts of her inner thighs looking at her pointed breasts.

Daisy touches his chin, makes him look at her eyes. She stares at his eyes for several pregnant moments. She then roared with an indulgent laughter.

The laughter is the categorical proof of Daisy's devilish capacity to arouse her son. She holds his neglected cock in her right hand. "I love to hold my baby's fish when it is semi-erect. It fills mommy's fist perfectly. But what I like most is its throbs against my palm as it keeps growing. You don't know, my son, how it is to be aware every second of it that it is getting harder for me, because I'm naked in front of you."

"Do you want to see for yourself how the growing of your cock excites mother's pussy?" Her voice is motherly. Without waiting for his answer, she grabs his right hand with her free hand. She gathers all his fingers in her grip except his index finger which becomes a pointer. She presses the pad of his index finger on the hood of her growing clitoris.

"You can do some naughty things to mother when she is naked also," Daisy says.

Raul's alert sense doesn't miss the touch of soft hairs around her clitoris.

"The arousal of mommy's love bud is synchronized with baby's fish," she says.

Looking at his eyes, she scrapes the tender hood her clitoris with his nail. She draws the pad of his finger along her outer lips, lingering expertly to give him the silky feel of her dry outer lips. She does not lose her eye-contact with his for a second. She revels in the convulsive whimper from her son's throat and dabs the controlled digit of her son a few millimeters and her softer inner labia clasps around it.

The weather there is not wet but humid. She saws his finger along her slit to give him the feel of her texture. "How is it, baby?" she asks.

"Fuck, Sexy," Raul groans.

"And momma is not dressed. She is naked." Daisy teases.

"How is it to touch your mother's labia?" She presses his finger firmly into her cunt until his other fingers lodge on her opening.

Raul feels as if he is touching his mother's pussy for the first time in his life. It's in fact true to some extent. Not a moment of this depraved erotic act he doesn't forget that he is touching his mother. There is no feigning, no grudge in his heart. The most recent knowledge that she is his mother is making every moment of this intimate depravity thousand times more enjoyable. "Feel baby, feel how mother's pussy spasms around your finger. Feel how hot my cunt is for you. Feel it discretely how it is seeping wetness and drowning your finger."

Wetness wells up from inside and soaks Daisy's outer labia. She draws her son's finger out and slither it across from one lip to another, to let him know that she is completely ready to be fucked.

"Am I a wicked mother, son?" she asks, kissing his her-juice-coated finger.

Raul's cock crosses the limit of its usual girth and length and reaches an unprecedented size during his mother's foreplay at her pussy with his finger. Daisy tightens her grip around his cock. It's hard like a hot iron rod textured with blood vessels, each one distended almost a millimeter. A large drop of pre-cum dabbles on her finger. Her pussy erupts copious juices at the extent of her son's arousal. One after another wave of hot mobile spills on her thighs, drops on the bed-sheet, and spreads across her assess. Squirming on the wet sheet, the crooked woman separates her ass-cheeks until the rose-bud of her anus touches the wetness beneath it.

Touching her juices with her anus is only a secondary objective. Her primary objective is to open her pussy slit for the forthcoming penetration by her son's cock.

Mother and son make a new spell of eye-contact and exchange the intuition that the son has never been harder and the mother has never been wetter.

"Three days, isn't it, baby?" Daisy says, holding his wiry scrotum with her left hand. She feels as if she is the richest woman of the world with her right hand filled with her son's cock and her left hand with her son's scrotum.

"My baby's balls keep filling for mommy for three days," she says.

Both mother and son look at each other hotly. Both are aware of their situation and know that none will be able to hold it much longer. "Do something naughty or talk something dirty," Daisy urges. "One naughty thing or one dirty word," she implores. "And you will be fucking mother right away."

Raul attacks one erect nipple of his mother with his lips. She almost smashes his scrotum as he bites on her nipple.

"Attacking your mother's nipples is the sonliest act on God's earth," she reproaches. "Had you known one single naughtiness, you would have attacked mommy's ass." Her hands move like American cruise missiles to settle her son's hands on her assess. But the most creative human goddess of carnal sexuality also has certain moments of failure. Instead of her son's cockhead, his scrotum lodges on her sleek puss-lips. But there is no limit of the intellectual mother's wickedness. With her outer labia, she saws along his taut scrotum, wetting the thin skin with her oil. She withdraws as the sharp hairs on his balls cut through her softer inner labia.

"This is your just punishment, you witch," Raul says with mock anger.

"Wait, baby, wait," Daisy says. "Mommy will reach your cockhead with her cunt gash in a moment." Supporting her weight on her hands, she raises her hips at the level of his navel where his erect cockhead reaches. She touches his seeping cockhead with her seeping labia. Raul holds her waist and attempts to force her down along his length. She is prompt to forestall him with her one hand.

"Don't you dare, you bastard," she threats.

Raul gives in with meek submission. She teases him several seconds by sawing on his cockhead with her opening. A few lines of her hot lava climbs down his neglected shaft, as rain water slides down along the trunk of a forest tree.

"Patience is the principal means of lovemaking," Daisy says. Her voice is soothing and indulgent.

"You have to feel it in minuscule. You have to feel how mother's wet labia momentarily grip around the raised line of your cockhead, how they scrape all the way from the opening of your cockhead to the hairy base. You have to angle in calculated ways so that mother's clitoris grazes against it. Then you have to feel how mommy's pussy walls grip and release your cock, how it spasms in ecstasy. Most of all, you must feel the spasms at the threshold of mother's climax."

Daisy is firmly speared on his son's ramrod. No prophet would remain a prophet if he saw with what agility his mother has slipped her bent knees on his either sides.

"A son must endure his mother's weight when she allows him the pleasure of penetrating her," Daisy says.

Raul is unable to describe the feel of her elastic asses on his thighs. She's given him every feel she described, with expert movement of her pussy until his cockhead reached the closed door of her womb. She has successfully made him learn how a woman's womb opens and kisses the tip of a rightly-sized rigid cock.

"Now play with mother's pubic hair," she invites, pressing her breasts into his chest. "You play with mine. I'll play with yours."

Their fingers touch as they attempt to grope each other's pubic hairs. His mother takes a finger of his in hers and guides it to the place where her clitoris is snugly grazing at the hairy base of his cock.

"In this position, with this amount of pressure on mother's love bud, mommy gets maximum thrill, but no urge to cum instantly," she explains, snaking the pad of his finger across her clitoral hood.

Raul loves the way his mother rolls a tuft of his pubic hair between his fingers. He reciprocates by rolling a tuft from her forest between his fingers.

"My baby's hairs are sturdy like coconut cords," Daisy reproaches.

Raul responds by pulling several of his mother's pubic hair. Her tummy jerks in pain.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of to have sturdy pubic hair," Daisy says in submission. "Let momma see if she can make use of their sturdiness."

With sophisticated movements of her two fingers, she succeeds in tying three of her hairs with her son's one hair. She rolls the tiny knot between his fingers and grins at her son.

He looks stupidly at her grin. She draws her tummy slightly backward to make him know what she has done.

Raul cries in pain. "You are devil, mother," he says, reciprocating her sexy grin.

"If you persevere, you can put your mother in a sexual bondage that no kinky president has ever dreamed of. How it is, son? How it is if you tie mother with your pubic hair to her pubic hair? Think there is nobody to separate us. Your cock will be inside mother's cunt when it is hard. When it is soft, it will slump and sleep at mother's breezy opening. Think we are in the deepest floor of a cruise ship in the Indian Ocean. Mother and son are frolicking in the oceanic atmosphere. You have tied mother to your pubic hair. Our ship sank. You are swimming mother toward the coast. Mommy is holding your neck. Your cock has shrunk to a one or one and half inches tiny sausage, sticking into mother's opening. Or mommy will radiate heat and son's cock will never shrink, however biting the oceanic cold is. See how many opportunities are there. And finally you could save mommy's life because mother's pubes are sealed with son's pubes through their pubic threads."

Raul often thinks that Daisy has more imagination than any post-modern novelist. He is glad that she always proves his guess to be right.

Positioning herself firmly on her son's cock, Daisy holds Raul's face and shoves it into her left armpit.

"You perverted boy, you showed mother the pleasure of being licked on her armpits."

At the peak of his ministration of his mother's armpit, Raul gets the pull from the knot between their pubic cords. The incestuous couple have not thought they would face this dilemma. Raul reprimands his mother as he suffers several sharp bites on his skin while he tries to disengage himself. His mother is in a safe position because she is sitting on his lap.

"Son, take me in your lap, keeping me speared on you. Then find some scissors and cut the knot," she suggests.