When Johnny Marches Home

All of a sudden mom stopped what she was doing to interject this. I was trying to absorb everything and these comforting words stood on their own.

Mom: "The worst part of that is she did it to a man serving his country; that is the ultimate betrayal. She betrayed you...but you did not betray your comrades. You did not abandon them. They took you away, you did not leave them. It was a situation that they were better off without you. I know they understood...they all contacted me. I swear they did."

Somehow she had to bring my mind back to this evening and us, forgetting for the moment the outside world.

Mom: "Now we both found that what we wanted, what we needed, was always there, right at home. I know that you wanted to make a baby before you left for war, as all men do. That horrible woman put an end to that. I for my part also wanted to have another child before it was too late. I don't know if it is too late, but I know that I want to try. Nothing would make me happier than to give you the baby I want, that you want. Let's give it a try. Maybe, just maybe, by next Christmas, we can have that child. You always wanted to have a Christmas with just your own family. You would watch as I fed the baby, putting his little mouth to work on my mommy nipple. As he suckled my mother's milk, you would whisper and I would nod. You would go to work on the other breast. I would gently stroke the hair of my two best sons as they drank. Then, after you had your fill, you would gently take the satisfied baby and put him to rest. Looking down, we'd both be amazed that you got so big. You would gently lift up your mommy and put her in the center of the bed. Then you would do your very best to make that second baby."

At this point, mom had been keyholing me during most of her little sermon. At the start, I was a defeated and deflated 4 inches with a sack below limp and empty like a new condom. For every minute that she spoke, I grew an inch. At the end, I was again a full, manly ten inches, my testes the size and weight of navel oranges.

I rolled onto my back. Mom was fearful that I was just giving up again. But no, I put mom on top of me and used my strength and determination to move her like I wanted her to move. It was like I was just using her wonderful vagina the way I always dreamt I would. My hands were desperate, unstoppable, almost frantic. Blippity blam, blippity blam, you could hear the slap of her thighs to my thighs as it grew in intensity. Finally, I stopped, holding her bum in my hands in a vise-like grip. Rising up from the beach towel, I extended inside of her as deeply as I could. Then, with all of the pent-up passion of months and months of frustration, I unleashed a torrent, a tsunami of baby-making sperm into her fertile womb. With the patient help of my loving mother, I had regained the status as 'man of the house'. I proved I could still perform the manly duty of pleasuring the woman of the house, and perhaps, making the babies.

We had spent almost an hour out in the sand so far. It was about 2:30am. There were four hours more before sunrise. We beat a hasty retreat, but briefly continued our lovemaking on the outdoor patio of the suite. Exhausted from our efforts done on the shoreline, we almost instantly fell fast asleep, with me inside of her, still hard, still shooting.

The beautiful sun rose over the sea, signifying a new day, with new hopes and dreams. We awoke in the golden sunlight; we had slept together, joined in love and passion, side by side. As the sun made us stir, my mom was surprised to feel me still hard, still deeply inside of her. We kissed, as loving mother and son, husband and wife. We had both fallen asleep hours before, each silently making a prayer. As the mighty sun announced a new day, our dreams were fulfilled, as my loving and eternally beautiful mother and wife conceived our first child.