LOSING CONTROL WITH MOM

A man and a woman sit together at a large desk. A book is opened in front of them. The man is a holding a pen, which hovers above the empty page like drone, ready to strike. He does not yet know how apt that metaphor will be, what kind of forces will be unleashed from the tip of his stylus. The woman lets her head rest on her arms as she closely observes him. She looks bored.

"Where do we begin this time?" she asks.

"I see a quaint British village," he answers her. "Streets of cobblestone. Narrow passages. Ivy on old, crumbling walls. Small houses. The smell of coal. A loving family."

"A son?"

"Of course."

"Again, really? Let me guess: yet another wimp?" she sighs as she says it, her eyes rolling.

The man looks at her, annoyed. "I am trying to get at something fundamental. Something primal. Boy surrenders to deepest hidden passions."

'"You've just read too much Freud. Why can't it be a love between two equals for once? Why are your pages crowded with nerds, virgins, boys trembling at the borders of sexuality? Why can you not write a romance between two adults?"

"Not this time."

"Let me write next time then..."

"Perhaps."

I put down the heavy bags that I had been carrying home through the narrow streets of our town and placed them on the kitchen floor. Finally. Doing groceries for my family was quite a chore. The list was long, the market crowded, and the instructions were, as always, tremendously specific. No regular mushrooms, chestnut mushrooms. No Chinese cabbage but bok choy. I got a remark every other week for buying the wrong kind of walnut, or the wrong brand of olive oil. Hopefully I got it right this time.

"I am home, mom!", I yelled, as I carefully started to unpack the plastic bags in our spacious kitchen. We had one of the largest houses in the street, due to Dad's work at the insurance company. But as spacious as it was, the kitchen was filled completely with trays on which a grid of dough balls was placed. Mom had been busy with a new cooking experiment, something Mexican by the looks of it. I was extra careful not to disturb her culinary experiment, but when I placed the bread into the basket, I accidentally bumped into one of the trays, causing some of the balls to roll over.

Of course, this was exactly the moment for my mother to come into the kitchen.

"Careful there, honey", Mom scolded me, as she suddenly appeared behind me, took the bread out of my hands, gently shoved me aside and took over unpacking the groceries. Mom was a voluptuous woman, and once she had made her presence known, one could hardly escape it. Her energy filled up the room instantly. Her straight brown hair hung just over her shoulders, usually tied in a ponytail but now loose, and although I could not call her fat, her hips were about twice as wide as mine.

Mom wore a tight, black skirt and a light blue blouse that she must have had for ages as I remember seeing her wear it on old photographs too. As always, Mom appeared classy in these clothes, as if she would have to go to an official dinner tonight instead of just lounging on the couch with Dad and me. My own sports pants were much less fancy, and I internally scolded myself for not dressing more properly, as I knew how Mom appreciated that.

I watched as she moved the groceries around, without even looking me in the eye. She could be so practical. Mom had a sharp eye for anything irregular or out of order to her taste. Nothing ever eluded her attention. Both Dad and I felt a mix of admiration and nervousness towards Mom, as she always managed to do things better, faster and more thorough than we did. I, for my part, felt a constant need to prove myself to Mom, but it seldom occurred that what I did fully pleased her.

As I sheepishly stood beside Mom, she took the peppers I bought out of the plastic bag. They lingered on their way to the cupboard, and I could already predict that something was not to Mom's liking. "O, Dan, you bought regular chili peppers again. I just hoped you would bring Madame Jeannettes this time to spice up the meal I am preparing." Damn. I knew I had forgotten something. She held the peppers in front of me face, as if to confront me with my mistake.

"Sorry, Mom."

Mom's blue eyes stared deeply into mine before she winked, smiled, patted my cheek and put the peppers away. "Don't worry. It'll just be a little less spicy, but your Dad even likes that better." The sensation of her stroking my stubble beard lingered on my face.

I stood there watching as Mom emptied the bags, hoping that the rest of the products were right. Mom's movements were accompanied by the familiar, tingling sound of her elegant silver bracelets that Dad had bought for their fifteen year anniversary. It is strange how such subtle sensations can come to mean much for us. While I was waiting for Mom to unpack, I felt a tinge of melancholy due to the sound. Even though I was twenty one and only home for the weekend, the sound of Mom's bracelets symbolized the many evenings when I had helped her cook when I was young. She had an idiosyncratic way of shaking the water off veggies that made a silvery sound when her bracelets shook too.

After we had cleared away the groceries, we moved to the living room for a coffee. Dad was already sitting there, reading his newspaper. The weekend edition nearly covered him, but underneath two legs in sports pants stuck out. He must have gone for his favorite run to the nearby meadows while I was shopping. Dad sure did make an effort to keep in shape for Mom. To be fair, she hadn't resisted joking about his pot belly when he had one a couple of years ago. Mom could be quite demanding... Not bossy, but demanding for sure.

Beside Dad, on the small table in the corner, two large carton packages were placed that had probably been delivered this morning. Mom bent over and kissed Dad on the cheek. "Hi honey, had a good run? Will you dress up nicely for your son and me? He's not home from college that often. Your shirt smells a bit." Mom rambled and continued without a pause, pointing at the boxes on the table: Are those for me?"

Dad folded the news paper and nodded, ignoring the remarks about his clothes. "Yes, dear. They just came in with the mail this morning."

Mom cheered and picked the packages up. As Dad and I drank our coffee in silence she began unpacking them. The first turned out to be a new duvet cover. It was a washed pink, with a very gentle rose pattern in it. Mom held it in front of her to admire it. "Won't you look at that... Don't you like it, honey? It will look amazing with the colors of the walls, don't you think?"

Dad's smile was a bit too tense. I guessed what he thought: another girly element to their sleeping room. But long ago he had given up his resistance to pink flowery ornaments and other feminine elements in the house. "Great, yeah," he managed to say. Mom winked at me, as if we were conspirators sharing a secret - only for that I did not have anything to do with Dad's waning taste.

"Why don't you go put it on our duvet, honey?"Mom asked Dad in a sweet voice.

"What, right now?" Dad glanced quickly at his news paper. Poor guy, all he wanted was to finish his weekend edition of the Guardian.

"Why not? I'll make you some more coffee!"

Dad got up with a sigh.

"Don't be like that." Mom said. "Imagine if I sighed at everything I did for you. And honey, could you maybe also change the pillows with the ones in the attic? I think they will look nicer, color-wise."

"Anything for you!"

While Mom unpacked the second package, which contained a pair of nylon stocking, I sipped my coffee and thought about college. It was so great to feel so free from my family. I liked being here, but being sucked into these age old family dynamics was tiresome at times. Why did I still feel so under pressure to please Mom?

"Ok, where is this going?" the woman wanted to know, still lying with her head on the desk, bored.

"You'll see," he said. "I plan to slowly make the son and mother grow towards one another when the father has an accident. A relationship that secretly blooms while Dad is in hospital."

"Yawn. Seen that before."

"What do you suggest, then?" the man asked, his eye brows lowering ominously to show his discontent.

"Send in the dove!" she giggled, and slowly raised herself into a more upright position, as if the story had suddenly caught her attention.

"Now already?" He genuinely was surprised.

"Yeah, give this story a short cut. Let's see what happens when they lose control? May I?"

Slightly irritated he replied: "No, let me have a go first. I'll send in the dove if that means that you'll remain interested. We'll see where I can take it from there."

As Mom went to the kitchen to try on the stockings, I was startled by a loud thumb against the window, as if somebody had thrown a basketball at our house. However, when I got up to look, I saw a crippled dove lying in the bushes outside. The poor bird must have hit our house at high speed. When it looked at me through the window with its beady eyes, I felt a strange, cold feeling all through my body. Just as I wanted to go out, to save it, the bird got up, flapped its wings and took off in the goofish parabolas in which doves tend to fly.

When I sat back on the couch the weirdest thing happened. I watched as my right hand began to crawl, like a giant spider, up my leg, without me wanting to move it. "The fuck..."

In terror I saw how it moved higher and higher towards my crotch, as I tried to stop it by grabbing my right arm with my left. Soon, however, I also lost control over my left arm, which was positioned left to my body again, where it hung relaxed. My right hand had crawled up to the top of my sports pants, and now it moved inside my boxer shorts. All I could consciously move was my head, and I stared down, appalled, at how my right arm began to make jerking movements as my hand closed around my penis.

"Stop, stop, stop," I thought, because Mom could be back any moment. But I just felt my dick stiffen as my arm continued to make pumping movements out of its own. I breathed heavily in a fit of panic. What the hell was going on?

Just as I heard Mom's heeled shoes approaching the living room, the spell broke and I frantically pulled my hand out of my pants. Mom saw the last part of this movement and raised an eye brow. "What are you doing, baby?

"Nothing," I said, still frightened by what had happened.

Mom accepted this empty answer and pointed to her stocking-clad legs. "What do you think?" she wanted to know.

The stockings were of a shiny fabric, that made Mom look even more classy. Still shocked by myself, I had to gather my thoughts to make a compliment. "Really nice, Mom!"

The woman sighed audibly. "So why did you just make him masturbate if he gets away with it like that? Why not go the whole way?"

"Now that you have messed up my suspense by having me send down the dove, I might as well... But I don't know. I hesitate. I feel bad for him, I guess. Like he is a real person."

"Why are you getting sentimental all of a sudden? These people are real, alright, and then they aren't. They exist only when they are being read, or written down. Their future is ours to make. But then again it is their real future, and they will have to face its consequences. You know all this, and it hasn't stopped you before."

"Ok. Just give me a bit longer."

When Dad came down again, Mom took out a piece of cake she had baked earlier. While we munched it in delight - it even helped to make me forget a little about my loss of control earlier - Dad placed his hand on Mom's knee and complimented her with the new stockings, as he had been disciplined to do over the years whenever Mom bought some new piece of clothing.

"Thank you honey," Mom replied. "Please be careful with your nails though. And your hands look a bit dirty from sporting still. I want to keep them clean." She removed Dad's hand as if it was a dirty rag, and smiled to him. "First clean yourself, before touching your pretty wife." She giggled.

Dad accepted Mom's remark and leaned over to reach his coffee. As he did, a piece of the cake crumbled and landed on Mom's lap.

"Mark, careful!" Mom said annoyed, while she picked the piece of cake up between index finger and thumb like it were a nasty insect she had spotted. "I've just got these stockings new and you are already crumbling greasy cake on them. You are hopeless."

When she saw that Dad looked frightened, she quickly kissed him and moved to the other side of the couch. Jocularly, she remarked: "Perhaps my new stockings are safer here. You be a good boy the rest of the day, and you may approach me again."

"And perhaps give a welcome to our new bed sheets..." Dad whispered slightly too loudly.

"TMI, Dad," I laughed. Sex had never been a hot topic in our home and jokes like Dad's didn't really shock me anymore.

"Just as a piece of advice," she started, mocking his tone, "a good narrative never involves elements that do not contribute at all to the plot. If the boy forgets about the masturbation that easily, it could as well have been left out."

"I thought it would make a greater impact!" he said as he lowered the pen he had used to write just now. "It seems like I just can't control their reactions..."

The woman laughed. "They are real, remember? We can throw things at them, but as characters they will respond how they will. If we push them too far, they simply become others and lose their identity. One time we even made the entire narrative disintegrate, do you recall?"

"I guess I will fang the flames a bit then, to see how far we can go."

"Another dove?"

"I don't know. If we keep throwing deus ex machinae at them, this story will become pretty implausible."

"It already is, so fuck it. Just do it."

Another heavy thumb startled us, and Mom and Dad both jumped up. The large window at the street's side of our house was visibly trembling due to the impact.

"Another one?" I thought.

Before I could act, Mom and Dad rushed to the window.

"Don't look!" I yelled dramatically, but it was too late.

"Don't be ridiculous." Mom said. "It's just a poor dove."

I watched as I saw both Mom and Dad shudder at its sight and I feared the worst. I wouldn't call myself superstitious, but I did not trust these deviant doves at all. I was pretty certain that my loss of control had to do with the gaze of the earlier bird.

Mom and Dad seemed OK as they watched the dove fly off, but this impression did not last long.

"I feel weird," Dad said as he sat down. "My body feels heavy. I can't... I can't move..."

Mom had been moving to sit down, but now just stood about in the middle of the room. "Me... too..."

I, as well, felt a cold force running through me again, and as I tried to stand up, my body remained inert. "Help..."

Then it happened.

Mom turned towards me as she yelped: "My body is moving on its own!"

She started to walk in my direction. All this happened smoothly and Mom's body did not show any sign of resistance. Without jerking and stuttering movements, Mom graciously approached me with wagging hips. Only her scared face didn't fit the calmness of the rest of her demeanor, and she looked as if she had just been placed in a terrifying roller coaster with no way out.

"What is going on?" Dad asked. "Where are you going?"

All three of us were panicking now and frantically wiggling our heads around, as if we could somehow release the spell that way. But our bodies went their own ways.

Mom was now standing right in front of me, when she suddenly dropped to her knees. Her hands were gently placed on my own knees, and pushed them aside. I felt my own legs spread further in response, so that Mom could sit between them kneeling.

"I have no idea what my body is doing! I am trying to stop this!" Mom called out, as her hands started to massage my upper legs.

Meanwhile my own hand had a mind of its own. I saw how it was lifted and placed it on Mom's cheek, gently patting her. It felt way too intimate to caress Mom like this, but no matter how hard I exercised my will, my hand kept softly rubbing her face. She did not have many degrees of freedom, but Mom tried to pull her face away from my hand as well as she could. "I have the same Mom, this is not me!" I explained.

I could not check for sure what my Mom thought was happening, and whether I was to blame, because she soon went even further than some innocent cheek-patting. Her hands which had been massaging my legs, moved up along my legs. The synthetic fabric became static under her intense rubbing and it gave soft crackling sounds as Mom moved her hands to the elastic of my pants.

"Ah. Oh. I am not sure what is happening, baby!" Mom sounded really stressed as her fingers started to hook around the waist band of my pants. The touch of her hands just above the area of my groins felt insanely sensitive. To my deepest shame, I felt that I was starting to get an erection from what Mom was doing to me. With all my will power I tried to think of anything else than sex.

My body did not respond at all to my commands. Instead, I felt how I raised my ass off the couch, giving Mom the opportunity to tug down my pants. Which she did, in one continuous movement. "Fuck, Mom, stop!" I yelled, really scared that she would see my hard cock.

Meanwhile Dad was protesting in unintelligible utterances from the position on the couch where his body kept him locked, forced to see how his wife had started to undress his son.

"I, oh my, I am sorry, baby. You have to believe me, I have no clue what's happening." Mom mumbled as her hands carefully pulled my pants over my Adidas sneakers, so that now I was sitting in front of Mom in my underwear. An obscene tent had formed in my underpants, and Mom's head was awfully close to it. I tried to look away, but all of it was too intense. This was my own mother, who suddenly knelt in front of me as if she was my girlfriend about to give me a BJ! I did not want to see my Mom like this, I did not want to be aroused by it!

Mom started to untie my shoes one at a time, and my body co-operated perfectly with hers, lifting my foot when she was ready to remove one sneaker. My socks came off too. It were the white tennis socks that Mom must have put in the laundry so often when I still lived at home. As if in an old reflex, Mom still neatly formed a ball of the two socks. Then, her attention, or I should say her body's attention returned to my legs.

"Stop, you two!" Dad protested, but Mom's body was unstoppable now even though her face looked properly shocked at what was happening. By now she witnessed my erection and her eyes widened, as if she'd just seen water burn. "Jesus..." she said, the dismay dripping from her voice. "Are you... hard? From me touching you like this? My God..." I felt ashamed, but I knew of nothing to say. With all my will power I tried to move my body to escape, but nothing came from this.

Meanwhile her body displayed nothing of hesitance, and as Mom tried to look away from my hard member, she started to roll up the sleeves of her tender blue blouse. I feared for the worst. My dick trembled from excitement, while I felt disgust at what was about to happen. "I am so sorry, Mom. I am not in control!"Dad just lost it when Mom started to reach for my dick through my boxer shorts. He started yelling and making threats about what he would do if we wouldn't stop. Mom tried to explain that this wasn't her, but she couldn't get across. Mid-way to reaching my throbbing erection, Mom's hands hesitated. Then, abruptly, she got up from her knees, picked up the ball of socks, walked to Dad, and tried to force it in his mouth to silence him.

"Honey," Mom whimpered, "this is not me, I don't want to do this. Oh my..." Dad tried to move his head but it suddenly froze, so that Mom and I watched as her hands purposefully pushed the socks in Dad's mouth. All we heard now was a muffled grumbling.

"Stop. Stop. Stop," the man said. "This is getting a bit too non-consensual for my liking. What are they doing? What am I doing to them? I am ruining my characters! Traumatizing them!"

The woman just shrugged her shoulders. "Don't be so sensitive. It's just a story. Yeah, I just said that these characters are real to a certain degree. But then again, they are also just characters in a rather unbalanced narrative."

The man shook his head. We are just characters in a narrative too, but I am awfully glad that I am not forced to jerk off my son. Can I start over, please?"

These words seemed to appeal to the woman, who leaned back and thought it over. "No, that would take too long. Perhaps we could change their mood a bit? Make it easier on them?"

'I'll do that, at least!"

Once Dad was silenced, his body seemed to get more relaxed. And as it did, apparently, so did his mind. The grumbling quickly ceased, even when Mom bent over and started to move the couch a bit so that Dad would have an unobstructed view of what she would do to me. Mom just kept whispering: "Oh no, oh no." She could predict perfectly what her body was up to and she was afraid of the boundaries it would cross.

In myself, I felt a change happening. Even though my body was not in my control, I was not separated from its affects. All my muscles were relaxed, and gave me the feeling as if I had just left a sauna. My raging dick, however, sent pangs of horniness through me, and this started to mess with my thoughts. I felt that I really needed relief, even though I simultaneously felt tremendous shame for being exposed like this to Mom and Dad. It was as if my head tried to resist lust, while my body had already been seduced.

When Mom sat down next to me on the couch, I saw in her eyes that similar things were happening to her. Although her general expression was still frightful, her eyes looked a bit dazed, as her body probably sent signals to her mind to relax. Her left hand was placed reassuringly on my knee, which immediately made my dick twitch. Her other started to pet my back under my shirt. If I hadn't known that this was beyond Mom's control, I would have called it a loving touch. Her fingers gently massaged me as her hand moved up my spine.

We had not been this close for ages, and I remembered, in a flash, how Mom used to care for me when I was younger. We had cuddled a lot. All this changed when Mom had thought it was time for me to become a man, and when she had started to command me around like she did with Dad. Then, I had been constantly running errands for her, while I never managed to deserve her love fully again. There was always something about which she would complain.

I could not see Mom's face, and I tried not to look at it either, as it would probably show an appalled expression at what we were doing against our wills. Meanwhile, what I could see was Dad's gaze, just lingering on us, with flickering anger that abode then and again as he became more relaxed. My own thought became more cloudy, and only now and then a thought popped up screaming what the hell is happening ?

Mom's right hand started to crawl up my left leg, and I watched it in fear as it approached my boxer shorts. Her bracelets felt cold on the skin of my leg and it gave me goosebumps. The closer she got to my cock, the harder I had to fight the lust that came shooting up in warm gushes from my stomach. I noticed that I started to pant, even though I really did not want Mom to touch me there. How could I ever look at myself in the mirror if my own mother had touched my penis? If I had enjoyed it?

"Oh God, oh God..." I heard Mom's voice close to my ear as she probably also saw what she was about to do. "Mark, I am sorry... I do not know what is happening. Oh God..."

Her fingers slipped into the leg of my boxers, and she had to push her elbow forward a bit to make the right angle. It looked as if she was reaching for a piece of garment that had fallen under the closet, but instead, Mom was going to reach for my cock. "Mom, I do not want this..." I said, more hoping to ease my guilt than to think that I could stop her. By now, I could no longer honestly say that I had not started to want it. To feel a hand on my dick. To relieve my urge that was building up and making me sweat.

"I know, baby. I do not know what is going on, but we will get through this together..." Even though Mom still protested, her voice had become more lush in my ear. She spoke softly, so soft that Dad would probably not hear her from where he was sitting.

I gasped as I felt how the tips of Momś fingers found their way through my pubic hairs. It tingled as she brushed through them, towards the shaft of my dick. I gasped as Mom caught the base of my cock between her index finger and thumb. All that I was aware of when she did was the feeling of those two fingers on my penis: my attention completely shifted away from what I saw or where we were.

It felt so extremely intense, and it was as if my lust was multiplied by a factor ten. I gasped again. My Mom's fingers felt slightly cool against the warm skin of my dick. Their touch was so different from the hands of my ex, who had often given me hand jobs. Mom's hands were larger, warmer, more of a real woman than of a girl.

Mom must have mistaken my gasping for a sob, as she whispered: "I am so sorry, baby, I do not want this either." But her hands thought otherwise, and wiggled to free my cock that was pressing hard against a fold in my boxer shorts. It jumped loose, so that my cock was now standing upright in my underwear, like a giant, obscene pole. I notice that I was already staining my grey boxer shorts with precum and I just hoped so that Mom would not see it.

But even if she had not seen it, she would soon feel my sticky juices on her hand. Her hand moved up my cock, her fingers trailing its down side, until she reached the elastic tissue of my frenulum. As her index finger started to make small circles, that made me gasp for air again and again, her other fingers slowly closed around the shaft of my cock. I could feel precum gush out of the tip of my penis and by now it was sure to be all over Mom's hand.

"Oh, no. Oh, no," Mom just kept repeating, making the warm air of her breath tingled against my earlobe. The complete relaxation of my body made me feel very confused. I was disgusted by what Mom was doing to me - but I did not feel disgusted, I felt relaxed and super horny. I was trying my best to ignore what was happening, but it was impossible to ignore the fact that my own Mom now had my cock inside of her hand.

Before long, Mom formed an 'o' of her finger and thumb, and slowly, very slowly, started to pull my foreskin down and up. "Oh, baby, I am so, so sorry..." Mom whispered, but it almost sounded erotic as close as she was to my ear. Whenever Mom would pull down as far as she could, rushes of blood would shoot through my cock, making it ever harder. Then, as she returned her hand upwards, and pulled my skin just over the tip of my cock, I felt my body shudder in anticipation of the joy of the following movement.

I tried hard not to look at Dad, who had a clear view of how Mom's hand was pulling me off inside of my boxer's. But when I did glance at him, I saw that the anger was gone, and a certain look of drowsy concern was visible on his face. As Mom started pacing up her tempo, and as her other hand moved out of my shirt and into my hair, where she gently massaged the skin of my head, I felt my dick grow to a size it had never had before. It felt like it was about to burst. My body responded, somehow, to Dad being forced to watch his wife please me like this, and I had to fight hard against the most awful thoughts. I just hoped, I really, really hoped, that the spell would break soon, though I did not know how we would ever be a normal family again after this.

Mom was now making quick paced movements, and I saw the contours of her hand in my underwear. Every time she moved her hand up, a bit of the elastic band was lifted and I could actually see her hand itself. As she paced up, I heard her anniversary bracelets tingle. Their cold steel chinked against my groins every time she pulled down, and they jingled softly when she pulled up. Dad just sat there, listening to the wet sounds of Mom's hands on my cock, and the usually joyful tingling of her bracelets, that were connected to so many of my childhood memories, but that now accompanied a tragic deed of incest. The sound of it appeared to turn my body on even further, and I felt my balls cringe in anticipation of shooting a massive load inside of my boxer shorts. Mom, who had always taken care of me, was taking care of me once again...

"Mom, I am trying to hold it, but... Ah... I am afraid... That I..." I cried, and even though I was shamefully aware that my body was enjoying Mom's treatment, I was still resisting with what little mental effort I had left.

"Oh, baby, oh, no..." Mom had been saying little of more intelligence these past minutes, and at this dramatic stage she did not seem able to add something more than: "Hold it, please. Do not... come... because of me..."

As I was sure that I could no longer hold it, images flashed before my eyes. My friends laughing when this secret would come out. Me admitting full of shame to future girlfriends what had happened on this fateful day. The realization that my Mom would have made me come... But no further effort was required to hold back for now, as Mom's grip suddenly loosened, as she wrung her hand out of my boxer shorts and stood up. Was it over? Had I been spared the utmost shame?

My relief was short lived. Mom immediately dropped to her knees, and started tugging at my boxers. She looked so matter-of-factly, with her sleeves rolled up, as if she was busy preparing a meal, but her face showed confusion. I could not stop myself from once more lifting my ass a bit, so that Mom could pull my boxers off in a single movement. My dick sprang free, right in front of her face, with her blue eyes looking at shock at the size of my tool. Probably, it was even bigger than it had felt. It was swollen to its max, slightly red, and completely coated in my juices.

It felt incredibly intense when Mom's shoulders bumped into my knees, and I felt the cotton of her blouse. Feeling her like this, and seeing her face hovering right behind my cock, made that I start to pant again out of excitement. My body was sending signals of intense pleasure to me, and I actually had to make an effort to feel appalled, which stressed me out, as this was, after all, my own Mom that I was feeling excited about.

Mom's shoulders moved forwards, as to bring her face to the tip of my penis. With the limited room for movement she still had, she tried to force her face to look away, but it seemed that even her neck was now under control of the magic that had seized us. Therefore, I watched as Mom's head closely approached my swollen dick, with her face twitching in looks of shock and submission. Mom, too, was probably being influenced by the state of her body, as she no longer screamed, or yelled in protest. She merely kept her lips tightly close as her shoulder had her bent completely towards my dick, her son's.

The moment Mom's lips touched my dick, I moaned. It felt soft and warm, and I felt how her face was being pushed forward with quite a bit of force, so that my cock pressed hard against her wet lips. Mom made sounds of disapproval as she winced. She even tried to turn her head a bit, but the result was only that my cock's tip trailed her face and cheeks, so that soon her face was glistening with my precum that was produced in large quantities. Her soft cheeks were pliant as my cock pressed against them. I could not resist moaning.

Perhaps whatever controlled us discovered that there was no way to force Mom to take my dick in her mouth, as, to my relief, Mom's body moved backwards again. A string of precum vibrated between her lips and my cock, as a spider's web in the dew. Soon it snapped, and it landed on her chin. But if Mom and I had expected that we would be safe now, we were wrong. Mom's body wiggled around, as her hand started to now take off her new stockings.

She leaned forward to do this, so that her face was pressed against my groins, and my balls disappeared in her hair. My sticky cock left spatters of precum in Mom's voluminous amount of brown hair. Without standing up, she managed to take off the stockings, and hold them if front of her, as she moved backwards again. She wrapped one of her hands in the soft, silky fabric of the nylon stockings, and then, with hand covered, continued to jerk me off.

The fabric felt extremely supple around my dick, and by now I had a hard time to think straight anymore. The pressure just kept on building. I saw that Dad's eyes had widened when Mom started to use her stockings as a piece of cloth for me to come in, perhaps because he had been scolded earlier for even dropping a small piece of cake next to it. Meanwhile Mom's hand went faster and faster, accompanied by the familiar shaking of her bracelets, and her body did this in such an obvious fashion that it almost was as if she were doing a household chore rather than jacking her own son off.

"We are ruining them..." Mom managed to complain between gulps for air, and she looked concerned at a new spurt of juice that ran from the tip of my penis onto the black fabric of the stockings, causing a white stain. "They... were... just... new!" Something in Mom's voice changed, as she started to pant slightly do the effort of her hand job.

As she looked up, I saw a similar drowsiness in Mom's eyes as I had seen earlier in Dad's. She remained silent for a while, as her eyes locked themselves intensely to mine, making me feel nervous, and very horny at the same time. I started to notice that Mom's breasts in her blouse shook under the movement she was making with her hand. My body felt like it was on fire now, and I simply could not avert my eyes, even though I knew that Mom was watching me. In response, Mom's hand only went faster and faster, the fabric nearly got drenched with my fluids.

"Don't... do... this... baby... Hold... it..." Mom managed to utter, but she out of breath. "Don't... come... please..."

"I am trying, Mom!" My voice's pitch went up as I tried to hold it back.

Then, I couldn't stop it any more. I moaned loudly as several strands of sperm erupted from me. My load just escaped past the fabric that Mom had wrapped around my dick, and after a short parabola flight, it landed on her hands and on the nylon stockings with an audible splatter, as it was a heavy load. Mom did not stop pumping, and even though I thought that this could possibly have been all, another strand of cum followed. I saw that my mother looked at it with her eyes widening, shocked by the quantity of sperm that she had milked from my dick. Although she was definitely more relaxed than earlier, she still looked at my cock with abhorrence.

Her hands immediately went busy to use the fabric of Mom's new stockings to clean my dick. The sperm hardly stuck to the fabric, so Mom's hands had to mostly fold the stocking to keep it contained in them. There were white spotted stains all over them. As there was perhaps nothing to say about what occurred, Mom kept silent again, and all I heard was her soft panting due to the effort of giving me a hand job.

After she had made a sort of ball from the stained stockings, Mom suddenly rose. She turned to Dad. "No... You wouldn't..." I managed to remark, catching my breath again. But Mom did. She threw the dirty stockings in his direction, and they landed half over his shoulders, so that Dad was now covered with the evidence of Mom and mine horrible incestual deed. Dad remained drowsy, and appeared to completely accept the current state of affairs in which he had been turned into our dirty laundry bin.

"I... am... sorry... Mark..." Mom nearly cried.

"My, oh, my..." the woman remarked as the man lowered his pen for a while to think. "And then to imagine that you were the one who felt pity for these characters earlier! How are you going to end this story now?"

The man rolled the pen through his fingers. "I don't know... I got carried away, I must admit. When I could see how far they would go... What forces I could unleash... Let's just leave at this, OK? Enough playing around. They have lowered themselves enough."

But the woman grabbed his arm, to keep him sitting. "Let's just see how far we can go, OK? Now that we have unleashed all this? Perhaps we can get lower?" Her eyes flickered with enthusiasm.

"How are you going to do that?" the man allowed her to keep him seated, but his doubt had not yet been removed. "The poor boy has just come half a bucket of sperm. Unless you want to drain him dry, there is no way he can go again..."

"We need to give him some supplies... Can I, finally, take over from you?"

The man looked defeated and handed her the pen.

As the woman started writing again, the man looked at the text over her shoulder. At what he saw, he just shook his head, but he did not manage to look away, let alone walk away from the story they were writing.

Mom stood for a while looking at Dad, who obediently allowed himself to have been covered by her stained stockings. Something in her posture changed, very subtly. I guess that the sight of Dad like this did something to Mom, as her neck visibly relaxed, while her breathing became deeper again. Mom was letting go of something that had been giving her power to resist the recent changes.

As light fell in through the window, Mom stood in the middle of the room and turned to me again. She stood upright, firm, as a Goddess of an ancient culture bathing in the afternoon sunshine. I could see how the light seemed to infuse her with a relaxation that made her glow. Her expression had changed, as she seemed calm and in control. She kept looking me in the eye, as her hands moved on their own to start to unbutton her blouse. Her hands knew perfectly well what they needed to do, even without her looking at down, and they quickly got the first button open. A first sign of Mom's impressive cleavage showed.

Because Mom looked so intently in my direction, the whole scene got a sense of a ceremony, in which Mom would be offering herself to me. A second button was opened, and the top of Mom's white bra with lace ornaments became visible. Meanwhile, blood found its way to my cock again, and where it had hung limpid after Mom's hand job, it now twitched once more. I was nervous, I did not know where to look. Now that I had come, the pressure was less, and I could think more clearly - and I, obviously, felt shame and confusion. Yet, it was as if Mom was doing this for me - her face looked so serious and pretty in the radiant light.

"Mom, I am so sorry for what happened..."I tried, but she did not reply this time. Instead, a third button came open, so that the round shape of her heavy breasts became visible. Then, Mom's stomach, slightly fluffy, but still very good for her age. When the last button was opened, Mom's breasts were hidden by nothing but her beautiful white bra. Her motherly globes were slightly pushed up by it, and her bulky cleavage looked delicious. I could simply not look away. Mom was stripping for me .Her hands soon went to her back and unclasped her bra, which caused her tits to sag noticeably, although they still hung firm on her chest. In a skillful movement, Mom removed and slung it, along with her blouse, towards Dad, where it landed over his head, so that he could no longer see us.

Mom's breasts were presented right in front of my eyes... It had been ages since I had seen them, and I almost trembled out of excitement. They were more than a handful of maternal flesh, with large, brownish aureolae and protruding nipples the size of an index finger's phalange. Her tits pointed outwards a bit under their weight, the skin was pulled taut due to their sheer size. From here, I could see the freckles on her boobs, that Mom had probably gotten from sunbathing topless. I could not help gasping and biting my lip.

The little resistance I had felt went away. I was enthralled by these tits, I longed to touch them. I could no longer tell what was the influence from my body, and what was my own perversion, but Mom's tits looked so soft and spongy that I just wanted to knead them. Suddenly, I saw Mom breathe in surprise, as if she had had cold water splashed on her. Her face, which had had the most serene look just now, winced, but then, slowly, became solemn again, and a mysterious, accepting glow shone seemed to emanate from her skin.

A little miracle did occur. While I watched how Mom's chest rose slowly with her inhaling, tiny white droplets formed on her nipples. I had to squint my eyes, but they were really there. Was it what it thought? But that would be impossible?

The droplets coalesced into larger ones, until, rather suddenly, a tiny stream of whitish fluid ran down from Mom's nipples, over the globular shape of her tits. Mom was producing milk. It dripped from her breasts over her stomach in little flows, and once it reached her skirt, it ran over it, causing a staining trail of mother milk. Mom looked absolutely ravishing, radiant, as if a primal energy was beaming from her, seducing me to come near. She herself also seemed to be taken over by the intensity of this event, as her face now looked serene and open, there was no longer any sign of struggle.

My body started moving, my cock was rock hard again. Soon my own shirt was taken off, and thrown into a corner, this time saving Dad. I felt Mom's body warmth as I approached, and then felt myself kneeling to lower my face to be in position for her breasts. My left hand grabbed hold of her right tit and lifted it slightly, which caused the stream of milk to spread and form a film over her tit. I felt ecstatic as the weight of her boob rested in the palm of my hand, and when I felt how I gently kneaded her large breast, my fingers pressing into the pliant flesh.

Soon my mouth was pressed against her nipple, so that my face disappeared into her soft tissue of Mom's boob. At first I tried to resist, but the milk ran over my chin too, being so close to Mom. I opened my lips, and felt her nipple now protruding between them. My tongue immediately found its way to press against its rubbery skin as if old impulses took over. Then milk ran in my mouth, it was warm and sweet. I swallowed lest it overflowed my mouth, and I intuitively began sucking on Mom's nipple, while my other hand was placed on Mom's free tit. I felt the milk generously run over my fingers there, my whole hand got wet.

Softly, I heard Mom moan, as her milk gushed into my mouth once more, after all these years. She patted the back of my head, or, probably, her body did so of the own accord, but I felt like I was being smothered by motherly love. I suckled as much as I could, each time filling my mouth with the slightly gooey, delicious milk of Mom. I wiggled my face to feel how soft her boob was as a kind of pillow for my head to rest. Greedy, I took as much milk as I could. My other hand started to massage Mom's breast again. First gently, then it started groping her enthusiastically, as I played with her pliant flesh. and soon it was all wet and slippery due to her own motherly fluids. As I tried to grab it in one hand, her slithery skin made her boobs slide out of my hand again and again, which felt really sexy, and seduced me to keep massaging it.

Milk dribbled over my chin, because I did not manage to drink it all. I felt how wet Mom's skirt was getting due to all this spilled milk, as I started to lean into her more. My own torso was also slowly getting wetter and wetter. Mom's milk created a sticky layer on my skin. Still, greedy, I suckled as hard as I could, and every time I swallowed I was rewarded with a new gulp of milk. It tasted of earth. It tasted of beginnings. It tasted of my younger days. Mom's bracelets chinked once more, as her hand gently went through my hairs.

I had not felt so salvaged in a long, long time. I do not know how long I drank from Mom's milk, but when the stream finally stopped, I felt as if my body was completely reinvigorated. And with it, the tension in my groins had built proportionally. I was full of sexual energy, my mind could not stop thinking about fucking, due to the force that came from my body below, over which I still did not have any control.

Mom then took me by the hand, and we moved into the kitchen together. I could finally see her face again, but there was no longer any trace of confusion or anger. This was as it should be. She was softer, much softer, than she had been for a long time, being so bossy around the house. Now, her face was relaxed, as if she was also relieved of energy that had been building up inside of her.

Dad stumbled after us, still holding the stained stockings and Mom's blouse. He stood in the door opening, looking at how Mom guided me to one of cooking aisle in the middle of the kitchen, where the trays with the dough balls still rested. As I was fully naked, there was nothing any more to use to hide my erection from Mom. Our bodies moved really close to another, as Mom stood with her bottom resting against the counter, and I just right in front of her. Then, Mom turned around, glancing one last time deep into my eyes. In her blue irises I observed no hesitation, no doubt, just a pure and full YES.

Mom pulled up her damp skirt over her ass cheeks, to display a deliciously round ass, covered only partly by a pair of sloggi underpants. My cock was so close as to actually touch the cotton of Mom's panties. I felt how my hands reached for them, how they calmly took the elastic waistband and pulled them down. As I was standing straight, I could not fully see it from this angle, but Mom's pussy was now right in front of my cock. I saw a few pubic hairs spring out from under her hefty, white ass meat. Mom stepped out of her panties, that were now lying on the floor, and kicked them into the direction of Dad, who immediately bent over to reach them and pick them up. I could see that they were stained by Mom's pussy juice, as Mom too had also gotten real excited.

Then, Mom bent over further, her body placed on the trays with dough balls, which were squashed under her weight. Her large breasts protruded, slightly, side wards, and her back was arched as to lift her ass as high as she could in this position. I now accepted that this was going to happen. I was so full of energy, that I wouldn't have been able to hold it back, even if I willed. I was going to fuck my mother.

But then, when my body had indeed positioned itself right, when my hands had been placed on Mom's wide hips, and my dick was just a centimeter away from Mom's vagina, I suddenly twitched. The movement stopped. I nearly fell over, as I suddenly had to balance myself, which was no longer done by the mysterious force that had compelled me earlier. I was free! I lifted one of my hands to try, but indeed, I could now stop this drama. Quickly, I glanced at Dad, but he still seemed completely dazed, as was Mom who was lying here in front of me on top of her carefully rolled balls of dough.

At first, I thought to just turn and walk away from this scene now that the force had released me, to retreat somewhere to make sense of all of this. But as I did, my dick bumped into Mom's ass, which released all the urge that had been building up as I had been drinking her milk. A deep, guttural feeling erupted from my groins, and I sniffed heavily. A tinge of the smell of Mom's pussy reached my nostrils, and I found my intention weaken. Instead, I just had to release myself. I turned towards Mom again.

Was I going to do this? My hands were on her hips once more, grabbing her by her dirty skirt. Her ass glistened due to the milk that had drenched her skirt so. Mom looked absolutely fertile. My dick met her pussy lips, with a sensation that is beyond words. It was even deeper than when I had drunk her milk. This was my return to my origin, my return to an unconditional safety. My cock pushed her labia apart, deeper, soon its tips was engulfed, as I pressed my hips forwards. Mom moaned with a high pitch, as I pushed deeper and deeper into her. Finally, my cock was buried inside Mom's warm hole, completely engulfed by her, by my sweet Mom.

There was no turning back. I had chosen to do this. I had surrendered to my lusts. As I held on firmly to Mom's hips, I started to fuck her. Besides our sounds, there was complete silence, so that I could hear the squishy sounds that came from Mom's pussy, and the metallic sound of the trays that shove under my movements. Mom held on to the other side of the counter, and I heard her breathe very loudly now. As I pulled my hips back to thrust again, I heard a high pitched hum emerging from her throat. She was enjoying this.

I started to fuck her harder. My, oh, my... I was completely buried in my Mom's body, my dick was fully inside of her... The thought made me extremely horny, and I watched Mom's tits quake when I thrust forward. The trays clattered, the balls rolled from the counter as Mom's body shook under my force. At every thrust, I heard Mom moan higher and higher, which made me go crazy with lust. The force in my groins was getting stronger and stronger, the pressure unbearable, I just had to come. Mom's ass jittered when my pelvis ram into her, and one of the trays was pushed, with a loud, steel sound, from the counter.

I noticed that around Mom, on the tray, a small layer of milk became visible, as Mom had started producing it again while I was having sex with her. I could not resist, and manage to wiggle my hands under her tits. In response, Mom lifted her upper body, and rested on her palms. I could now grope her tits freely, which swayed under my impact. They were wet with milk, sticky due to the dough, and her nipples stuck out hard in the palms of my hands. I felt them tremble every time I fucked her hard, and I heard Mom now freely screaming of the pleasure this gave her.

Mom's ass was squeezed tightly between me and the kitchen counter in this way, and the flesh of her back folded under the curve her spine made. Mom dropped her head in her neck, her hair now hanging over my shoulders, as my belly almost touched her back in this position. I drove my face into her hair, smelling her aroma, the motherly aroma, the reassuring smell of her flowery shampoo. It all felt so insanely sensitive. I felt how Mom's pubic hairs prickled my balls slightly, every time I pushed in her.

Although I nearly came, Mom suddenly, gently, shoved me off her, leaving me standing about surprised, with my dick now wet with her and my juices. Her eyes stared blankly at me, as she probably did not know what her own body was up to yet. It abruptly turned around, taking me by the hand, and started to lead me to the stairs. As I looked around, I saw that the kitchen was a completely mess. All Mom's effort in making the dough balls had been for nothing, as they were squashed, soaked in milked, or rolled all around the kitchen. Several of the trays lay scattered on the floor. Dad, obediently, followed us in our wake.

"Oh, wow." The man said, with his hands in his hair. "Just, wow. What the hell did you just do? I am having a hard time getting my head around it..."

The woman had to shake her head to get loose from the piece of paper, her own writing had absorbed her too much. "I... Ehm... Well..."

"I am not sure whether there is anything plausible left in this narrative still to save. Sexual energy from mother milk? Really?"

It took a while from the woman to respond, but then she looked at her companion next to her with a dirty smile. "You liked it, though..."

It remained silent. The man could not deny this.

She continued: "It was primal, and raw, and pure..."

"... pure is not the word I'd use... "

"... almost religious!" She finished.

All the man could do was laugh. But it was a dry laugh of fear. After a while he thoughtfully remarked: "Let's just finish this, shall we? Go ahead, and take them to the bedroom."

I could not wait to be inside Mom again, I had been so close to coming. With red cheeks and her hair undone, Mom barged into the bedroom, where my parents' bed was covered by the new, pink duvet cover that had just arrived today. It looked so fresh and new, as if it had just been ironed. Dad had really put it on well.

But Mom was not in a mood to admire Dad's work. She basically threw me on the bed, and I bounced on the mattress before I comfortably lay on my back. As a wild animal, Mom immediately crawled over me, and then sat, on her knees, just in front of my erect cock. Here I properly saw what our lust had done to us. We both were a complete mess. Tiny drops of precum still hung in Mom's hair from earlier. Her tits looked swollen, and were covered in sticky, drying milk, and the dough had left dusty patches where it had stuck to the milk. But instead of appalling, it looked incredibly sexy, because it was as if Mom was almost glowing under all the dirtiness that our sex had thrown at her. Her cheeks had a blush, and her eyes showed no doubt about what she wanted.

Her hips raised, as I saw Dad enter the room behind her, and when she was just about ready to sit down on my dick that ached to be in her once more, I saw a similar twitch as I had had earlier. Immediately, I knew that the spell had broken for Mom too, and I was really nervous about what would follow now.

At first I thought Mom would just jump up and leave, and that kind of felt like a relief. Her body was frozen, she was panting hard, I could see her eyes flashing from side to side as she was probably determining what to do. As a good mother, she should get up, leave this scene, and then have us talk about this like adults. But as a woman, I knew she now needed it. And she needed it bad.

Then I saw something snap. The blueness of her eyes seemed to grow even brighter as she sat up straight. Her hips maneuvered so that my dick was right under her pussy. My God, was she really going to? She did. Mom lowered herself on my cock, as she kept it in position with one hand. I saw how my swollen tip separated her labia, how it disappeared in her bush. As she sat down, we both moaned loudly, until I felt Mom's firm ass rest on my balls that were ready to fill her up with cum.

Mom placed her hands on my torso as she started riding me. She held on tight. I saw her wedding ring glisten. Dad was still standing in the door way and would now probably see how my penis disappeared in his wife every time that Mom lifted her hips to slam into me again. Knowing that Mom was doing this voluntarily made my head spin. I was sucked into a tunnel of lust, that blurred my vision and narrowed it to just Mom's body and face. Her beautiful, beautiful face, her bouncing, hefty breasts, her hips that trembled at every thrust she made.

I felt how my cock slid deeper in Mom's vagina, I felt every single inch of her love tunnel as it engulfed my penis. This was how things were meant to be, this was home. I placed my hands on Mom's large ass cheeks and started to rock my hips in accordance with hers. This somehow hit the spot for Mom, who started to yelp. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." The arm with the bracelets slid forwards, she placed her hand on my face and pushed my head into their pillow. Meanwhile, I felt her body starting to shake. Mom was coming. Mom was coming on my dick...

I felt how her pussy contracted around me, as I was balls-deeps inside my own mother. Mom started to make some deep, primal sounds, a whimpering out of pure lust and ecstasy. Her bracelets jingled as even her arms started to shake due to her orgasm. This all was incredibly intimate. I was overcome with love for Mom, overcome with an almost unbearable joy of being so close to her while she enjoyed such pleasures. Finally, Mom stopped shaking, and she lifted herself from me.

In the slightly awkward way in which she crawled from me, I saw the Mom I knew betrayed. Tiny gestures, such as how she brushed her hair behind her ear, were so insanely familiar, which made the situation even hotter to me, as this contrasted with the lustful havoc we had wreaked here. The new duvet was covered with sex juices, stains of milk and cum, it was completely ravaged due to our explosion of lust.

Mom was not about to let me go away unsatisfied. She laid down on her back, grabbed legs by their knees and pulled them towards them, so that she lay waiting folded for me to fuck her. I did not hesitate, and quickly crawled up to position myself rightly.

I could finally really see Mom's pussy like this, as it was stretched right before. It was the prettiest I had ever seen. Her slightly puffy lips glistened with my precum and Mom's fluids, her mound extruded slightly, her bush covered its edges, while her clit was swollen and red. I wanted to be in here.

Intently, I watched as my cock slid in Mom once more. At first, I remained up right, so that I could really see how my dick went into Mom's pussy, and out of it, in and out. But as I got hornier and hornier, I lowered myself, so that I lay on top of Mom. My hips started thrusting fast, really fast, I was ramming into Mom, which gave me extreme pleasure. Her jiggly tits wiggled right in front of my face, and I could not resist once more pressing my lips on Mom's beautiful nipple. As I sucked, to my great surprise, I felt still more milk drip out of Mom's tit.

"Even more?" the man gasped in surprise. "You are breaking the laws of physics here! Aren't you afraid their whole world will collapse?"

"Just let me, just let me," The woman raved in ecstasy. Her story was gripping her completely.

Somehow, I had gotten her milk production started again, and now from her other breast too more milk seeped. I released my mouth from Mom's tit and just looked at how her boobs bounced as I fucked her, while they got slippery due to the milk that gushed out of them. It was a ravishing sight, and I could not hold it any longer.

"Mom, fuck, I am... I am coming!" I yelled. My hips were thrusting multiple times per second, and sped up even further now my orgasm was so close. The bed creaked in loud protest under the force of it. As I nearly came, I noticed that Mom was looking over my shoulder at Dad, who was probably still witnessing this absolutely forbidden scene. A crooked smile appeared on her face. It turned me on even more.

As cum started shooting out of my dick, I pressed my face in Mom's cushiony boobs. I licked her milk of her skin as my lower body convulsed and filled her pussy with so much cum as I had never come before. This was it. This was salvation. I would never feel so safe and warm and taken care of ever again in my life. Sex would never be as good as this. Mom's arms closed around me, as did her legs, and we lay entangled in an intimate cuddle.

Later, Mom and I lay next to each other in silence, on the duvet that was completely stained after our sex. I guess that we both knew that the spell had broken for both of us somewhere during this evening. Neither of us dared to address this fact, nor to address Dad who was still holding Mom's clothes like a kind of servant. I felt deeply awkward, and after a while I just started to sneak out of the room. "Mom," I said as I was almost out of the room. "We should... talk... about this."

"Yeah, baby, we should. Just... know that... I am not angry or anything, OK? This was all good... As it had to be... I am just a bit confused..."

And so I went out, took a shower, went to the gym, trying to get my thoughts on anything else than what had happened. It was hopeless. I had an erection all day, and I was sure that I would never be able to love anyone else than Mom. I just hoped that she would feel the same when I got home, that she wanted to go on this deviant adventure with me...

"How touching..." the man said, his voice dripping with irony.

The woman pointed at his crotch, where a clear bulge was visible. "Again, I reply: you liked it, though!"

He tried to change the subject. "I am just surprised that you were able to push these characters so far and that their world did not collapse. I mean, to make them do this and to make them want this, you surely had to mess with them to the point of destroying them."

The woman leaned back in her chair, thinking. "I guess that they secretly all wanted this. Our magic just allowed to express what they had been suppressing all along... You were not that far off, then, with your desire to see something really primal. It just was sleeping... Waiting for us to kiss it to life... It makes one wonder..."

"About what?"

"How many sons and how many mothers want this, deeply want this? Despite, or perhaps because of, the taboos that our societies develop?"

"So Freud, perhaps, was not that wrong after all?"

As the woman tried to close the book, she noticed that there was still room on the last page.

Mom lay thinking on the bed as her son had left the room. She had never felt the insane level of desire she had felt for him. Of course, she despised herself for giving in after the spell had broken, but she was sure that the same went for her son. Perhaps, then, this was not so wrong after all, if it was what they both secretly had wanted so strongly? Why, then, had she not been aware of these urges before? The semen in her vagina still felt warm, it made her feel loved. Deeply loved. She looked at her husband, who still seemed to be under the spell. Could she ever go back to loving him? He had never made love to her like her son had...

As she thought this, her husband started to carefully fold their clothes, and place them on the floor. Then, he crawled up to her, his face still in a drowsy expression. She thought to get up and leave, before something weird would happen again, as he was clearly still under the spell. But somehow she felt like she should stay.

Her husband placed his head between her legs, and pressed his face into her muffin. As he started lapping up the mess their son had made in her, she quite quickly felt another orgasm approaching. She squeezed her husband's head between her legs as she enjoyed the feeling of his tongue inside of her. Fuck, this was dirty.

But perhaps it could be like this from now on... Perhaps she and her son could deal with the passion and her husband with the mess. As she thought this, she immediately came, what she interpreted as a sign sent by higher powers that indeed her future would be sinful, wild, and better than she had ever dared to dream.