I gave him birth, I shared his berth
by Oediplex 8==3~
She left him at the altar, she altered him. I gave him life at birth, I saved his life, and then shared his berth. It was supposed to be their honeymoon cruise. It turned into my sonny-moon cruise. It is our story, of our voyage; on the high seas, and our discovery of a new world, the land of incest.
I don't expect you to believe this. I hardly do myself. But this is the tale of what happened, and how what was a near tragedy, became a break-through to a new understanding between myself, and my dear son, Samuel.
The hall had been rented months in advance, and we were there with the rabbi, waiting for the bride. I had footed the bill for everything. My husband left me very wealthy, but what good is money, if you can't provide for your loved ones? Sam's older sister, Janice, had an even more elaborate blow-out. This was nothing to thumb your nose at either. But since it was not quite the costly ticket for the ceremony and reception, as with Jan's, I splurged on the tickets for their honeymoon cruise. You only get married for the first time once, right?
Of course, right. So next time Jan gets married, (she found the schmuck cheating on her - even within the first year), it won't be such a big shindig. At least not on Mama's money!! Anyway, there we all were, the bride's limo pulls up. Out gets the Maid of Honor, but no Madeline, Bride-to-be. And Betsy, isn't wearing a gown as she gets out of the car and comes slowly down the aisle. Not a good sign. The Maid of Honor goes up to Sammy. He asks, “Where's Maddy? What's going on?” Betsy hands him an envelope of purple, pink and green, Maddy's personal stationery. All her notes to me about the service and reception, were on it, so I recognized it. I had a bad feeling.
Sure enough Samuel takes out a sheet of note paper, same colors, I can't read what is on it, but her lavender pen has scrawled some hand writing on it. The engagement ring drops to the floor out of the envelope, and Sam takes out the note. SHIT! That girl was the love of his life. He reads the note, silently to himself.
He looks at me, then at Jan, then at Daddy in the sky, though I am sure that if he is a ghost, Jacob's sitting next to me. Samuel looks to the crowd and says in the softest voice (if the place wasn't dead silent, I doubt he would have been heard), says Sam, “The wedding is off.” Then his eyes roll up, and he drops to the floor, like the ring did. Fainted dead away. He lived, but when he came to, he was in shock.
Dr. Schwartzenburger, our long time family physician, (of course he was there – everybody was) had somebody fetch his medical bag from his Mercedes and gave poor Sammy a shot. A sedative, then wrote a prescription for a few pills of a lesser dose. Jan volunteered to run to the pharmacy, but I sent one of the ushers instead. The Best Man, and another of Sam's friends, helped him into our waiting limo. I needed Jan with me, when we brought her brother home.
We got him to bed, with a couple stiff scotches, since the pills were not there yet. He went to sleep. I started making a bunch of phone calls, Madeline wouldn't answer, but I got hold of everybody else I could think of, to handle the crisis. I sat with Jan in the kitchen. Jan spoke, “Ma, what now? What is Sammy going to do? He ought to go somewhere else for a while, this neighborhood would be too painful.”
See, Maddy was almost the girl next door, in our suburban community on Long island. Samuel and she had grown up together. What Jan meant was that there would be too many painful memories, being here in this place. He ought not go back to his new condo in New Jersey alone, but what's to do?
I snapped my fingers, having made a snap decision. Not for nothing, had I run my husband's company after he had had his massive stroke and left me with everything to do or to sell. I had built up the business even bigger, since Jacob passed to the big deli in the sky – or where ever they had the best lox. I was used to making executive decisions, nu? So, I did. I made one more phone call to my trusted travel agent, a cousin, and told her what to do. I didn't need a confirmation call back. She had been at the wedding, make that disaster. Titanic, need I say more?
I said to Jan, “He will be elsewhere, he'll be out of the country.”
“Mama, Where are you sending him? Should I go along, and keep him from doing himself harm?”
“You think it's that bad?” She nodded, I thought maybe so too, but I had another arrangement. “He's going on that cruise.”
“Okay, I like the Caribbean, I'll pack.”
“No, Sweetheart, you don't have to, I'm going! I paid for the trip, and can't get my money back at this late date. But I will go with Sammy. Besides getting my money's worth, I haven't been to Jamaica, or the Bahamas, or anywhere down there but Miami, when I go to see your Aunt Sadie.” (That's Jake's sister, we are very close.) “You've been all around that whole area three times. My turn.”
“Right, Samuel goes on his honeymoon with his mother!”
“He should go with his single sister? It won't be his honeymoon, it will be a relaxing vacation. He doesn't have to hang around me, just as long as he doesn't mope in the cabin. I'll make sure he has a good time, if it kills him!” How prophetic those words were, in a way.
So we did. How did Sammy deal with it? Well, the trip was two days after the wedding. He would have had to make a huge argument with both his big sister and his pushy mother. I didn't raise any stupid kids, they might be mashuganah, but not dumb. It was easier just to allow us to steer him into steerage. Not third-class really, we had a tip-top first-class cabin suite. I don't skimp, when it comes to my babies' happiness. Jacob always said, “Money can't buy happiness, but it can make the way clear for it to arrive.”
Besides Sam was so doped up on tranquilizers from those pills, he didn't know we were going to port until we arrived at the dock in Florida. Maybe he thought I was taking him to Disney World. I had always promised, but never quite got the chance. All three of us flew down. Then Janice went to visit with Sadie, and Samuel and I, we boarded the newest ship in the fleet. Boy! was it large, something for everyone. We found our room, and there was champagne and roses waiting, like I had ordered months ago.
He didn't even know I was his cabin-mate, until the lifeboat drill alarm sounded.
“Mama, isn't it time for you to get off the boat?” Something was registering finally, the double pills that morning were wearing off.
“Sweetie, that ship has sailed! I'm your berth-mate! Welcome aboard a two week cruise, all around the Caribbean. Let's get to the the deck for the drill, in case we have to be stranded on a desert island.”
He looked at me, and then around the cabin, but before he could say anything more, the steward knocked on the door. He asked we get to Deck C, lifeboat twenty-two, as quick as possible, please. So we did, and got the life vests on, and all that stuff done with. Then I took him to the stern, found a cocktail lounge, and poured scotch in him until he was ready to crash. Reality could wait until morning.
There was just one hitch to our accommodations. I mean it was a beautiful suite, lovely little balcony, nice furnishings, first class alright, who could complain? Just, it was for a honeymoon couple, it had a queen size bed, one. Not one you could split either like some of the cheaper rooms. And they were booked to the gills. Unless one of us wanted to bunk with the crew. So we change in the bathroom, and the bed was plenty big. What could happen – what, my son would molest his own mother?
So Sammy woke up next me the second day of the cruise. I told my boy the facts of life, so to speak. I explained that I had talked to the head steward, but he could do nothing about the situation but bring in a folding cot. I mean, the place was spacious, for a ship, but the cot was not kosher, as far as my money was concerned. If we shared a bed, it would be like old times, when we roughed it in the Catskills, at that motel one night when there were car problems. Two beds, and Jacob slept on the floor. Samuel was ten and Janice was a big sixteen, and I was my dainty self, so it made sense, right?
So we would not be much in each other's way, all things considered. Sam was still depressed, I had run out of tranqs for him to pop. He wasn't that much of a boozer, so he moped, just as I feared. The second evening, I heard him crying, after he thought I had gone to sleep. But I'm a light sleeper, and I could tell that he needed comforting. I was right there. I held him in my arms, and he cuddled right to me. Just like when he was eight, and his puppy had gotten run over in the street, in front of our house. Jacob had carried the pooch's body into our home, and Sammy came upstairs and broke down.
His heart was broken now, that was for pity sure. Mama held her big boy, weeping his eyes out, until he fell asleep, finally. The next day, I had us signed up for a sightseeing tour. He didn't want to go, but I have my means. I threatened to tell some pretty single girl that he was on the rebound, and have her after him. Of course, I didn't know anyone who would fit the bill, but he decided that me getting my way, was better than some stray gal getting in his way, so he went. We did have a good time, but when we got back to the boat, “Mr. Moper” returned to his sullen ways. I did get him to see the comedian's act at the lounge that night, but Sam never laughed once. And I tell you, the guy was FUNNY!!
So we settled in for the night, changed in the washroom, and I took the inside of the bed, he the outer half.
In the early morning, I awoke and Samuel was gone. His side was warm, so I knew it hadn't been very long since he got up. Call it mother's intuition. I looked, and the bathroom light was dark, the door open, I didn't hear a sound. I turned around, not out on the balcony. I got up, not even putting a robe on, just hurried out to the deck, closest to our cabin.
There was no time to think, as I saw my son putting a foot up on a storage box, next to the railing. He was gripping the bar, and about to hoist himself up. There was nothing between him and the water, fifty feet down. The ship was under full steam, full speed ahead to the next island. I just reacted. I raced over to Sammy, grabbed his shirt, and yanked back with all my strength. I caught him off balance, and he floundered back; then staggered backwards more, trying to get his balance. He finally slammed into the wall far from the side of the ship, and safe from being a man overboard, which he almost was.
I was filled with rage and fear. I took two big steps right up to him, and slapped his face so hard I left red welts on his cheek. I screamed at him, the words I had commanded the little boy with, so many times in the past. “Samuel Moishe Covey! Get to your room this instant! Move!!” Like he was a child again, he held his cheek, nodded and scurried back to our cabin. I was right behind him. I locked the door. I turned, the fright and the anger still flooding my emotions. I yelled, “How dare you!? How dare you take the life I gave you, and throw it away. Over some girl, the whole rest of your life, gone . . .” the realization hit me then, and everything melted in myself to a puddle of grief, as if it had actually happened.
I burst into tears, and managed to say through great sobs, “Sammy, how could you leave me here? Alone, with you overboard and dead? Don't you think that would kill me? How could I live, knowing I brought you here, and you took your own life? I wouldn't be able to take it . . . Oh! God, Sammy, my baby, I love you so much, to lose you now . . . Doonn't die, sweetheart, mama promises she will make everything . . .” I was struck with the realization that I couldn't fix this problem, it was way beyond a dead puppy. It was a wreck, and I felt so bad for him, so sad for my dearest baby. I was overcome with more tears and sobs, and dropped in near hysterics on to the floor.
I wasn't trying to guilt him. I wasn't faking my grief. I was washed out of wrath, and reduced to a weeping woman, weak and sorrowing. I felt his arms raise me, and help me to bed.
He was saying, “I'm so sorry mom, I wasn't thinking, but you don't understand. Please, don't cry, I'm not worth it, you don't know what I . . . I won't, I promise I won't try do anything like that again. I just was filled with . . . I couldn't take it any longer, You don't realize what I . . . It's okay now mother, it's all over with, I won't leave you, I won't ever hurt you. I love you so much . . . I . . . I . . .” We had reached the bed, and I was stretched across it width-wise; Samuel crawled up beside me, and began to bawl, like when his dad had died. It was the deepest, and most agonizing pain of loss, that tore out the soul of a person.
Then, it was my turn to come round, and comfort him. I just cooed, and made little hush sounds, and kept repeating, “It's okay, it's okay, mommy's here, it's alright, your going to be okay” saying those kinds of things over and over again. We held each other in a mutual embrace, and drifted back to sleep. The boat rocked, and the engines were a soft distant thrumming, and even the sun was dimmed by clouds, to let Morpheus spread his mantle of forgetfulness, if only for a little while.
When I awoke, we were still in each other's arms. Nature has her cycles, and this was a male's time of hormones rising. By rising, I mean my son had risen, but just one part, his penis. I wasn't shocked, I was married to Jacob for seventeen years. I knew a morning stiffy, when it poked me. Nothing personal, Sam was still asleep. But it was a nice way to wake a man. I thought about it, and decided, well, why not? He was supposed to be on his honeymoon, right. A little wank on his woodie, wouldn't hurt, even if it came from his mother, making him cum. Perhaps it would release the tension he was under. Worth a try.
I fingered the erect member through his shorts. His shirt was half ripped off, and his handsome hairy chest was showing. The tight belly of a youthful man was beautiful to see. I was in my nightgown, that was half up my legs, from having slid getting onto the sheets. Even if it was my son, I derived some erotic feedback from what I was doing. I had almost lost him for good, now I was determined to make his trip as good as it should be, but not if it killed him. If he wanted to mope the whole trip, stay in the room, so let him. But he was responding to this stimulation, and I was sure I could find ways to rouse his spirits, as well.
Suddenly, Samuel murmured, “Mom!” and rolled toward me. His leg dropped between my thighs, I lost hold of his dick, but now it was rampant on the crease of where my leg joined hip, and it was humping. Within seconds, I felt it pulse, and a small wet spot seeped though the clothing to my skin. At that moment he opened his eyes, and I knew he had just come awake, as he came. His eyes, and his whole face showed that he thought he had done it on his own, and was horrified, thinking that I would be outraged. He began to apologize, and was humiliated with himself.
I had to nip that bad thing in the bud. “Please for give me, Sammy, I just wanted to make you feel good, in some way. I thought that perhaps a release . . . please forgive me sweetheart! PLEASE!” I pleaded. I could see that gave him pause.
“You mean . . . that I . . . that you . . . I wasn't . . . you were . . .”
“I was massaging you, down there, and I made you cum. And I'm sorry, but I thought that it would help. Did it?”
“Yyeess, and noo, that's the problem. That's what I meant, when I said you didn't understand. Why I was so depressed. You don't know what I'm going through.”
“Darling, I have lost a husband, and been racked with grief of all kinds, there is little I wouldn't understand. Try me. Communicate, don't keep it bottled up inside. There isn't anything that you can't tell me.”
“Mom, . .” He opened his mouth but nothing came out, he tried to start again, and failed. The third time he said, “Mom, do you think you can love two people, at the same time?” He held up his hand to signal there was more. “I don't mean like you love me and Jan, at the same time, not that, I mean – have passion for two persons at once, desire both, though you can only have one. Should only have one, that is.”
“Of course, you can. I can, I mean, I understand. Did Madeline have an affair, did she fall for some other guy, and that's why she left you?”
“No. God! this is so hard, especially after . . . listen, it was me.”
“You had an affair?”
“No, I didn't, but I have been in love with . . this woman my whole life.”
Now I was confused. “You're whole life? But you haven't known anyone your whole life but . . .” A horrible thought suddenly hit me, “You don't mean . . your sister! Not Jan – I don't believe it! You have a thing for Jan? Samuel, she wouldn't, I mean, that's ridiculous.”
“I agree, it's not her.”
“I slept with her.”
“Is that why . . . you . . . how did she get aboard the ship? Did you make reservations, on your honeymoon! You were going to cheat with another woman, on your honeymoon? It's like some bad plot in a soap opera, incredible!”
“She made the arrangements after Maddy dumped me. I slept with her the other nights too. Mom, don't you get it, it's you! I'm in love with you.”
“Sweetheart, I know you love me, but . . .”
“Here, mom, read Maddy's letter.” He went, and pulled a wrinkled piece of stationery out of his suitcase. It was purple, pink and green, with lavender script. He gave me the note. I read, it went:
You know I shall always love you. I have since we were in sixth grade. But I realize now, that I can never compete with the other woman in your life. I know she is unaware, but that is between you and your mother. When you make love to me, and call to her when you cum; I feel that I am a third party to the sex. It's not fair to me, and though it breaks my heart to break off our relationship, you know that ultimately, it is for the best. Perhaps you'll find a woman that doesn't mind being a substitute for your mother, but I am not that girl. Goodbye, I will not see you for a long time. Please don't try to find me. If we ever meet again, know that I don't hold anything against you or her. But I won't be her, for you.
Love always, Maddy”
I was stunned. I wasn't sure of the whole meaning, I was still trying to wrap my mind around it. But I started to get a hold of it, when I recalled that Sam had called “mom” when he came this morning, before he was awake. I looked back at the note. “ When you make love to me, and call to her, when you cum” . . . more . . . “ that is between you and your mother” . . . “I know she is unaware” . . . “find a woman that doesn't mind being a substitute for your mother” . . . “can never compete with the other woman in your life”.
I looked at Sammy, and remember his words. “do you think you can love two people at the same time?” . . . “I have been in love with this woman my whole life.” . . . “I slept with her.” . . . “I slept with her the other nights too.” “Mom, don't you get it, it's you! I'm in love with you.” . . . “mom!” and he had cum.
Sam could see the understanding, and yet bewilderment spread over my features, like sunlight creeping over the morning horizon. “Mom,” he said softly, “Do you see what it means, that here I am, on my honeymoon – what was going to be my honeymoon – with the woman I have loved all my life, and lusted after since I had pubic hair begin to sprout, and got Bar Mitzvahed. I've lost my childhood sweetheart, who I was going to marry, and now I'm on a cruise for nuptial sex, with the one woman I can't have.”
“Not including Jan,” he added, “because if Jan was horny enough, she'd have let me pity-fuck her. She told me, but she always can find an outlet. So that was never an issue. That's beside the point. That's why I was so in the dumps. I'm glad you saved me, I was just so crazy with the irony, and frustration, and grief, and lust. Sleeping with you! God, my dream come true, but not. But then this morning you bring me off! I am totally flummoxed. Flabbergasted. But I guess it's best out in the open, finally. I mean, just between the two of us. Though I think Janice has her suspicions, that I have an Oedipus Complex.”
I thought hard for a moment, there had been something earlier, I was half a mind to confess. Oh! Yes! “Dear, do you remember a little while ago, you asked me, if you, or someone, or . . if I could love two people at once?”
“Yes, You see what I meant.”
“ I do. And I did, love two persons at once. I . . . cheated on your father. I had an affair for a year, with someone you don't know. I had met him, and we had coffee, and – well the details are not important.”
“Did dad know?”
“He knew I was somehow troubled, and a bit more distant, sometimes. But I loved him too, and that love was still strong, even though the other love had . . it's own passion. Eventually, my other man move to California, then we said farewell. And your father and I lived . . happily until he died. 'Till death do us part. I was married to Jacob. I think he never strayed. But I can relate to something of what you are experiencing. And I do love you, but the sex thing . .”
“I know, can never happen.”
“No – I mean, I don't know. I did bring you off this morning, I wasn't aroused . . no actually the truth is, I was slightly. But I never thought about it, with you. About having feelings that way, with you. About you having feelings, that way for me. It never ever occurred to me. It's, kind of complimentary, if strange also. Since you were twelve, eh? Huh!”
“Mom, see, I save up for the honeymoon. I . . that is Maddy and I abstained for the past month, to have lots of passion for our wedding night, and for the trip. I even didn't masturbate for the past week. That's one of the reasons I was so, so ready to cum this morning. But the other was sleeping with you, and this morning, when you were stroking me, I was dreaming of you. And . . . I'm still horny, could you . . do that again while I'm awake to enjoy it? If it wasn't something that grossed you out, maybe you wouldn't mind.”
Even the asking, without getting an answer yet, was making him hard again, I could see him rising under his boxers. I felt strange, like there was . . . what was that term they used way back in my college psych class? . . . oh yeah – disassociation. I was floating on a sea, somewhere in a different universe. All the normal laws of physics, and morality, were shifted - or turned over, or cockeyed. Cock-eyed. I wanted to see what I was going to be playing with. “Take off your shirt, take your pants off, get naked. Let me see how my boy has grown into a man!”
Sammy was swift to obey. He looked at me. My tits were easily discernible through the thin fabric. The hem had hiked up to my thighs. I decided to give him some visual aids. I began to strip, and he helped. Moments later, we were both nude on the broad mattress. His manhood stood upright, and my delta was definitely damp. I reached out and began to fiddle with my son's flute. I could see the cock eye, with a drop of pre-cum dew. My nipples were little dark red berries. They wanted in on the action.
Without being told, without permission, without any objections either; Samuel reached out and gently began to pinch the points, in a very tender way. They yearned even more. But I was not going to let this go too far. I was his mother, and these were extraordinary circumstances. He had almost killed himself, if I hadn't come in time, if he were missed too late . . . I didn't want to go there. Just be in the moment, I told myself. Just allow this little thing to happen. It happened before, earlier this morning, now it was again. But we were undressed, and both awake and . . . and God! that felt good on my tits, no one else - besides myself - had twiddled with them for years!
I could tell that Sam was getting near his orgasm. His hips thrust, and he was making funny faces. I must have looked just as silly, because my face was scrunched up too. Then again, as with the first time, Sam rolled on to me. But this time he was between my my legs, they spread and his prick rubbed up and down on my abdomen. His lips went to my breasts and sucked the caps completely in. I felt him release the hot goo on my tummy, and the moment was so wild and erotic, I had a little climax too. Then he rolled off, and we spent a moment, after spending, to catch our breath. The tropical heat made the sweat pour off our bodies.
Time for a shower, before lunch, we had missed the launch to the island, there would be another in the afternoon. We were moored at this piece of paradise for another day, before moving on. I was glad I didn't have to change the bed, or wash the sheets. I looked over at Sam, “Mr. Moper” was nowhere to be seen. “Will you come to the island with me, after we eat?”
“Cum with you, eat you, anything you want, mom. I'm up for it!”
“No, you're not.” I took his limp lump, and wiggled the fat circumcised worm. But if your willing to take a tour this afternoon, perhaps you might get a tour - of a more special sort this evening . . . after the Broadway review show, which I want to see, tonight at eight. This is my holiday too, and I am going to enjoy the sites, and the shows. But good boys get their rewards, okay?”
“Yes, mother.” I hit him with a pillow, then ran, to get to the bathroom first. But not before another pillow hit my butt, and I laughed. This was going to be even more fun, than I thought it would. But I had to set limits, we couldn't simply give into his lust. What I was more concerned with, were my abilities to keep myself within my own boundaries, without the line creeping further into the land of incest.
On an ocean, there are no demarcations of territory. It is all too easy to cross the equator, and not know you were now in a different hemisphere. If you were at sea about your feelings and emotions, it was the same. How do you know, if you have crossed the line? Was there a moral compass, a sexual sextant to tell you where you were headed, and if you were in uncharted waters, then what? Perhaps we were already? But yet this voyage of discovery had just begun. It was a brave nude world.
Our tour started at an old fort. Overhead was a beautiful rainbow. The Lord said it was a sign, of His covenant with Noah. Our arc was our our coupling this morning. It might have been mild incest. It was between two adults. We were over the terrible flood, the danger of drowning, the waters of tears were receding. That was the arch, the arc that bridged heaven and earth, the crossing of the cleansing deluge of emotions. Now we were on a boat, a ship that was the ark that carried love. When would the dove return? Where would we land? The old fortifications were crumbled, the defenses were ancient history, as were ours too. We knew now, each other's secrets.
The beautiful landscape was flowers, and hummingbirds, and sandy beaches. It was paradise, when would our nakedness be discovered, and we, cast out? There was another twelve days to go. The world was made in half that time. How long does it take to destroy creation? Why, every time now that Sam looked at me, did I get a tingle in my pussy? Fruit at the market, like the proverbial apple. Temptation was like those little lizards, skittering everywhere, not serpents, more sneaky, more numerous. I knew where the snake hid. I knew the hole it wanted to slither down (or up was perhaps more descriptive). Am I Eve? Want a nibble on my apples? My son had, and it was good!
“There is nothing like a dame!” “I'm just a girl who cain't say no.” ETC “Some enchanted evening.”
Who knew that so many loves songs were on the program. Was this the “Love Boat”, like that old TV show? Evidently, this trip had set a new record for newlyweds on one cruise. There would be a drawing for a prize, for all the love-birds later in the week. I was sure we qualified.
We ordered some wine when we got back, and sat on the little balcony and looked at the stars. The breeze was like a caress, the wine - a kiss, the stars like . . stars. I ain't that silly, metaphors had been going through my head all day, thinking about what had transpired this morning. From near tragedy, to soap opera, to a love scene. Quite remarkable series of events. The day had been a fine one, the evening delightful; my son a gentleman, and a rogue in plain sight! Now, the naughty side of Sammy whispered an outrageous proposition in my ear. No, not that. We had privacy on the balcony presently, the lights were off, other folks to each side were not in, or had gone to bed. I thought his suggestion over. I nodded, it was too tempting this night, and who knew if we would have another chance to do it, for the rest of the trip.
I stood up and dropped my robe and slipped my gown over my head. All Sam had to do is lift his hips briefly, and the swim trunks he had on, were off. Then we sat down again. Like Eve and Adam, before they were in trouble, we enjoyed the delicious sensation of being naked in paradise. Now the stars winked, the wind was our lover. The kisses were lips to lips, as we held hands, and smooched occasionally. Nothing was said about what would happen, when we went to bed. I was too afraid to bring it up. Sam was thinking about it, as his dick was at full mast.
Finally, a huge yawn signaled to me I was very tired. We gathered up our clothes. Should we put on something? Or not? Sam climbed into the inner side of the pad, and lay face down, sleepy eyed and drowsy. I knew the signs well. So I lay down, without a gown. He rolled toward me, and we hugged and kissed for a minute. Then I fell deep asleep. Sam told me, in the AM, that he had too. And there was evening, and morning was the fifth day.
The sun was in my eyes, next I knew. It was morning. We were naked. In bed. I stretched, and looked at the attractive male body next to me. Was this my son? Yes. Had we done something naughty yesterday? Yes, and I had saved his life. Maybe the little necking had been a part of the reclamation of his soul. A freeing of his spirit, a liberation. Freedom found, in telling the truth.
Truth be told, I was a little horny this morning. Sam was stirring laying on his side, facing me, but his stiffy was not evident. But I knew how to deal with that, but – should I? He rolled on to his back, his penis lolled. I reached over and took hold of it, always a sucker for a fat dick. In fact, now that I had that thought . . ., so I bent down and opened wide.
Just a little I told myself. The soft flesh was like a huge wad of bubble gum in my mouth. But of course, I didn't chew. I did that thing you do with a tootsie-pop, to make the sucker last as long as possible, and get all the flavor. This tasted slightly salty, like the sea air last night, but nice. Soon it was getting meatier. I felt Sammy's hands run gently through my hair. So sonny was awake!
“Mom, that is so good!” he whispered. Now I was making some bobbing, to added inches to my engulfing. He was getting quite long indeed. It looked different from up close. I scooped the fuzzy sacks, in my free hand and played with the two eggs, therein. I decided I wanted to see it cream. It had been a long long time since I had gotten to witness an eruption of male virility. I lifted my mouth off, and used my hand to do 'the barber-pole'. You know, where the stripe twists, going up the phallic symbol. I added some saliva as needed, but by keeping my touch very light, the motion was delicate, the skin slick enough to not cause any discomfort.
I gently squeezed the testicles in a rhythmic way, the softest of pressure. I said in a little breathy voice, “Cum for mommy, Sammy, let mommy see your spurt. You're allowed, cum for mama, let all your jism flow out. Cum for mom, that's it my little man. Show your stuff, cum for ma . .” and then he did. I watch in fascination as the first shot popped a good six inches in the air and landed in my coif, shampoo! Then, another ooze of white milky semen dripped down over my fingers. Like some kind of ice cream melting, and dripping from a cone in the heat. Yes, this pepperoni was hot, but it too melted, as the climax waned the wand.
But what fun! Then his hand nudged me back to lay flat, and I felt a hand glide down my tummy. More fun to cum for mom! I was just enjoying the play, not thinking, only letting the happiness have its morning romp. The fingers were combing through the fur, rubbing the mound, seeking the slit. 'Yes, there!' went my brain, as I raised my pelvis to give the digits the angle they needed, to make my clit protrude. My thighs widened, I was in need of a good cum. My son, was going to make sure I got it.
He obviously was no novice, when it came to making a woman cum, with his hands. The fingers stroked through the folds of femininity, and parted the labia for the well of my womanhood. He dipped and dragged the moisture along the parting and used it to wet the bulb of my clitoris. He sent two strong fingers probing into my cavity, and finding the G-spot easily. His mouth once more suckled on my breasts, the nipples were turgid in his lips. I just settled on my backside and let my boy do all the work. After all, it was my vacation too, I should be able to lie back and drift with the tides of touch that washed over my body.
But soon enough the surf was rolling in, the waves of wanton lust were crashing into the breakwaters, the jetty of inhibitions was no match for the storm of the climax, that swirled in my body. Eroded with desire for relief, my motherhood was submerged beneath the tsunami of my orgasm, that carried all cares away. My call was piercing, as my torso arched up when the peak of passion hit. I gripped Sam's hair and held fast, as if I was drowning, and I was in the ecstasy of physical contractions, and spasms of primal paroxysms. His head began to move lower. I knew exactly where he was headed, 'to go down to the she in sips'. I pulled, and cried out, “No – NO! Not that, I don't need it, I couldn't take it, I wouldn't be able to stand any more. That's plenty, that's more than enough, for this morning.”
God! If he had done that, I would have been totally lost. He could have done anything. Taken me, any way he wanted, and I would have begged for it, again and again. I had to stop him, stop it, stop us, before that happened. He had his heart broken once already, this week. No need to get him any deeper into the mess of this tangled triangle of psychological trials and tribulations, over a mommy complex. No need to get him into mama any deeper. Neither his six (seven?) inch prick that far, nor his mother any further in trouble with her conscience either. That was enough for the moment. We both had had our fun, now it was time to go, and enjoy ourselves in more tame ways. Lest we hit an iceberg, we were in the tropics, but there were dangers in the wetness where we played.
While Sam was in the shower, I insisted he go first, I phone the booking steward and made some arrangements for the next day, it cost some extra for . . call it bacqshish, but where there's a buck you can usually get your way. I hummed 'Here comes the bribe' under my breath as we switched off, for the powder room. I took care of the usual business, and dressed in the simple skirt and blouse I had carried in with me. Today was marketing in the AM, and gambling at a casino in the PM, back on the ship was a magic show for the evening. I bought a nice straw bag and matching hat for our day trips. Samuel got a wood carving of a porpoise, and a wicked looking knife, for a letter opener, he said. But I knew my boy, the blade just looked too cool for him to resist.
Of course there was gambling on the ship most of the time, but it was interesting to see how gaudy and kitsch the casino was. The drinks were free. We won $20 between the two of us, in the three hours we were there. The place was quite slow, almost deserted, We had any slot machine we wanted, but I like the blackjack table, and Sam tried the roulette wheel too. As luck would have it, we were up $120, and Sam said I should place a hundred on whatever I wanted, he was feeling lucky. I put all five chips on red, won, let it ride, and lost. So we quit while we were ahead.
Sammy leaned over to me and whispered, “I got lucky this morning, but I didn't want to quit until you got 'head'.” I guffawed very loud, the croupier looked at us and smiled. He couldn't have overheard, but he knew a risque remark when he heard that kind of raunchy laugh from a lady. I tipped him the twenty, so we were even, coming out the door.
The magician was nothing special until the blow-off, the last trick of his performance. He invited a young couple up, a bride and the groom, dressed for dancing later, she in a lovely gown and he in a tux. The Great Zolotraxan, as he titled himself, placed a scarf around the fellow's eyes, so he couldn't see. Then he place the gal in a cabinet, and latched it securely. His pretty assistant turned the box once, and when the door was opened the girl was in her slip, the gown gone. The door was closed, “Oh we have to return that clothing, what would your husband say?” The spouse is standing by the side of the stage still blind-folded.
Turn of the box again, and now she is just in her underwear, she squeaks, and covers. “Honey,” hubby calls, “Is everything alright?” Zolotraxan quickly shuts the door and and says, “That will never do!” the box turns the third time, the door opens, and there is the husband, dressed only in heart covered boxers, he yells and runs off stage. I never saw him disappear, and where did the bride go? The Great Zolotraxan addressed the crowd. “Well, when they get back to their room, at least they will be ready for the next session of their honeymoon!” says the master of the magic wand. Big laugh from the audience. Of course the couple were shills, and the audience were several drinks happy by the end of the show. But it was a cute stunt, I had to admit.
Meanwhile my own master of a “magic wand” was looking to get back to our cabin for tricks of a different sort. However, I had a slightly different agenda in mind, because of the plans I had made for the following day. When we returned, I gave him the rules of the evening. “Samuel, you must play by these rules, or you will spoil my surprise.” He nodded, but had a hard time keeping a straight face. “I mean it! You can look me all over, touch me only to examine me, like turn me over, spread my legs, lift my breasts. But no sexual fooling around. Play doctor, with mommy. But no poking, kissing, rubbing, no licking or sucking, fingering, and especially no fucking. Promise me!”
He raised his hand in a solemn vow, and nodded. He got the point, I was very serious. I took off my clothes and hung them up, save the undies which went into the laundry bag. After a quick shower, I dried off, and powdered up. Then, I lay on the bed, on my back, without a stitch on. Sam divested his clothing as well, and knelt beside me. I could see that he was erect, but that was going to have to wait for about twenty-two hours. He began with my arms, he held them, and studied their form, like he was a sculptor. He looked at my pits, poked his nose there, and took a whiff. “Lavender talc, like you always use,” he commented. “I remember that smell, ever since I was a toddler.” What can I tell you, tradition?
Then he spent long minutes with each breast, I felt like he was looking for lumps. Or maybe buying melons? The nipples were viewed close up, I though he ought to get a magnifying glass, if he wanted more detail. I can't imagine what navel gazing did for him, with my pipik button, but he found some kind of connection evidently. I mean, there was an umbilical one originally, right? Then he went for the toes. No foot fetish though, just a careful look. I had a pedicure a couple weeks back, so they were not too bad. They could have used a bit of polish, the sandals were making it tough to maintain the lacquer.
He rolled me over and had me spread my legs, then he opened my cheeks. I doubt that he was memorizing the shape of my asshole. I hope not! But I think that he was gaging the angle for penetration, if he was going to do the doggie-position, or possibly during a back-rub, to enter my vagina. Jacob always love doing that, so did my lover, way back when. I think it's because I have small buttocks, my tush is tiny for a woman my age. But then I'm short too, thank God I have stayed thin. Grandma was a roly-poly Pole. I dodged that genetic bullet. “DAMN IT, Samuel, that tickles!” Fiddling with the back of my knees, he should know better, at his age!
He rolls me on my back again, spreads my knees. I maybe could use stirrups? Maybe he will want a flashlight, is there a bear in the cave, or is it just a bare cave? He is leafing through the labia, despite myself my clit swells, and I lubricate. But this is strictly clinical tonight, tomorrow is play-time, a surprise for you too . . . wait and see, or . . read. I got an excellent examination of his genitalia the other day, when I had him squirt. The rest, not so interesting. After all, for most women it's more what's in the head and heart, than shapely calves. Still, a great set of buns is fine beefcake to contemplate, right ladies?
Finally, he was done. I raised my arms, and we hugged. His peter was poking, but I wasn't offering any refuge to the beggar at the door. He would have to stay hungry for another day. I got him on his tummy and rubbed his back. Soon he was softly snoring. Then I drifted off, and dreamed I was a young girl, running along a sandy strand, chased by a dozen boys. They were all naked as Adam, I wore a gossamer diaphanous flowing long dress that billowed with the warm sea breeze. I never let them catch up, but never got too far ahead. I knew how to keep their interest. They followed the scent from between my thighs, which wafted on the zephyr. One young man led the pack. I turned to see his face. It was Sammy.
We needed to get going early for our day's adventure. I ordered room service as soon as I awoke, nothing elaborate, in fact, the fruit we could take with us. We were on our third day at the second Island, the bus was waiting to take us to a special spot. I let my eyes sparkle with amusement, as Sam tried to guess where we were headed. When a sign said 'Dolphin Bay', it was a give away. Being in the water with those animals was a thrill I will never forget, nor regret the extra it cost to bump another couple to the submarine ride.
Maybe not nice, but they were promised another chance at a later port. Dolphin skin is tough, but so smooth, muscles hard but supple too. Much like a mammoth penis in a way, when you think about it, and of course, they are always slick with wetness. They have a sense of humor, and personalities. They are fast, but will come right up to you, once you have been properly introduced. That was a highlight, for both of us on our trip. At least, of the tours we had. There were other highlights, but we will cum to them, later on in this narrative.
When we got back to the ship mid-afternoon, I was starved. We got oversize sandwiches from the snack-bar. Then, we had our picture taken for the souvenir shot, they sell at the end of the cruise. There wasn't a line yet, like there would be later. Janice had clued me in on that trick. Samuel and I played shuffle board with an elderly couple, on their 'third honeymoon'. I mean shuffle board is required at least once, right? Tradition! Then we did a little gambling, lost $50 between us. Keep away from the 'devil's wheel'! I told Sam, as he was the big loser of the day, I only dropped $15 at the slots. Then dinner was nice, with a regular group of folks at our table, we had grouper, or some big fish cooked 'Island style', which meant pineapple and spices. But tasty.
We decided against the vaudeville show. We had seen plenty in the Catskills back in the day. Instead, we opted for catching the early show of a little romantic comedy film, recently out, that neither of us had seen. Then it was time for my surprise to be sprung. I hustled us back to the cabin and told Sam to change into his swim trunks, a tee shirt and flip-flops. (If you get them on the wrong feet are they flop-flips?) I had a similar outfit. I had reserved one of the private hot-tub rooms. They were hard to get, there was a waiting list. Lots of honeymooners, of course. But I knew the booking guy had a family that could use . . . let's just say, they were going to be a few car payments ahead of their regular income. Nobody got bumped this time, just a room was allowed to be used past regular closing time.
I had specified the temperature being about the same as the shallows at the beach. Nowadays, the chemicals are not so harsh, and the water was very nice. The jets were easy to control, I put some on but not all. I had Samuel make sure the door was locked. I turned the lights as low as they would go. Then I stripped. Sam followed suit, un-suiting himself. Not a word was said, as we got in the pool. He was rigid! I wasn't going to let him fuck me, but when we were done, that pole wouldn't be a problem for a while. I mean, I was his mother, and while we had been doing some rather unorthodox activities together, I couldn't allow that to happen. I hoped I could keep that promise to myself. I'm sure that 'OediSamson' had strong feelings, in the opposite camp.
But I was in charge, so far at least. “Tonight, in this tub,” I said to Sammy, “which is a tidal pool for our purposes, or maybe porpoises. And we are not people at the moment, but dolphins. You must close your eyes and find you way around by sound, using echo location. If you find another dolphin, you may frolic with her, but she might not be in heat, you'll just have to discover what she will allow. Do you understand?”
“Eee . . Eee . . Eee” squeaked Sammy, in a poor imitations of the dolphin's call we had heard this morning, His eyes were closed at least.
“Eeee . . Eee . . yourself!” I said and closed my eyes. With my head close to the water, I could hear my son splashing as he sought me. No doubt with mating on his mind, and other parts of his anatomy. I held still, then moved away, as he, not so quietly, sought me. But it was a small pool, and eventually he found me. I went, “Eeeee . . ooo . .eee!” as his hands – flippers - floundered around my torso, and between my legs. I swam away, but he was listening closer now, and followed. I could feel his ventral protrusion, like a rude rudder. My female center was heating the water. We circled, and did a kind of grappling, grasping exploration, eyes still closed.
Occasionally it got awkward, as aiming is visual for humans, but soon enough, we got the hang of finding our way around each other, by touch. He got to move his flippers all over my mammeries, and down where he was only allowed to peer at, last night. I handled his stick, and ran my fingers all over his hind end, and through his chest hairs. What a sensual exhilaration to use only tactile, rather than visual means, to explore another persons body. In water, it was sliding and slippery and smooth, and the muscles were defined in a different way, even that special one that stuck out from his loins. I kept playing the coy female, squirming away, before any overt, or even covert, connection was made.
Finally, I took pity on the poor frustrated fella. I made know my instructions, by guiding him to the place I wanted him to sit. Then I sat on his lap, my back to his chest, my bottom on his boner. I took his hands, and brought them to my tits. He immediately began to caress them. I worked my backside, so that his dick was being masturbated by my ass. The divide of the cheeks nestled that male muscle, and I very carefully made sure that the 'sweet-spot' was never in range of the tip of the spear. I thought sure I could bring him off that way. His lips were at my neck, and my voice was a high pitched “Eeeee . . Eeeee . .Eeeee . . Eeee – Eeek!” The diver had found the underwater cave after all!
I popped up, but immediately turned around and sat down again, facing him. “Don't fuck me,” I whispered as I ground my mons on his man-meat. “But I do want you to cum on mommy's tummy.” He responded with back and forth sawing, on my lower abdomen. It was more dangerous, but I had more control of the situation, at least an early warning system. The other way, I realized if he had found the angle, he would have been up where only his father, and one other man, had been in the last twenty years. And I would have had no defense, perhaps even allowed . . . how did Auntie Mame put it? Allowed him “to do what little boy fishies do, to little girl fishies.” What would that coupling spawn? More incest that would be certain, with that channel marked with his buoy, I would be a long gone gull!
But now I was going to get off this way too, as the head of that pike pushed against my clit and raked along my labia. I sensed it getting lower and lower, but the strokes were longer and longer. It felt soo goood, it had been soo loong. His cock was so hard and long, and just exactly in the right groove. I grabbed him with my arms around his back, my boobs were mashed against his chest. My head was next to his, I whispered moans of encouragement in his ear. His hips were pushing on the built-in molded bench. It was getting too . . oh my God! It touched the hollow! It dipped into the cavity of my sex, a fraction. I froze. I clamped him, to try to stop any more motion. NO! Oh Please! Not . . we can't . . My brain was racing with wild thoughts, I remembered my dream. Sammy leading the pack, my gown was suddenly gone, and I ran down the beach naked now, and Sammy was gaining on me.
He caught me. I could feel the tip was wiggling in the worm hole, the snake was nosing into the . . temptation, scampered past like a quick little lizard, and disappeared into the bush . . I could sense the bulb press open the mouth of my sex . . Oh! Yes I wanted it, I wanted him . . I admitted it . . I can't help myself . . my boy . . almost died . . in, going in, just right there, almost in into me . . what is he waiting for? . . I gave him birth . . life . . now he is returning . . to the womb . . the tip is, is pulsing at the soft spot, the place I need him, the . . Oh God! my clit is . . I'm cumming! . . come on Samuel come into mommy, and cum in mommy! He's cumming . . just at the . . outside . . almost in, not quite . . half the tip . . The only muscles moving for either of us are the involuntary ones, that are spasming with our orgasms . . the climax is so good . . but not what I had in mind. Not what I had planned earlier, not what I craved at the peak of our intimacy.
I am filled with relief, but a sense of loss, as well, for what might have been. The rational is mixed with the emotional, and they won't meld, they just swirl. Like the water that flows around us, washing the fluids of lust away, and reminding us we are in an artificial environment, and our circumstances are not natural. Neither are our desires, nor the the reserve we have shown, (Samuel has shown, I was a rutting slut at the last). Neither of those two forces are what would be the usual happening. We would have mated, or never been attracted. But we did and didn't, are and yet keep apart. What truly odd creatures are humans. That was a close one. But I feel all the closer to Sammy, for the almost, the being right there at the entrance to his mother's core. And closer to him for his strength, to have not gone inside, not loved me the way we wanted to. I don't know where we go from here, except back to the cabin. We dress and walk back in silence.
I order a bottle of that nice wine we had the other evening. We sit on the balcony. In our swim suits, which are dry. The stars stare back. No breeze to cool tonight. I finally let out a long sigh, and look at the man who is my son, who would be happy to be my lover. I smile, and say one word. Ever so softly my voice uttered it, “damn”.
“Damn”, comes his echo.
That night we sleep naked in each other's arms. Not with any erotic ideas, but sensing that we both need the physical closeness, that brings us comfort of mutual love and tenderness. I wake, but Samuel is not in bead, immediately he calls from the balcony, “I'm here, mom, everything is fine, we are underway. There's a big storm headed to the south of that island, and we are going north. The captain decided to switch our agenda around to have good weather for the week. They have a running announcement at the bottom of the TV screen, on all the channels.” We not only get satellite, beamed in, but the boat has its own series of programs. How to gamble, what tours you can book, fish you might see, shells you might find, etc. But who has time for TV on a cruise?
“So, sweetheart, what do you want to do today?” I ask, no tours ashore, when we are underway.
“Well, I looked at the 'what to do aboard the ship if you're bored' channel, and picked some things for us to try. There's bowling, bike riding, tennis, we did shuffle board, scuba lessons in the bow pool at eleven, and a diving pool at the stern, skeet shooting off port side at one, and golf practice on starboard at three. The rock climbing wall is open all day today, but you need to make reservations.”
“Sam, I hate bowling, bike riding is okay, but on a track I'd be bored by the third circuit. Tennis is not my cup of tea, remember my weak ankle. We did shuffle board, I am not going scuba diving, or any kind of diving, except night clubs, those are my kind of dives. I don't shoot, guns scare me; and I don't golf, except putt-putt. Rock climbing, are you out of your gourd? You can try, not little old me!”
“Well, I think rock climbing might be interesting, but I was hoping to do something with you.” He pauses, the rat! “Of course there is ballroom dance practice at ten AM, the sun will be out by one, they think, and the bow pool has a complimentary drink served after two. We could lounge and get wet every once in a while, to keep cool. Work on getting that nice tan, that says, 'I was on vacation in the Caribbean!'”
“You scamp! Why did you go through all the rest of that crap to begin with. Is that the way I raised you?”
“Why, yes mother, I learned from the best, yourself!”
“That's my boy! What time is it, now?”
“Half past eight: we can dress for the ballroom, informal skirts for gals and shirts for men. Sneakers and sandals discouraged. Leather twirls better. After breakfast, promenade around the decks for a little, then head to the dance floor on deck D. After a light lunch, change and go sunning and swimming, until dinner, or an nap, whatever comes first. After dinner, there is a choice of a play, a comedy, or the musical stylings of a troupe of folk singers and musicians from the area.”
“Sounds like a plan!” and that's what we did. When it came to changing though, I no longer bothered with the bathroom. Sam had seen every inch of skin, no reason to be falsely modest now. But that was not going to be common practice when we got back home, when he came to visit. Especially, if Jan was around! Dancing with Samuel was wonderful, and quite romantic. People acted like we were a couple, even though there was clearly an age difference. So maybe it was a Decem . . uh, September-May romance. What did they know, we had the same last name, I was Mrs. Covey – it could happen, right? He was light on his feet, and never on mine (maybe that's why no sandals?), and led firmly just like I taught him, when he was in seventh grade.
After the play, (Sam was laughing so hard, it made up for the comedian) we went back to the cabin and ordered our new favorite wine again and just sat and – watched TV. But we channel surfed. I made Sammy watch a twenty minute lesson on roulette, then he vowed to give it up and try chuck-a-luck, go figure! The wine came, we got naked and went out to the balcony. The neighbors were not in evidently, I guess they like the nightlife, maybe they were at the casino area on board. The weather was sweet, the ocean had swells, we were feeling swell and like sweethearts. It was a great day. The night was about to get very good too, it turned out.
After a while I felt like stretching out, I wasn't sleepy, but just wanted to relax on the bed. Sam followed in a couple of minutes. He got next to me and whispered something naughty in my ear. I grinned and nodded. That was an activity that I would be very happy to have happen. That was a diving I hadn't thought of, muff diving. I spread my legs, and angled my knees wide. My muff was his for the diving. My pussy was ready to be eaten, late night snack buff-et. Cunnilingus here we cum! His tongue was as nimble as his feet, but I hadn't taught him this way to treat a lady. He certainly knew how to give a lady a treat! His lips made my nether lips smile, his attention to my clit was masterful. Just when I thought I was done, he would switch to a different area, and make me grab the covers building to yet another orgasm.
I loved when he would kiss my thighs, then lick them. I never knew I could be so sensual there. He made long laps on the outside of my pussy, then stuck the squirmy-pink-thing as deep as it would go in my cunt, and wildly wiggle. He strummed and hummed the pleasure bud of my most sensitive flesh, until the clit seem to vibrate on its own. Sammy used his breath to both warm and cool the damp folds, the alternating temperatures contrasts making for a unique turn-on.
Every once in a while he would rise and pay attention to my nipples. They appreciated not being left out of the fun. Most of the raunchy recess was devoted to making my crotch a playground for his mouth. My entire womanhood was a romper-room for my child's face. He had somehow shaved before this happy-meal, I wasn't sure when, but the smooth cheeks left no beard-burn. All I had to to was keep from smothering him, when my orgasms made my legs clutch in involuntary clamping.
I climbed to climax after climax. I was exhausted by the time his face gave out and he could no longer lick, lap, suck or hold his neck in position. God, he even used his nose on my nubbin! I hauled him up to me, with what little strength left, and kissed him profusely, Frenching and letting his rod nudge my pudenda. He tasted of me, but it was good; it was messy, but I didn't mind. It was to be expected, after he had made a fabulous effort to make his mama go floating to cloud nine. But it had been a long day, and before anything else happened, before we knew it, we were both asleep. It might have been because of all that sun, it more likely had been all because of my son.
The ship's horn blasted me awake. I was half-asleep. Great, I thought, we've hit an iceberg. I hope they have enough lifeboats. Where are the life vests? Then I realized, it was daylight, you don't hit icebergs in daylight, they only come out at night. I certainly came last night! I cranked my head, and saw mountains in the distance. Was that one of those floating islands? We were at sea, can you hit floating islands in the day? I then came fully awake with the next blast of the horn, we were coming into the new port. A sister ship was passing us on our side. Were we port or starboard? Starboard, we saw lots of stars. No, wine, we had the wine side of the boat. Port was a wine, but we had found a better one to imbibe. My hair was a mess. And my hair-do too. The delta was a sticky sodden mess, and my coif, a rat's-nest. Better to just wash and rinse. What the hell, we were on vacation, right? I was on my son's honeymoon, and the poor guy hadn't gotten laid yet!
Should I fix that? Actually, that was something I could fix, if I wanted to. Dead puppies, no; broken engagements, no: live pussy, yes, - mend his heart, yes, - save his life, YES! Give him birth, give him life; share his berth, share myself - - that was the question wasn't it. The horn sounded yet again, like God blowing his nose. Samuel slept the sleep of the just – just plain exhausted. He had really given it his all, last night. I never had that it like that from Jacob, or my lover. But my son had made me see stars last night. Cum an ocean of orgasms. Tasted my wine, and made me drunk from climaxing so much. And yet he had not taken me, or even tried to, he had respected me, even when I was at my most vulnerable.
I was proud of him. I felt sorry for him too. And for me. I asked myself, what did I have of virtue, that was so valuable to hold back. I wouldn't do it for wealth, I'd spend it. I wasn't married, he wasn't married. What was the difference between what we had already done, and doing it, except degree. There wasn't going to be any need for birth control. Nobody was going to know. Why not, we both wanted to – yes I wanted to. Samuel had wanted to, for years. Now, I had warmed to the idea for a few days, and I wanted to too!
I admitted it, to myself, I admitted it. But it had to be special, it couldn't be by accident. I mean, it almost had been, but it shouldn't be. It should be by mutual consent, and a special occasion, like the first time you do it with a lover. He was my lover, really, now you have to say he was, after all we had been through. It should be like the first time you . . . you do it on your wedding night! This was my . . sonny-moon! I was Samuel's, not consolation prize, rather his surprise.
“Mom, don't you get it, it's you! I'm in love with you.” Only, now I got it. The only question now was, could I actually go through with it? And it's corollary, when, how, where? Well, okay there were a few questions, but the main one was could I, would I, should I? If I let things continue the way they were, I was certain that this Sammy-moon would be consummated. What's a little incest among family, anyway? Right? Even though it might be wrong for some, it was going to be good for us. LACH HYMEN! You should pardon the pun. No virgins in this bed though.
I certainly wasn't innocent, I had bitten the apple of temptation long ago, and tasted the sweetness of forbidden fruit. I knew Sam wanted to nibble my 'fruit of the knowledge of good and Eden', also. God knows, he had tasted all the places I had to offer, except that which was sampled not with lips and tongue, but with carnal knowledge. So be it, amen. Thank heavens, I didn't believe in hell, cause I think this was going to need a big redemption, to make it kosher with the Almighty. On the other hand, look at all the in-house fiddling that went on in the Bible. If they were made righteous, in the sight of the Lord, maybe there was hope for the rest of us sinners. Who knows, right?
My son the innocent, who wanted to sin with mama, stirred. I was suddenly famished. I got us dressed, and to the breakfast table, and we spent an hour sampling everything they had. Jacob would have loved the salmon. They had run out of onion bagels though. We went into port, and did gift shopping for Janice and others. I got a lovely duty-free amethyst pendant. Sam picked up two bottles of a favorite liqueur he loved, but was very expensive back in the States. In the afternoon, we hopped one of the sight seeing buses, and toured the north side of the island, famous falls and old forts, and the Governor's mansion build for a buccaneer originally. Did you know that they made more money from making and selling bacon, than being pirates? It's true! Who knew? Of course they weren't Jewish, otherwise maybe they might have been caterers. Less bloodshed, more profit.
In the evening, a Big Band orchestra was playing, and we danced the night away. They had a fabulous midnight buffet sm?sbord. We could have been rolled back to our cabin, we were so stuffed. That's one thing I learned about cruises, they feed you and feed you, everything is four star cuisine, and costs twice as much. You gain twenty pounds in two weeks, and nothing fits when you get home. So that's why you have to go naked, or go shopping when you get back. Trust me, it's true, ask anybody that's ever gone on a pleasure cruise. We didn't even want wine that night, just fell into bed, and fell asleep. Well, we managed to strip, tradition.
The ship traveled south again, and there was so much to do, even at sea. Sammy did try rock climbing, but I couldn't stand to watch, even though they put a harness on him. I kept remembering the sprained ankle I got, so I went and found a bridge game. We swam, it was our turn to dine with the captain, a charming Scandinavian gentleman who had been a commander of ships for twenty years. I asked him if that made him a Scandenavel officer? He replied that that he never had been involved in a scandal at sea, but if I was interested, perhaps he might make an exception for a woman as beautiful and alluring as myself. Of course, though, he pointed out I already had a handsome escort, to squire me around. I told you he was charming, and the very picture of the good-looking dashing Captain, white beard and all.
Then they made the announcement of which newlywed couple had won the lottery prize of gifts. That's right, we did. I mean, it was nice, and it's not as if I couldn't afford all those little luxuries if we wanted. But how do you explain, sitting at the Captain's table, the name change from Madeline to mine, I was still Mrs. Covey. How do you turn the gift basket down, without embarrassing Samuel, and admitting that he got dumped at the altar, that he was on his 'honeymoon' with his mom. Plus the fact, that we had been taken for a romantic couple, all over the ship by now. We had a rep for being rather lovey-dovey. What do you say? Samuel looked stunned, and was about to give it back, but I elbowed him, and said, “Thank you very much!” And took the prize basket, with all kinds of certificates and goodies. Easier that way, and less to explain. Especially if we got caught on the balcony in our birthday suits. Nu?
Among the prizes was a gift certificate for two at the ship's spa. Massages, make-over, hair, nails, and a private session in one of the whirlpool/hot tub/love-nest baths. For three hours. Private. Sound proof? Well, it was for newlyweds, it had better be, or at least next to the engine room, where loud cries of ecstasy could not be overheard. It was going to be noisy. I am very vocal, when I cum in private. I was curious to see if Samuel took after me, in that. So far, with our suite, we knew we had neighbors, and had been discreetly whimpering, when we went over the top, as we climaxed. But this was going to be a whole other 'ball' game.
After dinner, the Captain invited his table guests to take a private tour. We got to go to some areas of the ship which were not open to the public usually. Except that this was a standard tour, for the first-class passengers when they had dinner with the Commodore. We were shown the engine room, and the kitchens, the some of the crew quarters, and even the laundry (fresh sheets and towels everyday for 976 persons!). Of course the bridge was included, and I even got to steer the boat with my hands on the wheel. Though I doubt I actually had anything to do with where the vessel was going, still, I managed to miss any icebergs that were out there! We were underway to a new island, and yet more adventures, both on land, and at sea, and even underwater. Back at the cabin we snuggled in bed, and caught a program on the tube about tropical fish, then drifted off to dreamland for a well needed rest.
The morning of the tenth day, we had reservations for a submarine trip. This had been suggested by my cousin, the travel agent. She said it was something not to be missed, but was best booked in advance. She was so right! You go in this small sub, about thirty passengers, and the pilot. You're maybe 60 – 70 feet down, but the water is so clear there is plenty of light. There's coral and rocks, and shipwrecks (for artificial reefs), and fish and fishes. Schools of tropical fish, which were on the program the night before, others I didn't recognize, but were dazzling in bright colors. Animals you otherwise only see at the aquarium, were pointed out. Only down there, they are harder to spot, camouflaged. The pilot was our guide. There were sharks of several sorts. Not too scary, when there is a two-foot porthole, three inches thick, between you and those teeth. We were treated a nice size moray eel, and chanced on a small octopus. Octopi, we learned, like to hide when they heard the sub coming. And there was a large squid on the other side, but I missed it.
After lunch we had put in for our 'honeymoon' spa time. Samuel got a haircut, and I had mine trimmed and colored lighter. We both got manicures, pedicures, facials and massages together. I gave the masseuses a fifty dollar tip each, to leave us alone with the bottles of body oil, and not check back for 30 minutes. Then we gave each other some more naughty kinds of rub downs. No place was off limits, so not only did we play with each other's genitalia, but even the anus got a goose or two! Then, I took a bunch of towels, and laid them over the broad couch. It had no back, but one end was slightly raised, you know the sort. I told Sam to stretch out. I got next to him, and poured a half bottle of the oil over our already coated bodies.
Then we slithered together like to eels, mating. But we didn't screw, we just had slippery fun, rubbing against each other like those Turkish wrestlers. But we were not having any kind of conflict, just the opposite, we were involved in a mutual grappling of a love-feast. With lots of French kissing and feeling-up, but no climaxes were allowed. I promised that was for a little later. Thank the goodness the masseuses knocked, when they came back!! Then, as if we hadn't enough of indulging of togetherness, we showered together, the soap and shampoo were scented. I chose lavender for me, Samuel had spicy-lime. We smelled good. After a bite to eat, and a couple of drinks at the closest bar, we went back to the spa for our three hour reservation, in what was called the “Honeymooner's Deluxe Water-Nest”.
It as a huge hot tub, a small heated pool, really. It had jets, and water-whirl effects, and padded broad benches, so you were up to your neck if you sat. You could stretch out on the side of the water too, on a six-foot pad that also was good for floating on the water. There was a full-sized fridge, filled with fruit drinks, and cheese and soda, and all sorts of snacks of that kind. And while no wine or booze was allowed, they had a variety of cold beer too. There was even a little floating table for drinks and food! The door had a lock, a sauna was situated on the side, the toilet and a shower on the other.
The place had all that you could ask for. Including time and privacy, and (I checked!) sound proofing. It was time to consummate our sonny-moon, the mommy-son coupling that had been gradually gaining ground, while we were voyaging at sea. I had come to accept it as inevitable. Sammy had waited for it for much longer, but never thought the day would arrive. Samuel's dearest desire was to make love to his mother. I loved my dearest son and wanted to make his desire cum true.
I reached over and took off Sam's big fluffy terrycloth robe, which they had given each of us. We got to keep them, they were part of the deal. Sammy relieved me of my robe. He hugged me, my mature breasts were full, and the erect points pushed into his chest, as he reached behind and undid the ties of my top. The strings at my neck and at the back came loose. The only reason the it didn't land on the floor, was because the press of our bodies was the only thing holding it up.
I hooked my thumbs in his waistband and worked his swimsuit over his hips; it did fall to his ankles. Likewise, he then loosened the knots at the sides of my bottoms, and they landed next to his, as well. Sammy released his hold for a moment, my top dropped, then we were sans suits, and in each others arms. The garments puddled at out feet, white icing with floral swirls. Sam bent over, scooped them up and tossed them into a corner, They were superfluous fig leaves, in this, our Eden.
There were steps, but we just jumped in. The lights were on, but it was soft indirect lighting. Sam found a remote on the floating table, and discovered there was mood music available. We agreed on a kind of a new-age mellow melody, that was a duet with harp and piano. Sammy took me in his arms, and sort of swayed me - swam me, in time to the music. As if I was Esther Williams, doing ballroom. And that's what this place was, a water room for balling. A bathtub for boffing. It was time to make our connection, to rejoin in body, mother and child, now man and woman.
Male and female, the Creator made them. He made them to mate, cleave; I could feel my son's manhood at my womanly cleft. I was lubricated and ready. He swung me over to an underwater seat, and lined up his shaft with my submerged cave. The Samuel eel swam in my sea-weeds, then retreated, and darted again. This time the head found the crevasse it sought, and his blunt front nudged through the portal. We both let out a sigh/gasp sound of pleasure.
But there was yet much more, to delving in the hidden depths of heated wetness. So this masthead, the prow of Sam-son's muscle, full strength, with pubic hair unshorn, entered my temple of sin and lust. His pillar pushed at the place, where Delilah delighted to entertain. He plowed where his sire had sown, he lunged into where my lover had stabbed. He went into where he had come from, and where he was going, he would cum, too. I opened for his harpoon, the spear penetrated flesh, and went deep to the heart of my center, touched bottom, bumped my womb.
For a long and sweet moment it hesitated, then began the ancient rhythm, the beat of love, the cycles of sexual swaying to instinctual intercourse. Of course, this was incest, this above all else was the lowest we could go in our base cravings, the highest of crimes of this kind. Yet it seemed to me the most sacred of loves, and the most pure of unions. Because it was a spiritual reuniting.
But the physical sensation, was heightened by the forbidden nature of our passion. I was a hole, to be ravished by the peg of hardness that plugged into it again and again. Sammy's prick plied my pussy, making everything in my body feel good. My son's cock jammed in my cunt, and concentrated on making his mama cum. Our torsos were slipping together, as if still oiled. My legs were cantilevered up, supported in Samuel's gripping palms, that hitched under my knees.
We were so primed from the days of foreplay, leading up to this, that we were ready to reach the cataclysm early. Indeed, the paced quickened in a short time. I could tell by the signs of our impending boom, it was near. I felt my vagina tighten, and his strokes became erratic, with the head only going half way. Then banging, and holding it socked against me to the very root, sacks squashed on my butt. Then pounding, as the mad urge of rutting took over.
I now gave full voice to the crazy flashes that filled my brain, and radiated from the center of my entire being. “Yes! YES!! I Needd It!! I have to HAVE YOU! . . Sammy, SAMMY! OH! GOD!!! MY SWEETY SON – Fuck ME . . . FUCK MOMMY, BABY, YES YES YES!! NOW . . UH, Uh NOOWW . . . I'M CUMMING I'm CUMMING on YOU, SAMMY! I'm cumming AGAIN . . AHH! Yes again, MORE, MORE . . Mmmmm . . Uuuh ooh, yes, yeess baby, ooh! that was soo good, Sammy, sweetie!” I smothered his face in kisses, and hugged him as tight as I could.
His penis was pulsing as his prick experienced the aftermath of his completed orgasm. He told me he had grimaced and squealed, 'I'm cumming, too, mom!', but I hadn't heard it, over my own echoed shouts of ecstasy. Still, it was obvious, by the copious flow of jism that floated up, that he had been equally pleasured with our screwing.
The first time had been special, planned, and mutually consensual. And Ooh-Soo-Blissful for both of us! Not a surprise exactly, but not a consolation prize, either. A sonnymoon prize that wasn't in the basket, but it was in the cards. But not a fuck-by-luck; rather a journey home, making the voyage of discovery of each other as individuals. Not just mother and son, but also as sexual persons, people with secrets, hidden lusts, and concealed feelings. Madeline had left him at the altar (okay, canopy), she had left him altered. Changed, but not 'altered' – as in castrated, but liberated, and given the freedom to be himself. He had almost thrown that chance away. Lucky his mother had found him, saved him. Fortunately, he had finally been open about his desires for me. Look what he would have missed!
Well, he wasn't going to miss any more chances, to make love to his horny mama. Because after a beer, washing down some cheese and crackers, we got up on the long mat, and with me kneeling, he got behind me. Then he put his long schlong in and began schtupping his mother once more. Oh YES! I love it! I can't choose my favorite position for sex, anymore than I could choose between Janice and Samuel, as a favorite child. They are each special, and unique; precious and loved for their own selves. But, I do like doing the 'doggie'.
There is something primal and primitive about getting taken from behind. Like monkeys, rather apes; the Bonobos in this case, as they too commit mother/son incest. Animals we are, as well as being human; the raw sensation of being reamed in my cunt, by a hard cock, was positively primordial. With my asshole open to the air, and his testicles banging against my clit, that is so lewd, rude, crude, and naughty, nasty and nice a vice. His tool sawed in me, we were the breeding pair on the ark.
This time I was quieter, I wanted to hear my boy cum, while he squirted into his mother. It wasn't easy, because at that angle, Sammy was hitting my G-spot. I had that zing-thing making my cunny flutter, and the lotion was flowing, as the contractions overwhelmed all thinking. But clear as a bell, came his voice, as he was cumming. “Oh, Yeah Mama!! I'm in, in you, I'm cumming in you!! CUM WITH ME MOM!!, NOW – NOW – NOW!!”
Pow-pow-pow the shot was spewing in my pussy, and triggering a secondary climax for me, as well. We collapsed into a spooning position. Both out of breath, and orgasms, for the time being. Soon, it was nice to slip into the water, to wash off the sweat and secretions, and cool down. After, we both used the facilities to relieve our bladders, Sam got two more beers, and returned to my side. We sat on one of the benches that had jets bubbling around us.
He had to make another trip in a few minutes, as those brews went down fast. Sex is thirsty work! I had forgotten that. Had it been that long? Yes, but it wouldn't be all that long again! Not with what Samuel had confessed, about his feelings for me. Not with what had happened in the last week, and the past hour! In fact, I could see that he was regaining the wood in his lance of lust, even as we were on break. I didn't want to get sore, after all we still had – was it really only four days left, until we were back to . . - four days until the real world again.
Then what? For the moment, I wasn't going to contemplate that fate. I just swung my leg over Sammy's lap, and straddled his saddle horn. I reached down and pointed that proud pecker to the place it wanted to be, and sank upon it, in happy surrender to my lust and love. I moved up and down, Samuel let me do all the work. He stretched out his legs to provide anchoring to our docking, and mama rose and fell like the tide. My boobs were like boat-bumpers, that bobbed against his chest.
Our calls were echoing off the walls. Our cries echoed each others wails, as their pitch rose. The water became choppy with the churning of hips, splashing the sides of the pool, as the agitation of our passion became more and more urgent. Then I thrust forward my pelvis, to capture his dick all the way up in me. My arms straightened, as my hands gripped his shoulders. He grasped my haunches, to hold me in place, as his orgasm pumped in spasms.
My vaginal muscles clamped on his hardness once more, and I shuddered in the last paroxysm of the evening. At last we were done, at last we had done it. At last we were past the barriers reefs that had held us hostage on the island of isolation. Now we could sail with the tide of intimacy, into the intrica-seas of our incestuous involvement. I have no idea what I just was thinking there, with all that nonsense. My brains was scrambled eggs, after having his sausage in me so many times. What can I say? Getting porked by your son isn't kosher. But it is a hell of a lot of fun!!
Yes, we ordered wine when we got back, and sat on the balcony nude, and slept in each others arms naked as well. Tradition? Bad habits? We were lovers. Those are the sorts of things new lovers do. I dreamed Sammy caught me on the beach, and made love to me in the surf, like Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr, in that movie. Only, we didn't have any swimsuits on, and the director didn't yet “cut!”, before the action got even hotter. It was no coincidence that the next island was a private one, owned by the cruise line.
If you had made the reservations, or knew who to bribe, you could get a couple of bicycles, and ride down the paths to an isolated spot. Where you could spread out your beach towels, and go skinny dipping. Or whatever your heart desires, or your sweetheart desires. It wasn't a desert island, but even better. We had a picnic basket, and sunscreen, and dinner aboard the 'yacht' waiting for us when we got back. We got some sun where 'it don't normally shine', and my son shone in places sons don't usually go.
What did we do on the beach? What didn't we. I had his salty dog, he tasted the sea in my shell. He played pirate, and found my buried treasures, I was a mermaid and seduced the sailor. We were dolphins again, we startled the fish, I was harpooned by the 'Mo-bay Dick'. Sand was everywhere, I mean everywhere, when we showered back in the cabin. That was the best island of all.
The comedian was making another appearance in the evening, and this time, Sam almost burst his sides. I laugh too, because it was like hearing the jokes for the first time, sharing them with my mate. Aye! me mate, I say 'ta ye, sailor; ship-mate, bunk-mate, and mating-mate! Sam, sun, surf and sand; and son and sailing, the stars - with wine and wind, and mating and mating and mating!, make for a mighty fine holiday; - no – for a great sonnymoon!
Now it was the slow boat, back to home port. When I awoke in the morning, the sun was high on the horizon already. The son was up too. We were spooning, when I woke. I could feel his early stiffy between my cheeks, making little to and fro movements. Sammy had his top arm around me, and was fiddling with the handiest nipple. Which was turgid, and I was damp. He must have been working on my subconscious, to make it think about coitus. It had worked, and now that I was conscious, I was happy to cooperate and copulate.
I put my hand over his fingers, in a gesture of encouragement, and pushed back with my butt. With a little adjustment, he slipped in, and began to make morning merriment. He didn't get as deep as penetration as some other positions, but that was not the point of what his peter was pursuing. It was a sweet and tender kind of humping. We didn't have to work hard at the connubial connection, but the shivering climax that over took us in just a few minutes, of this syncopated motion, was satisfying. As much a bonding, as any of the other more athletic engagements, when we had sported together.
After a brunch at one of the restaurants, we did do some cycling. Then, just sat on deck chairs watching the sea, and chatted. We reminiscing about family trips, and comparing sightseeing on this voyage, to those memories. Or sometimes we just were quiet, and held hands, enjoying each other's presence and love. With evening, we gambled at the ship's casino once more. I broke even at the Blackjack table, but Samuel won $500 at Chuck-A-Luck, his luck had turned around alright, or bad luck over-turned – if you will. Go figure!
We decided to use the cash to leave generous tips for the maid, room-service guy, our waiter at the dinner table, etc. When we got back to our cabin, we got a nice surprise. A bottle of our favorite wine was on ice, in a bucket, already waiting for us. Along with a little selection of cheese and crackers, for a nosh at night, under a covered platter. Somebody on the staff, had anticipated our desires, a note said it was 'compliments of the cruise line'. Wasn't that so thoughtful?
It wasn't our last night there, but the balcony once more seemed to be providing privacy. I doused the lights in the cabin to their dimmest setting, the moon was bright on the water, as we cut through the small waves that rolled by. I took Sammy by the hand, and sat him down on a chair, then sat on his lap. I'm not too heavy, but I wasn't putting a lot of weight on his poker; because I squatted down, and aimed it at my hole. When I felt it prod the right place, I sank down, and bent forward, grasping the little railing in front of me.
Then we tried to be quiet, as we screwed in as public a place, as I had ever had the nerve to do. There is something about doing-the-dirty, and possibly getting caught inflagrente delicti, that adds a spice to fucking. Just as incest is the more exciting, for its forbidden-fruit naughtiness. So too, the possibility that somebody might catch you in the embarrassing compromise of public nudity, lewdity, screw-ity, had its thrill. We were completely discreet however, right until my climax.
Then I couldn't help myself. I let go with my full contralto cum call. “OH! YES, BABY, LET ME HAVE IT, FUCK ME GOOD, I'M CUMMING, CUM WITH ME NOW, YES!! NNOOWWW!!!” My climax must have been heard up and down our side of the whole ship. It seemed to bounce on the water, and reverberate off the steel, and lose most of its directional clues. But there was no doubt what they were hearing, if others happen to be listening! As soon as we recovered we scrambled back in, and collapsed on the bed in hysterics. We both had a great orgasm with the 'balcony boffing', as we dubbed it in later conversations, but the laughter was even better. We went to sleep, with still a giggle slipping out of one or the other of us, now and then.
The final full day was something of a downer, to start. There were last minute details to be taken care of, and the realization that our romantic trip was coming to an end. Back at port, we would become again, the persons who had arrived from New York. Our new secret identities, would have to be hidden, and we couldn't be the pair we had transformed into, when Sadie and Janice met us at the dock. We had to pack, and make arrangements for a few items to be shipped north, to home. Others had to be declared to customs, though we were within the limits of duty free items allowed. The bill was settled, that was not so shocking, since much of the cruise had been prepaid, in a package deal. Really, it was not as bad as going to Los Vegas, for the same two weeks, in comparison.
One good thing was, our ship-souvenir picture was very nice. It showed the both of us together, in an affectionate pose. That was still before things had gotten serious in the affair,. So it was both a memory of the voyage, and yet one that could be framed, and displayed on the mantle. Without giving away the bond that had come to unite us, from cumming in incestuous sex so many times together.
We didn't talk about the future. Would Sam go back to his condo in New Jersey? He bought the place, thinking it would be for him and Maddy. Would he move back home? Or buy another smaller condo, near me? I wasn't going to move to New Jersey. I still kept a hand in the overall management of Jacob's business. Though in the last couple of years, I had disengaged from the day-to-day running of the operation. I wasn't quite yet ready for full retirement. It was something to do, and made me feel needed. But Sammy's love made me feel special too, made me feel wanted as a woman. I didn't want to give that up either.
So we took care of the mundane things we had to do, that last day, Ate a few more scrumptious meals, and went to our cabin suite right after dinner. Now, there were plenty of people out on their balconies, this last evening. Though I doubt none were having the fun we had, the night before. We sat on the bed together, still dressed up in the formal wear, from the last dinner. There was silence for long moments. “This suit reminds me of the one I wore, for my Bar Mitzvah,” Samuel said.
“Back then, all the way back then, you wanted to get your mama in the sack? I hope I was worth the wait!”
“God! Yes! Mom, most certainly. I wouldn't have been the experienced lover I am now though, just an awkward virgin.”
“I was happily married to your father, and hadn't even had my affair with the other man yet. It would never have happened, back then.”
“I know, but I fantasied about seducing you. I was going to appeal to you, 'Mama, today I want to truly become a man, in every way. I know what it means to be a man, in the synagogue. Show me what it means to be a man in bed as well, please-please-please!”
“Oh, Sammy, I'm sorry, but I'm your mother, and I could never, ever, have sex with you. Don't worry, you'll get to experience that part of life, in due time.”
“What if I were dying, would you let me die a virgin?”
“If you were about to die, and I could save your life, by taking you to bed; I would do that for my dearest son, I love you that much.”
“Could I just see your breast then mom? As a sort of special present, for this joyous day. If I'm a man, I ought to be able to see a womans breasts, right?”
“Why my breasts though?” I thought I knew where this role-playing was going, and I was willing to play along. The ending might be a lot of fun. In fact, I was certain it would be.
“Because your breasts are the ones I love most. I nursed at them when I was an infant. I have admired them as a youth. And now as a man, I wish to see them again.”
“If you really insist then. Lock the door, because some people might get the wrong idea, and accuses us of incest.”
Sam got up and made sure the door was locked. He took off his jacket and laid it on the chair in the corner. “Mama, we have privacy now. No one will bother us.”
“Okay then, but you must come over here to the bed, and take down the top of my gown yourself, if you are to be a man, with mama as your woman.”
He sat next to me again. Then he unhooked the top of my dress, pulled the zipper down all the way, so my back was bare, save for the bra strap. “Now undo the bra.” He managed to do so, even though his fingers were a little shaky. From excitement I figured, not from nerves, like he might have had back then. He was getting to live out a youthful fantasy, experience it in real life. Sixteen years later, but still with the object of his lusting desires, his mother. I was having an adrenalin high myself, acting a part I never would have done then. But in light of this cruise, I was quite excited to star in this theatrical production, as this soap-opera drama, sex-scene unfolded.
“Okay, its undone. Can I see?” I let the front drop, and my boobs were displayed. The tips were very erect. “They are so beautiful, mom. Can I kiss them?”
“I'm not sure that would be right, you only asked to see them.”
“But if this is the only time I get to see them bare, then I ought to be able to kiss them too. That would be the right thing to do, to show how much I love and adore them.”
“Well, when you put it like that, I guess I couldn't refuse you that little present as well. Go ahead, you can kiss them.” Samuel bent down and kissed them, and then gave each one a suckle, as well. “Oh! I didn't say you could suck on them!”
“Doesn't feel nice? Didn't I suckle on them when I was a baby?”
“Yes, it feels very nice. But you aren't a baby any more, today you are a man!”
“If I am a man, then I ought to suckle them, to show you the manly-type of love I have for them.” He latched onto them with his lips again.
“Okay, but I said just once.” It felt oh so very good. I wondered how he was going to try to get into my pants.
“I want to see where a man puts his penis in a woman, for when that experience happens, later on. You wouldn't want me to put it in the wrong spot, would you, mom?”
“NO! that would be very upsetting to the girl if that happened. Didn't they teach you this in health class?”
“They only showed pictures of the internal organs, and cut ways diagrams. Not the real thing. Let me help you take off the rest of your dress.” It was easier with a cooperative woman now, than if he had tried the ploy back then. But this wasn't really back then, and we were here and now, acting in his fantasy. I stood up, and he helped my gown shimmy to the floor. Now, I was just in heels and panties. I stepped out of the dress, crumpled on the rug, and then I kicked off my high-heels. My undies were all that were left on, and they were damn damp.
“Mom, why don't you lay on the bed.” Sam suggested, and I obeyed.
“If you are a man, now, shouldn't you show me how much of a man you are? Let your mother see how much you have grown to be big and strong, and handsome?” Sam nodded and quickly divested everything but his boxers. I wouldn't mind a masculine striptease someday, maybe in the future sometime we could play out my fantasy. Right now though, this was totally titillating enough.
“It's time to see what my love looks like between her legs.” He reached for the waistband, and slowly pulled my scanties down, and then right off my feet. I squeezed my legs together coyly. I didn't want to be too easy. Getting there was half the fun, right?
“Now you, Sammy.” He took his undershorts off, nearly as slowly as mine had been skinned. “Oh! You're hard, and big, and strong, and long! You are very much a man!”
Sammy put his hands on my knees, and gently pushed them apart, until my thighs separated. But he wanted them wide, so he brought them up a bit, and separated them even more, exposing my crotch completely. He looked at the expanse of my womanhood, like he was seeing one for the first time. As if he wanted to memorize it, in case he didn't get another opportunity for ten years. Though in the last week, he had gotten very intimate with that part of me. Had his face in it, a number of times.
But he was staying in character. He reached out his fingers toward my center. “Oh! I didn't say you were allowed to touch, did I?”
“I have to see what it feels like, if I am to get my manhood education, from the woman I love most. You're moist, I won't hurt you. It will feel good, won't it?”
“Yes, but just one finger, no more.” He extended the middle digit, and very cautiously slipped it in. I realized that this was something that for some reason we hadn't done much of, since we had became lovers, and wondered how we missed doing more of that part of fooling around. Well, we were experimenting with it now! “Mm, that does feel nice. Have you had a manicure lately?”
“Uh . .Yeah,” he was moving the finger in and out. “So, it might be even better with two, you're very wet.”
“Just two, no more!” The more he did it the hornier I got.
“Could I see what it's like?”
He moved back, I though he would put his face where his fingers had been. I closed my eyes in the anticipation of getting eatened again. But instead, I felt a blunt hot bulb, push its way into my vagina. It didn't hurt, but it startled me, when I was expecting a tongue. “Eeek! What are you doing. You're not supposed to do that! Especially not to me, your mother. Get off me, this minute, Samuel Moishe Covey!”
“Oh! Mommy, that feels so good, let me become a man in you. Let me put it all the way in, please?”
“God! Sammy, you said you wanted to see . .”
“Yeah, see what it's like, to put my dick in you. You said, 'okay'! You like it don't you? I feel good don't I?”
“OH! Baby, too good! Take it out, before mommy wants it all in.”
“You want it all in? I'm going to put it all in. Then I'll really be a man, in every way!”
“Noo! Sammy don't doo, ooh .. oow . . Yes . . like that!” He had made his move, and was packed in me, as far up as he could go.
“I'm in you mama! I love you mom, I'm going to have to cum, cum in you. That's what men do, they cum in the vaginas of the women they love. Do you love me mommy? You cum too, cum with me!” He started with rapid strokes now, I could tell that the fantasy had completed the cycle. He really was ready to cum, just as if he had been a youth, and was prone to a quick ejaculation. But I had been primed by the fingers, and the naughty nudge of his dick head going into the mouth of my pussy, and then the cock deep in my cunt. The smooth strokes were urgent, and they increased my own crisis to build, at an accelerated pace.
Then I was over the top, I said in a little voice, that was none the less insistent, “Yes, baby, that's it cum in mommy, mommy is cumming too! Let's cum together, and make you a real man! Be a man in mommy, cum in me. I'm cumming now, now, baby noowww!!”
From Samuel I heard this kid's voice say, “Mommy, mommy, mommy, I'm cumming too! I'm cumming in you mommy, right now, me too.” I felt his spurting and pulsing, driving his big meat in my flesh hard, as the convulsions of his climax shook his whole being. Then he looked into my eyes and said. “Today, I became a boy again, becoming a man, in my mother. What more, could any son ask? Thank you, mom for that gift. I know it could have never been, back then. But having you now, in this way, was even better. Did you have a good orgasm too?”
“That's mama's good boy, such a polite son. He learned to be concerned about his partner's pleasure too. You're going to grow up, and make a wonderful lover for some woman. I hope she appreciates the lesson, you learned here between mommy's thighs tonight.”
“I think she does. Of course, when I get older, you could always give me advanced lessons.”
“We'll see. Just don't go overboard, about having a thing for your mother, okay?”
“I promise, mom. If you will allow me to continue to love you, and show you my loving, like I just did, there never will be any danger of that!”
“Good! Then let's try that from the back, shall we?” And I rolled over on my tummy, and spread my legs. Sammy got in position. That anatomy lesson earlier payed off, because he entered into the cavity with an easy clean thrust, and we had some more mommy - and her little-man lessons. Until he fell asleep on top of me, rolling to the side when I couldn't breath. Then I dropped into the land of Morpheus as well, and dreamed of beaches and kisses, and coitus with my son.
Morning all I needed was a couple cups of coffee, and toast. I was too nervous to eat. Sam had OJ, a bagel with smear, and fruit salad. We got our debarkation number, and the bags had already been picked up, as we wandered the ship waiting for our section to be announced to go ashore. We were going by the pursers office, when Samuel stopped to read a poster. He turned to me, with a glint in his eye, and a huge smile.
“Becky,” for the first time I could ever remember, Sammy called me by my name, instead of by mother, or mom, or mama, or mommy; “Rebbecca, would you like to sign up for an 'anniversary' cruise for next year? The first twenty couples, get a ten percent discount on first class tickets.”
I looked at my son's smiling face, so different from when he had come aboard ship. I looked at my Sammy's crotch, so changed since he had cum in his mother. It was tenting in anticipation, even now! There was only one right and appropriate answer I could give, though to the world it would seem improper and inappropriate. But who knew what was between the two of us, that had altered since that day Madeline had left him. I looked at Samuel, and smiled back. “Ahoy Vey! Would I!!”