The Chair

She rubbed her temples and walked toward her bedroom. Opening the door, she saw Jon pinning a woman against the opposite wall, fucking her. Holly slowly closed the door and walked back to Sam's room.

"I'm going with you. I'll drive," Holly said.

"You don't have to; it's fine."

"There's nothing here for me. I'm coming with you. We can leave tonight."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'll pack a few things and call your Aunt Julie. We can stay with her."

**

Sam looked to the street lights as they approached the interstate for their several hour drive north. His mind was rebuilding, reconnecting, but not yet there.

"What else do you remember, Sam?" Holly asked, looking over to him.

"Not much. I know she's gone. I remember the funeral, I remember driving down here and getting into a wreck. But the events leading up to that are fuzzy."

"Do you know why you drove down here?"

Sam shook his head, "No idea. I think I just wanted to run away."

Holly thought about holding his hand as she drove, but things were different now. He knew she was his aunt, not his mother. She wanted to ask about their relationship, but kept quiet and drove, leaving Jon and Miami behind.

Chapter 8

They arrived at Julie's new Charleston home just before dawn. Julie had gathered a few things at Sharon's house, mainly clothes for the colder weather for Sam.

Holly marveled at the huge home Julie and her son lived in. Sam was already asleep in his guest room; Holly was asleep in hers not long after.

Julie fixed breakfast a couple hours later. Afterward, Sam kept mostly to himself. Holly and Julie chatted about what to do with Sharon's house, various finances, divorcing Jon, and Sam's health. Holly went on to describe how Sharon's death changed her for the better. Julie encouraged her to contact her children, something she still hadn't gotten the courage to do.

After dinner, Sam eating alone in his room, Holly hugged Julie goodnight. She noticed Julie's son quickly darting into his mother's room. Holly thought nothing of it and headed to the shower.

A couple hours later, lying wide awake in bed, thinking about Sam, her future without Jon, and hopefully with her kids, she heard a moan.

She heard another one a few minutes later. "Is that Julie?" Holly thought. She got out of the bed, cracked her door and listened. She heard another woman moaning a couple seconds later.

Holly wondered if Julie was dreaming, or masturbating. She shrugged and closed her door. Before it shut completely, she heard another moan followed by a "shhh." Julie wasn't alone.

Stifling a giggle, Holly's curiosity got the best of her. She tip-toed down the hall wondering what guy her sister had snuck in.

She heard softer moans as she got closer to Julie's bedroom. The door was cracked slightly for some reason.

"Yess," Julie hissed, another "shhh" followed.

Holly carefully, sneakily, pushed the door. The house was brand new, no creaking or cracking, no need for WD-40 on the door hinges; her act was silent.

Holly saw Julie straddling someone, a man's hands sliding up and down her bare back. "Who is this guy? Holly thought. "Ugh, this is wrong. I better go."

Something caught Holly's peripheral vision as she turned to leave. Glancing back once more, she did a double take, and then covered her open mouth.

Holly saw Julie, now lying on her back, running her hands up and down Julie's son's torso and chest. Her legs were locked around his waist. Julie's son leaned down, kissing his mother passionately. Holly saw his hips thrusting slowly.

She hurried back to her room and closed the door. The incestuous act she'd witnessed sinking in. She couldn't believe what she saw; anger, confusion, setting in. She thought of her own son, imaged making sweet, tender love to him. "No," she shook her head in disgust. They weren't close.

Sam popped into her head next. She saw herself and her nephew kissing like Julie and her son, rolling around in bed, making love. Holly was wet. Her fingers slid into her pajama pants, finding her clit, massaging it.

She landed on the bed, thinking of Sam, imagining him on top of her, holding her down, looking into her eyes as he took her over and over again.

"Yes!" Holly whispered, plunging two fingers into her soaking, wet pussy.

Holly removed her pajamas, pretending to throw them at Sam. She went to all fours next, one hand rubbing herself, finger fucking herself.

"S-Sam!" she hissed, her eyes closed, seeing him hold her from behind, pumping in and out of her.

Just before Holly climaxed, she stopped herself. "No. This is wrong too."

Feeling foolish for lusting after Sam, and disappointed in Julie, she gathered her pajamas and climbed back into bed.

The next day, she barely spoke to Julie, or anyone really. She took a long walk, alone, on the nearby beach, enjoying the cold weather.

Arriving back at Julie's house, with her supper cooling, she nodded to her sister sat at the table. "You alright?" Julie asked.

"Fine," Holly lied, avoiding eye contact. "Just a lot on my mind."

Holly slept soundly that evening, no moans to wake her. She woke the next morning to find Sam, alone, on the back deck.

"Hey," Holly took a seat next to him.

"Hey."

"Listen, about things in Miami, I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I thought you were her; you wanted to spare my feelings."

"I did. I miss her, I just thought," she sighed, taking a sip of coffee.

"I said it's fine."

"Ok," Holly nodded, watching her nephew look out over the covered pool.

"Do you need anything? We're here to help," Holly asked.

There was a long pause, Sam shook his head.

"Alright, I think Julie is cooking breakfast again. It'll be ready soon," Holly stood to take her leave.

She opened the door, Sam spoke up. "There is one thing you could do."

"Yes, anything," his aunt nodded.

"There's someplace I need to go. I don't know what's there, but I have the address. Can you take me?"

Chapter 9

Sam looked to the passing trees later that afternoon. Holly had been driving for three hours on the way to a destination he wasn't completely sure he remembered. His mind was rebuilding, reconnecting, but not yet there.

The car ride was mostly quiet. Holly happily drove him, using her car's GPS navigation, to the address he provided. They were far from the coast, approaching the mountains.

It was near 1pm, they left Charleston after breakfast.

The interstate turned into a small road, the small road turned into other small roads, one of those eventually turned into a small gravel driveway. It was unkempt, foliage creeping on it; there was a small yard, which hadn't been mowed in months.

Holly came to a stop at the end of the driveway. Sam slowly got out of her car and stood, looking onward. He was looking at a cabin.

Holly got out of the car, the cold mountain air visible on her breath.

Sam approached the cabin, stepping up the front steps. Holly looked over the structure. Leaves from autumn remained all over the walkway and front porch. There were a few large branches strewn about, fallen from a storm a couple of months back, one of them blocking Sam's way. He pulled it onto the yard and made his way up the stairs.

"Sam, this cabin, do you - "

"Yes. I know it. Now I do."

"What happened here?"

"I don't remember," he answered, approaching the door. The door was damaged, the door knob barely attached. Sam easily pushed it open revealing a darkened interior.

"Careful," Holly said, following closely behind.

Sam looked all around the empty cabin. The furniture was gone, dust was everywhere. The fireplace in the living room was cleaned out, no wood or activity. He shook his head, it was so familiar, but he couldn't place it yet.

Holly followed him through the tiny hallway into an empty bedroom. There was nothing there.

Next was the kitchen. An empty refrigerator, no electricity. Sam turned the kitchen sink faucet, no running water. He struggled to figure it out, struggled to remember this cabin.

Sam walked toward the screened in back porch. Sliding the glass door aside, he stared at an object in the center of the porch. He froze, not looking away. It was a small wooden chair.

"Sam," his aunt said from behind. Sam's eyes were fixated on the chair. She placed her hand on his shoulder. "What is it? Talk to me."

The memories returned. Staring at the chair, everything came flooding back in, everything that happened in the cabin. This one object triggered it. Sam started crying, moving toward the chair.

"Sam?"

He said nothing, going to his knees in front of the chair, tears dripping off his face.

"Oh no," Holly said, her own tears welling up. "This is it. This is where your mother, this is where she died."

Sam was crying profusely, shaking his head. "No."

"What is it Sam? Please tell me," Holly said, kneeling next to him, holding him.

He coughed and sniffed several times, mustering the ability to speak. "This, this is where, we," Sam shook his head.

"Please tell me, sweetie. You can tell me anything," Holly comforted him.

"This is where we first made love," Sam blurted out, his inconsolable crying returning.

He stood, leaving Holly in shock, facing away from her and the chair.

"Tell me everything you can remember. I want to know it all," Holly whispered, holding Sam from behind.

**

It was a hot September night. Sam and his mother arrived three days earlier. She unloaded the groceries, unpacked, and cooked supper the first night.

Sam couldn't sleep again. He wouldn't let himself sleep. He was going to protect his mother, Sharon, the love of his life. He would never allow her to be hurt again.

Sharon pleaded with him to come to bed. As much as he wanted to hold her body against his and go to sleep, he couldn't. He had to stand watch.

Sam sat in the chair, the lights off, staring out into the woods. If George was going to show up, Sam figured he'd sneak around back, Sam would be waiting for him.

Sharon assured him George wouldn't find them at the cabin. Sam had to be sure.

On this third sleepless night, crickets and summer sounds filling his ears, he dozed off. Moments later he shook himself awake, he had to be ready.

His head dipped and he nodded off again. Sam was awakened by a hand on his shoulder. It was his mother's.

"Sam," she said. "Please come to bed."

"Can't," Sam shook his head.

Sharon moved in front of him, her silhouette showing against the full moon and starry night. "Sam, please?"

"Mom, I can't. I have to keep watch. I can't let anything happen to you."

Sharon stepped closer, she tipped Sam's chin to face her. She stared at his moonlit face, "I love you."

"I love you too."

Sharon removed her tank top, letting it land on the floor, her bare breasts on display. "Mom? What are you doing?" Sam whispered.

"If you won't come to bed, I'll have to improvise," Sharon slid her pajama shorts down, revealing her naked body. She slowly straddled Sam as he sat in the chair.

"Make love to me," she whispered.

"I've wanted to for so long," Sam said, caressing her face. Sharon nodded. Sam pulled her in for a kiss, sending electricity from his mouth to hers.

She moaned, their breath ragged, hearts racing. Sharon lifted up, constantly kissing Sam's lips. She assisted him with unzipping his shorts; he unbuttoned them, lifted and slid them and his boxers to his feet. Their mouths still connected, Sharon grabbed his cock, moaning when she felt his powerful erection.

"My son," She broke the kiss, temporarily before sitting Sam again, this time guiding his cock into her dripping pussy.

She nearly came when he entered her.

Straddling him on the chair, Sam kissed her neck, her breasts, finally her mouth once more.

"I've wanted this so long, Mom," Sam said.

"I'm yours then," she grabbed his face, staring into his eyes; her hot breath on him. She began slowly squatting up and down. Her pussy contracted almost immediately, his moans and whimpers caused by her, sent her over the edge.

Her friend Nikki was right, the best she'd ever had, and she hardly did anything.

"Sam!" Sharon sat down on his cock, arms around him, shaking, cumming. "I love you! I love you!" she kissed at his face and mouth.

"Mom!" Sam clenched his teeth. Sharon almost forgot to keep squatting up and down on him until he filled her pussy with cum.

She did just that. Her slow squats became fast bounces. She was bouncing up and down on her son's dick as he sat in the chair, holding her.

He couldn't last long. His secret love for this woman was spilling out of him in the form of semen. He gripped her waist, watched her bounce and erupted inside her.

"Ahh!" Sam cried out. Sharon did the same, grabbing his face again, kissing him hard once more.

They were one now. It was short and sweet, but beyond perfect.

Sam would be ready again soon. They held and kissed one another on the chair until Sam's cock was at full strength again. He stood, Sharon straddling him, held his mother by her ass and headed to the bedroom.

He was on top, slamming into her, holding himself up with one hand on the wall, the other holding her head. Their eyes were glued to one another, her legs locked around him, holding Sam there.

He wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon.

There was no guilt, no reluctance when Sharon gave herself to her son, her protector. Nikki was right, nothing compared to it. She speculated Julie and her son were like this, now she was with Sam. Sharon survived an attack in her home, her son was by her side, never leaving; now here she was thanking him properly, like a man deserved.

They climaxed over and over for the next four days. They hardly ate, hardly slept, and rarely got out of bed. If they bathed, it was together. Getting out of the shower, cock embedded in her, Sam continued fucking her. Their freshly clean bodies would be sweaty again in minutes.

He never wanted it to end.

On their seventh day at the cabin, it did end. It ended when George showed up. He took them by surprise, catching them in bed together.

Sam attacked him, knocking the bigger man to the ground, pummeling him with fists. George had a gun. He threw Sam off him and fired, missing the younger man.

He didn't miss Sharon though. George quickly aimed at her heart and fired. Sam tackled him again beating him without realizing what happened.

George's grip loosened on the gun, his task was complete. Sam got off him, his barely conscious body lying there.

Sam looked to his lifeless mother, no expression on his face. He turned to look at the gun, picking it up, his finger on the trigger. Sam pointed it at his own head, his world was gone, no point in him living.

George stumbled up, limping toward Sam.

Sam removed the gun from his head and pointed it at George. He fired three times, leaving one round left. Sam walked past George's dying body to his mother. He didn't know if it was real or a nightmare. He tossed the gun aside and held her.

Chapter 10

"I didn't know what to do," Sam was crying again. "I just held her for awhile, then I called 911."

"Sam," Holly was crying too, moving in front of her nephew.

"She was gone, she meant everything to me."

"I know, I know, sweetie."

"Paramedics arrived, took her and him away, cops talked to me. The gun was his; he died on the way to the hospital. He confessed. He admitted to it. That's what they told me."

Holly held Sam, unsure what to do just like he was with his mother.

She let him cry, mourning the love of his life again, after his memories returned completely. Holly caught a glimpse of an object behind Sam. It was the chair.

Holly stared at it, recalling Sam's words and behavior in Miami, "They gave each other everything. It makes sense now. They were going to move into Sharon's bedroom- as lovers."

"What color was she going to paint the bedroom?" Holly asked.

"A light yellow color," Sam sniffed.

Holly looked to the chair one last time, then up at her nephew. "Sam, I'm not your mother. I will never be her, or be able to replace her."

Sam sniffed again and nodded.

Holly paused, taking a deep breath, thinking back to witnessing Julie the other night, learning of Sharon and Sam's love at this cabin, nearly cumming to thoughts of Sam herself. She took a step back and removed her jacket.

Sam watched her unfasten her belt, pulling it away, unbutton and unzip her pants, pulling them down and stepping out of them. Holly removed her shirt, unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the ground. Finally, she stepped out of her panties, standing nude before her nephew.

"Holly, I - "

"Sam, let me take care of you. Let me love you like she did. Let me continue what she started here and love you like you deserve," Holly placed her hand on his face.

"Will you sit in the chair for me?" She asked.

Sam looked over her large breasts, the back of his fingers slowly sliding over an erect nipple. He looked into her eyes once more and nodded.

He walked backward, his leg hitting the chair. He looked over his shoulder and sat down on it. Holly straddled him, just like Sharon.

"Sam, I love you. I'm yours, just like she was. Do you understand?"

Sam nodded.

"Good. Now let me show you how much you mean to me," Holly said, grabbing his face, pulling it to hers. Her mouth covered his, she moaned, lapping at her nephew's lips. Her tongue found and danced with his.

She broke the kiss, out of breath, "Yes, here." She grabbed one of her breasts, offering it to him.

Sam grabbed it, sucking it, squeezing it. There was no milk in it, but he symbolically drank from his aunt's breast. Holly's eye's fluttered, she arched her back for him. His mouth felt so good on her.

"Oh Sam," she cried.

He switched to the other tit, sucking it as well. Holly was overcome with desire; she stopped him, kissing him again. She stood, her mouth still connected to his, assisting him with undoing his pants. Sam lifted off the chair, allowing Holly to pull them and his boxers to his feet.

His aunt straddled him again, her hand on the base of his cock. Holly guided it into her all the way and sat there, running her fingers through his blond locks.

"Sam," she nodded. "Let's make love and send it to her."

He smiled back and pulled his aunt in for another kiss. Holly slowly squat up and down on his cock, her pussy, nearly dripping, was already contracting around him.

"Oh yes, yes!" She cried, resting her hands on his shoulders. She kept going, up and down, looking into his sweet face.

She was climaxing hard, the first orgasm she'd had in ages. "Sam!" she hugged him tight, shaking in his arms - the best sex she ever had, and they had hardly done anything.

She started bouncing next, her desire to milk her nephew's cock was overwhelming. She wanted his seed inside her, filling her womb.

"Cum for me, cum for her," Holly begged.

Sam nodded, gripping her ass and hips, as she bounced. "Together."

"Ahh yes! Sam! I love you! Just like her!"

"H-Holly!" he cried out, his face wincing from pleasure.

Warmth mixed with electricity traveled up Holly's spine. She climaxed for the second time on her nephew's cock. He was cumming too.

"Fill me!" Holly managed to blurt out breathlessly.

"Ahh!" Sam tensed up and jerked, his cock exploding inside his aunt. He moaned for several seconds with her, as he filled her to the brim.

They came down off their mutual orgasm, breathing heavily into one another's face. They kissed tenderly until Sam recovered strength.

Chapter 11

Sam thought about burning the chair, using it in the fireplace that evening. Holly said not to. She suggested leaving it right where it was in this abandoned cabin. Sam agreed with that and opted to search outside for wood to use instead.