The Forbidden Shore

Clearly savoring my silent, but awestruck response, she smiled just a bit uncertainly and asked, "Do you like, Peter? I've never worn anything like this before. I hope I got it right."

"Holy shit, Mom!" I exclaimed, finally finding my voice.

"I ordered them the day after Christmas," she explained, "And they didn't arrive until late yesterday."

Pulling her to me, I gave her the best kiss I could muster and she relaxed against me, giving out a small moan.

"It's perfect, Mom. You're perfect. You didn't need to do this for me. I'm...I'm just blown away."

"Mmmmm, I'm glad my son likes his Momma's sexy clothes," she purred. "I thought quite a bit about what outfit you might enjoy. I'm so happy you like it. This is a first for me, having racy underthings. It makes me feel very naughty and sexy that they're for my son to enjoy."

"I'm glad I waited for this, Mom. It's worth it a hundred times over. What an amazing surprise."

"Who says the surprises are over, Peter? This is going to be a day of firsts," she explained. "Close your eyes now and hold out your hand, I have something else for you."

I complied immediately and felt her press a medium-sized cylinder into my hand. When I opened my eyes, it took a moment for things to sink in through my thick skull. "Pjur," I said aloud, still not fully connecting the dots.

"I've officially lost my mind, sweet boy," Mom explained. "I've decided it's time. I want you, uhm, you know, back there."

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed, thunderstruck. "Are you sure Mom, really sure? I'd love to do that with you, but there's no way I'm going to hurt you, no way."

She smiled tenderly and ran a finger along my cheek. " I know how much my son loves me. I know I can trust him. I also know he wants Momma's ass so much."

Reaching into one of her shopping bags, she said, "Soooo, Momma's been doing her homework. I think I have everything I need here."

In short order, she produced a small, slim vibrator, an "average" looking purple dildo and an enormous, shiny pink monstrosity with a raised tracery of exaggerated veins along the entire shaft.

I think I must have looked a bit bug-eyed as Mom brought out her new toys, because she laughed at my expression. "What's the matter, big boy? Now that your Mom has gotten her expert advice, she knows what she needs to do. Preparation is everything when you want your big dick son to fuck your ass."

"We'll work through the progression slowly, lover. I'll let you know when I'm ready for each step, okay?"

I swallowed hard, reality hitting home for the first time. Mom laid herself down next to me and put her arms around my neck, giving me a thorough, soft and loving kiss. "Take you time and do what comes naturally, son. We're not following a recipe. This is all supposed to be fun and feel good."

Nodding, I moved between her thighs, kissing the insides softly. I found her wet center and delved deeply, then splitting her flower as my tongue traveled upwards to caress her already prominent nubbin of pleasure. Her hands anchored themselves in my hair and she canted her hips forward, questing to meet my tongue. A small croon of approval escaped her lips.

I lashed her clit gently until her hands tightened around my ears and she began moving her hips in short jerks. Backing off to a tiny, disappointed moan, I let my tongue trail down to her perineum, eliciting a slight gasp as I laved the area between her two treasures.

Grasping her firm cheeks with both hands, I lifted her up and spread her legs wide, my tongue circling around her brown asterisk, but never touching. While doing this, I slipped a finger into her moist portal, slowly sawing it back and forth. The effect was immediate.

"Oh Jesus, Peter! What are you doing to me? It's so good!" she groaned. I circled my tongue closer to her most secret place, nearly dipping into it.

"God, you're so nasty, licking Momma there! Don't stop, please, don't stop!"

Sensing her closeness to the edge, I paused for a moment, then I dove in fully, stiffening my tongue and breaching the barrier of her rosebud. At the same time, I curled my fingers upward within her vagina, vibrating them rapidly. Mom's legs stiffened straight out and she shook violently with her release, chanting, "Oh my God, OH MY GOD!" over and over again.

As her aftershocks subsided, I looked up the valley of her thighs and over the soft hill of her belly to see her smiling beatifically. "You are very, very naughty, Peter Heimdahl. You are the nastiest boy I've ever known and I love the way you eat Momma's ass."

"Now, let's have some real fun," she said, taking the lube from the bedside table and tossing it to me. Never one to disappoint my mother, I applied some of the Pjur to my fingers and began teasing her bung gently, slowly working one and then two fingers into her virgin tightness.

Within a few minutes, I had her clawing the bedsheets, begging for more. I replaced my fingers with the vibrator, slowly moving it in and out of her pucker to her moans of approval. I gradually added a stretching, rotating motion to my ministrations and she began to meet my invasion with her own small, return thrusts.

"Bigger, Peter!" she gasped. "The purple one now, please. God, it's so good!"

I gently moved the rubbery phallus all around her backdoor, adding extra lube, slowly exerting forward pressure. Mom seemed to be totally lost in a world of forbidden sensations as I applied myself to the task and then it was inside her, a small yip announcing the invader's full entry into her darkest secret.

Her hand found mine, steadying it, showing me how slowly she wanted it to move, gradually increasing the speed and depth until it was moving freely within her. A small orgasm shook her, causing her eyes to open wide in surprise. After several minutes and another small orgasm, she rolled over onto her stomach and stuck her gorgeous derriere into the air.

"I'm ready, sweetheart. The big one now. Please be gentle."

"Always, Mom. Promise to tell me if it hurts too much, okay?"

Looking over her shoulder at me, she nodded once and then put her head down, waiting.

Picking up The Monster, as I now thought of it, I slowly rubbed it around her anus, applying pressure like before, but there was more resistance this time. I paused with concern as the head began to stretch past Mom's backdoor and she let out a gasp.

"Mom? You okay"

"Yes honey, keep on going, just be slow," she quavered, her voice muffled by a pillow she had buried her head in.

As I oh-so-carefully eased the huge dildo ahead, I could see beads of sweat on Mom's shoulders. I kept on adding more lube and then, with a palpable pop, the head passed into Mom's ass.

"Ahnnnhh!" she cried, raising her head. I halted immediately.

"Don't you dare stop, Peter," I heard her say through gritted teeth. "We're almost there. Just go slow."

Moving by fractions of inches and using copious amounts of lube, I gradually buried The Monster in Mom's ass. After almost five minutes of extremely careful maneuvering, it was all the way in, and what an amazing sight it was. Ever so slowly, by mere millimeters, I began to slowly move the huge invader.

It took three or four minutes of gentle manipulation and then I felt the first small counterthrust from Mom, then another. Then another. Then I heard the words I never thought would be possible.

"Harder, Peter. Stretch Mommy's asshole. Fuck me with that fucker."

Gradually, I began to lengthen the strokes, until I was moving nearly the full length in and out of Mom. In a low voice, she began grunting, "Yes, yes, yes," to each stroke. I was hard enough to tunnel through solid rock.

Then, Mom raised her head up from the pillow and looked at me, her eyes blazing.

"Fuck mommy's ass, darling. Fuck me now, baby."

Needing no further encouragement, I slathered my steel with lube and placed myself at my mother's most secret, forbidden place. Slowly I pushed forward, sliding in nearly effortlessly, the tightness and heat absolutely overwhelming.

"Oh God!" we cried out at the same time.

As I reached maximum depth, the sight of my pubes mashed up against Mom's silky globes was enough to drive me over the brink of insanity. If that wasn't enough, as I began to stroke in her, Mom started making noises.

Sounds that I never had heard ANY woman make before began emanating from my mother's sweet lips. Strange, animal ululations, grunts and gasps interspersed with the "Oh Gods," and "Fuck me baby." Soon I was stroking my full length in and out and Mom was meeting me with her own vigorous thrusts, her hips gyrating wantonly.

As my thighs collided with her sweet cheeks with each cycle, I was hypnotized by the fleshy shock-wave that rippled through her buttocks and into her back. The loud, lewd slap of flesh on flesh reverberated in my brain like the devil's snare drum and soon I found myself on the brink of a titanic release.

"Gonna cum, Mom," I grunted through clenched teeth.

"Yessss, baby, cum for Momma. Cum in my ass, baby boy!" she hissed.

Then I was there. The intensity was beyond description. I felt like I was on the verge of leaving my body, my entire soul spurting out of the head of my cock along with the molten cascade of my semen, filling my mother's bowels to overflowing with my incandescent essence.

I howled in forbidden, animal triumph, taking and claiming the one place my mother had saved for her son as my very own.

As I spurted, Mom's head jerked up like a puppet and her back arched into incredible tension. She thrust back at me with a desire that spoke to taking my entire body into herself. A banshee wail announced her own implosion of ecstasy and a torrent of fluid shot from her cunt, bathing my thighs and soaking the sheets beneath her.

She screamed, "Peter, Peter, PEEETERRRR!" over and over and then collapsed completely. As she fell away from me, I briefly saw the obscene, silver dollar gape of her ass, rimmed with my cream.

I collapsed beside her, too stunned to move, barely able to breathe. My brain sizzled like it was in a white-hot skillet, the glowing metal an unspeakable alloy of lust, consummation, desire and forbidden love. After I lost my mind and slowly reclaimed it, I turned to Mom's insensate form.

Her breathing was slow and regular, her face beaded with perspiration, but her brow smooth and relaxed. For a long time, I just watched her, hypnotized by the rise and fall of her chest, the flare of her nostrils and the small smile on her lips.

As my post orgasmic fog dispersed, she slowly stirred, opening her eyes. She blinked once, twice, appearing disoriented at first and then she focused on my face. Her face broke into smile, at once elated and slightly embarrassed.

"Wow," she croaked.

"Yeah, wow," I affirmed.

"Peter, that was the most incredible, sexy, nasty, beautiful..." Her vocabulary failed her and she snatched my head with both hands, delivering a blistering kiss that just about blew the top of my head off.

"I love you so much, son," she whispered.

"I love you too, wife-mom."

"Wife-mom. Hmmm, I like the sound of that, Peter."

"It's the truth. You're stuck with me now, kjare mor."

"I can live with that, son-lover."

"Good."

She stretched sinuously and her eyes opened wide in panic at the same time a bubbling fart escaped her well-used derriere. "Oh my God!" she cried, burying her face in her pillow, completely mortified. "What did you do to me, you nasty man?" she wailed, looking frantically for something to stuff between her legs.

I hopped off the bed and brought back a bath towel, answering her question as I handed it to her.

"What did I do to you? Well, let's see, Mom. I seem to remember something about toying your ass with some of the biggest dildos I've ever seen and then there was something else, let's see...Oh yes, I remember now. I fucked your ass and filled you with the biggest cum of my entire life. Yeah, I think that about covers it."

"Sarcasm does NOT suit you, Peter," Mom said acidly, hugging the towel to her crotch.

"Was it worth it all, in the end, Mom?" I asked, smirking at my clever play on words.

"You're incorrigible, you know that? Here I am, doing my best to rest battered and bruised body, after you so thoroughly abused my tender, virgin ass and all you can do is spout bad puns. Show your mother some respect, for God's sake."

"I'd rather show her how much I love her," I said, pulling her close.

"That's acceptable, too," she smiled.

"How about I draw you a nice, hot bath?" I asked.

"Thank you sweetheart, that would be heavenly."

I drew her water, added some bath oil and carried her, giggling, to the tub. Setting her on her feet, I handed her into the aromatic water and watched her slide in down to her chin, her hair spreading around her like a dark nimbus. She sighed contentedly and opened her eyes, favoring me with one of her patented dazzling smiles.

"Any other plans, Peter?"

"Nothing immediate Mom, but if you can spare the time, I've got a few ideas about how to spend the next forty or fifty years."

"I'll clear my calendar, darling."

And so she did.

Epilogue

My books have done well, including a couple that made women's TV show reading lists. My fourth and fifth novels had been made into movies - selling those rights on top of our share of my father's assets and insurance made us financially independent. We're not really wealthy by any measure, but between my royalties and the residual of Dad's estate, we have more than enough to travel at will and comfortably maintain our deliberately simple lifestyle.

About 6 years back, Sig came out of the coast guard. I sold him the Anna Katarina for one dollar, now renamed (by mutual agreement) the Magda Christine. He's taken over the duties as skipper of the chase boat for that long-running TV show and is doing well. He says he may try his own hand at crabbing eventually, but that remains to be seen. I do know he's got the family grit and determination to make it happen if he chooses to do so.

When he finally came back to Homer, we decided that come what may, we didn't want any more secrets. We told him the truth about us. It took him over two months to get over the shock and he wouldn't even speak to us for at least five or six weeks, but he eventually came around to understanding, after I explained how everything happened. The big, lazy sod is actually a hell of a guy, still loving us after all that. We're a family again, more so now than any time when Dad was still alive.

We've done a lot of traveling the past ten years. I've found that getting away is often the lubrication I need to break the bind of occasional writer's block. I don't really care too much where we go, as long as she's with me.

When I get that need and she asks where, I just say, "Wherever your heart desires." And when she asks where my heart's desire is, I just slip my arm around her waist and say, "Right here, right now."

We had maintained the old house in Homer for a few months, toying with the idea of remodeling it, but in the end, the weight of dark memories from my father were too heavy, too oppressive, even for the joy we had found in each other there, in that preceding Christmas. We did live for a while in a far suburb of Seattle, but in the end, we had to admit that we just weren't city folk. The high peaks, blue glaciers and limitless vistas of our real home constantly called to us.

Sig had his own family by then and also and wanted easier access to education and amenities for his wife and two boys, so they set up quarters in Anchorage. My kjaere mor continues in her passion for all things Norse, having gone back to school for a masters degree in Scandinavian history. She has begun writing and illustrating on her own now, mostly children books rooted in the myths and legends she loves so well. Reviews have been good, her latest effort becoming a Caldecott Award finalist.

Eventually, we found our little slice of paradise off the Lynn Canal, down in Haines, building our home near the banks of the Chilkat River. Our house is a fairly small, simple affair, but its warm, beating heart remains the kitchen, where Mom and I still spend much of our time together. She cooks and I tell her of the research I'm doing for my various writing projects, and she continues to enlighten me about the history of our people and the roots of the legends of Asgard and Midgard.

Our day-to-day life is simple and uncomplicated, just the way we like it, raising vegetables in our garden during the long days of the northern high summer and smoking salmon that we catch in the river. The constantly changing, silvery mare's nest of the Chilkat River delta and the awesome backdrop of the Takshanuk Mountains provide us with an unrivaled back yard. I must confess to also preferring grizzlies, eagles and moose as neighbors over Pacific Northwest hipsters.

My books are coming slower now than before, but better, I think. I've also started to compose poetry. It's much harder than I imagined, but I have so much to write about, that I think it will keep me going for years.

Other than the gourmet kitchen we designed and built together, the only real luxury in our lives right now is the solarium with a sauna and hot tub, which I added to the back of our bedroom a couple years ago. It's really not terribly practical and we have to use an oversized, separate wood stove to keep it usable in winter, but it's worth the trouble.

That room is our favorite place, with our best memories. It's where Mom and I still make love every Christmas, under the shimmering curtain of the Aurora Borealis, the snow falling all around us as our bodies are bathed in the reflected glow of the armor of the Valkyries.

The End