The Forbidden Shore

There simply isn't a vocabulary for it. There are no adjectives, no superlatives, no paeans, no poems, not even whole novels that could encompass the feelings that come along with returning to the place of your birth as a full man.

My world changed irrevocably, one moment as expansive as the sky and then contracted and ultimately distilled to just us. Armageddon could have been occurring just beyond the edge of our bed and I would have been oblivious.

Then I began to move. With the first stroke, Mom's legs came up and wrapped around the back of my thighs. With the second stroke, her arms tightened around me with more strength than I thought she possessed. With the third stroke, her lips parted and an inarticulate groan escaped. With the fourth stroke, her fingers hooked into my skin. With the fifth stroke, she met me with her own, vigorous counterthrust, her legs coming up to wrap around my hips.

As we settled into the rhythm of our incestuous waltz, Mom began a litany of sighs and exhortations, in time with my thrusts.

"Oh God, Peter, Oh God! Yes! Oh God!"

Much, much sooner than I wanted, our lover's canter morphed into a full-fledged gallop and I could see the end looming. It was at once something I wanted more than my next breath and at the same time, wanted to hold at arms length, prolonging our moment together forever.

Mom was now almost chanting beneath me, alternating "Oh God!" with "Oh, Peter!" as our thighs slapped together loudly and wetly. By now my own control was reduced to tatters and I slammed and thrust into Mom with all my strength, making her grunt beneath me.

"Knull meg, knull meg! Fuck me, Peter, fuck me!" she began repeating in time to my thrusts, over and over.

Abruptly, her eyes opened wide and she began shrieking at the top of her lungs, "Peter! Peter! Oh God, Peter- I'm cumming, I'm cumming! Peeeeeeter!"

Then I felt her clamp around me and her eyes rolled back into her head. At that moment, I was beyond all control and I began spraying myself into my Mom, my lover.

I came with a force like I had never experienced before in my entire life. My cum seemed to burst from me like a column of water hitting a hydroelectric turbine and it felt as though I had gallons to give her. My detonation was so intense that it seemed as though I should be smelling burned hair and gunsmoke.

Then I was suddenly limp as a flatworm, totally spent, nerveless and boneless. Lifting a pencil would have been beyond my strength, as I collapsed onto Mom.

I came to my senses at some point, the universe reassembling itself into something resembling actual existence. For a while, time wasn't measurable, but then reality asserted itself in the form of Mom kissing me tenderly and passionately, her breath labored.

"That was wonderful, Peter, but if you don't get off me soon, I'm going to suffocate," she chided me in a strained voice.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry, Mom!" I apologized, hastening to move to her side.

Mom immediately snuggled beneath my arm, her head resting on my chest.

"Your heart is beating so fast, darling, so strong..." she whispered.

Still stunned by the intensity of our lovemaking, it took a few moments for me to engage my brain and make a response. Even then, as lucidity returned to me, I had great difficulty expressing myself.

"Mom," I began, my voice no better than a croak, "That was...that was...just...amazing," I concluded lamely.

Sighing dreamily in assent, Mom said, "It was the best, Peter. The best ever."

"I knew I wanted to be with you, Peter, but I had no idea, darling, no idea at all that it could be so good with my own son," she said, her voice full of wonder.

"How do you feel?" I asked, suddenly taken with the irrational fear that we wouldn't be together again.

"Well loved and VERY well fucked," Mom said with a warm smile.

"And you're okay with this?" I asked uncertainly, "With...us?"

"Jesus, Peter, what do you think?" she asked with a note of affectionate exasperation. "I just committed one of the biggest no-no's in western civilization. I've sucked my son off and let him eat my pussy. I just fucked him, and cheated on a psychopathic husband for God's sake. Don't be an idiot."

I smiled a little uncertainly at her sarcastic rebuke and then Mom seemed to see something more in my question.

"What's on your mind Peter? What's worrying you?"

Finally giving voice to my insecurities and uncertainties, I blurted it out in a tumbled rush, "It can't be anyone else now, Mom. Being with anybody else...it wouldn't be the same. It couldn't possibly be as good as what we just did, and it wouldn't be, well, it wouldn't be... you."

"I want to be with you always, Mom," I said softly. "Nobody else. Just you and me."

Mom smiled gently and touched my cheek, a tear running down her own. "You're my sweet boy, Peter. You're also my sweet man now. Do you really think this was just a horny roll in the hay for me?"

"I've been falling in love with you for quite a while now, just like you have with me. We wouldn't be where we are now if I didn't feel...that way about you too," she said, taking my hand in hers.

"Good!" I said with great relief. Some uncertainty crept back into my voice when I asked, "What's next?"

"First we get some rest and then you need to put that wonderful polse back inside your momma. It's been so long," she sighed, grinning wickedly at the same time. "It's been so long since your Mom has been properly fucked. You need to do right by her and show her how much you love her."

Doubts and fears now behind me, I grinned back, saying, "I'm a good son. I always do what Mom asks me. Because I love her."

Mom heaved a happy sigh and snuggled in close and I put my arms around her. She was asleep in moments, a small smile on her lips. Soon enough, the sandman threw the big switch in my head and there was warm, comforting blackness. If I dreamed, I don't recall what.

Chapter 9

Somehow, sometime, I made the transition from dreamless sleep to waking dream, as I awoke the exquisite sensation of moist lips gliding over the head of my penis. It was as near to pitch black as possible outside, the stars obscured by heavy scudding clouds and the air disturbed by a steady wind that whistled shrilly as it knifed through the trees surrounding the house and swirled in the eaves. Had I been alone in bed, the sound alone would have been enough to chill me to the bone, but I was warm, oh so warm as my mother wrapped her mouth around my cock, licking and sucking with abandon.

For someone who seemed to have been largely celibate for an unconscionably long time, Mom's ministrations were artful and incredibly arousing. As if reading my thoughts, Mom paused in her tasks, lifting her head to regard me affectionately. She then spoke for the first time, her eyes bright.

"Hello, love. Is Mommy's boy all awake now?" she asked throatily. "I hope you like having your cock sucked. I've been missing this for so long and yours is just so...perfect. I just can't resist it," she whispered, blushing endearingly.

All too quickly, she had me bucking my hips involuntarily and she ended up spitting me out, choking slightly.

"Whoa, easy there, cowboy!" she coughed. "I don't want you going off prematurely."

"Sorry, Mom," I apologized sheepishly. "You're just too good at that."

"Thanks, honey. That's a real compliment. Now that I have your attention," she giggled, "It's time to put that nice stor kuk of yours to good use."

With that, Mom swung her legs over me, grasping my cock at the same time. She settled onto my lap and set herself on my hardness, taking me inside in one long, continuous, exquisite impalement.

With a satisfied groan, she settled her weight on me fully, eyes twinkling.

"You got to pound your momma earlier, Peter. Now it's time for me to return the favor," she said gleefully, an impish gleam in her eyes.

As she began her ride, she rose languorously, tightening her muscles as she ascended, pausing at the apex of her motion to just hold the head of my cock inside her. She then lowered herself again with agonizing slowness, clearly savoring every inch of my penetration.

The sensations were a beautiful torment to me. "All yours," I moaned. "I'm all yours, Mom. Fuck me."

"That's right, Peter. I'm going to fuck you now. You just lay back and let

Mom do all the work, beautiful boy. Let Mom fuck her sweet boy."

When you're out in the real world, chasing girls (and hopefully catching a few), you get a sense sometimes for what a particular lady might be like in bed. Some women have an in-your-face "x" factor, something about their bearing, speech or attitude that immediately speaks to a voracious appetite for sex. You just know somehow that they will be dynamite in the sack.

I've had a few of those kinds of girls in my bed and it can be incredible. But that's not what I like best. What I like is finding the gal that surprises the heck out of you when she finally lets her hair down, the quiet one that lets all restraint and inhibition fly out the window of propriety once they get naked with you.

It struck me as I watched Mom ride me, completely abandoning herself to our lovemaking, that my beloved mother had that latter quality in spades. I think some of it was our already close mother-son relationship and a healthy dash of the forbidden, but I could just tell by watching her that Mom loved to fuck. Her wanton gyrations on my cock, her little gasps and yips of pleasure and most of all, the lustful stare she fixed on me as she rode told me in no uncertain terms that I was with a very sensual woman who took no prisoners in bed.

It felt like I had won all of the lotteries in the world at one time.

These thoughts flashed through my mind in a matter of seconds and then I was back in the moment, captivated by the bouncing of her breasts and the sheen of her juices on my cock, as she rose and fell on me.

I couldn't stop touching her everywhere. I palmed her still pert and firm breasts and she smiled and sighed. When I flicked her erect, pebble hard nipples, she crooned with pleasure. When I slid my hands to her flanks, sliding them down to her silky ass, she moaned. When I gripped her cheeks tightly and pulled them apart, she growled and ground down on me so hard, I thought for a moment I'd snap off inside her.

Then, greatly daring, I did something I had never done before with any woman. It wasn't anything that I had consciously thought about in the past, but it seemed somehow right with Mom, to be able to touch her everywhere.

Sliding my right hand over the smooth globe of her left buttock, I scraped my fingertip across her little brown asterisk.

The effect was immediate. Mom's eyes opened wide and she groaned, "Oh my God. OhmigodPeterwhat'reyoudoingtome?"

Taking that as an invitation to further exploration of her most secret place, I wormed my index finger into her rubbery tightness.

"Peter!" she cried. "Oh God honey! Peter! Oh, FUCK, yeah! Yes! Yes, baby! Do it! Dooo it! Dooo meeeee!"

As I began pistoning her back channel, she suddenly crushed herself down onto my cock, grinding her pubis against me in a furious attempt to stimulate her clit. I felt her telltale tightening around my shaft and my invading finger and she began shrieking out her climax.

"Ahh! Ahhh, Peter! Yes! Yes! Oh God, my ass, yes! Yesss, babeeee!"

Then she was flooding me with her juices and I couldn't hold out any longer. I pulsed inside her once, twice, three, four times, the pleasure so intense that it was almost cramp-like in its intensity.

Mom then collapsed on me, breathing like a spent triathlete, her face and chest flushed deep crimson. I simply held her to me as her breathing gradually slowed and I slowly slipped out of her clasping cunt, our combined releases completely saturating my groin.

It felt heavenly.

We lay just like that, close and silent for maybe ten minutes before Mom finally stirred, whispering in my ear.

"You are a very nasty lille dritt, Peter, touching your mother that way. A very dirty boy, you are."

"I had no idea you liked having something up your ass, dear mother," I teased back, lightly caressing her pucker again with my fingertip.

"You bring out the worst in me, you perverted young man."

Daring hugely once again, I held my breath and asked, "Would you like me to fuck you there some time?"

I could almost feel Mom blush as she burrowed her head in my shoulder, embarrassed by my extremely intimate question.

Almost inaudibly, she whispered in my ear, "Yes. Dear God, I must be mad, but I think...yes."

"You tell me when, Mom. I'd love to do that with you, but only if you're really sure."

"I think I really do, Peter, but I'm scared. You're so damn big, I'm afraid you'll split me in two, but I still think...God, I KNOW I'm mad to want this, but it seems somehow right to be with you, uhm, that way," she said with a blush.

In a voice that was barely detectable, she confessed, "I've never done that, you know."

I was dumbfounded. Mom was so uninhibited in bed with me and she so clearly enjoyed my frisky finger, that I assumed she was, well, experienced that way. With me, she seemed so genuinely adventurous that it never occurred to me that she was, in fact, still a virgin in one respect.

It was then that the enormity of my suggestion, what I was asking of her, hit home. I hugged her close.

"No worries, Mom," I said gently. "We'll talk about it again some other time. You can tell me when you're ready. I won't do ANYTHING that you don't truly want."

"You're my queen, Mom," I added softly. "I'll only ever do what pleases you and makes you feel good."

"And if I completely lose my mind and decide I want that monster up my rasshol?" she whispered in my ear.

"I'll be very, very gentle, but you don't need to decide a single thing right now, pretty lady. We'll put it on the "backside burner" for now."

"You are a very nasty son and your puns are horrible. But I still love you anyway."

"And I love you too, Mom," I replied, rubbing my finger across her pucker one more time. "Every square inch."

"Brat," she murmured again, her eyes drooping with fatigue.

"Time for your beauty rest, Mom," I whispered, kissing her forehead. I pulled her to my side and put her under my arm again. She curled up with a contented sigh and was fast asleep in moments. I followed her quickly into dreamland.

Christmas day announced itself with a howling gale and driving snow, the creaking of the house waking me with a start. For a moment, I couldn't figure out where I was, my disorientation total. In a flash, all of the memories came flooding back and I sat up with a gasp, finally recognizing where I was. The light in Mom's bedroom was strangely attenuated and softened. As I looked around, I could see that an enormous snow drift had extended halfway over the window next to the headboard. Knowing the window placement, it seemed that the drift was probably at least eight or nine feet high.

It made me feel as though our house was completely entombed as I watched tendrils of blown snow streaming from the tip of the drift that was slowly building itself. It looked like a Himalayan peak in miniature, summit thrust into the jet stream.

Shivering slightly, I settled back into the bed, the enormity of the previous evening's events finally sinking in. Mom was already awake, lying on her side with her head propped on her hand. Her hair was a mare's nest, tousled by our night of passion, but she was smiling serenely as she looked me over.

"Good morning, lover," she whispered.

"Morning, Mom," I whispered back. "Merry Christmas."

Mom's smile broadened. Her eyes glistening, she reached out to touch my cheek. "I've been waiting for you to wake up," she said, still whispering.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Like I've died and gone to heaven," I answered.

"Me too, darling."

"Mom, why are we still whispering?" I asked, also murmuring quietly.

"Because we're safe in our little refuge, with a storm all around us," she replied in hushed tones. "Because now we have a secret, the biggest of secrets. Something only for us, something that the world can never know about."

"Yes," I agreed. "Something only for us."

"What do we do now, Peter?" she asked, whispering again. "What about your fath..."

"No," I answered quickly, cutting her off. "No talking about that, Mom. Not now, especially not today. Today is for us, our first real Christmas."

"You're right, yes, my love," she said contritely. "I'm sorry. Lystig Jul, elskling sonn. "

I reached out to pull her to me. "Merry Christmas to you too, pen jente. Don't be sorry, Mom. We'll talk later."

I slid my hand along her flank, over the curve of her hip to cup her ass, pulling her close, so my waking hardon poked her belly. She giggled.

"Oh my. Did Santa leave some morgenbrod for me?" she husked.

"Want your stocking stuffed, pretty lady?" I leered wickedly.

Breaking my embrace, Mom pulled back and threw off the duvet, standing with a slight stagger. "Give me a moment, my randy boy. If I don't get up right this minute, I'm going to pee the bed."

"Can't have that," I agreed. "Unless you have some secret proclivities you haven't shared with me?"

Sticking out her tongue, she blew a raspberry at me. "Brat. Nasty, perverted lille drit."

Turning away, she walked to the en suite, plopping onto the toilet in plain view, leaving the door open. A moment later, I could hear the hissing, almost musical tinkle as she let go, her face visibly relaxing as she relieved herself. "Ahhh, that's much better," she sighed.

My shock at her casual actions must have shown, because when she opened her eyes to look at me, she laughed.

"What's the matter, son? Too intimate? Surely you're not embarrassed? After all, you're the one who put his finger up my ass last night."

Well and truly hoist on my own petard, I had to admit defeat and laughed myself. "I know, Mom. No, I'm not embarrassed. I guess I actually kind of like it, sharing everything. It's weird, I guess, but it somehow makes me feel closer to you."

"Brat. Little pervert. Naughty boy."

"Hey, you're the one who left the bathroom door open, Ms. Watersports," I said, getting up and moving towards her.

Walking into the bathroom and standing directly in front of the toilet, I grabbed my cock and pointed it at her, waving it menacingly. "My turn. Finish your business and clear out, woman," I growled brusquely. "Get out of my way or get wet."

"Brute!" she squawked, scrambling to wipe herself, stand and flush.

Mimicking her earlier words, I said, "Ahh, that's much, much better," as I let go.

Mom swatted my ass as she squeezed by me, saying, "Men are all such barbarians." While I finished, she brushed her teeth quickly and went back to the bed, hips rolling.

"Don't keep me waiting, young man," she called over her shoulder. "Momma needs her good son again."

As quickly as I could, I brushed my teeth as well and hurried back to bed. Mom was sprawled casually on her back, idly running a finger up and down her slit. Her inner petals were already blooming and I could see the sheen of her excitement on her finger and labia.

"About time," she husked, eyes hooded. "Get your cute ass over here and do what needs doing."

Laying down beside her, I ran my hand along her hip and bent to take one of her nipples in my mouth. As I licked the hardening nubbin, she gasped, saying, "Stop messing around and put it in, darling. Momma needs to be fucked!"

Never one to contradict my mother, I moved quickly between her outstretched legs. As I lowered to her, she reached out and grasped me firmly, guiding me to her opening. I sank into her very wet heat in one long stroke, her arms looping tightly around my shoulders as I bottomed out. Letting out an ecstatic groan, she crooned, "God, yes, Peter. So good. Ohhh, so damn good."