The Island of I Ch. 02

We left the detritus of our picnic behind and slowly walked further down the beach, Mother slipping her arm around my waist as we walked slowly through the surf. We didn't get far before Mother stumbled and I caught her before she fell, both of us gasping as my hands found large handfuls of her breasts as I pulled her back up. Mother sighed softly as I let my fingers slide free and then she leaned into me, her breasts pillowing against my chest.

She looked up at me with a mixture of confusion and what I saw as desire, smiling as she said, "Maybe I had a little too much wine."

"That's okay, Mother." I gestured back at the beach further away from the surf. "We can sit awhile, watch the Moon over the water."

Mother nodded and with her arms around my waist, allowed me to walk us away from the water's edge. At a safe distance, I helped Mother to sink to her knees, her looking up at me with large eyes, reminding me more than a little of Antonia and Hector last night. In the brilliant illumination of the Moon, I had little doubt that my erection stood out plainly against my pants. I quickly unbuttoned my shirt and laid it down for Mother to sit on, going to my knees and helping her slowly turn around and then sit between my outstretched legs as she had done last night.

Mother sighed happily as she wiggled herself into a comfortable position, her modestly covered bottom rubbing wonderfully against my crotch. As she had done the night before, Mother drew my arms around her upper chest and leaned back into me. As she rested her head on my shoulder, she said softly, "I like this, son."

She picked up my right hand and kissed my palm and then returned it to a place just above the swell of her left breast. With a hoarse whisper, I replied, "I like this too, Mother." I punctuated my statement by planting a gentle kiss on her bare shoulder.

After a long and comfortable silence watching the Moon rise up, its reflection lengthening out from the horizon to the shore, Mother said with a bit of wistfulness. "I'd forgotten how much I loved this."

"You used to do this with Father?" I replied softly.

Mother hesitated for a moment and said, "He wasn't always this way...when we met back in college, he had his playful, romantic side." She sighed again. "We'd walk on the beaches and watch the moon, sometimes staying out all night, making love as the sun rose up..." Her voice faded out and she was silent for some minutes before finally saying softly, "I'm sorry, John. I didn't mean to say such things and embarrass you. Not something I should be telling my son."

I leaned in and brushed my lips on the outer shell of her ear and whispered back. "I'm not embarrassed, Mother. It makes me happy to know that once you were so very happy." I paused, licking my dry lips before adding, "I would love to see you that happy again." I felt my heart beat as I wondered if she would understand what I truly meant.

Mother sighed and shook her head and said, "You're a good son to say so, but I fear your father is past such things now...he considers them...immature and childish."

"Father is a fool," I responded, my voice harsher than I wanted it to sound. "A husband should consider his wife to be his most important priority -- not a pile of smelly, old books."

Mother laughed in response and I am sure I detected both amusement and bitterness in her voice. "My son, some day you will make a lucky woman a wonderful husband." She then again took hold of my right hand and gave me a gentle kiss on my palm. When she put my hand back down again, this time it rested plainly on the upper swell of her breast, partly covered by her dress and partly exposed, allowing me to feel the pillow like softness of her breasts. I wondered if I should discreetly withdraw my hand, but Mother solved that question by resting her hand atop mine.

A long period of silence was interrupted when Mother said in an odd voice. "Do you think Antonia is attractive?"

I opened my mouth, but could not think of a reply. I laughed uncomfortably and finally muttered, "Antonia is...Antonia. She certainly has certain...attributes."

Mother snorted and said, "She has big breasts, you mean?"

"They certainly um...stand out," I replied, wincing at the lameness of my answer.

"I saw you glancing at her today," Mother said frostily.

"Um, it was rather hard not to, Mother. I am a man after all." I hesitated, but then went ahead and blurted out, "And I'm sure Hector was looking at you just as much as I looked at Antonia. It made me very jealous."

Mother barked out a laugh, her hand on mine rising to cover her mouth. "Good Lord...do you really think so? No, don't answer that. Do you think Antonia is beautiful, son?"

I chose my words carefully and replied, "I think Antonia is an attractive woman, yes, but she is not beautiful...not like you are, Mother."

Mother chuckled lowly and I knew she was pleased. "Do you...do you really think I'm beautiful, John?"

"Oh yes, Mother. You are the most beautiful woman I know of." I took a chance and again kissed her softly on the shoulder before adding, "Father is so lucky...damn the fool for not seeing that."

I expected a mild to harsh rebuke for condemning Father so, but for once, Mother did not make apologies for her husband, but instead whispered in a teary voice, "Thank you, John. I...I think I needed to hear that." There was a pause and she added almost too soft to hear, "It's been too long since I heard such compliments."

I kissed her again on the shoulder and then bravely on the nape of her neck, making her shudder slightly. "Then I will remind you of how beautiful you are on a daily basis from now on...hourly or more if you prefer."

Mother sighed and wiggled slightly against me again, searching for a more comfortable position or perhaps seeking to better ascertain the physical response I was having in her being in my embrace. "You are a truly wonderful son," she said and again lifted my hand up. Mother planted a soft kiss on each of my fingertips before kissing my palm again. My heart then gave a lurch as Mother took my hand and planted it firmly over her breast, my thumb and forefinger resting on the naked swell of her breast while the rest of my hand rested on the fully rounded globe of flesh underneath her dress, my palm pressing now against her very hard nipple. Mother then compounded the action by placing her hand atop mine to keep it in place.

Silence reined again, punctuated only briefly by Mother's infrequent sighs and my needful gasps of breath. My cock seemed to throb in rhythm with her heart which I could feel pounding in her chest. The birds and other nightlife seemed to fade away and we were alone, accompanied only by the gentle wash of the surf for music. I could feel the sweat running down my back, not triggered by the humid air, but by nervousness as I wandered what to do next. I cursed my awkwardness, thinking that Mike Hammer would know what to do...or even Hector.

I wondered if Mother truly knew what she was doing and even if she did, where was the limit to my possible actions here. I continued to periodically kiss Mother's soft shoulders and the nape of her neck and her upper back, all which made her sigh happily until finally I worked up the courage as I was kissing her neck to slowly squeeze my fingers around her breast and very slowly, work my hand in a circle, gently massaging her large, firm breast.

As my palm slowly scraped over her cotton covered nipple, I could feel it swell even larger and Mother let out a very low, but happy purr. Her hand atop mine did nothing to stop me from caressing her breast and even seemed to tighten a little around my hand to keep it from suddenly flying off.

Suddenly, I was aware that Mother was beginning to perspire as well, her legs slowly moving and shifting in the sand -- her knees rising up and allowing the hem of her dress to slide back towards her crotch before digging her heels into the sand and straightening her legs to plow trowels in the sandy soil. I kissed her neck and then as a large rivulet of sweat slowly slid down her neck, I reached out and tongued it off her fair skin.

I could feel Mother's heart beating more strongly, paced by her pulse as blood pumped into her nipple and as I worked my hand on her breast. As I slowly and patiently planted a series of soft kisses on her neck and worked my way towards her shoulder, I was able to look over her shoulder and down, marveling that I could actually see my hand moving carefully in a circular fashion over her breast and then as she drew her knees back, the soft white of her inner thighs where the hem of her dress fell back, her free hand rubbing the inside of her leg, drawing closer to her crotch where her panties were now revealed and I could see in that almost magical moonlight that in the middle of her gusset was a growing dark spot! Mother's vagina was wet...she was aroused -- no, very aroused!

In my excitement, my hand covering Mother's breast clenched almost involuntarily, fingers digging into her soft flesh, separated only by the thin cotton of her dress. Mother let out a gasp, surprise, pleasure and shock in her voice and her body jerked and she let out a loud moan and sat up suddenly, breaking our embrace. With awkward swiftness, Mother scrambled to her feet, hands coming to her face, mouth open in an expression of amazement and dismay.

I came up to my knees, saying hoarsely, "Mother, are you alright?"

Mother looked down at me, her mouth moving for several seconds, but with nothing coming out. She spun and faced the moonlit ocean, wrapping her arms around herself as if suddenly chilled. I came to my feet and went to her, carefully placing my hands on her shoulders. "Mother, is something wrong?" My heart was pounding with fear as I wondered if I had done something terribly wrong.

Long, agonizing seconds passed before Mother shook her head and turned and smiled wanly up at me and said, "Nothing's wrong. It's...just getting late. We should get back home."

I knew I had to say something. My heart was breaking as I realized that the moment...so special and so romantic, was now over -- lost and irretrievable. "Mother...I..."

Mother raised her hand -- the same one that had just held my hand to her breast and touched two fingers to my lips. "I'm fine, son. Nothing is...wrong, but we need to get back. It's getting late."

I nodded, feeling sadness and regret that was only ameliorated by the fact that as we walked, Mother again slipped an arm around my waist and allowed me to wrap my arm around her shoulder. We took our time, silently strolling back along the edge of the surf, pausing only to pick up our picnic basket. Not a word passed between us along the way, Mother only speaking to me after I had walked her up the stairs to the door of hers and Father's bedroom.

We stared at each other for several seconds, an aura of awkwardness and embarrassment thick between us that was finally breached when Mother said softly, "I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed our walk, son."

I shook my head and said, "Not nearly as much as I did, Mother. I only..."

Again, Mother put her fingers to my lips to silence me as she slowly shook her head and said, "I know." She smiled at me and said in such a tender voice. "I love you so much, John." Then before I could reply, Mother leaned into me, her breasts flattening and dragging against my chest as she rose up and kissed me on the lips, chaste and yet passionate, her closed lips pressing urgently against mine for seconds that were far longer than what one would consider appropriate between a mother and son. I was entranced, wanting the kiss to never end and by the time I realized it had, Mother entered her bedroom and closed the door behind her, leaving me standing there, lost and forlorn like an abandoned puppy.

I reached out and touched the door with my fingers and whispered, "I love you too, Mother -- more than anything." I retreated to my room and as the night before, considered masturbating, but found myself too restless to stay in my room even though the evening grew late. I ventured to the kitchen, looking for a snack that would sate the hunger gnawing at my belly, but found nothing, knowing full well that it was not food I desired. I stepped out onto the back porch, my eyes seeking out in the moonlit night, the path that led into the woods... the path I had taken that had led to my discovery of Antonia's and Hector's incestuous relationship.

Part of me was sorely tempted to journey out there again in the hopes of spying on them once more, but I recalled that Hector's mother had intimated that they were staying in for the night. I retreated back into the kitchen and for long minutes stared down the hallway that led to the servant quarters, my imagination running wild, wondering if at this very moment, Antonia and her son were locked in carnal congress...making love, nay, fucking like lust filled animals.

Part of me wanted to try and slip into their private quarters and spy on them, but I was not ready to yield to such base and venal desires. At last, I pulled my attention from them and slowly made my way back up the stairs. Standing in the hallway of our quarters, I looked to the closed door of Father's office, wondering what ancient lore he might be lost in. I glanced over at my parents' bedroom and felt my penis throb as I imagined Mother in some erotic lingerie or stark naked, lying like a goddess upon her bed. My erection which had never fully waned began to throb and grow again and I began walking down the hall when I came to a halt between two aged portraits -- severe paintings of a former master of the house and his spinster daughter.

I had already discovered that between them was an access portal to an old passageway between the upper floor and the servant's quarters, no doubt place there so servants could move unseen by their so-called betters as they went back and forth on their many errands. I'm not sure how long I stood there debating my next action and I don't remember retrieving a small flashlight from my room, but suddenly I found myself inside the secret corridor, cautiously and quietly descending a narrow, spiral staircase of cast iron.

Below, it opened up into another narrow corridor and it suddenly struck me how similar it resembled the secret place from which I had spied on Mother in my dreams last night. Here and there light shone through slight cracks in the wall. I wasn't sure of my direction, but turned right on instinct and moved carefully along, extinguishing my light. I paused in front of a section of wall that had to my surprise a slide mechanism similar to the one in my dream. I raised my hand to quietly work it, somehow knowing what I would see.

I peered through the peephole and was shocked to see Antonia staring back at me. I stifled a gasp and nearly slammed into the dusty, cobwebby wall behind me before I recovered and summoning all my nerve peered again. Again, I was looking directly into Antonia's face, but quickly realized that she did not see me -- indeed, I doubted she could see at all, so glazed with lust and pleasure were her eyes.

As I took in all there was to see, everything became clear. Antonia was on a large brass bed on her hands and knees facing the wall from which I was peeking. She was naked -- her massively pendulous breasts swinging wildly about as Hector pumped his hard penis into her from behind. A multitude of lit candles were scattered about the room, illuminating it to create an atmosphere akin to that of a church or temple.

In the glow of that near holy light, I could see her olive skinned body was covered in a thick sheen of sweat and I wondered how long Hector and his mother had been carnally engaged. Gradually, I became aware of Antonia making a low moaning sound -- a continuous noise of pure, unrelenting pleasure of the lewdest kind. Simultaneously, I became aware of the scent of their sex...of her arousal and his seed..."Call it the smell of FUCKING," moaned my mother's voice inside my head.

I began to perceive other sounds...Hector's harsh gasps for breath as he labored to pleasure his mother, his face twisted in a rictus of incestuous delight. And then there was the sound of their bodies slapping together, sharp and constant, accompanied by the noise of wetness and in my mind's eye, I could see his cock and her pussy, joined, his length and girth filling her wet and hungry womb, becoming one, producing such ecstasy that I could only dream of.

My hand found my own erect penis and began to furiously stroke, aching for the release that I had denied or been denied all evening long. I was filled with jealousy of Antonia and Hector, envious of what they shared and what I realized now I wanted -- no, needed to have with my own mother.

As I masturbated, I saw myself alongside them, kneeling next to Hector with Mother on all fours in front of me, her lovely buttocks raised in sweet offering to me, me thrusting my erection deep into her...her...her pussy, relishing each savage stroke inside her as her wet, steaming hot flesh wrapped itself around my...my...my hard cock! I could clearly see Mother looking over her shoulder at me, her face expressing more happiness and pleasure than I had ever imagined...eyes glowing with love for her son and what he was doing for her.

As I felt my orgasm racing closer, I could see Mother and Antonia looking at each other, giving each other a smile of understanding that only mother's who were the lovers of their sons, could comprehend. Each snaked a hand towards the other as their moans rose in intensity, fingers intertwining as incestuous ecstasy consumed them. Their heads moved closer together, lips opening as if anticipating a kiss as their sons fucked them harder and harder.

"MATRE TIAMBO UN UMANO UN ESTASIUM VICTRE DIABLAS!" My incestuous fantasy was broken as Antonia began to scream seemingly nonsense words in the grip of her orgasm -- her eyes now wide and unseeing in pure ecstasy. Her orgasm seemed to manifest in waves of pure energy that radiated outward, washing over me, allowing me somehow to tap into their lusty pleasure.

As she chanted the strange words over and over, my own pleasure became more than I could bear and with a mostly strangled sob, I began to climax, ejaculating massive amounts of semen into my hand and against the wall, almost collapsing to my knees from the intensity of my pleasure even as Hector growled loudly as with one last brutal thrust, he buried his cock inside his mother's womb and began to fill her with his seed.

The sensation of filling her son's hot semen inside her pussy sent Antonia over the edge and her chanting disintegrated into cries and sobs of pure carnal ecstasy as she threw her head back and through sneering lips howled as she came with animalistic intensity. My own climax brought me to tears as my desires momentarily overwhelmed me while I struggled to understand the incestuous desires that had so recently come to dominate my world.

I wiped my hand clean of my seed and then wiped tears from my momentarily blinded eyes. When I had composed myself, I again peered through the peephole and felt my momentarily sated penis twitch as I saw a scene of pure carnal lust. Antonia had somehow managed to turn around and crawl up to her son's sprawled body, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath. Her full lips were wrapped around Hector's still semi-erect cock, her tongue gathering up and cleaning his penis of their mingled leavings.

Antonia's body still quivered in the aftershock of her no doubt numerous orgasms and her legs were sprawled apart, affording me a perfect view of her pussy, labia swollen and widespread with copious amounts of semen frosting her pink, wet flesh and oozing from her battered pussy. I could see her face from profile, hair and skin still gleaming with perspiration and even from my limited view, I could see her glancing lovingly up at her son's face and as I had the night before, suddenly and keenly felt like an intruder upon their intimacy.