The Past is Present

For a long time he gazed at her sex organ, gently touching it with his finger. He seemed to be fascinated by her and he was so long in his touching and looking she began to feel embarrassed.

She had never thought the female organ to be particularly attractive, and had in fact been surprised when he had kissed it for the first time. She was even more surprised when, as he lifted the little hood of flesh to reveal her clitoris he murmured, "So beautiful."

With those words she felt something warm and soft enter her vaginal tunnel. She had been lying back letting Peter do what he wished to her, but now she glanced down and was stunned to see that it was Peter's tongue that was penetrating her.

It came to her that there was surely few things more loving than this that a man could do to a woman, and as Peter transferred his thrusting tongue to her clitoris she felt it happening again.

Once more she feared being stretched on the agonising rack of orgasmic torment, but this time she made no plea for mercy. Instead she welcomed the torture she was about to experience, for it was the torture of love.

She put her hands behind his head and held him close as his tongue moved faster, and then with a cry of abandonment she gave herself up to the delicious anguish that flooded over and through her.

When she was past her climax Peter suddenly came over her and penetrated. While she experienced the tremors of her fading orgasm Peter pressed into her and released himself. This time she was much more aware of his ejaculations and worked with him in rhythmic movements. As he finished he gave a gasping sigh and relaxed. This time it was Sally who looked at him and stroked his hair, murmuring words of love.

Within three days a new double bed arrived early in the morning before the staff arrived. Peter had come to stay, but Sally did not want the staff to know of their relationship, at least for the time being. For all that Peter had freed her from her long years of sexual abstinence and she had rejoiced in this, she still felt that somehow people would think less of her if they knew, especially as Peter was so much younger than her.

Fortunately Peter was off to lectures before the day staff arrived and in order to account for his presence in the late afternoon Sally had extended the evenings he worked to a full week.

This made the staff resent him even more since it was very clear that his services were not needed on the slower nights in the early part of the week. Suspicions were aroused and the sagacious lady commented, "There's something going on there, mark my words." Her hearers nodded.

As far as their sex life was concerned it was as if a great dammed up bank of sex drive had been released in Sally. Mostly it was she who approached Peter for sex.

They engaged in oral and anal sex, and often Peter would sit astride her, folding her breasts over his hard shaft as he worked it between them, but he seemed to have almost a fetish about ejaculating into her vagina. He would wait until he was about to come and than transfer his penis to her vagina.

They had done nothing about contraception and from time to time Sally would ask, "What if I get pregnant?" and he would reply, "That would be wonderful."

Feeling that she was safe and Peter would not desert her if she did get pregnant, she would respond, "It would be beautiful to get pregnant with you, darling."

Happy in her sex life Sally became more high spirited in the rest of her life, and this too was noted by the staff. "She's riding for a fall," our sage lady said, and again the others nodded.

It was almost impossible that a healthy and fertile woman, engaging in sexual intercourse at least once every day and usually more, would not get pregnant. And so it happened.

Once it had been confirmed by the doctor Sally told Peter. She waited until they had finished copulating once night, and as they lay relaxed and happy, she said, "Peter, I'm going to have a baby."

He said nothing for a few moments but turned on his side to face her, and with his head propped up by his elbow and hand stared at her.

Sally looked at him searchingly, anxious lest after all he might not be pleased, and she seemed to see something in his face that had never been there before. His dark blue eyes were narrowed and his mouth was set in a smile that did not really seem to be a smile.

"You are pleased, aren't you, darling," she asked uneasily.

"Oh yes, I'm very happy," he replied, "It's what I've been waiting for."

"That's wonderful, darling," Sally said, relieved.

"You are sure, aren't you?"

"Oh yes, the doctor has confirmed it."

"Good, wonderful. The only question is, who will you give this one away to?"

"Peter, I don't know what you mean, why should I give away my baby?"

"You gave one baby away."

Sally felt a cold shudder run through her and her face was drained of colour.

"How do you know that?" she gasped. She was struggling for breath and thought she was about to faint.

Through her turmoil of emotions she saw Peter's sneering face and very slowly he said; "I know it because I am the baby you gave away."

Sally heard the words but could not comprehend them.

"Stop it Peter, if this is a joke it's cruel, terribly cruel and you're making me feel ill."

"Giving me away was cruel, and I felt ill when I learned I'd been given away for adoption, so why shouldn't you feel ill now?"

"But it's not possible...it's not true...tell me it's not true."

"Oh it's true all right, mother," he jeered. "A lovely surprise isn't it, having a grown up son? Do you like having me for a son?"

"How did you find me," sobbed Sally, "they're not allowed to reveal..."

"Oh yes, they are now, the law has changed. If an adopted person wants to know who their birth mother was, they can demand the name be given. After that it was easy. It was my good luck that you still lived in the same city as me," he laughed nastily, "even the suburb right next to mine. That was careless of you, mother," he spate out.

"But we've been..."

"Yes, we have, haven't we, and you've enjoyed it haven't you, mother?"

"You knew...you knew all the time."

"Of course I knew, you silly bitch. From the moment I first came into your bloody restaurant I watched you. I saw you fending off the boozy sods who tried to get into your nickers; I watched you playing the dignified hostess, and I thought, 'That's how I can punish her, I'll make her want me to fuck her'. It was so easy, mother, so very easy, and getting you pregnant is just the icing on the cake."

"But why...why did you want to punish me, Peter," wailed Sally.

"Why...you ask why? Surely it's obvious. You gave me away...my own mother and you didn't want me; I've hated you for that. I wanted revenge for being rejected, and now I've got it. Now perhaps you'll tell me why you gave me away."

"I...I...Oh my God..."

She had been staring at Peter and suddenly it came back to her in a blinding flash of memory; the dark hair and blue eyes, the face leering down at her while the others pinioned her to the ground...the face almost feminine yet contorted with lust. "We're going to fuck you until you beg for mercy, bitch," he had said as he thrust into her, tearing her hymen apart.

He had been the first of...four was it...or five? She'd never really known. She'd begged for mercy, but they did not stop. They had grabbed her as she came home from the university library late one night. She'd been dragged into a car crowded with young men and driven to an isolated reserve. There they held her down, tore off her knickers, and now she remembered the first one and Peter was the image of him.

"I was raped," she screamed. "Can you understand that, I was just eighteen and they raped me; I didn't know what to do...I was a virgin and they raped me."

"So?" was his derisive response.

"So my parents told me to have an abortion, but I couldn't face that, so I had you adopted out. For God's sake, I knew you went to a good home. Look at you; the best clothes, a flash car, and I knew you didn't really need the job...there were others who needed it more than you but I..."

"But you fancied me."

"Yes...no...it wasn't like that..."

"What was it like then?"

"It was...was...I don't know. There was something about you. I was...I knew you...I'd seen you somewhere before but I couldn't..."

He laughed, "But you can now?"

"Yes, you animal, you're just like your father, the bastard who raped me first...and now...I gave you everything, I loved you, and you've done this to me, knowing it was incest."

"And didn't you enjoy it...mother?"

Every time he said that word, "mother," it was like a whip lash. It was filled with hatred – the desire to inflict the final humiliation – and above all it was this, his venom that broke her.

He rose from the bed and began to pack the few things he had brought to her flat.

"I'll leave you now, mother. I've done what I came here to do, so I'll leave you to think about the baby you didn't want, and what you're going to do with the one I've put in you.

"I wonder what you'll do. Will you tell everyone that you've been fucked by your own son – the son you didn't want? Or will you make up some fancy story about being raped? It'll be fun if you try and charge me, won't it? Why a mother let her own son fuck her; why she took him into her employ when as all your staff know you didn't need anyone extra; and how it happened that you let him live with you? Good luck... mother."

Four weeks later in a small corner of the local paper an article appeared that in substance said, "Well known restaurant owner Mrs. Sally Marlow found dead. A father and his young son fishing in the river noticed what looked like a bundle of rags floating in the river. They threw out their lines in an attempt to hook the bundle and discovered it was the body of Mrs. Marlow."

"After the autopsy it was discovered that Mrs. Marlow was pregnant. The coroner, after hearing witnesses who said Mrs. Marlow had been behaving erratically in recent times found that, 'Mrs. Marlow had committed suicide while her balance of mind was disturbed.'"

At the funeral of Sally Marlow few of the mourners noticed the young man with dark hair and dark blue eyes who stood at the back of the congregation weeping.

Report in the local paper. "The body of Peter Mainwaring was found in his car on a lonely road south of the city. He had apparently fixed a hose to the exhaust pipe of his car and put the end in the rear window of the vehicle leaving the engine running."

"At the coronial enquiry witnesses said that Peter was a bright and happy young man with a brilliant future before him, and none could think of any reason why he should want to kill himself."

"The coroner declared an open verdict. The police are continuing their investigations."