Chapter Six: Mothers, Sons and Lovers
In the end, Jason Jackson's arms remained in plaster for a further two weeks, a total of six altogether. The news of their removal was greeted by an enormous sigh of relief and then elation for the young man. But the elation and relief was immediately replaced by a sense of dismay and disbelief, because when the casts were actually taken off Jason was shocked to see his once muscular and tanned arms looking a pale washed-out yellow, shrivelled and skinny. Where had his lovely toned biceps gone? It was an ugly and miserable spectacle, and after the elation of his new-found freedom, he became resentful and tearful, almost suicidal.
"Yes, I know, it's sometimes a shock when the plasters are first taken off," said the nurse, sensing Jason's sudden change of mood. "You expect everything to be as before... and as we can see..." She was rubbing the feeling back into his arms. "It will be a little while yet before you get the strength and muscle tone back. You'll need to exercise your arms every day, but don't rush things. At first you'll be surprised how weak they feel, in fact they won't feel like your arms at all for the first couple of days. But don't worry... they'll soon be as good as new again."
The nurse went over to a printer next to the PC on her desk.
"I've run off a course of exercises for you. If you follow these sensibly, you shouldn't have any problems getting back to normal. Just don't think you can start right back doing all the things you were able to do before the accident... all right? And I shall want to see you in a week's time."
Mrs Jackson drove her son home. He was quiet in the car. She tried to make conversation and was puzzled by his mood, but sensed his disappointment and decided it best to just drive and keep to herself.
"My fucking arms look like fucking shit, Mum!" he said at last, as they turned into their home street.
"Oh, you are speaking to me, then?"
"And they're still useless."
"What do you mean, useless?"
"What do you think I mean? Useless is fucking useless, isn't it?"
"What are you saying then..? That I've still got to assist you? Wank you off still?"
Carol stifled a grin. Instantly, she bit her tongue and regretted her flippancy. But Jason had already begun to laugh and suddenly they were laughing together like it was all a big joke, and in a way, it was. At least the suffocating tension had been broken.
Carol stopped the car outside the house and they got out. Jason's dark mood seemed to have lightened and his mother breathed a little easier.
"I mean, have a look, Mum... Don't they just look fucking awful? I've got the arms of a ninety-year-old now." He was flexing them, trying to raise them up as they walked up the garden path, but the nurse had been right... they did feel like they didn't belong to him. They hurt like hell and there was no strength in them. "I mean, for ages I haven't been able to do sod-all with them. And now..."
"You still can't do sod-all, right?" His mother smiled. "But there is an upside, Jay..."
"Yeah, what would that be then, Mum?"
Carol was putting the key in the door, turning the lock. They went inside and she closed the door behind them. She turned to face him and put her arms around his neck. "I'll still have to see to you for a while then, won't I? Just till you get your strength back."
"I suppose you will, Mother."
"Now give Mummy a big mushy kiss. It's so nice to have you back to normal."
"Hardly normal, Mum."
"Well, as long as you're still too weak to push me away, I don't care. Give me a kiss."
And suddenly his mother's lips were upon his in an embrace like they had never shared before. It seemed no natural to be doing so. Jason could only manage to put his arms around her waist as she continued to hold him to her. He felt her breasts pressing into his midriff as she tightened her hold on him. And then something happened that almost made him recoil in surprise, yet wasn't totally unexpected.
Her tongue slid between his lips, thrusting forcefully between his teeth and insinuated itself in his mouth. Jason's stomach did a flip-flop, his mother's tongue sliding and swirling against his own. After all the things that had happened between them – the helping with his toilet, the tossing-off, the fantastic blow job – somehow this one act, a special kiss with his mother, seemed to surpass everything that had gone before. It was far more daring, exciting and erotic by its nature of closeness and intimacy, than even the sexual acts had been. It was as if a significant step forward had taken place in their relationship, a shift in emphasis and status, a symbolic commitment of true love between mother and son. And as he yielded and reciprocated his mother's kisses, so the silent tears of emotion came to his eyes and his body began to tremble.
"Come on. We should both be happy," she said, finally releasing him and drawing back so she could focus on his face. She took her arms from around his neck and wiped away, first his tears, then the smear of lipstick from his mouth. Then she held on to the strangely soft flesh of his forearms and smiled lovingly into his liquid eyes.
"So why don't I make us a nice cup of tea? I've got some chocolate digestive biscuits too... your favourite. Tonight we'll celebrate not only your freedom, but ours too. We'll get pissed together with a bottle of wine and some beers. What do you say, tiger?"
"I reckon that'll be just fucking great, Mother."
They embraced again and Carol backed her son up against the front door. She felt around Jason's bulging crotch with a hunger and urgency that surprised even them.
Mrs Jackson slid her son's zip down in one smooth movement and freed his cock, already semi-erect with the turning tide of hot blood. She kissed him tenderly before saying. "I think we both know where this is leading, Jay... and speaking for myself... I cannot fight it anymore."
And she slid down his body until she was on her knees and eye-to-eye with his bobbing prick. She looked up into his face, meeting his brown eyes that were almost black with lust. "I'm going to give you such a blow job, young man."
"Oh fuck, Mother! Suck me off hard, you little tart. I love you."
"I love you too, darling." And she brought him to a superbly intense climax inside 60 seconds which filled her mouth with her son's lovely cum.
Jason's legs buckled and he slid down against the front door until he too was on his knees and face to face with his mother. And together they shared a champagne kiss, his mother transferring half the load to Jason's mouth so that he could enjoy the taste also. Temporarily exhausted, Jason slumped forward and his mother cradled his head against her warm, aching bosom and ran her fingers through his sweat-tousled hair.
"Tonight, my rutty boy," she said after a moment. "You are going to fuck me. It's high time you and I became properly acquainted!"
That night, in front of the telly, Jason and his mother snuggled up on the sofa. Carol had just started on her second bottle of wine. Jason was on his fifth bottle of mini-bud that he was drinking through two straws. It was more comfortable that way. They were watching Mamma Mia on DVD.
Jason was in his jim-jams, black shorts and grey tee-shirt because he felt more comfortable than being in jeans and underpants. His mother had elected to wear a very sexy red tartan skirt that left little to the imagination. Up top she had on a skimpy white sweater which showed the shape of her superb breasts beautifully. A pair of white ankle-socks and white trainers gave her a nice 'innocent-yet-tarty' look. They were both feeling nice and comfortable, and pleasantly sozzled.
Carol put her drink on the side and took Jason's bud from him and put that on the side also. She held his right hand between hers and caressed it, lovingly as well as maternally. She was sitting on his left and lolled against his shoulder as a feeling of light-headedness kicked in.
"So what's it like getting sucked off by your mother?"
Jason laughed at her boldness. "It's really hot, Mum. You're just fantastic, and I still can't believe it."
"You do fancy me, don't you, Jay?"
"Course, yeah. You're really great, Mum. You give me a hard-on every time you're near me."
"Do I really?"
"Yeah, straight up! All my mates call you a MILF, a scrummy-mummy. And I love your smell, Mum."
"What, my perfume?"
"Yeah... that too."
"What do you mean, that too?"
"Well, I like your other smells too."
"Yeah, you know... your natural scent?"
Carol laughed. "Natural scent? What would that be then?"
"Well, you know... your... natural smell."
"Well, come on then, tell me."
"I am telling you."
"What do I smell of then?"
"I can't explain it. Just nice smells. I used to sniff your knickers when I was at school." Jason blushed.
"What... in the classroom, you mean?"
"No, don't be daft. I mean when I was that age."
"What..? You mean you used to take them out of my drawer, you naughty boy?"
"Sometimes, yeah. But mostly out of the wash-basket. The ones you'd been wearing that day."
"You filthy pig."
"Oh, don't say that, Mum?"
"Well what am I supposed to say? Did they look nice on you?" Carol laughed, and put Jason's hand halfway up the inside of her thigh, but still below her hemline. He looked at their hands, flat together, against her bare tanned leg.
"I didn't wear them."
"I bet you did."
"I didn't... well, maybe once or twice." Jason giggled. "Just to get the feel, you know."
"Yeah, see? I knew it. I used to suspect it at the time, but I never said anything. What else did you do?"
"I just used to sniff them."
"What, put them over your head?"
"No, just smell them, you know... the gusset."
"Ooh-er!" Carol laughed.
"It was lovely, Mum. It used make me get a real hard-on."
"You didn't wank into them too, did you?"
"Err! What a mucky little pup you were."
"Still am, Mum."
Carol was encouraging her son's hand to move higher up her leg. She felt confident now that when she took her hand away, Jason's would remain to explore her further. She was right.
"Would you like to smell them again? The ones I've got on?"
"What, you mean right now?"
"When you're ready. Why not? Bring back some nice memories for you."
"Oh Mum, I'd really love to. That would be such a turn-on. By the way, what does my cum taste like?"
"You should know. I let you have a taste... remember?"
"I don't know how you can swallow all that stuff."
"I didn't. You had half."
"Oh yeah, that's what it was. I thought your kiss tasted kind of funny."
Jason's hand was now under his mother's tartan skirt, almost to the top of her thigh. Her skin felt wonderfully soft and pliant. He noticed how, the higher his hand went up her skirt, the more humid the atmosphere became. It was as if his hand was advancing towards a seething pit of serpents.
"I had a really weird dream the other day, Mum?"
"It was a fucking nightmare, I tell you. I couldn't mention it at the time. I dreamed I was back in hospital and... well, to cut a long story short, a doctor and two nurses were milking me for my sperm. I remember the big old nurse saying that they would make sure there was none left for my mother."
"Well, I think we can prove her wrong, can't we?"
He was suddenly aware that his hand now lay almost on her cunt and he felt strangely self-conscious about it, like he had suddenly realised how far he'd come and there was fear and doubt in his mind.
There had been a few times with girls his own age where he'd got this far only for them to stop him, slapping his wrists, admonishing and belittling him, not allowing him to venture further. He would feel frustrated and angry and resent them. Nature was cruel like that. Hold the carrot out and then snatch it away; that was her game in life. For a moment he feared history may repeat itself.
But this was his mother, a fully mature woman in the best and most beautiful years of her life, not some immature floozy with designs on getting a ring on her finger in exchange for a bunk-up. She would not thwart or humiliate him.
What could be better than sex with your own mother, especially one as attractive as his? And you didn't really have to worry about getting a mum pregnant either. A mum could take care of herself; a mum would know all the little wrinkles and dodges to keep her out of trouble. A mum knows best, and especially what's best for her son. Needs must, Mrs Jackson. A mother's intuition. It always comes to the fore in times of adversity.
His hand was now spread across his mother's warm crotch. His heart beat like a tom-tom. She made no attempt to stop him. She just sort of moaned inwardly and lolled heavily against him.
She breathed into his ear: "I'd like you to be really naughty with Mummy, Jay."
"In what way?"
"I'd like you to... I'd like you to lick me off, you bad, rude boy." She giggled. "Would you like to please Mummy that way? You can have a nice sniff of my panties first to get you in the mood."
Jason's heart almost skipped a beat in astonishment. Had his mother actually said what he thought he'd heard her say?
Her skirt had risen enough to show a flash of her pure white cotton knickers, erotic in their simplicity, provocative in their cleanliness and beckoning from the darkness within like a temptress in the shadows. He pressed the light material against her, feeling the springiness of her lush bush beneath. Here was his mistress, his nemesis, the thing that brought him into the world and would now humble him into submission, consume him and quite possibly consign him forever to hell.
Carol positioned herself so that her legs were astride him and she was lying back on the arm of the sofa. Jason continued to run his fingers across her warm pantied crotch, probing gently into the soft folds and crevices, familiarising himself with the geography and physiology of his mother's sacred domain. Her skirt was now up around her waist, the dark shadowed 'V' of her pubis visible through the brilliant white cotton. Her crotch was damp, humid like the atmosphere of a glasshouse. A strong scent wafted from her, a reek of expectation and excitement that signalled her desire, the desire to be possessed by her own flesh and blood.
Jason felt his mother's hands on the back of his head, urging him towards her. For a moment the scent of her reminded him of those days when he'd held her soiled panties to his nose and devoured his mother's essence. But this scent was now, today, it was real, alive and cloying, drawing him down so that now his nose rested on her cunt. He breathed her in deeply, allowing her odour to permeate his being. He nuzzled her with the tip of his nose and felt her legs flex in response. He noticed that depending on where he touched her, there was a variation in responses that acted like a road map for him. Her smell was warm and divine, a musky, talcy, vaguely fishy essence that made his cock like throbbing rock.
Between his mouth and nose and his mother's cunt, there was only a millimetre of cotton fabric. It would only now be a matter of sliding them down. It was easy because she raised her legs into the air so that he could slide them off. He sniffed the panties before tossing them onto the floor. His mother made herself convenient and available for the attentions of her son's mouth, his lips and his tongue. She remained with her legs elevated, her hands behind her knees, supporting the weight. This had the effect of displaying all her naked charms in a lewd and provocative way. Her cunt and even her arsehole were presented to him in a way that was at the same time shameless and shameful. The cocktail of scents, woman odours, emanated from her twin orifices and imbued him with lust and passion.
He used his fingers to open her, parting her lips like the petals of a beautiful pink rose and marvelled at the glistening flesh within. There was a faint odour of drying pee on her pubes. It was irresistible and soon his tongue was gliding along her lush pink gash, running up and down the full length while his mother made little sighs and inward moaning sounds.
As he ran his lips and tongue up and down the length of his mother's slit, sucking her here and there, he heard her breathless voice imploring him: "Do my bottom as well, darling."
And Jason obeyed without question, his libido and lust was cranked right up. His tongue located his mother's smaller hole. It had a dry feel and taste, quite tart. But he slicked it up, using his hands to part her buttocks and expose more of it. Soon his tongue slithered inside the tight hole and he worked it round, opening and relaxing her. The taste of her arsehole was in stark contrast to her cunt. This little orifice was dry and bitter, yet somehow so naughty and exciting - the forbidden hole. Whatever it was, his mother left him in no doubt of the pleasure she was receiving from it.
"Now do my clitty, darling." And he watched as her forefinger traced along her slit and located it for him somewhere near the top of her vagina, releasing it from the protective shroud of flesh. It stood out, exposed like an embarrassed, inflamed morsel of flesh. When he attended it with soft lips and swirling tongue, his mother's body moved in harmony, guiding him into giving her the luscious, almost electric sensations. Her breathing became rapid, almost ragged, and her soft sighs more frequent and urgent. Her syrup and honey slicked his tongue, surrounded his mouth. He drank the intoxicating liquid from his mother's furry cup. Each stab of the tongue was met by a corresponding flexing of the legs, an arching of the back, or a mournful sigh. But suddenly she was tearing at his hair.
"No, no!" He heard her voice saying. And she was pulling his head away by a handful of hair with one hand, and at his shorts with the other, ripping them down as if there was an urgency that had to be addressed immediately. "I need your cock in me now, darling. Please be quick. You must fuck me now and we will cum together."
And then he was inside her. It just seemed to happen. So perfectly naturally. No fuss or fumbling. It was unbelievable. Like a lovely all-consuming dream. His cock moved inside her, through the slick and the viscous, his pubis bumping with hers. He tore her top off, and worked his hands feverishly at the breasts still protected inside the Janet Raeger bra. But he would not be denied and this too he pushed up and away without any unfastening. Her breasts tumbled out like jellies from the mould, popping and flopping in front of him. Jason immersed himself in his mother's tits, sucking the pointing nipples and smothering himself in their womanhood and maternal comfort while his prick drove hard into her sopping cunt with a ferocity that made Carol grunt at the summit of each lancing thrust. He was very good. She was even better.
And then the clawing of his back by the long red-varnished nails signalled that the moment was upon her. Her legs wrapped around his waist clamping her body to him, ensuring that there would be no escape from her intended goal. She piercing shriek hurt his ear, but any painful side effect was numbed by the intense orgasm that wracked his body. His sperm jetted into her womb with a force that threatened to leave his balls on the floor. His cum flowed from him in a seemingly never-ending molten gush. His mother's legs squeezed him, as did her vaginal muscles which held and constricted his cock, as if wringing from him every last drop of cum.
And then it was done. They melted into one another, becoming whole. They lay wordless, breathing heavily for a few moments while they floated back to earth on beds of feathers where they fell asleep in each other's arms. Their love had been consummated, but was it with the blessing of God, or the Devil?