Homelands Pt. 01 Ch. 11

But we obviously were not. We were something more, supernatural entities that lived off sexual energy. I'd known that before, but it had somehow been hidden from me.

But now, the memories were returning, tumbling free as the walls around them crumbled before the tide of energy my mother fed me with each climax. Of which, there were many.

I realized Mom was right when she said we could control our appearance. Of course she was. Damned Brianna and her damn veils.

The cock I was slamming so furiously into my mother's tight cunt grew with each thrust. I couldn't see the change, but suddenly her pussy felt much, much tighter.

"Oh, god, yes! I was waiting for that! Fuck, baby, you're so huge!"

I remembered something else I could do. Realizing that what I had taken for a furious pace before was only so by human standards, I sped up. Narrow fractions of a second passed between each slap of my balls against Mom's wide, soft ass cheeks. And, to top it all off, I reached out, metaphysically, and amplified her senses. The stimulation she was receiving would feel at least half again as intense, maybe even twice as much.

"Oh...oh...yeah, that's it. Just like that," she moaned.

Mom's walls spasmed around my cock and I felt her ejaculate again. Throwing her head back, she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her hips thrust up to meet mine. But she wasn't moving as fast, so I got three or four full pumps in for each thrust of hers.

After another monster orgasm, Mom collapsed onto her back. I fell on top of her, gave her a few more quick pumps, and then blew my seed deep into her. After my balls settled down, I climbed off and flopped onto my back beside her. My breathing was ragged. A lot more than a load of sticky cum had flowed from me into Mom just then. But that didn't seem important. I just stared at my mother, smiling uncontrollably.

Her inky black hair was a mess. Her makeup was starting to run. Beads of sweat stood out on her forehead, cheeks, the nape of her neck, and between her legs, which were spread wide so she could air out. "Oh, god, baby. That was so amazing." She moaned contentedly. "I think I'll be riding that high for days."

I walked over to the dresser, uncorked the bottle of wine, and poured it into the plastic cups that came with the room. "Not likely," I said.

Mom waved her hand over her pussy. "Well, obviously, I was exaggerating."

Handing her a cup of wine, I said, "Right. But what I meant is that you're assuming there won't be anything else tonight to eclipse it."

Mom propped herself up on her elbows, took the wine from me. "And I shouldn't?"

"Nope."

"Hmm. Well, either way, if there was any guilt before, it's gone now. I don't want to live in a world that says I can't experience sex that good because it's with my son."

"Same here," I said. I turned my back to her, looked at myself in the mirror. My chest grew thicker, more defined, my shoulders broader and still more chiseled.

"Mmm, that's nice," Mom said. "But you know...." She chewed at her lip, apparently contemplating whether to say what was on her mind. "Don't take this the wrong way dear. You were awfully irresistible to begin with. Quite literally, it would appear," she said, blushing. "But, if you're going to bother burning up some of the energy that would be put to better use fucking my brains out, why not some extra height? A little 5 o' clock shadow? A broader jaw? You know women notice things other than the size of your cock and your muscles, right?" She climbed out of bed, walked over to me slowly, and leaned against my back. Her hands wrapped around my broad shoulders, gently signaling that the changes I had made were certainly appreciated. "And would it kill you to grow your hair out a bit? There's nothing for me to grab onto when you're between my legs."

My head spun. She sounded exactly like my mother, in all the wrong ways. And yet, this was not a conversation one had with one's mother.

It was both frustrating and intensely arousing at the same time.

"I don't know," was all I said. Then I grew a few inches taller, filled out my jaw. "Wouldn't stubble make it unpleasant to kiss me? And what about when I go down on you? I always thought the rule was clean-shaven or at least a full beard."

"Well," she said, trailing a fingernail lightly across my cheek, around the outside of my ear. "Your grandfather used to do this thing. It was so hot. He would grow this nice stubble that made him look nice and rugged. Maybe just a bit longer than stubble. A short beard, I guess you could say. But not a proper beard. Then he'd make his mouth and chin smooth whenever he was going down on me, or while we kissed. It would grow right back after. So whenever I looked at him, or ran my hands over his cheeks, it was there, but it wasn't when I didn't want it to be. That's what our powers let us do, you know? And it was just one of the many thoughtful little touches that made your Grandpa Dick the best lover I ever had."

Wow. I didn't know how to react to that.

Probably should have been more jealous than I was. If she'd said Dom was the best lover she'd ever had, I would have freaked out. So how weird was it that I thought it sweet that she said that about her late father?

But, then, I didn't have to compete with him for my mother's attention anymore. Unlike Grandma Kaitlin, who we pretended was dead while in the mortal world, a world to which she had no intentions of ever returning, but who was in fact still very much alive, Grandpa Dick had indeed died. In a car accident. Perhaps it took a violent death to actually kill our kind, since aging didn't really mean much to us.

At any rate, I did, of course, grow some stubble, and let my hair grow out a few inches.

Mom kissed my shoulder, gave my ass a light tap, and walked back to the nightstand to retrieve her plastic cup. She tilted her head back and took a few gulps of the wine. Then she closed her eyes, wiggled her fingers, and touched up her appearance.

Her makeup looked perfect again. And if you'd told me a professional stylist had just finished fixing her hair, I'd have believed you.

She went over and sat at the small table by the window, sipping her wine slowly. "More importantly though, do you have any idea what's happening?"

"Not really," I said.

"Do you know how many times this has happened before?" she asked.

"Are you sure it has?"

She stretched her legs out, rubbing her calves. "Yeah. You don't remember? I'm not sure of all the details. There was a ski lodge. Another hotel room. I'm also pretty sure you've fucked me in our own house before. I think we've had some somewhat-less-than-wholesome fun for the whole family, in fact. Actually, I'm sure of it. This past summer, after you discovered a video of me and my father, all three of my boys fucked me at once right in the living room. And Nat eventually joined us."

I frowned.

"Oh, don't sulk. Whatever this is, it obviously involves all of us. I've every right to share it with each of my sons, if I so choose."

"No, I know. Of course. But you can't blame me for not loving the idea of sharing."

Mom smiled. "Frank." She said my name like it had four syllables. The way she did when she was disappointed in me, but touched at the same time. Like she thought I was being naive. "That's sweet. But you haven't been exclusive to me any more than I've been to you. Don't you remember?"

I couldn't picture any of it in my mind, but I was sure she was right.

"Sorry," I said. "I realize this isn't some kind of relationship."

"It's just sex. Really fucking good sex...but still, just sex."

"Yeah," I said. "But I assume you were less than enthused about sharing Grandpa with Liz, right? And you did have to sometimes, didn't you?"

She looked at me softly. "Okay, you've got me there. But the point is, I did share him. True enough, I didn't love having to do that. But I did, and I didn't try to give my father guilt trips about it. We were meant to share, Frank."

"Duly noted," I said.

"Besides," she continued, her voice returning to normal, "I didn't say they were as good as you. I can't remember everything we've all done, but I remember that. Nobody knows how to please me the way you do."

By which, of course, she meant no one that was still alive. But that was a qualification I could live with. As long as that was the only exception. We all threw around superlatives a bit too loosely, myself included. I hoped in this case, it was at least mostly true.

I came over to the table. She lowered her leg back to the floor, and I sat across from her. Leaning forward, I caressed the insides of her smooth thighs. "Is that so."

She purred. "Mmm-hmm. You know just what mommy needs." Her voice got a bit randier. "I do so like getting railed by more than one guy at a time though."

I tossed one of her shoes to the floor, peeled her stocking off. "You mean like earlier."

Her breathing was rapid. "Yes," she said after a pause. "Is that okay?"

I nodded as I started massaging her foot. "Yeah. I can't pretend I didn't get a little jealous. But it is pretty fucking hot that you're so insatiable."

"Yeah?" she said in a cutesy voice.

"I'm about ready to cum just thinking about it. My mother's a total slut. Can't get enough cock, no matter how hard she tries. And god, does she try. But in the end, it's mine that she craves the most. What's not to like?"

"Mmm, baby, you're the best." But this time her tone was mechanical.

Okay, message received. Cool it with the jealousy.

Mom pulled her foot from my hand, pressed it delicately against my cock, running the smooth underside back and forth over my sensitive head a few times before trailing her toes over my balls. Then she let her foot drop to the floor and raised the other one into my lap, kicking away her shoe as she did. I peeled that stocking off as well, went to work on that foot. She moaned throatily. "And you're hands are almost as magical as your stiff dick. Tell me, are you as good with your tongue? I seem to remember that you are."

"You'll find out in a minute," I said.

"That would be nice."

I pressed my fingers between her toes, my palm against the arch of her foot. After a fashion, I raised her foot to my mouth and sucked on her toes, trailed my tongue down the sole of her foot. She cooed softly.

"So tell me. Who else do you want to fuck? Besides your mother."

"Putting out feelers for a threesome, are we? An MFF?"

"Maybe. Maybe just making conversation. I'm not under the impression that you're going to be at my side every minute of this thing. Nor should you be."

I tried to take that in the way it was intended. "Tara," I said. "If she's part of this. Is she even family? Is this only family, or do you suppose it's centered on the office?"

"Are you sure those aren't one and the same?"

"I don't remember ever seeing Skye, the twins, Tara, or Iva growing up."

"I think Tara's my sister. Estranged or something. Maybe because she had children out of wedlock, and a black man's children at that. Yeah. I think that's what happened. For some reason, I only remember her from the days back before I was initiated, when I still though we were an ordinary family. We used to fight about clothes and boys and stupid stuff. She must have taken part in the family tradition at some point, but she's a good deal younger than me. Maybe I'd already moved out by the time she came of age."

"And Iva?"

"She looks sort of like a younger Cindy. I'm guessing she's also your aunt." She paused. "That would put a considerable gap between her, her brother and her sister. Cindy's only two years younger than Gus, but Iva must be at least a decade younger than Cindy. But then, stranger things have happened."

I nodded. It did actually make sense. There was definitely some similarity.

"So, Tara then?" Mom asked.

I cleared my throat, taking a break from seducing her feet. "Yeah. That weird?"

"No, not at all. Makes sense. And it's reassuring, in an odd way. Though I realize that, having just said we shouldn't be thinking of this as exclusive, I shouldn't care. But the nice part about being the mother, I get to contradict myself and you just have to deal with it."

I focused on eliciting some deep moans as I licked and sucked her foot before replying. "Naturally. So what's reassuring about Tara?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'm being silly, I guess."

"No, it's fine. I'm just curious."

"Mmm, yes, keep doing that. Oh, you are gifted with your tongue." She rubbed her palm over her naked sex. "Well, she's almost the same age as me. And she has real curves. Isn't a tiny little skin and bones type, like Brianna. I'm glad you didn't say her name."

"No, not my type."

"Tara's a redhead too," Mom observed wryly.

"Oh, is she?" I said. "I hadn't noticed. In that case, I change my mind."

Mom dropped the foot I was working to my crotch and raised the other there too. I was surprised, though I realized I probably shouldn't have been given what I was remembering we all could do, as she gave me a reasonably good handjob with her feet. "Who else?"

"I don't care what other guys you fuck, you know. I know you like black guys. I mean, what white woman doesn't, apparently. But it doesn't really matter to me who the next guy lucky enough to be with you is."

"Just a little bit of unsolicited advice. Women don't especially enjoy it when men let it show that they feel threatened by other men. At all. I'd keep those comments to yourself."

Right. We'd already covered that. I silently cursed at myself.

"Anyway, I don't, really. Some women do. Your sister certainly does. Since you've gone away to school, I think four of the five guys she's brought home were black. But that means she's already slept with more black guys than I have in my entire life. Not that it's any of your business one way or another."

"Fair enough," I said.

"Anyway, moving on. I appreciate you saying that you don't care who I sleep with next, but I'm not buying it," she said. "Can you honestly say it wouldn't even feel like a pinprick if I said I was really hoping to have Dom force himself on me soon?"

My heart skipped a beat.

"Mmm, thought so," she said. "Don't worry, he's not on the agenda at the moment anyway. I seem to remember I had a huge crush on him for the longest time, but I think I'm pretty much over it at this point."

I tried to hide my sigh of relief, though I didn't believe I was very successful.

"The only one I remember being half as attentive to a woman's needs as you is Jack."

For some reason, that made me, well, not happy. I didn't like hearing Mom say anything especially positive about any of the other men she'd taken as lovers. Especially those that were still alive. But reassuring was a good way of putting it. Dom's physique was more similar to mine than Jack's. But Jack and I had similar personalities. Even if that didn't tend to carry over into the bedroom as I'd always believed it did, it still felt like she was basically saying she was drawn to men who had those qualities of which I happened to be particularly proud of having myself.

"I take that as a stamp of approval," she said, still caressing my cock with her feet.

"Yeah," I said. "I get what you meant about Tara."

"So...who else?"

I thought for a moment. "I don't know. Too bad Liz isn't here. I guess Cindy."

Mom raised an eyebrow. "Would've thought you'd say Natalie."

"There's something really sexy about a woman with experience. Not that I think Natalie hasn't been getting any. But, you know."

"Good answer," Mom said.

"So. You weren't necessarily getting at this, but would you be open to a threesome?"

Mom closed her eyes, ran her finger in circles around a stiff, pink nipple through the flimsy fabric of her bra. "Tara would work for me. Most definitely."

If possible, I got a bit harder still.

"But if I do that for you, you can't complain when I decide I want a bunch of guys to ravage me. And I'm not even promising I'll invite you. Can you deal with that?" she asked.

My breath caught. "Yeah. I can deal with it."

She smiled. "Good."

"Anyway, enough talk," I said, climbing out of the chair. I scooped her up out of hers and carried her over to the bed. I laid her down and stared into her eyes. "Ready?"

"Baby, if you so much as breathe on my clit, I might cum."

True to her word, it took her almost no time to reach climax. My hands were kneading her ass like dough and the occasional brush of my thumb teased either her asshole or her moist pussy lips, but it was mostly my mouth on the small of her back that finished her. I kissed up her spine, worked her neck and ears for a while, then turned her over. I had just ripped her bra off and was starting to work on her breasts when she came for a second time.

She had a third orgasm as I worked her hips. Having teased her mercilessly, I finally threw myself fully into pleasuring her vulva. I slowly upped the ante from one or two brief flicks to her outer folds to mostly focusing on her labia, but never quite touching her clit. I'd forgotten how she tasted of blackberries and raspberries. Delicious. Eating her out was almost as much a treat for me as for her, she tasted so good. I licked around her lips frequently, with the briefest interruption of the pattern to include her inner folds. She was rocking her hips, trying to fuck my face, begging me to focus more on her clit. But my neck, comprised of muscles like thick steel cables, would not bow to her pressure. She was still going to have to wait a bit before I turned my attention to her stiff little love bud.

At last, I gave in. After that buildup, I felt sure that when the first flick of my tongue finally caressed her clitoris, she would assume it was a feint. But I launched a full assault on her womanhood. I licked around and underneath it. I softened my tongue and pulsed it back and forth against her button. I stiffened the tip and flicked it up and down her clit like I was plucking guitar strings.

Most women would have screamed at that much intense stimulation, but we were different. Our tolerance for pleasure was inhuman. At the same time, when we allowed ourselves to succumb to the efforts of our partners, it was often easier for us to climax, and climax repeatedly. A beautiful combination.

Not long after I began working her clitoris furiously, I slid a few fingers inside her. At first, I was modest with them, curling to the sides, flittering them back and forth with no real aim. But soon, I thrust my hand deeper and deeper inside her, my knuckles massaging her swollen pussy lips while my fingers reached for the back wall of her vagina, only to suddenly twist around and tap-tap-tap rapid-fire against her G-spot. Then I'd twirl again. Eventually, I worked the thumb of my other hand into her asshole.

Mom came and came, ejaculating each time. She gushed energy like a fire hose.

I didn't stop when she came, but I slowed. She eased into a much smaller, slower pulsing orgasm as I wound down and eventually took my fingers out of her. Even after doing so, though, I kept up my oral ministrations.

After bringing her to one last monster orgasm, I finally came up for air, wiping her juices from my mouth and chin.

Mom's labia, nipples, mouth, and cheeks were flushed deep red. Her breathing came rapidly. Her massive breasts heaved up and down. With eyes closed, she said, "Frank, you're a god. An absolute god. I lost count of how many orgasms you just gave me."

"Glad you enjoyed it," I said.

"Enjoyed? That's like saying childbirth is mildly unpleasant. But if this is what it leads to, damn is it ever worth it."

I rested my shoulder on the bed, planted a few soft kisses on the inside of her thigh.

"Seriously, baby, even after the amazing show you put on earlier, and the way you practically got me off kissing my feet, I still wasn't prepared for that. You should open up a school or something. You'd make the women of the world very happy if you could manage to teach just a few men half of what you know."