Homelands Pt. 01 Ch. 16

Homelands: Autumn

Part One

Chapter Sixteen

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You might want to read Chapters One through Fifteen first.

This is primarily an incest story, but it is also sci-fi/fantasy. Supernatural forces play a prominent role throughout the novel.

All characters are over eighteen. All acts are consensual.

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A soft breeze blew up from the sea below, carrying a hint of saltwater with it. With a shiver, Mom pressed her back against my chest, wrapped my arm around her shoulder like it was a shawl. We stared out over the balcony of our cottage, sipping chilled wine.

"So. You're really serious about this?" she asked for the umpteenth time that day.

"Fraid so. At this point, I think there's no turning back, even if I wanted to. If I tried, Brianna would do something even worse than sending me undercover. I'm sure of it."

Mom sighed. "Probably right."

I kissed the top of her head. "Are you sure you're going to be safe? Promise me you'll be careful while I'm gone."

She popped an elbow in my ribs, though not with any real force. "That's my line."

I laughed.

"Seriously. I'm expecting a promise, mister. Or you don't get to fuck me again."

"That's an empty threat. You couldn't turn me down if you wanted to."

Mom paused, sipped her wine. "Maybe so. But you should still promise me. I'm your mother, and that means I get to demand such things."

"I promise. I'll be careful."

"It would be nice if you didn't make it so obvious that you're just humoring me."

"You think I'm planning on getting Devoured or something?"

She sighed, leaning her head back against my chest. "It doesn't have to make sense, honey. I worry. It's what I do."

"I know," I said, kissing her hair again.

When we were in the throes of ecstasy, it was easy to stop thinking of her as my mother. Not that I forgot, exactly. But the balance between lover and provider tilted heavily towards the former. And when we were under a veil, I tended to think of her just in terms of the latter, though it was never long before I started to develop a vague sense that we were not like other families, that few guys spent time wondering whether their mother was trying to seduce them, or would be open to being seduced by them.

Times like these, when she was very actively playing both roles, made my head spin.

But it was every bit as intoxicating as it was disorienting.

"Here," Mom said, pulling a silver pendant shaped like a leaf out of..., well I'm not sure where she'd been carrying it. "I want you to have this."

"What is it?" I asked.

"A good luck charm." When I didn't reply, she said, with a sigh, "Of course. You don't believe in luck. Well, maybe it's magic then."

"What does this `magic' charm do?" I asked.

"It marks you as a favorite son of Autumn. And that keeps you safe." Perhaps anticipating my reaction, she elaborated, "It suppresses people's desire to harm you. Won't stop them from doing so if they're really intent on it, but they're less likely to be so in the first place. The more energy you're carrying, the more effective it will be. But it's never going to be foolproof, mind you. Don't let it become an excuse to be reckless."

I took the charm from her and gasped when it sank into my chest. My flesh parted before it then closed behind it without leaving a scar. "Where did you get it?"

"There's probably eight or nine of them in the various Autumnal Courts. They're as old as the courts themselves. Most of the more prominent families have one. Your father and his mother both have one. You can be sure Silas does as well."

"So. Favorite son," I said.

"Autumn's," Mom said with a faint grin.

"Right. Autumn's." Presumably Liz, who had been Devoured by her daughter, and Tara, who had been exiled by her mother, were not given any. I guess that meant Mom had not just been, up until now, one of Autumn's favorite daughters, but her mother's as well. "Tell me something, Mom. How long have you been part of this world?"

I felt her back stiffen. Evidently not the follow-up question she expected.

"Since I came of age. More or less the same as was true for you, though we waited a bit longer with you so that we could initiate the four of you at once. Why?"

Gathering up her silky hair, I swept it aside to expose the back of her neck, which I then kissed several times. "Well, it's just... obviously time is a funny concept when you call two entirely different worlds home. Worlds that experience time quite differently. So I don't know what time, or age, means for us, at least not after we reach the point where we switch back and forth between these two worlds constantly. But I don't even know how old you are. If that's actually a coherent question."

She didn't reply for a while. When she finally did, all she said was, "It's not, really."

"Figured as much. It doesn't really matter anyway. I'm just curious. I mean, I've got a pretty good idea of how old I am, because we all spent eighteen years in the mortal world, after you got pregnant with Nat. And it wasn't long after she turned eighteen that all of this began. But I can't even begin to wrap my head around how old or young you are."

"That's just the way of things. Very few of us can keep track of our age beyond our first eighteen years. In some extenuating circumstances, one of our kind will be separated from their families and won't discover who they are auntil well into adulthood, so they can count past eighteen without things getting fuzzy. And some families violate the stricture against premature initiation. But when they're found out, they're dealt with harshly."

I shuddered at the thought. If not for social norms, I'm not sure I'd even have a tinge of residual guilt about having recreational, consensual sex with the adult members of my family. Especially since we weren't even human. But the fact that I felt no guilt about consensual acts amongst adults didn't mean I was okay with child abuse.

"So, basically," Mom continued, "unless they make a point of keeping very careful track of exactly how much time they've spent in each world, all any of us knows is that they're over eighteen, older than their kids, and younger than their parents. More or less." She caressed my forearms tenderly. "Of course, we do sort of age, even after reaching adulthood. My natural appearance, if you want to think of it that way, looks older now than it once did. But part of that is psychological. When you play the same mortal role long enough, you start to think of yourself as getting older."

"Makes sense," I said.

"Don't speak too soon. It's even more complicated than that. The representation of the mortal world that you know isn't the first one we've created, or the first one I've lived in. If I told you the mortal calendar year in which I was born, you wouldn't believe me. But the number of mortal years that have passed since I was born would make your head spin for the opposite reason. I've seen the Y2K panic, and the 9/11 attacks, three times now. So depending on how you look at it, you might think I'm only a few years older than you, or old enough to be your great-great-grandmother. I remember playing the part of a woman in her forties better than I do a woman in her sixties, but I've been that too. I'd lived a long life already by the time I married your father."

"I see," I said. "I wish I could've known you when you were younger."

Mom laughed awkwardly, sipped her wine.

"Sorry. I guess that's a weird thing to say."

"It's...sweet," she said. "But, baby, let's not do this. There's so much pain down that path. For you, in the parts that I care to remember. For me, in the ones that I don't."

Mom finished her wine in a big gulp and stepped away from the balcony, leading me by the hand back inside. I stared in awe at the way her fat ass moved under the blue and white pinstripe men's dress shirt that she wore. Besides the shirt, the only other thing she wore was a pair of white socks. Perhaps because she sometimes had dressed like that when I was kid, back when she was thinner and Dad's shirts still fit her, the outfit did as much for me as the racy lingerie she usually wore.

I let her pull me along for a while, but after a few steps I sped up and swept her up into my arms. She laughed as I did and threw her arms around my neck, raining kisses on my cheek. I carried her like she was my bride over the threshold to the master bedroom.

I fucked her hard. I fucked her soft. I fucked her silly. I pleasured her orally. She did the same for me. I grew an extra cock so I could DP her all by myself. I turned into a centaur and ravaged her with a cock twice as large as the largest I'd ever let mine get.

For a time, we moved to the jacuzzi. There, Mom turned into a mermaid and gave me a killer blowjob, her head fully submersed underwater the entire time.

It seemed I'd never get over the simple beauty of stark color contrasts that her face offered. Her pale skin, deep brown eyes, long lashes, thick brows, full lips, and lustrous black hair made for a killer combination. And her makeup exaggerated the effect.

I wished I could slow down time. Having remembered a trick I'd learned from Iva, I managed to have hands everywhere without actually having more than two arms. Hardly a second went by that I wasn't simultaneously groping Mom's fat ass and huge breasts while holding her hips, shoulders and ankles, caressing her thighs and calves, and running my fingers through her soft, thick hair.

Similarly, when I went down on her, my tongues were deep inside her, caressing her labia, giving her a rimjob, and flicking her clitoris, all at once.

And she performed similar feats. Not to the same degree, but that was fine with me.

Our efforts took a lot of energy. But we were feeding off one another constantly, more than making up for what we expended.

After several hours, we finally took a more than two minute break. "Think maybe we should eat something at some point?" Mom asked.

I nodded.

"I'll go see what I can whip up," she said.

I grabbed her wrist. "No. I've got a better idea."

She raised an eyebrow. "Should I put some clothes on?"

"Probably."

So she waved her hands in front of her body, and an instant later, she wore a long, red dress that clung to her hips tightly enough to be flattering but fit quite loosely from there down. The dress also had a form-fitting bodice that pressed her breasts together so tightly as to create a veritable canyon of cleavage, but which also covered them up enough to count as decent. For good measure, she wore a black shawl on top.

I changed into khakis, a plain white silk t-shirt, and a blue blazer.

I offered her my arm. She smiled warmly as she took it.

We stepped out onto the balcony and before our very eyes, the world around us reshaped itself. The cliff and sea beneath us remained, but the balcony grew and grew and empty tables popped up all around us. We were suddenly seated at an exclusive gourmet restaurant, situated on the top of a cliff.

Mom laughed, clapping her hands. "Delightful, dear."

A waiter came by to drop off the menus and take our drink order. While we had him, I ordered a cheese board in addition to two glasses of their finest merlot. After deciding on our orders, we laid the menus down and held hands until our wine arrived. We hardly spoke. Just sat there, staring into one another's eyes, smiling. The waiter graciously showed no reaction to our egregious mooning. Not so much as a passive-aggressive throat-clearing.

After ordering for both myself and Mom, I turned back to her and asked, "So how long do you figure Brianna will last on the throne?"

She frowned.

"What?"

"Don't get my hopes up. If you're going to come back to me, it will be because you did as she instructed and she invited you to return."

I sipped my wine slowly. Should I tell her that was a false hope?

"Don't look at me like that," she said. "I'm just trying to be realistic. When she first ascended to the throne, I thought she wouldn't last long. Wasn't cold-hearted enough. Overconfident, na\"{ive, inexperienced, and so forth. But she's sure making a show of proving me wrong. Me, and many others."

"Okay," I said.

"Oh, baby. I would love to say I thought she won't last a month. You've got to know that. Don't you think I've dreamed of the day that you yourself overthrew her?"

I grinned faintly. "Yeah?"

She gave me a cute puppy-dog face and nodded emphatically. "And," she added, in a breathy voice that simply exuded sex, "maybe you'd ask me to be your Shadow afterwards?"

I laughed. "Maybe. Just maybe."

She frowned.

I reached across the table and stroked the back of her hand. "Oh, you know I'm kidding. Who else would I ask? It's the idea of me being king that I'm maybe-ing."

"P-shaw," Mom said with a wave of her other hand. "My baby was born to be king. I always knew that. And I'd hoped I could keep you away from politics, but in my heart of hearts, I always knew I couldn't."

"That's nice, but I'm not even sure I want that. For a while I thought I did. But the more I learn, the more I think I'd be happy to stay out of it." I thought about clarifying that I might not mind if someone else, like Iva, replaced Brianna. But who knew if she was eavesdropping on us at that moment. I should have thought of that a few minutes ago. But the least I could do was go on the record as swearing that I had no interest in the throne now, while I had the chance.

Mom smiled wistfully, cupping her chin in her hand. "You say that now."

I shuddered at the memory of the last time a woman had said that to me. "Seriously."

Speak of the devil, just as the waiter delivered our cheese board, Brianna appeared from behind him. "Fancy meeting you here!" she said, gesturing with one hand, palm up. "What are the odds?" She reached for a chair from a nearby table, stopped, looked over her shoulder, and asked, "You guys don't mind if I join you, do you?"

"Of course not, your majesty," I said.

Mom mumbled her agreement.

She snatched up a cube of cheese and plopped it in her pretty little mouth. The moans she made as she bit into the cheese got my blood flowing.

My cousin wore the skimpiest little black cocktail dress you ever did see. Her legs, long and sleek, were left bare save for the straps of her heels reaching halfway up her calves.

Her exquisite hair was tied up by a black silk ribbon. One loose lock of hair fell down her forehead, dangling just in front of a bright green eye. And just then, by coincidence no doubt, a breeze picked up and carried me a whiff of her sweet perfume.

I shuddered.

It was absolutely unfair for a woman to be so attractive.

Mom was trying not to look at either me or Brianna, a slight grimace contorting her lips. I wanted to explain that it wasn't my fault, that Brianna was laying it on thick. Nothing could have hurt me more than seeing the way I hurt my mother just then. And not being able to explain to her that it wasn't my fault. Brianna was just too powerful.

Well, okay, I could imagine some pretty painful things if I thought about it. And it wasn't hard to imagine Brianna being the one doing them. But still.

The waiter came back and took Brianna's drink and dinner orders. While she was ordering, I reached across the table and took Mom's hand in mine. I wanted to reassure her more explicitly, but it was all I dared to do in front of Brianna.

"So," my cousin said, slapping her hands on the table. "I hope I'm not interrupting a nice romantic evening for two."

I looked at her flatly. Couldn't even bring myself to suck up to her this time.

She laughed heartily, draping a hand languidly over her chest. "Oh, listen to me. What a silly question. Of course I am. I just hope you're in the mood for a threesome. Because I'd love to join you after dinner."

"Of course, my liege," Mom said, forcing a smile that wasn't fooling anyone. Especially with the gritted teeth that lay behind it.

"Geez, did somebody die?" Brianna asked. "Ordinarily, when I offer to go home with a couple, I get something of a different reaction."

"Well, ordinarily, we'd be ecstatic. And we'd still love to have you join us. If we seem a little reluctant, it's just because I'm going away tomorrow, and this is our last night together. You see, the queen, God bless her and keep her, has decided to send me away."

Brianna smiled. "Well, I guess that does explain it. You must have done something to make her take such a drastic move, what with you being her cousin and all. I hear she's very fair. No one accuses her of being soft, not anymore, but no one has ever seen her lift a finger against anyone who was loyal to her."

"I suppose," I said.

Brie laid a hand on my forearm. The arm that was stretched across the table, holding Mom's hand. She looked me in the eye, gaze unwavering. "Well, if you'd like to be left alone, I can go." Turning to look at my mother, she added, "No hard feelings."

I looked Mom in the eye. Ever so gently, she shook her head. Then she turned to her niece. "Don't be silly. Of course you should stay."

"Oh, well, if you insist, dear."

We finished our meal hurriedly, keeping conversation to a minimum. Then I transformed the balcony back to the way it was, except for one detail. I summoned a sofa, its back to the outside wall of the cottage, and a coffee table. Then I sat down on the coffee table, gestured for Mom to sit next to me, and asked Brianna if she'd give us one of her famous little shows.

It didn't take a minute before Mom was breathing heavy, her nipples visibly hardened. To say nothing of the metaphysical signs of her arousal.

Brianna might or might not be as sensitive to the latter as I was, but one way or another, it had to be obvious that her dancing was having an effect on the both of us.

Which was only to be expected. Even when she wasn't pouring a river of energy into projecting a powerful glamor, Brianna was damn hot, and was an absolute terror on the dance floor. Her hips were weapons of mass seduction.

After a while, Brie slowly slipped out of her dress and kicked it over the balcony. She then gave my mother a killer lap dance. I slipped back to the sofa, giving Brianna more room. She took that opportunity to lay my mother down on her back and sit on her face. The queen pulled her G-string aside to expose her lips to my mother's hungry eyes. Then she reached back and gave her tight little ass a firm slap. It hardly responded.

But I still convulsed in ecstasy. And I heard Mom gasp, despite the fact that she couldn't even see Brianna's ass from where she was.

My cock was in my hands a moment later.

Brianna pulled Mom up off the table, out onto the makeshift dance floor. Mom's movements were awkward, shy. But she gradually loosened up, and her clothes began to disappear. When Mom started to relax, started really shaking her ass while Brianna gave it a series of playful slaps, I completely lost it. Jet after jet of my hot cum shot onto the coffee table.

My cousin quickly dropped to her haunches and licked it up. I moaned to myself as she did. She stared up at me through a fan of thick lashes, knowing what effect it had on me to watch her lap up my cum so hungrily.

She then laid my mother back on the table again and without further ado went to town on her. Mom started spasming in ecstasy immediately.

Instant orgasm. Fucking hell.

Naturally, she kept going. Much as I'd done earlier, her hands were everywhere. But she also busted out a trick I'd not considered before. Mouths grew in the palms of her hands. It was freaky to look at, but as she sucked on my mothers breasts, tugging at her nipples gently with the lips in her hands, all while her head was still buried between Mom's soft thighs, I found myself getting close to the breaking point again.