Homelands Pt. 04 Ch. 05

Gabriela couldn't help but admire her daughter's sense of optimism and belief in the inherent goodness of people. But if she felt bad about not doing enough to prepare Eric for the cutthroat world that awaited them, she'd obviously failed miserably with Patty.

She wasn't sure what exactly she'd done wrong to give Patty such a view of the world. But she knew that it was her responsibility to disabuse the girl of such childish notions before allowing her to set foot in Summer.

"With all due respect," Eric said.

Gabriela smirked at him.

That was her son. He had no clue what it meant to be king. Had never even laid eyes on the court. Yet he was already prepared to declare himself more fit for rule than his cousin.

It was precisely that mentality that had her thinking he might sit the throne someday.

"Didn't mean anything by it, dear," Gabriela said, stroking her son some more.

"We're just thinking out loud," her brother added. Then, obviously more for her benefit, he added, "I'm not even saying I've got a problem with House Bravo, or with Phil. Far as I'm concerned, better that than House Fisher."

"No complaints here," Gabriela said.

The thought of having to kiss Hank's feet made her skin crawl.

"But why shouldn't House Moody have a turn?" Eric asked. "Even if this Phil guy isn't so bad. Which, by the way, forgive me for being a bit confused about. Weren't you both just saying on the drive over here what an asshole he is, and how important it is that Liv and I be on our best behavior during the induction ceremony to keep from pissing him off?"

"It's complicated," Gabriela said.

"He is an asshole," Wes said. "Just less of an asshole than some. You'll learn to distinguish between several different grades of asshole if you spend enough time in Summer."

Eric snickered at that.

What Gabriela wanted to say, but knew that she shouldn't, was that her son was right to be thinking such thoughts. Not because they were entitled to it though. But because the only way to guarantee the safety and security of your family was to amass so much power that all the other families feared you. Short of that, the second best path was to ensure that those who were in charge neither saw you as weak enough to gobble up nor rising rapidly enough to encourage them to take you out before it was too late.

House Moody fit neither of those descriptions.

They were a once great house, but were currently weak. Probably weak enough to present an easy target. And, worst of all, they were on the path to reclaiming their past glory.

At least, she knew that was what she would think, if were she a Bravo or a Fisher. With only seven members, and some of them obviously weak or timid, House Moody still wasn't much of a force to be reckoned with. But only a fool would wait until they were. After all, not so long ago, there were only two of them. Seven wasn't so much, as such things went. The average house had at least ten members. But seven was still a whole lot more than two.

She'd have to think more about that later though.

Eric had decided that his uncle's explanation was good enough, and had thus lost all remaining interest in the discussion. He'd gone and knelt before her and was fingering her vigorously, staring intently into her eyes as he did.

"Baby, Mommy's all ready for you. Let's skip the foreplay."

"Who said you were getting any to begin with?"

Wes chuckled. "Boy knows what he wants."

That he did.

And if they both did, she'd have been in heaven. But she'd take what she could get.

"You too enjoy yourselves. I'm gonna go see what kinda trouble my daughter's getting herself into," Wes said. He planted a kiss on Gabriela's forehead, then slipped out of bed. Suddenly, he reached over and gave Eric's bare ass a firm slap, muttering, "Show her how it's done, killer," as he did, before leaving the two of them alone.

"Thank god," Eric said. "Thought he'd never leave."

Gabriela laughed harder than she should have.

And then purred at her son as he climbed atop her.

Big wasn't the word for her Eric. His dick would put many a horse to shame. Well, not really, of course. That much size would have hurt, unless she took special care to supernaturally adjust her body. He might not have been the size of a horse, but he filled her up right. It felt like he was sliding home. Like her womb was shaped perfectly for him, and him alone. It remembered him, and it welcomed him back eagerly.

Being able to stare up into those cold, blue eyes, to hold him close to her, feel his body pressed against her, was all kinds of perfect. She could see the sweat bead on his brow. The vein pulsing in his forehead. Could savor the way he tried to make it seem like he was barely even trying, though she knew that it took everything he had to delay his climax.

And of course it did. She was giving as good as she got, after all. And her little man was giving it to her what good.

"Go ahead, baby," she whispered. "Cum for Mommy. I want your seed inside me."

His eyes bulged at her words.

Did he think she'd meant that a different way? Literally wanted him to plant a seed inside her? And let it grow?

Well, if it had sounded that way to him, that might not have been entirely by accident.

She wouldn't cross that line, of course. There was no surer way to draw an attack from the Fishers or the Bravos. But she definitely had dreamed of having her baby boy give her another baby boy. Had tried to picture what their child might look like. Had wondered if he'd be tall, like her and Eric, or short, like Patty and Gabriela's late mother. Whether her and Eric's child would have blonde hair and blue eyes like every other Moody.

That was all just fantasizing though.

She knew better than to seriously contemplate inbreeding. That was the only taboo left in the Homelands. And it was one that was taken seriously.

"God, you're so tight," Eric said.

If he'd have her any other way, she could just as easily be looser. He and the other kids were beginning to understand that, but they hadn't yet really internalized just how malleable every part of their body could be.

But, of course, she knew he hadn't meant it as a criticism.

In fact, she contracted her inner muscles against him tighter still, and grinned as he gasped for air. His mouth formed an O and his eyelids fluttered. Then he started slamming into her harder and harder, a look of wolfish hunger on his face.

That was what she liked to see.

Nothing made her feel more beautiful, more desirable, more alive, than seeing that look on her son's face. All the stupid little girls chased after him, throwing themselves at him while somehow still thinking themselves teases. He could have any woman he wanted. Young or old. Rich or poor. Famous or ordinary.

Yet he had eyes only for her.

"Give it to me, baby," Gabriela whispered.

As she did, she squeezed her son's buttocks. They were so hard. Like steel. He could flatten pennies with those babies. Turn lumps of coal into diamonds.

Or, you know, drive his young, hard cock into her all night long.

Everything about him was hard. Not just his butt and his cock. His arms, his chest, his back, his legs. His every muscle was sculpted from stone, by a master artist. No, better than that. No artist could manage that level of definition. He was ripped. Strong, sleek and smooth. An absolute god. He had the tiniest little waist she'd ever seen on a guy, yet shoulders as wide as a tree was tall.

Wes was a handsome man, with a very nice body. So was Nick. Hank even had been, in a way. His face was a little less pleasing, but he had an arresting gaze and beautiful eyes.

But none of those men, not a one, could compare to Eric.

No man could, living or dead. Not her late father, nor her poor older brother. No one.

Eric started pumping harder and faster. Drilling deeper. Filling her like no man could.

"Cum for me," she said. "Pump your mother full of your spunk. Make her a woman."

"Oh, fuck," he groaned.

She could feel it. His balls were spasming. His Libido was ready to burst.

And there it was.

The warm fluid sprayed inside her.

It was a sensation she'd never quite get used to. Every time, it felt like the first time. At least, with Eric, it did. It was strange, and awkward, and beautiful. The power to make a new life was swimming about inside her. All she had to do was accept it. Choose to open herself up. Pour some energy into her womb.

It would be so easy.

Like she had so many times before, though, she chose not to.

Eric slowly slid out of her. He was, as ever, still hard as a rock. And his smooth length was glistening with the juices of their lovemaking.

For the briefest instant after he pulled out, she saw the slick film of cum and other secretions glimmer. All the colors of the rainbow flashed, briefly, before her eyes.

She sighed as the effect faded.

Their lovemaking was, literally, magical. How many women could say that of their lovers?

Still crouched over her, Eric wiped a stray lock of hair from her face. Staring into her eyes, he said, "You're so beautiful, Mom."

The air went out of her lungs.

If she hadn't just heard him say those words, she'd have sworn that such a sentence would never come out of her son's mouth. Not her macho Eric, unsentimental as he was. Besides that, he hadn't even sworn. Not that she minded how often her son cursed. She'd tried and tried and tried to get him to be less vulgar when he was a teenager. For all the good it had done. But at this point, she'd pretty much gotten used to it. The sudden lack of profanity left her as dumbstruck as the thought he'd so respectfully conveyed.

Eric had told her that she was "beautiful."

Not "hot."

Not "sexy."

But "beautiful."

Not that she minded thinking of herself as hot or sexy. Those were good things too. But hearing something so sweet from his lips left her stunned.

"Thank you, honey," she finally managed to say.

He kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose.

"You have these gorgeous, big, blue eyes. And perfect bronze skin. Long lashes and full brows. High cheekbones, a slender nose, and a delicate chin. Luscious lips. Hair like spun gold. Lately, I can't sleep at night, because when I close my eyes, all I see is you, and the last thing on my mind then is sleep."

Was this a dream? When had Eric acquired something very much like eloquence?

Rather than spoil the moment, though, she simply planted a kiss on his lips.

"And these huge fucking tits," he said, giving one a light tap.

So much for eloquent.

"That tiny little waist, and that huge fucking ass. Unfuckingreal."

She smiled in spite of herself. Not exactly the words a woman fantasized about hearing, but, in her son's language, that passed for a compliment. A fairly strong one, in fact.

"Speaking of," he said, kneeling back. "I want to stare at that ass. Let's do doggy."

"Well, since you put it like that," she said, giving his nose a tweak.

Still, without protest, she got into position. Every bit of her was filled with anticipation. Her Libido was as close to humming as something that didn't physically exist could be.

For a change, he entered her slowly. Teasingly. That smooth head of his pushed past her folds, then pulled back out, making her whimper. He did that a half dozen times before letting so much as a few inches disappear inside her. A few more strokes, each one bringing her perilously close to premature climax, then he finally shoved it all the way inside her.

She collapsed forward, resting her face on her forearms. "Ungh. God. You are really something else, honey."

"You ain't seen nothin' yet," he said, giving her ass a firm slap.

"Mmm. Is that so?" she asked, giving her hips a wiggle.

Sure enough, it only took him a half dozen strokes to have her cumming her brains out.

As she approached her third orgasm, she sensed that he was getting close to another himself, so she pulled her legs together suddenly, turning her tight womb into a pleasure cave her son could not escape. He wouldn't be able to get back out if he wanted to.

Which she couldn't imagine he did.

He leaned forward and took hold of her breasts while furiously pumping back and forth. He didn't pull out. Just built up some delicious friction.

Soon, the both of them achieved climax. And, once more, her son ejaculated inside her.

They cuddled the rest of the time until they arrive on Summer's shore.

########################

Scene 6

Setting: Aboard a yacht, in transit to the Homelands. The same day as the events in Chapter 4.

POV: Kurt

#########################

"Is that it?" Kurt asked his father.

"Sure is."

At the moment, all Kurt could see was a spot where the inky nothingness turned into blue water. If he squinted real hard, he could tell that there were some islands in the sea, but they were pretty flat. No volcanoes or mountains or skyscrapers or anything else stabbing the sky. At least not that he could see from here.

All in all, nothing to be impressed with. So far.

"Nervous?" his father asked.

Kurt shrugged. "Think I'm too confused for that."

His father laughed and clapped him on the back. "Good answer."

"Can I ask you about something else?" Kurt asked, lowering his voice.

His father lowered his voice as well. "Yeah. What is it?"

"It's about... Mom."

If his father hadn't joined in, he'd probably still be in his mother's clutches. Hers and his sister's. And too aroused to even think about trying to get away. Only after his father wore Olivia out then inadvertently helped him do the same to their mother did Kurt finally get the chance to crawl out of bed.

It seemed so strange, to think of such a blessing in those terms. He'd fantasized about his mother for so long. And here he was, with a mother who was even more beautiful than he realize, and completely incapable of satisfying her hunger for his dick. He should have been grateful. Should be drunk on the ego trip, frankly. As he indeed had been, at first.

But recently had he begun to find it all rather stifling. Began wishing he had the power to extract himself from his mother long enough to pursue Patty.

She might not be as conventionally beautiful as his mother. Nor did she have the kind of body that most guys would compare favorably with his mother's. But in Kurt's eyes, she was more than attractive enough. And he got this feeling whenever he was around her, whenever he spoke to her, that no other woman made him feel.

Usually, he was either completely calm or a nervous wreck. The former was usually a sign that he wasn't the least bit attracted to the girl. The latter was so crippling that it didn't matter how attracted he was, it was never going to go anywhere.

Not so with Patty. He was nervous around her, yes. But it wasn't debilitating. He felt comfortable around her. He'd known her his whole life. And even though it was like they were all discovering each other again, for the first time, now that they knew who and what they were, it wasn't really as bad as starting from scratch.

Besides, he knew that Patty liked him too.

If he could just slip away from his mother a little more often!

"Wait, lemme guess," his father said, leaning closer. "A bit smothering, is she?"

Kurt let out a massive sigh of relief.

His father laid a finger against the side of his nose.

"You see it too, then?"

Not a father-son talk he'd ever expected to have, but it was nice to finally be able to discuss his concerns somewhat openly.

"Had't really noticed until you said something, but, yeah. Now that you mention it. She does come on a little strong. And she's always been a bit protective."

"Protective?" Kurt asked, with a nervous chuckle.

"Okay, okay. I get it."

"Yeah," Kurt said.

"You want me to talk to her?"

"No!" Kurt said.

His father raised an eyebrow at him.

He studied his father's face for a moment. He hoped that when he was that age, he looked that good. His father was handsome, in a reassuring and lovable kind of way. At least, in Kurt's mind. His neatly trimmed beard gave him an authoritative look, but his easy smile and the twinkle in his blue-gray eyes suggested a certain warmth as well.

And yet, he had a body that Kurt envied. Despite being more than twice Kurt's age.

"I don't want you to say anything," Kurt continued. "If I had any guts, I'd say it myself. If you do it for me, it's going to make her feel like shit. And she shouldn't have to, since I haven't given her any indication that I'm any less interested in spending every minute of every day in bed with her than she is with me."

"So what you're asking is the best way to tell her that without hurting her feelings?"

Kurt nodded.

His father got it.

He always got it. He'd had friends who complained about their fathers. Kurt had almost felt guilty at certain points that he had so little cause to do so himself. When he'd been younger, more insecure, more desperate to fit in, he'd made up stories about what a jerk his father was, just so he wouldn't feel left out. But the truth was, his father was pretty close to perfect. He wasn't a strict disciplinarian, but he didn't let Kurt get away with stupid bullshit either. It was easy to see now, looking back, how it had always been in his best interests when his father forced him to do something he didn't want to do, or refused to let him do something he wanted to do. Even at the time, though, that hadn't been so hard to see. Because unlike some fathers, his never once said, "because I'm your father and I say so!" He explained himself, in terms Kurt could understand. And he listened to Kurt, and seriously considered what Kurt wanted before trying to force him to do something else.

"Just say what comes naturally to you," his father said. "I know that's not useful advice. But you're a smart, thoughtful young man. I trust your instincts. Sounds like what you really want is reassurance that it's okay for you to have that conversation with her at all. And it is. You want to choose your words carefully, but you already knew that. Give her a chance to overreact. Because she will, initially. But, eventually, she'll get it."

With a sigh, Kurt said, "You're right."

About all of it.

He really did just want some validation.

And he knew that his mother would be hurt, at first. But also that she'd ultimately accept what he was saying. It would not be the most pleasant experience of his life, but there was no secret wisdom for his father to impart about how best to approach it.

"Thanks, Dad."

"This about your sister?" Before Kurt could answer, he said, "No, no, must be Patty."

Kurt snickered. "You guessed it."

"This is the point where I'm supposed to tell you not to let yourself get too attached to anyone. But before I do, and I'm afraid I'd have my fathering license revoked if I didn't, let me just say that I understand why you'd be drawn to her."

The islands were getting closer. It was still clear that they were pretty flat, but he could make out distinct features of the landscape now. Sandy beaches, stony piers, tall trees with dense foliage, and gently rolling hills. They were beautiful, to be sure. But he expected something more exotic. More overtly supernatural. Like the emptiness they'd "sailed" through to reach them. From what he could see so far, the islands weren't all that different from what you saw on countless desktop wallpapers and gift shop postcards.

"I know. It's just sex. Developing stronger feelings for some members of the family than others is a recipe for disaster. Blah blah bl-"

"It's not just that," his father said. "That is the reason for what I'm about to say, but when we swear our vows later tonight, we're going to be agreeing to do something you all aren't going to like. Well, none of us will, really, but some of us have been through this before, and know what's coming."