Homelands Pt. 07 Ch. 03

"Oh, come on, baby," his mother cooed. Her soft ass wiggled against his crotch, inviting him to set the question aside and worry about more important things. "You don't want to know the answer to that, do you? Truly?"

Cahill hesitated. They'd passed the phase where neither of them could so much as get a few words out, so desperate were they to get back to making love. That didn't mean their desire for another was fading. Not much, at least. But his mother had been willing enough to answer his other questions. To explain to him that his nightly journeys hadn't been to Faerie but a place in between that she'd constructed precisely for the purpose of seducing him away from the Dreaming. That though the fey were forbidden from reentering that world, they weren't strictly bound to Faerie. That they'd found a way to stretch that rule without breaking it, as they did all rules.

She'd also been happy enough to tell him why it was important that they take on new forms when they arrived in Faerie. That mortals sometimes found their way here, and if the creatures they encountered in Faerie didn't match their expectations, the childlike wonder they exhibited at first would give way to clear, even critical, thinking. And that would send them on their way before the fey had a chance to have a little fun with them. He was free to dismiss his antlers and shed some of his fur, to allow his body return to its ordinary size and shape, any time he pleased, but it was best not to do so too often, just in case.

It wasn't an overwhelming need to get back to it that led her to dodge his question then.

Still, he did not relent.

"Please," he said. His lips brushed her shoulder lightly. "I don't care what the answer is." Another kiss, lingering this time. "I just want to know."

His mother sighed.

"When you were new to this world," he said, steering the conversation away from the here and now. Perhaps she was afraid to answer because she feared that he was asking, in a roundabout way, how she felt about him. Perhaps he was, but he'd have been glad just to know that she was capable of the emotion. That he wasn't the only one struggling with the injunction. "Did you have trouble adjusting to the ways of our kind?"

Caronwyn rolled over, facing him. She pressed a soft palm to his face. The look on her face would have been suitable for telling him not to be too bummed out about getting dumped, that he'd meet the right girl one day. "Of course I did, honey. We all do."

"Yeah?"

She nodded.

"So," he said. "Who was it? Your father?"

His mother shook her head.

Of course it wasn't. Most fey never met their fathers. Or if they did, they found that their fathers did not think of them as family. Rare indeed was the daughter who tempted a man of the fey away from his own clan. If ever there was a woman beautiful enough, desirable enough, kind and caring and charming enough, it was Caronwyn. But even so, it didn't shock Cahill to hear that his mother hadn't fallen in love with her father.

"My older brother," she said. "Richard. We all called him Dick or Dickie."

That he had an uncle came as news to Cahill. "What happened?"

He had to have felt the same. What man could possibly resist her? If the tale lacked a happy ending, as it evidently did, that couldn't possibly be the explanation.

"He married a woman from another court and moved away."

"Do you ever see him anymore?" Cahill asked, his heart racing.

What if this Uncle Dick was still around? Would he even want to meet him? Could he handle that, knowing that his mother felt for the man what Cahill wished she'd feel for him? The temptation to compare himself to his uncle, to envy him, would be unbearable. But at the same time, part of him relished the idea of meeting a man worthy of his mother's love, if only so that he could better learn what it took to earn that.

"Nooo," she said, voice trailing off. "He...he's...."

"Dead?" Cahill asked, sparing her the need to say it.

Caronwyn nodded. "Died in another land. Claimed by a feud over some foreign throne." She choked up a bit before continuing. "He left some children behind. Can you believe that? I've several nieces I've never met. They've got children of their own by now, no doubt."

How long ago could this have been that she was sure of that?

"I can't say I blame him," his mother added. "You should have seen her, Kay. Noreen was so beautiful. I almost fell for her myself."

Though their kind were open to most every form of sexuality, he knew his mother's tongue was firmly in cheek as she said that last part. She sometimes made love to her daughter or to her sister, especially when she was sharing them with one of the Walker men, but he didn't think her capable of falling in love with another woman. It was not unheard of for their kind to do so, but it was relatively rare, and Caronwyn had never given him any indication that she was one of the few with that predilection.

"She'd been around for centuries, and it showed. Power rolled off her in waves. Yet she had this strange humility to her. Like she didn't want anyone to notice how beautiful she was, or how powerful. Just wanted people to like her for who she was. There wasn't a proud bone in that woman's body."

Sounded familiar.

"When he left for Autumn, I thought I might die," the red goddess said.

Cahill didn't know what to say. He'd thought that he wouldn't mind hearing his mother talk that way about another man, but he'd been a fool to believe that. It was good to know that she was capable of falling in love, or had been at one time, but the sadness in her voice felt like a knife in his belly. And not just because he hated seeing his mother unhappy.

"See?" she said with a bitter laugh. "Told ya you didn't want to know."

He smoothed beautiful hair away from his mother's face before planting a kiss on her forehead. The situation called for more of a response than that, but he had no more to offer.

A faint smile spread across Caronwyn's beautiful lips.

"Do you want to know what he was like?" she asked, jokingly.

"Of course," Cahill replied.

He felt numb. What came next might be difficult to hear. Very, very difficult. But he couldn't help himself. He had to know.

"Really?" his mother asked.

The trail of kisses began at her forehead but ended with her soft lips. He heard her breath catch just before he reached his final destination.

Why did it feel so much like it was mutual whenever they were together? Could it really be nothing more than wishful thinking on his part?

"He wasn't that tall," his mother said, voice surprisingly calm now. "Shorter than Gallech even," she added, leaving the "let alone you" that should have come next unsaid. "He had these beautiful gray eyes, a red beard that didn't match his dark brown hair, and a body like...well, he was shorter than Gallech, but he probably weighed a good ten pounds more, and very precious little of that weight came from fat."

Cahill tried not to feel too jealous over the way his mother's Libido had swelled for a moment there as she described his uncle's appearance. His oldest brother was incredibly well-built. Gallech weighed less than Cahill, but mostly just because he was a good five inches shorter. Though he had the face of a pretty boy, looking even more like a mythical elf than the rest of their kind, Gallech had a body that any man could envy.

Any man except their uncle, apparently.

"Sorry, baby," his mother said, her Libido settling back down.

"Quite okay," he forced himself to say. He had asked for it, after all.

He'd told himself that his mother didn't like her guys too bulky. That Gallech would never appeal to their mother as much as Cahill did because he was built too much like a tank. Though five inches shorter than Cahill, he couldn't have weighed more than ten pounds less. Put differently, he was four inches shorter than Seamus, yet thirty pounds heavier. And all of that was muscle. Too much muscle.

Or so Cahill wanted to believe.

"Anyway, it's not like it would have been all that different if he'd never left," his mother said. She slid a foot up and down his calf, as if to signal that he shouldn't read too much into any of this. That he should keep in mind that the past was the past, and he was the one in her bed just then for a reason. "He was besotted with our mother."

"There's a word you don't hear every day," Cahill said.

His mother smiled. "Your grandmother felt the same way about him too. Seeing Dick go was harder on her than me, I think. Harder maybe even than losing the throne and being exiled, though I haven't had the chance to ask her how that turned out."

"Say what?"

"Haven't I told you that Grandma Aeife was queen for a time?"

"No," he said. "Think I'd remember that."

"With you, who knows," his mother said, a playful grin on her face. She kissed his chest by way of apology before continuing. "No one else ever kept Titania off the throne as long as Mom did. But all good things, I suppose."

"Is she still alive?"

"So far as I know. Haven't seen her since before you were born though."

He remembered Liadan telling him that Titania disliked his clan more so than even the other bigger clans. That she'd ordered two of her sons to take Walker women to wife so that the Dreamsmyths could keep an eye on the Walkers. Now he understood why.

Cahill drew a deep breath. It was a lot to take in at once.

"Feeling a little overwhelmed?" his mother asked.

He nodded.

"Let's finish filling in the family tree some other time then, huh?"

Cahill kissed his mother by way of response. Long and deep.

Next thing he knew, he was lying flat on his back and she was riding him cowgirl. Just the way he liked it. With her on top, he could look her in the eyes while playing with her breasts or suck on her perfect nipples while fondling her ass. And she could set the pace for herself. That was never a bad thing, but he appreciated that aspect all the more when he was with his mother, since he still hadn't quite figured out what she liked. It was easy to tell with Oona and Fiona, since those two always wanted the same thing. Oona liked it a little rough while Fiona was just the opposite. His mother sometimes seemed to want him to dominate her, while other times seemed to share Fiona's tastes.

Which wouldn't have been so bad, except he felt that she expected him to know instinctively which she was in the mood for at any given time. Perhaps if he got better at reading Libidos, someday he'd be able to do so. But until then, he got by on guesswork.

That, and letting her set the pace.

Just now, for example, she was apparently in one of her wild moods. He hadn't realized it, but his antlers had made a return. And his mother was holding on to them like handles as she rode him furiously. Her hips moved faster than he thought was possible as she impaled herself repeatedly on his monster cock. He was alternately squeezing and slapping her fat ass, biting down gently on her nipples as he did. Not only didn't she mind, but he suspected that she'd have been okay with him biting and slapping harder still.

"That's it, that's it," she said. "Don't hold back, baby."

She never said that she wanted it harder. But there were only so many ways to interpret her telling him not to hold back.

After pumping himself up a bit, and despite some lingering reluctance, he stepped things up. Gave it to her as hard as he dared.

"Oh, fuck, yes," his mother panted. "Make Mommy your bitch!"

That struck a chord.

And not entirely in a bad way.

Cahill needed his mother to need him as badly as he did her. If that was what she wanted, that was what she'd get.

He grabbed her and rolled her off him. She resisted, but it was just for show, he sensed. The reaction inside her Libido was the very opposite of the one her body offered. Cahill wrestled her down to all fours and climbed into position behind her.

"This what you want?" he asked, giving her ass a hard slap with one hand while the other lined his huge cock up to penetrate her tight pussy. "You like this?"

She mumbled something like a response.

He forced his way inside. Though she was already loosened up, it took some effort. With every inch that disappeared inside her, she let out new and interesting sounds. Hisses followed whimpers, moans gave way to sighs, curses became compliments. Cahill pressed down on the back of her head, pushing her face into the pillow, effectively silencing her. That only turned her on more.

It had a similar effect on him.

All in all, Cahill preferred sex soft and sensual. But nothing turned him on more than seeing his mother enjoy herself. And she liked this. A lot. Not necessarily more than she liked being seduced painstakingly, he didn't think. If nothing else, though, she was a bigger believer in variety being the spice of life than either Oona or Fiona were.

"Give me that pussy," Cahill grunted as he slammed into his mother over and over again, fucking her harder than he'd ever dare fuck her daughter. "I've got to have it."

"Mmm, Mommy's little boy takes what he wants," Caronwyn whimpered. Her insides spasmed around him as she drew ever closer to orgasm. "Doesn't he?"

"That's fucking right," he said, pumping faster and faster without compromising the depth or force of his strokes in the least.

He could feel the energy draining from his Libido, but he dare not let up. She wanted everything he had, and she was going to get it.

The sight of his mother's great white ass rippling as her hips rushed back to meet his every thrust, ensuring that they'd meet with even greater impact, hypnotized him. As did the way her slender waist flared out into broad hips and the look of her dark hair plastered to her back. Nothing could be sexier than the sight of his mother surrendering completely to the pleasures of the flesh. And she was doing just that now. She was like a woman possessed. Nothing would stop her from reaching her orgasm. Nothing.

All of a sudden, he felt a rush of ecstasy. He wasn't sure if it was entirely supernatural or just that his mother had amplified his penis' sensitivity, but one way or another, Cahill felt more pleasure in that instant than ever before. It was crippling, yet he wouldn't have asked her to stop even if he could gather enough breath to do so.

Mother and son reached orgasm together.

As her womb gripped him tight, milking him slowly and surely with every little spasm, his balls pumped hot cum inside her. More and more, until it dribbled out of her and down his sac. Still, he kept right on ejaculating.

When at last Caronwyn decided that she'd drained him well enough, she collapsed flat on her stomach. Cahill gasped as he slipped out of her warm hole and plopped down beside her on the bed, lungs pumping like bellows.

Apparently his antlers had gone spectral again.

"How...was that?" she asked, fighting for air herself.

He gave her ass a firm smack. That was the only reply he had energy enough to provide.

His mother smiled.

The aftereffects lingered for a long time. Cahill felt an intense euphoria. He was weightless and light-headed, and he couldn't stop smiling. Neither could his mother, who he assumed was feeling every bit as good as he was. They held each other's hands and stared into each other's eyes, giggling like children.

It wasn't just him.

It couldn't be.

He didn't know why she wanted him to believe that she wasn't as interested in him as Oona was, but it simply couldn't be true. He refused to countenance the idea any further.

Yet he also refused to ask her to confirm it. Because part of him still feared the truth. Maybe she didn't care for Gallech more than him, despite his thicker muscles. Maybe he actually was her favorite son. But that didn't necessarily mean that she was in love.

And if she wasn't, he couldn't bear to hear it.

Their breathing slowly returned to normal, and goofy smiles gave way to clumsy kisses. Clumsy kisses gave way to locked lips and fumbling hands. When his mother reached between his legs and started to guide him back inside her, though, he pulled away.

"Something wrong, baby?" she asked.

"Not at all," he said. "Quite the opposite."

The druidess smiled at him as he set about performing a sacred ritual of his own devising. Though she wanted his dick, he wanted her everything. So Cahill took his sweet time making love to all of her. He used his powers to sensitize moderately erogenous parts of her body, such as her hips and feet and inside her wrists. His mother experienced one climax after another, long before he made his way between her legs.

Getting her off by sucking on her wrists had felt strange. In the back of his mind, he'd been picturing countless scenes from bad vampire movies. But he got a huge rush out of knowing that his mother was going to climax, and seeing her eventually do so, while he pressed his mouth to that part of her.

The same went for her feet, and then some. Knowing that most people found feet unpleasant gave him an extra thrill. There was something kinky, depraved even, about the way he licked her rounded ankles, sucked her toes, and kissed the smooth parts of the bottoms of her feet the same as he did her tough callouses. The symbolism of it all, even with her flat on her back rather than him groveling before her, drove him crazy.

Most of all, he'd derived great pleasure from giving her an orgasm by playing with her hips. Those great symbols of her fertility demanded awe and respect. Making love to them excited him almost as much as doing the same for her breasts did.

When he arrived at the source of life, the tunnel through which he'd entered the world, Cahill slowed things down even further. He tortured his mother sweetly, teasing her with his mouth and fingers. His nose enjoyed her smell, his tongue her taste, and his eyes her beauty. Though he was pleasuring her, Cahill intended to enjoy every second of it, even if that meant making her suffer. Even if she begged and pleaded.

Which she did.

A lot.

But her pleas fell on deaf ears. Cahill could not get enough of his mother's beautiful pussy, and he refused to rush things.

When she burst into climax earlier than he'd anticipated, he just pretended not to notice and kept right on going. His mother squirmed wildly, trying to escape the onslaught. But he held her in place, knowing that she would be glad that he did.

His tongue flicked back and forth against her large clitoris and his fingers applied steady pulsating pressure against her G-spot, testing the limits of her senses. Just as he thought he might push things too far, he eased up. His fingers left the spongy area above her opening and swept her womb gently. His tongue moved slowly, lightly, up and down her labia, avoiding the deep red love button. When he felt her Libido settle down a little, he dialed things back up to ten, even though her body was still sending signals that it was overstimulated.

"Oh, oh, fuck, Kay," his mother grunted. Soon enough, though, she lost the ability to form coherent words. Indistinct sounds escaped her throat. "Mmmph, ungh, mmm," she whimpered and moaned as he ran his tongue in circles around her clit.

When at last he allowed his mother the release she craved, she opened up as she had never before. He was almost wiped away by the tidal wave of energy she unleashed.

#

To Cahill, it seemed that no more than a few hours had gone by since he'd first arrived. But every hour in Faerie was nearly a full day in the Dreaming, so it perhaps shouldn't have surprised him to learn that his younger sister had visited the Shadow Faerie four times while his mother threw him a private welcoming party.

Shortly after his mother had finally dropped the barrier that separated them from the rest of Faerie, Oona had come to her older sister with an idea to address the problem. To inform Caronwyn that the recent trend of Brittany slipping further and further away from them, after having seemed not long ago to be on the verge of waking up, continued unabated.