Homelands Pt. 09 Ch. 05

"He may not recover for a while," Cahill told her. "Assuming you did for him anything like what you did for me." He took her hand and helped her stand. "I'd say it's your turn."

"Should hope so," Caronwyn said with a playful grin. "Pulled out all the stops."

"That you did," he said, turning to lay her down where he'd just sat.

His brother didn't stay out of commission as long as Cahill might have expected him to. He wasn't sure whether that should impress him or if it was a sign that his mother had shown him a little favoritism. But he was starting not to care. To wonder why he ever had.

She was his as surely as he was hers. Nothing could change that. If she wanted to share a little happiness, maybe even a lot of happiness, with her other son, why should that bother Cahill? The poor guy could use it, after losing the love of his life. Similarly, the very last thing he wanted was for Seamus to do a poor job pleasing their mother so that his own efforts might stand out more. Rather, he hoped Seamus gave as best he could. Helped Caronwyn set aside her sorrow and mourning, lifting her, if only for a time, to great heights.

Which he did.

Working so well together that Cahill almost believed they'd spent their entire lives preparing for the eventuality of their mother needing the two of them more than she'd ever needed anything, they seduced her from head to toe. Several times.

At times, they mirrored one another. Cahill would massage one foot while swirling his tongue around an ankles, and Seamus would do the same for other. Or they'd suck on opposite nipples, mouths moving in perfect tandem. Other times, they'd complement each other, one brother taking the lead while the other harmonized.

After coaxing orgasms out of her toes, ankles, and thighs, her hips, navel, and ribcage, her nipples, neck, and earlobes, they instructed her to roll onto her back. Then they repeated the process. The backs of her knees, her shoulder blades, even her arm pits became erogenous zones. Then they took turns performing analingus and cunnilingus, torturing her much the way she had them. Switching off abruptly, capping her Libido so she couldn't cum until they were good and ready to let her, and prolonging her final orgasms for several minutes each.

Cahill sort of wanted to start the whole process over again. No amount of worshipping her flawless form could ever be enough. From her big breasts to her tiny waist to her glorious hips and round ass, her long legs and pretty feet, she was absolutely stunning. And her strawberry taste was truly addictive. But he was starting to feel the need to be inside her, and did not doubt that she herself would soon demand some deep dicking. It was a wonder she'd been as patient as she had been up to that point.

"Titania's cunt hair, that was good," she said, propping herself up lazily with her elbows. One of the rare parts of her body her sons hadn't used to bring her to climax.

Seamus began, "That's-"

"-a new one," Cahill finished.

It was fitting enough, he supposed. But it still sounded more joke than a actual curse.

Their mother smiled. "All my...up there parts...busy."

Her sons crawled up beside her. As one, they cupped her heavy breasts, teased her perfect nipples with their fingers, and rained kisses on her neck, cheeks, and lips.

Each time his lips made fleeting contact with her, Cahill got a little rush. The woman was just incredible, and being allowed to touch her was a blessing. Even if he had to share.

Which wasn't even so bad. In fact, it was kinda fun.

Cahill wasn't sure he understood how they coordinated their activities so perfectly. He sometimes had trouble achieving that level of synchronicity when controlling two bodies with one mind. But it seemed only fitting somehow. And it made him feel as close to his brother as he had any desire to feel while the both of them were naked.

"Want to keep going?" Cahill asked.

"Or do you need a break?" Seamus added.

Their mother answered that by pushing her younger son onto his back.

Cahill laughed as she mounted him. Then gasped as her warm pussy enveloped him. She wasted no time in taking his full length all the way inside her, though she did pause to gather her wits once she reached the base. He'd nearly climaxed himself.

She hadn't supplemented the journey with any extra stimulus, as she so often did. Had even held her walls at bay as best she could, allowing her to slide down his pole quickly and smoothly. But it had still felt incredible. And the look of pure lust in her eyes, the intensity he felt inside her already engorged Libido, fueled his excitement even further.

Was there anything in all the world sexier than a mother's desire for her son?

Especially a mother as gorgeous as his?

Her eyes were so dark they were nearly black, her skin nearly as white as her teeth. That auburn hair was so beautiful it made his head spin. Her mouth was full and shapely, with the most cock-stiffening swell in the middle of her upper lip. Her nose was round and cute, like her chin. Her cheeks were high and proud. A few fortunate men throughout history had glimpsed true beauty, but none of them would believe their eyes if they ever saw Caronwyn.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're feeling kinda horny," he panted.

"A lit-"

Before she could finish, he thrust up into her, making her eyes roll back inside her head.

"Oh, you're bad," she panted afterwards. "In the best way."

Cahill gave her a few smaller, thrust, earning delightful whimpers.

"Seamus, baby, how would you like to fuck Mommy's ass?" she asked, her brown eyes still on Cahill. Her hips started working, if not too furiously, and she had her hands pressed firmly against Cahill's strong chest. "Please?"

"No," Cahill said.

"Fuck you," his mother said. "You're not pulling this shit. Not now."

"I know." His hands grabbed hers and squeezed tight. Another pair appeared, fondling her soft ass. And another, caressing her pretty feet and pushing knuckles into her soles. Still another, cupping her large breasts while spectral mouths set to work teasing her nipples with soft lips and furtive tongues. "I'm happy to share. Once you're really ready for it. Which you're not yet. That request wasn't remotely close to desperate enough."

"I hate you," his mother and his brother said in unison.

One of them might have meant it, but if so, it wasn't the one on top of him.

Seamus offered no further protest, though. Just stood there, stroking himself, watching.

A few more mouths appeared. He sucked on his mother's toes, licked her ankles, and nibbled at her ears. Tongued the brown bud of her anus ever so lightly. Trailed kisses down her spine and sank invisible teeth into her pale buttocks.

Meanwhile, he manipulated the fuck out of her senses. Pushed them up to the max, held them there, then dropped them down so far she barely felt the hard thrusts of his huge dick.

Her body was an instrument, and he played rambling, freewheeling music on it. There was no rhythm. No progression. No sense. That would have allowed her to brace herself for the sudden surges of intensity, the countless little crescendos and painfully slow buildups.

"Please," his mother panted.

"What?" Cahill asked. "Finish you?"

"Seamus."

He looked at his brother, whose green eyes begged him to agree.

"You call that desperate?" he asked his mother. A disembodied hand gave her ass a good smack. The thunderclap echoed across the bedroom, drowning out her whimper. "I don't think you need it."

"I do," she moaned. Her hips started working harder. Faster.

"Not yet."

Fairy fire, the proper sort, soon danced over nearly part of her glorious form. He dismissed the hands, though he immediately missed the feel of her, and let the mystical stuff do its job. Even without touching it, just lying so close to those hypnotic green flames, bathing in their power, Cahill felt the intense pleasure they delivered. His mother would feel as though her entire body was receiving the best oral sex anyone had ever performed.

Even after her pleas turned shrill, Cahill refused. He took her to the gates of Happy Town, spiked her sensitivity, and suppressed her climax. There he held her for five, six, seven minutes. Eight. Ten. Tears streamed from her cheeks. She tried to beg, but couldn't find the words. At long last, he stepped out of the way, and watched in fascination as she exploded, experiencing on of the most intense orgasms he'd ever witnessed.

The flames went out and Cahill stopped everything he was doing. His mother stopped rising up and slamming herself back down. She looked at first like she was having a seizure, then she went limp and fell atop him. He waited until her breathing leveled off at a pace just above normal before nodding to his brother.

"Oh!" she gasped as he probed her anus with a thumb.

"Yeah?" Cahill asked.

Lower lip trapped beneath impossibly white teeth, she nodded.

Seamus went slow. Very, very slow. A few times, their mother gave a slight start, but if her Libido was any guide, not once did she feel any pain. If anything, she was having trouble absorbing the bolts of ecstasy shooting through her body. When her son finished burying himself to the hilt, she let out a long, contented sigh. For the briefest instant, Cahill was jealous of her, wondering how good it must feel.

So too did he wonder, for just a moment, why so many women cringed at the very idea. But that really wasn't much of a mystery. Most women didn't have the ability to control their bodies and the messages relayed by said bodies to their brains. Nor did they have lovers like Seamus. Men who refused to go any faster than their women could handle. Or to run any risk of accidentally discovering just what it would take to cross that line. Men who saw anal sex not as an act of domination, a sign that their lover was willing to submit to them in the most painful way, but an opportunity to prove that they would never abuse their lover's trust. To build intimacy. To bring their women the sort of pleasure that could be exact right kind of crippling, if it was done just right.

Still, when he looked up at his mother's face, he saw such pure contentment, such joy, that he felt genuinely sorry for any woman who'd never experienced the same. And he wished he could make her smile like that all the time.

How could he have spent half the night dreading the fact that he now had to share her with Seamus? As much as he loved her, wanted her to experience as much happiness in this life as possible, he would never deny her moments like this.

The three of them moved as one, gradually picking up speed. In time, Caronwyn became a screaming banshee. She used them mercilessly, rapaciously, over and over again.

After guiding her through several intense orgasms, the brothers switched places. If only to appear magnanimous, Cahill gave the two of them some time alone before working his way into his mother's tight ass. Which he did nearly as slowly as Seamus had, though in principle her sphincter should be good and relaxed by now.

Every few inches, he paused to deliver a dozen or so kisses to her hair, neck, and shoulders. "How we doing?" he'd asked. If she could, she'd answer verbally. But mostly, she just purred.

Eventually, they worked back to breakneck speed. But it took a deliciously long time.

By the time their mother drifted off to sleep, happy as a clam, Cahill couldn't have been more thankful that Seamus was around to help him send her there.

#

The two brothers crept outside slowly, careful not to awaken anyone. Of course, there was no need to creep. A simple glamour ensured that they made no sound. But both Cahill and Seamus both still bent low and stepped lightly, if only out of habit.

"Sorry about weirding out on you earlier," Cahill said once they were outside.

Seamus pulled a bottle of whiskey out of thin air, poured a copious amount into two new glasses, then sent the bottle back from whence it came. "I'd probably feel the same way if I were you." He smiled as he held his drink out. "And I'm much better looking."

Cahill clinked his glass against his brother's. "Keep telling yourself that."

"Seriously, though," his littler yet older brother said. "Forget about it."

He nodded at Seamus then turned his attention to his whiskey. Which was damn good.

It was a clear night, and the moon was nearly full. The soft light made his brother's bare torso, considerably fairer than his own, glow. It was a good thing they'd put on pants, or he might have been downright blinding.

Or maybe that was just because of all the energy their mother had fed them.

The two of them had paid her tribute plenty of times. But if they'd had half as many orgasms as her, combined, it would come as a surprise to Cahill. As a result, they were practically buzzing like bees, and sleep was the very last thing on their minds. Being substantially stronger than his brother, though, Cahill wasn't quite as affected. Or illuminated.

"I'm not looking to get in the middle of you two," Seamus said. "Not that the sharpest wedge in the world, driven by the strongest hammer, could. I just-"

Cahill waved away the comment. "Understood."

His brother regarded him silently for a time then gave him an appreciative nod. Gesturing towards the gazebo with his whiskey, he looked a question at Cahill. Getting the answer he wanted, Seamus then led the way across the dewy grass.

"So. What was the Hunt like?" he asked after they were settled.

He gathered his thoughts for a moment before responding. It almost didn't seem right that he had nothing horrible to report.

"Not too bad. So far," he said at last. "But I think I managed to avoid the worst of it. Not sure I'll be able to do that forever."

"Forever? You don't see an end to this?"

Cahill shrugged. "I have no idea. The queen's a completely fucking mystery to me."

"To all of us, except maybe Oberon."

"Maybe Oberon," Cahill agreed, raising his whiskey to his lips.

Seamus stared pensively into his own glass. "She's never been half as crazy as she lets on, if you ask me." He swirled the whiskey, staring at it the way those who've smoked too much weed do blacklight posters or lava lamps. "I don't doubt that she sometimes does things for no reason. Or that the only reason is because the whim struck her." His hand went still, though the contents of his glass kept moving. 'But my guess is there's a reason for this."

"And what might that be?" Cahill asked.

"Choose a replacement for Oberon?"

"Then why insist that he take part? Why me?"

His brother shrugged. "I don't know, man. See how the true contenders fare in comparison? I'm not sure. Might be something else. But she has an end point in mind."

"You sound pretty sure."

Admittedly, the idea had its merits. Even Arawn was no Oberon. And Reilly was much stronger than he used to be. Fanatically devoted to her too, it would seem. Just choosing between those two, assuming Duncan and Uillym impressed Titania as little as they did Cahill, probably wouldn't be easy for her. Something like the Wild Hunt might be exactly what she needed to help her decide.

"I'm not," Seamus said. "Just drunk."

Cahill laughed. "You don't look drunk."

He shrugged again. Then downed a mouthful of whiskey that deserved to be sipped. "Call it a hunch then. I wouldn't bet on it. But I've never bought her crazy act. No more than all those flashing colors convince me her Libido is anything but pitch fucking black."

"If she was that bad, how'd Oberon ever develop feelings for her?"

"That a joke?"

"We back to the question of whether to trust him?" Cahill asked.

"No. Well, yeah, we probably should be, but that's not what I meant."

"This where you make another joke about guys and their mothers?" He took a slow sip of the whiskey, the way it warranted. "Because it was much funnier the first time."

"She's insanely hot. If you're into a certain type."

Cahill wasn't at all sure Oberon was. At least, he didn't consider the queen's appeal to be all that similar to Aeife's. But such things didn't always make sense.

"And I don't doubt she can be very charming. You and I have never seen her softer side, but we're Walkers. She hated us before we were even born."

"Fair enough," he replied as he raised his glass again.

Seamus knocked back most of what remained of his. "Back to Oberon."

A will o' the wisp bobbed towards them, and for a moment Cahill thought they were being summoned. Perhaps by the former prince himself, as though their conversation had set his ears to buzzing. But then it drifted away, carried by a gentle breeze.

"I trust him," Cahill said, more emphatically than he should have.

His brother drew aback. "Didn't mean to offend."

"You didn't. I just...I'm just drunk."

Seamus smiled and raised his glass in salute of his wit. "All I'm saying's it wouldn't kill you to keep your guard up a bit around him. Just in case."

He had a point. No harm there. "Noted."

"Much as I'd like to have Mom all to myself, I'd rather not lose you."

Cahill tossed the rest of his whiskey at his brother.

The jackass laughed and laughed as he cleaned himself up. Like Cahill's bout of jealousy was the funniest damn thing in the world.

#

"You sure you're ready?" her mother asked her, arms folded beneath her considerable bosom and a skeptical look in her green eyes.

Caronwyn nodded. "I told you, I didn't want to try while I was still hysterical. But I'm not anymore. I feel...well, better, anyway."

She tried not to think about the fact that told her mother it was okay to wear tops with such scandalous necklines had lied. At least while the children were so young. Her breasts were practically spilling out of that white halter.

A black brow climbed up Aeife's face. "Well isn't that convincing."

She was tired. Her sons had drained her heavily the night before. But she felt more in control of her emotions than she had since her son and daughter had died. Confident that she could do what needed to be done without inadvertently sabotaging the effort.

"Are you going to mock me or help me?" Caronwyn asked.

Her mother sighed and nodded.

First, they soundproofed the room. Then pulled it into its own space. They shouldn't need much time, but she wasn't sure. And their absence would likely be noted after just a few minutes, anyway. Best keep it to a few seconds if they could.

Next, they banished the bed she shared with her son. Or sons, she supposed. Assuming this failed. After that, the baby blue carpeting turned to smoke and faded away. Finally, Caronwyn began tracing a circle on the hardwood floors.

"You know none of this is necessary," Aeife chided. Because that was what her mother did when she spoke to Caronwyn. She chided. Occasionally scolded.

Did she sound like that when she spoke to Cahill and her other fully grown children? Like they were no older than Maeve or Maisie? She hoped not.

That wasn't fair. Her nerves were just shot because of what they were about to attempt. She was ready to try, but was not prepared for how disappointed she'd be if they failed.

Once they knelt across from each other, inside the circle, her mother clasped her hands. "Maybe we should build ourselves up first. We could both use some more energy."

Caronwyn shook her head.

It wasn't that she didn't want to fool around with her mother, though the idea only did so much to excite her. She just couldn't bear with waiting any longer. Not now.