tagIncest/TabooA Drink Before the War

A Drink Before the War


It was war and all able-bodied men and women were asked to join the armed forces to fight for freedom, to fight for the oppressed, to fight for the honor of those that had fallen in a senseless, terrorist attack against innocent Americans. Jason Mathers was no different and, after making a pact with five of his closest friends in his senior year of high school, had enlisted in the army. Despite the immediate protest and argument from his mother, Clarisaa, Jason was relieved that his father, Jack, had at least shaken his hand in man-to-man respect. Jack had not agreed with his son's reasoning and pact with friends, but he certainly respected Jason's decision to fight for his country.

The school year would be over in three short months and Clarissa was beside herself, becoming more and more agitated as the date approached for Jason's graduation and entry into the military. Sure, she had heard stories and seen many movies on boot camp. But it was war and the effects of war that she dreaded the most. Those older films where weaponry was more conventional seemed, to her, more livable. Nowadays, she fretted, weapons were far more lethal and the toll on the human body more permanent. What she feared the most, quite frankly, was the death of her only son. She knew—felt—that Jason would be off to a glorious war never to return. Or even if he were to return, he would be so mangled, disfigured, or brain dead as to make simple conversation a living hell for all of them. If physical injuries did not strike him down, then surely mental disorders would cripple her once athletic and proud son.

On the night of his graduation, Jason spent his remaining hours partying as hard as any red-blooded American teenager would or could. Who could blame him? He and his friends were off to war. They celebrated and cheered each other and drank to each other. He bought several rounds of drinks and his friends bought him several rounds of drinks. It was not unlike a bachelor party. The only things missing were the strippers and hookers and, despite his ruggedly good looks, Jason was currently without a girlfriend. The lack of female companionship was not lost on him, but Jason enjoyed the last supper with his friends nonetheless.

By midnight he had stumbled to his front door, having been left off by his soon to be fellow soldier friends. In the morning, after a few hours' sleep, they would be forever joined in the brotherhood of war.

Jason nearly missed a step as he shut the door behind him. He could barely take his coat off and was about to head up the stairs to his bedroom when he noticed the light on in the living room.

His parents had waited up for him.

Jason smiled drunkenly and stumbled forward. Shit, he was drunk! And they would—oh hell—he was a man now! He had graduated and he was to become a soldier in the morning. Surely they could understand that a man had to have a drink before the war.

When he stepped into the living room, Jason saw his mother sitting at the couch. He looked around and found no sign of his dad. The soft glow of the lamp on the end table by the couch gave the room an ethereal aura, as if his mother was haloed in heavenly light. Jason peered through his hazy, blurry eyes and saw that she was in her sheer pink and white nightgown. At first, he thought she might have fallen asleep because she sat so still and did not say a word. Then he saw that she was casually holding a crystal goblet, nearly empty with some amber liquid pooled at the bottom. Some of her mascara had run and he knew she had been crying.


Clarissa sniffed once and drank the rest of her bourbon. She took a long time swallowing, then rested the glass on the end table. The bottle was just about empty. Jason smiled and hiccupped.

"You're still up?"

"It's your last night. Of course I was going to stay up." She stood and walked slowly towards him. "Did you have fun with your friends?"

Jason nodded dumbly. "Can you tell?"

She gave him a small smile and nodded too. "Yes, and I can smell that you had quite a bit of fun. Headache's going to kill in the morning."

Jason shrugged. "If the hangover doesn't do it, I'm sure the drill sergeants will finish the job."

Then her smile disappeared. "That's not funny."

"I'm sorry."

She took his hand and led him to the couch. "Why don't we sit a while. Not too tired, are you?"

"Well..." She led him anyway, helping him to come down on the couch before sinking in beside him.

It was probably the alcohol, probably the last supper as a free man, probably not having a girlfriend for his last night as a civilian, probably not getting laid before shaving his head and living with other men, but Jason distinctly and unashamedly noticed the low cut if his mother's teddy. Her robe had flown slightly open when she sat and he got a wonderful glimpse of her milky breasts as they pushed the satin fabric to its limits.

He could not help but smile to himself. Clarissa noticed his quick glance. She blushed slightly, realizing just how scantily dressed she was. Too late to change now. Besides, he was a growing boy. No, she thought, he was a man now. Tomorrow he would go off to war and become a man faster than an eighteen year old boy should. She stifled a sniffle and held back tears. Swallowing, she smiled at him through watery eyes.

"You know, you haven't said your oath yet. You could always—"

"Are we going to go through this again, mom? You know we've talked about it a couple of times. Maybe four or five times. I have made my decision and I'm going to fight with my friends. We're going to protect our freedom and our way of life. You can't fault me for being patriotic."

"No," she said, looking down at her hands on her lap. "I know I can't. I mean, your father served a few years in the army too, but he didn't get sent to any combat. He was lucky."

"Lucky? Dad was lucky he didn't get to fight? He trained for a few years on how to kill the enemy and he didn't get to use those skills. You call that lucky? He was lucky he didn't get hurt, yes, but I am the one who is lucky that I get to fight for our country. I am proud and lucky to be an American."

Tears began to stream down her face again, probably for the third time in two hours. She smiled now, genuinely proud of her son, the soldier. "You're so right, hon. How could I ever question your commitment? I'm so proud of you. Your father and I are."

Jason glanced around. "Dad's asleep?"

Clarissa nodded. "He stayed up as long as he could. We both had...well...a couple of drinks. He's snoring away upstairs. But I'll wake him early to see you off."

Jason took another furtive glance at his mom's cleavage. His mom's cleavage! God, she was beautiful. In the afterglow of a really good buzz, or the soft light in the living, or his heightened senses for his impending doom, all soldiers sought solace from a good woman. And his mom was exquisite.

She knew where his eyes strayed and she smiled inwardly, perhaps drunkenly. "You know, I was probably just a couple of months older than you, just out of high school myself, when your dad proposed to me. We got married in a quickie wedding at the justice of the peace. Just eight of our closest friends and family. And then, he got shipped off to Korea for a whole year. He came home for a month on leave and of course, I got pregnant at nineteen. Your dad knocked me up during his leave." She gave a soft chuckle and Jason's mouth watered as she jiggled in her sheer nightie.

"That's a great story to tell, mom. I'm off to war too and you talk about great sex with a beautiful woman. Where does that leave me?"

The clock struck on the mantle. One a.m. They were both startled, as if waking from a hazy dream. What had he just said? Clarissa wondered. She had mentioned her wedding to his dad, his leave from Korea, and having great sex with a young man when she was eighteen. Eighteen. Jason was only eighteen. A boy. A child. Her child! But no, a man. A man sat beside her, with an unshaven chin, strong arms, a strong body, and the smell of whiskey on his breath. Just like Jack. So much like Jack.

"What do you mean 'where does that leave me'?"

Jason looked down and sat silently.

Clarissa furrowed her brows, trying to unravel his words. Where does that leave me?

"You've been with all your friends, right? I mean...it's your last night to be out and about."

Jason nodded his head but did not meet her eyes.

"And Heather? You were with Heather, right? I mean, she did see you on your last night."

Jason could not meet her eyes. "Mom, Heather broke up with me a week ago. She's headed for college and she didn't know where that put us. She didn't want to commit to someone who was going off to war. She said she didn't want to hang on to someone that was going in another direction. She needed her...space."

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, Jason!" She tried to reach out to him, but he shrugged her off.

"It's okay. She's probably right. I made a commitment to my friends, my family, and my country. I'm not going to renege on my promises."

Tears rolled down her face now and Jack—no Jason!—reached out and wiped it softly with his fingers. She turned into his hand and kissed his palm. "I'm going to miss you, Jason. I...I'm afraid."

"Don't be, mom. I'll be fine. I'll be back."

She looked at him, but his image shimmered with the tears brimming over, and she saw a handsome soldier going off to war.

"Will you?" Her voice cracked. "Will you be back?"

"Of course. Of course I will. You have to believe that."

She nodded. "I do believe that. And I won't abandon you like Heather. She's a child. She doesn't know what she wants. She couldn't possibly understand a woman's devotion and commitment. But I do. I will always wait and be here for you."

"Thanks, mom."

They smiled at each other, staring across infinite space, eyes so sincere, so full of love. He could feel her devotion. He knew if any woman was to ever remain faithful and true to him, it was his mom. This exquisite, beautiful woman. His hand was still on her face and he stroked her cheek softly. Clarissa's eyes closed and she reveled at the warmth of his touch.

With her eyes closed, Jason stole yet another glance at her motherly breasts, so large, so milky, so perfect. He swallowed and his breathing was labored. God, he had to get away before...before...before what?

He cleared his throat and tried to speak. Then, looking up, he noticed that she had been watching him. Her mouth was slightly opened and he could hear her breathing heavily too. Jason swallowed again and gazed back at her, both saying nothing. Neither wanted to speak; neither wanted to break the spell.

Jason whispered, "We better...we better...get to bed."

Clarissa nodded. She stood up and held her hand out. Dumbly, Jason took her proffered hand and stood in front of her. He was taller now, broader, and looking down at her, this woman, this angel. His heart fluttered and threatened to burst.

Silently, she pulled him towards the stairs, still holding hands. The carpeted stairs muffled their secret steps as they climbed to the second floor. She faced him at the landing, still clutching his sweaty hand. If she turned to her left, she would be five steps from the master bedroom where his dad was sleeping soundly. If she took a right, she would be three steps to his bedroom.

Jason sighed once, offering her an almost apologetic smile. Sorry for staring at your tits, mom. You're so fucking beautiful and I'm so fucking drunk and I want to fucking fuck y--...Jesus!

"It's late. Time for bed."

Clarissa stared at him on the landing. She too had decisions to make. She nodded. "Yes, bed."

His heart was pounding, louder than bombs, hammering to wake up the dead. His hardness throbbed also, screaming for release. And then she did it. She turned to her right and led him into his room. Jason's mouth opened but no words came out.

Clarissa closed the door behind them, quietly. In the darkness, they could see each other. They stared like two nervous kids sneaking around. They were teens again, doing something naughty. Forbidden.

Jason was nervous as hell. "You're going to tuck me in? It's been quite a few years for that, mom. I think I can do this myself."

She came to him, her fingers on his lips to silence him. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Then, looking down, slowly, ever so slowly, he bent down and kissed her. It was a soft kiss, a chaste kiss, a first date's kiss.

Clarissa smiled when their lips came apart. "Mmmm. That was nice," she whispered. She reached up and kissed him again, this time longer, their saliva seeming to join now. Lips moistened, hips pressing, their hands pressed the other's body closer. Closer.

Another gasp of air and he looked down at her with wider eyes. "What are we doing, mom?"

"I...I want you...to leave here, knowing that you're loved and wanted and adored. I want you to have one last night...of love."

"I do love you, mom. I love you...and dad."

She kissed him again, harder, pressing her hips into his throbbing hardness. "I know, my love. I know you do. But I want you to know that I love you, that I will be true to you."

She pushed her satin robe off and he could now see her cleavage without obstruction from the outer garment. She reached down and helped him out of his t-shirt. Then, she was fumbling with his jeans.

"I....but....what about...dad?"

She blinked at him through the darkness and gazed at him with a serious and seductive look. "He...appreciated this too when he went off to the army. He left me something to remember him by. We made you that night."

Jason pushed his boxers off, along with his sneakers and socks. He was panting like a dog in heat as he delicately lifted the spaghetti straps of his mom's teddy. She raised her arms up and, as he pulled her top off, her bountiful breasts came bouncing into full view. So large, so pale, so motherly. He fed them to his ravenous mouth, taking each globe and nipple, lightly biting, licking, sucking. Clarissa's head fell back and she let out a moan.

He carried her to his bed and laid her down gently. Slowly, he peeled her white, satin panties off as she raised her hips to help.

"God, you're so beautiful, mom," he gasped. He knew he was drunk, but he meant every word. "I love you."

Clarissa nodded. "Yes, baby. I love you too. And I want you to make love to me."

She spread her legs for him, moist and inviting, as he climbed between her milky thighs. She held his shaft and guided it into her. Like liquid velvet, he sank into her soft, yielding depths. She clenched him tightly when he had sunk all the way home and they both groaned with passion.

"Oh God, mom! You're so beautiful! You feel so good!"

"Oh baby," she moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Then he began to thrust in and out of her. She joined in his movements. Matching his motion with her own, gyrating her hips in circular fashion, as he increased his tempo. He was fucking her. He was fucking his own mother!

"Oh Jesus! God! You're so fucking perfect, mom! God, I love you!"

"Oh yes, baby. Love me....love me...make love to me..."

Jason's pace increased, harder and harder, as he kissed her face and neck and breasts. Then, moving his attack's higher, his lips sought her mouth. They kissed frantically, like two school kids in the backseat of a car.

Suddenly, Jason realized something. "Oh God...mom! Mom...I'm not...wearing any protection." He did not, however, slow his pace. He continued to fuck in and out of her liquid heat.

Clarissa was crying now, tears streaming out of her eyes, as she held onto his face to look at him directly. "Oh baby...baby...I don't care. I don't care. Come in me. Come inside of me!"

"What? But--!"

"Ssshhhh, baby...it's okay. It's all right. Everything will be all right. I want you to. I want you to come in me. I want you to give me something, a part of you. I want you to leave a part of you with me, forever. In case...in case....I want you to leave me something from you. Come in me! I want you! I want all of you. I want you to...get me...pregnant. I don't care. If you get me pregnant, it will be a part of you. It will be something special, something just between us. Just the two of us. It will be us, our love. It will be this secret, special love just between us. Please!"

"Oh God, mom! But--! What about dad?" Jason was shocked, confused, in love, in lust, and his fucking never missed a beat. He continued to fuck her faster and harder. With the realization of her intent, Jason pounded into her harder than he had ever fucked another girl. He was so in love with his mom.

"Ohhh! God!!! Okay!! Here it comes!!!" Jason was yelling so loudly, he thought for a moment that he would wake up his father. But he did not stop. He gave in to this incestuous, forbidden dance.

Clarissa clutched him tightly, making sure he poured out all of his lust and love deep into her. Again and again, his body surged forward, shooting his molten seed inside of her fertile womb.

Jason was gasping for breath, drowning in her love. He heaved and pushed, shot his load again and again, until at last, in utter defeat, he collapsed on top of her, their sex and juices and sweat mingling in their shattering climax.

It seemed like many minutes before one of them could move. They smiled at each other and kissed softly, whispering more words of love and promise and commitment and devotion.

Jason Mathers had in fact been killed in action on his eighth month in country in Iraq. He died happy and satisfied. He had fought for his country, for his family, for his mom. Pictures of a glowing, beautiful and very pregnant woman adorned his foot locker.

And on the following month of his funeral, Clarissa gave birth to their daughter.

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