A Taste of Incest - Turkey (Mom)

The winter storm front had passed. Overhead were clear, cold, starry skies; underfoot, the thin snowfall powdered the ground. The track where she dragged Alex from the rock pool was only slightly filled.

She shuddered at the sight and rushed back to lie naked with her son.

They woke together in the dawn's early light. Megan spooned into Alex's back. He felt her pubic muff again, against his butt this time. She felt him stir and realized his cock was moving. She reached to his thigh with one hand, and around his pelvis, and took his cock, while her other arm wrapped tight around his chest. She slowly stroked his stiffening shaft and pinched a man-nipple.

"Morning, Alex. Feeling better? Remember last night?"

"Ummm, well... fuck, I mean damn, I nearly died, didn't I? And you saved my life, didn't you? And we kissed, didn't we? And now we're..."

"And now we're here and I love you, Alex. And you love me. And I haven't had physical love for years. And you're alive, and I'm alive, and you're an adult, and I love you. Turn around and face me, Alex." She squeezed her son's cock for emphasis. He sprang to attention.

He rolled over, or tried to, but had only moved from his side to his back when she rolled onto him and straddled his hips with her own. Megan lowered her mouth to his. He did not resist; their tongues dueled; she won.

"Mom, we-"

"Shut up, Alex. You need this. I want this. This is going to happen. I won't ask if you have any objections. I'm the judge; objections denied. Fuck me."

Megan was already wet with anticipation. He was stiff from her handiwork. She held her son's shaft, and aimed him, and lowered herself onto him. She worked his glans back-and-forth against her labia so his dickhead caught up her luscious lubricant. Then, determination: she embedded her grown son's penis deep inside her.

"Oh... oh... oh fuck, oh fuck... oh Alex, oh fuck..."

His response was a mixture of grunt and sigh.

She moved up-and-down on him, riding him slowly at first like a novice on a spooked pony, and then faster, more assured, rolling and rocking her hips on his. Her breasts swayed before his entranced face; he leaned up to suck her nipples, one and then the other. She moaned and moved even faster. He boosted his groin to meet hers.

Megan's fingers and toys had been her only sexual partners for years. Ryan had little social life; he mostly dated his hand. Can you say hair-trigger? They certainly felt it.

"Mom, I'm gonna-"

"It's okay, Alex, it's okay, go ahead, do it son, cum for me, cum in me Alex, cum for me..."

And he did. Explosively. Loudly. Not as loud as a woman screams, but loud enough, as he shot his living seed into the womb from which he had emerged a lifetime ago. Long surges, beyond count, beyond his wildest expectations. He filled his mother with his aeon of love. And he cried.

Megan felt her son's sperm shoot inside her and trigger her own ecstasy; she came too, a cosmic orgasm that seemed to drain her not only of bitter need but also of anxiety and loss and a vast accumulation of spiritual pain.

Alex's balls were drained dry but his young cock remained hard. Well, he softened a little, but Megan's kegel exercises quickly stiffened him again. He looked up at his mother in wonder.

"Mom, I feel so... so different, so good... and it's not just... I mean, oh fuck, I mean damn, what have I done to you? What-"

"What you've done to me is loved me, and cum in me, and you're going to do it again, and maybe a lot more. And I feel different too, as if I'm freed. But for right now you're going to roll me over and fuck me good and make me cum too. Ready?"

His mind raced. Was he ready for this? Was his mother? His mind raced but his instincts raced faster, and won.

And they did fuck, long and slow. And she did cry, long and loud. And again, with her arms wrapped around her son's neck, and her legs wrapped around her son's back, and her son's tongue deep in her mouth, and her son's cock and cum deep in her needy pussy, and their love deeply intertwined.

The sky was brighter when Megan retrieved fresh clothes from Alex's tent. Her red ponytail dangled from her RAIDERS ballcap down the back of her shearling coat to her fantastic ass. While he dressed, she heated water for their coffee+cocoa mocha, and fried-up eggs and Canadian bacon and sliced potatoes, and brushed the thin trace of snow from their camp furniture.

They breakfasted in silence -- a relaxed, peaceful silence, not the stillness of stress. Megan added tequila to their first cups of mocha but kept it straight afterwards. She leaned back in her chair next to his.

"What do you kids call it? Processing? Yeah, that's it. I haven't processed this yet, last night, this morning, everything. But I know something happened. More than you think; it's like... it's like I've had a huge weight sitting on me and it's slipped off. I'm not at peace with the world. I still miss your Dad like crazy and I always will. But somehow... I dunno, it's like, like a million gallons of pain evaporated from me."

Megan kissed his cheek. He looked in her jade eyes.

"Me too, Mom. I feel, I dunno, transformed almost; I'm not who I was yesterday. Dad is gone. The past is gone. We're here now. But where do we go from here?"

"You want me to take the lead?"

"I think you already have." He squeezed his mother's hand.

"Mmmm, yes... I guess we can do what we've always done, Alex. We'll poke around here till this afternoon, and I'll maybe shoot two more turkeys, and we'll pack up and go home, and you'll go to school, and I'll go to work, same as usual. We'll cook two birds for Thanksgiving and keep the other two for Christmas, and we'll have family over, and then it'll be next year and... who knows?"

Megan shrugged and continued.

"Or not that. We can pack up now and go right home and spend the day and night fucking like, like... did you know that pigs cum for a half hour? No shit. So we can fuck like pigs. No, that's wrong. We won't fuck. We'll make love, over and over, because we love each other more than anybody, don't we?"

He nodded. She nodded. She held out her hand. He took her fingers and softly massaged her palm.

"Or we can mix those. Finish the hunt. Go home. Live our lives. But in only one bedroom, not two. And we'll see what happens. How does that sound?"

Alex tilted his head and squeezed her hand.

"Sounds like something I need to think about, Mom. I think I have a rough idea. But let's live today like it's today, yeah. Finish the turkey hunt. Go home tonight. We'll talk, and think, and we'll work something out, something good. Good for both of us."

Megan stood and pulled her son up from his chair. She held him tight, her face into his shoulder, and then looked into his dark eyes. He kissed her and moved back.

"Okay, Mom. Let's clean up here and do our morning stroll. We'll walk up the ridge to where the view of the Crystal Range is so great. Take the shotgun; maybe we'll get lucky and you'll bag the other two this morning and we can get away early. Or we can crawl back into my tent for awhile. This isn't over."

Alex squeezed his mother. Damn, she was so beautiful! And so damn smart! He would do well to never underestimate her.

"One thing I know for damn sure," he said. "We'll have a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving." He kissed her. She kissed back. They broke apart eventually.

The End?

Author's note: This story by Hypoxia is copyright (c) 2014. This and its companion, the Dad version, are an experiment to compare reactions to the mother+son vs. father+daughter scenarios. Keep your eyes peeled for more standalone A TASTE OF INCEST tales -- some adapted, some new, none depending on their predecessors -- but go ahead, read them anyway. If you like this Winter Holidays 2014 Contest entry, VOTE!