Almost Gone Forever

I then began the process of skewering mom on my thick, phallic prod. I inched forward bit by bit, watching her striated ring slid against the dorsal plane of my dick. I Pushed and paused my way into her anal cavity, until my entire cock was buried in her ass. In all the excitement of finally having anal sex with my mom, I completely forgot to use the condom she gave me. But at this point, I don't know if I'd have the strength to stop now. Besides, making an issue out of it would only bring unwanted attention from our inconspicuous audience.

Now that I was firmly embedded in my mother's ass, I thought this would be the perfect time to come clean about my number one fantasy. I leaned over her back, brought my lips to her left ear and whispered, "Oh mom . . . I've dreamed about this moment ever since I was twelve. I'm ashamed to admit it but it's true."

I didn't know what her reaction would be but the last thing I expected was empathy. "I know baby. It's okay. I think I've always known. And don't be ashamed either. You just love momma the way you need to." That's when her sphincter muscles released their hold on me.

I moved my torso back to its upright position and slowly began to saw my erection in and out of her greasy butthole. With each plunge of my cock my mother would clench and unclench her constricting anus, stimulating the cutaneous nerves along my shaft. Gradually, I built up speed and intensity, thrusting rhythmically in and out of her anal passage. I held out for as long as I possibly could, which was no longer than three lousy minutes, before I yielded to the most tremendous orgasm of my young life.

My face scrunched into a feral-mask of pure animal lust while my dick repeatedly jerked against the ceiling of mom's rectum, spurting rope after rope of scalding jism deep into her bowels. I cried as waves of ecstasy coursed throughout my quivering body, sending ripples of pleasure that ricocheted between my balls and my glans. I had to slow my thrusts down because my sensitive cock couldn't withstand the friction of our coupling.

After the last remaining cum was drawn out of me, I held myself inside mom's ass gasping for breath. When my breathing returned to normal, I pulled my hips back until my flimsy cock cleared her yawing hole. The color contrast between the pink of her anus and the deep red of her rectum held my gaze to the point where I blocked out all stimuli from the room. I couldn't decide whether I wanted to lick the interior of her ass or bury my entire head inside. Such was the power of my unbridled lust. A lust no other woman would bring out again.

I know I should've stopped right then and there and respected the sacrifice my mother made in offering her ass to me, but I couldn't control the urge to bite down into the soft flesh that brought me so much pleasure. Her smooth ass-flesh yielded to my canines which marred the silky surface of her voluptuous rear.

I pulled my head back to admire my handiwork and was about to swoop in for a taste of her O-ring when a loud crash made us jump. I heard a man yelling out something before the pat, pat, pat of gunfire was exchanged. My fight-or-flight response kicked in making me pull my mother to her feet; I told her to get dressed. I hurriedly put my pants on and slipped into my shoes.

"Forget the slippers, mom! They'll slow us down." She kicked them across the room and ran to my side. Just then, the door to our room opened; a guy with a nasty scar across his forehead came in waving a machine gun. He grabbed my mother by the arm and roughly dragged her toward the door saying: "Pishly (Let's go), Pishly (Let's go)." He jerked his head to the side, indicating I should follow him, too.

That's when mom turned her head toward me. Tears streaked her face as she cried, "I love you Ricky. Always remember that." Scarface became very impatient and began shoving mom out of the room, embedding the nozzle of his gun in the small of her back.

Then it finally dawned on me: Scarface never pointed his gun at me. I mean, why should he. I'm a high-paying customer who stopped by looking to have a good time. Therefore, it stands to reason I would pose no threat to him.

I had to think fast or I might never see my mom again. "Proshu!" I think I said please but I wasn't sure. At least it got his attention. He began to turn around, and like a cat stomping on a mouse, I sprung forward and landed a knee strike right against the center of his chest. My aim was true and a sickening crack filled the room, indicating I had broken his sternum on impact. Scarface dropped to the floor, snarling in pain.

That knee strike was the one move I did better than anyone else at the Muay Thai dojo I trained at back in high school. In fact, it was the only move I ever mastered. I couldn't fight for shit, which is why my instructor suggested I look into a fighting system that emphasized legwork, such as Hapkido, for example. He said my arms weren't coordinated enough for other fighting systems.

By this time, Scarface was clutching his chest. He wheezed in an attempt to fill his lungs with air. I reached down, took his gun away, and told my mom to follow me out. "Mom, is there a back door in this place or some kind of fire escape?"

She frowned for a moment then her eyes lit up. "Yes! There is!" She said excitedly. "I once saw the boss take a girl out through a back door." she explained.

"Lead the way, mom." When we stepped out into the hall, a voice bellowed out of nowhere and said, "Mr. Delancy, put your weapon down and kick it across the floor toward us." I couldn't place the voice but there was a familiar ring to it. I placed the gun on the floor and kicked in with the heel of my right foot. That's when mom and I turned around and saw a police squad with their guns trained on us; not the most welcoming sight for a tourist. Then a man pushed through from the back; it was Mr. Bradley from the embassy.

I turned to my mom and said, "We're going to be okay, mom." That's when her eyes rolled back into her head. I held her up and scooped her in my arms. Mr. Bradley escorted us back to the embassy where mom was given a check up by the in-house physician. Aside from malnutrition, and a few bruises, she was going to be fine. However, the doctor suggested she get checked out by her primary physician when we returned to the states. Mom remained in bed hooked up to an IV-Bag during her convalescence; when she was strong enough, we gave our statements to Consul Stross' assistant.

The next morning, I asked Consul Stross how he knew I'd be at the whorehouse that night. He said he had me tailed when I left the embassy. He suspected I was going to do something brash. So when his informant reported that I had gone to the whorehouse alone, he placed a few calls and arranged for a team of police officers to storm the place at a moment's notice. Luckily for us, no one got the chance to tip off my mother's captors.

Once mom was strong enough to travel, the embassy arranged for our safe passage back to the States. I called my dad and told him the news. I put mom on the phone and they talked and she cried. For the first time in over three years, we were going to be a family again.

During the long flight home, mom explained the ugly truth behind human trafficking. She told me about the countless beatings, the rapes, the humiliation—all of it. She admitted some personal stuff as well, like how she and dad never had anal sex, even though he had asked her a couple of times. Mom's captors felt her ass was a definite moneymaker which is why they advertised it as her specialty.

In her humble opinion, she felt it was too big and not very attractive. My reply to her was "You have no idea how sexy it is, mom." I said that because it was the truth but also because I wanted to lighten her mood.

"I'm guessing I have a pretty good idea where you're concerned, young man." She smiled and I thought I detected a faint twinkle in her eyes. It was nice to know still had her sense of humor intact. That's when she cornered me and brought up the subject of my boyhood fantasy; you know, the one I admitted to having when I was deep in her ass. You should've seen the color change in my face. Mom said I went white one moment then red the next. She couldn't help but chuckle at my discomfort. Grudgingly, I gave in and told her the abridged version of my number one fantasy, hoping it would be enough to satisfy her.

When I finished, I couldn't help but put my head down in embarrassment. Mom reached over and lovingly grasped my hand and said, "Honey, we did what we had to do to in order to survive. And in a crazy sort of way, I'm glad I could give my baby something he's desired for so long."

We talked some more about it and I found out why my mom offered me her ass that night. She said if I fucked her in the ass, it wouldn't really be incest, whereas fucking her pussy would. I really didn't see the logic behind that but if it helps her cope, so be it. I changed the topic of conversation and filled her in on Harold and what he'd done for us. I had a hard time explaining the technical aspects of what Harold did because I really didn't understand them myself. But mom got the gist of it and said she'd have to personally thank him for all his help. We then pushed our seats back and got some much-needed sleep.

As the plan taxied down the runway many hours later, my mom made me promise to never reveal our incestual coupling to dad. I agreed for obvious reasons. When we exited the plane, I caught sight of my dad holding my sister's hand. "Dad!" When he heard my voice, he rushed over to us almost knocking down an old lady in the process. I stepped back and watched the three of them embrace. You should have seen the tears that were shed, even my dad, who I've never ever seen cry before, bawled like a baby as he tightly clutched mom to his chest.

It was time to go home . . .

For the next few weeks, dad never let mom out of his sight. Normally, any other woman would've complained, but I could tell it's what mom wanted. She needed to be loved again, not only by him but by all of us. And she sure got it in spades.

Before mom and dad made love that first time, she got herself checked out just like the doctor at the embassy suggested. Our family physician ran a battery of tests and found that several nerves in her anus had been damaged; the doctor delicately explained that mom may one day experience bowel incontinence, but the chances were good that wouldn't be the case, considering her above average muscle tone. I can personally vouch for that. In addition, she contracted "the gift that keeps on giving" commonly known as Herpes simplex virus 2 or (HSV-2). Granted, not the best news in the world, but it could've been much worse. In hindsight, now I understood the wisdom of mom's advice when she said I should wear a condom. Oh well.

Not surprisingly, the news didn't deter dad from ravaging mom that night. I suspect she finally gave him some ass because I could clearly hear his groans all the way from the kitchen. My sister giggled from the couch and went back to watching her movie.

Of course, I'm not going to sugarcoat the story and say everything was fine with my mom. Like many victims of human trafficking, mom suffered from a mild form of post-traumatic stress disorder. She had nightmares every night for god knows how many months. It took all our love and strength as a family but we pulled mom through it. Her weekly visits to the therapist helped her cope with many of the issues she had as a victim.

Mom's self-esteem was pretty low when she got back to us, which may partially explain why she decided to show Harold her gratitude by fucking the shit out of him. I didn't know about it until years after the fact. I had wondered where he got his newfound confidence. I should be pissed at Harold for accepting mom's offer but I'm sure he probably had little say in the matter.

At dad's insistence, mom was implanted with a microchip as a security precaution. I know some of you are thinking that's a little extreme, but under the circumstances, I have to agree with my father. And seeing how my sister is really a younger version of my mom, with an even better ass, it made sense to have her implanted as well. It cost my dad a fortune to have them both undergo the procedure, but the piece of mind it brought made it more than worth the expense.

I'm married now and have my own family. My mom is pushing 60 but she still looks wonderful to me. During family get-togethers, when no one is looking, there are times when are eyes connect. Like any mother who has kids, she has the uncanny ability to read me like an open book. This time around, it's mom who blushes.

The End