Beyond the Borderline

I teased her just a little bit, taking her hand and kissing it.

"But once you do make up your mind, its take no prisoners time, for sure."

"As you said last night, lover-son, 'no regrets, no looking back.'"

"And I meant it. There are far too many wonderful things to look forward to than to waste time thinking about 'coulda, shoulda, woulda'."

I paused, thinking as another question occurred to me. I turned to Mom, blushing slightly. She must have sensed my hesitation, as always attuned to the slightest change in my emotions.

"What is it, darling?"

"Is it okay to ask you about, well, your past?"

She laughed merrily, taking both of my hands in hers and kissing me. "Of course, sweetheart. 'No secrets' applies to me, just as much as you. We're a real couple, besides being son and mother. What do you want to know?"

"Did you have any boyfriends or lovers while I was growing up?"

"I had a few brief affairs while you were still in elementary and middle school, but nothing serious. I'm a little ashamed to say that they were mostly with married men."

"Why, ashamed Mom? Did you see yourself as a home wrecker or something?"

"No, not really. For sure, I wasn't out to steal another woman's husband or boyfriend. I guess I was being selfish. I didn't want the burden of trying to establish or grow an adult relationship while I was raising you. I suppose I was selfishly scratching my own itches. Married guys don't want complications or entanglements either, so that was Jake with me. It was usually stolen lunch hours and an occasional evening 'working late,' but never with anyone I had a professional connection with. I may be an incestuous cum slut, but I still have some standards," she laughed.

"But you said after middle school you didn't see anyone."

It was then Mom's turn to be pensive. She thought for a long while before she spoke very quietly and hesitantly, "I don't believe I ever thought about it overtly, but in retrospect, I think I was subconsciously responding to the growing presence of a certain handsome young fella. I didn't (or maybe wouldn't) see it at first, but you were becoming the man in my life. Silly, stubborn woman that I am, it took me many years to finally be honest with myself on that score." She chuckled wryly, "Long story short, beginning around the time you were fourteen, I started wearing out toys for my 'stress relief'."

"Jesus, Mom! No sex for eight years? How did you not go crazy?"

"Just because I didn't have sex with a man, doesn't mean there weren't any 'big O's' for dear old Mom, kiddo. There were a lot of good things happening during that time, don't forget. My career was blossoming and I was watching my handsome son growing into a fine young man. Those things meant a lot to me. At the time, it was enough to compensate for other areas of my life that were lacking."

Reading my mind as usual, she smiled and gave my cock a gentle squeeze. "Just so we're clear on this, my fine incestuous son, NOBODY has ever fucked me as well as you do. The past twelve hours have been the best sex of my entire life."

"You're making my heads swell, Mom," I blushed with pride.

She let out a long, hard laugh, shaking with mirth. Rolling on top of me, she showered my face with kisses, lightly grinding her pelvis against me. "You make me feel so lucky and so loved, Ricky. You're my perfect man -- smart, romantic, talented, a great sense of humor and a cock that doesn't quit. What more could a woman want?"

"Someone who remembers to put the toilet seat down?"

"Your imperfections simply make you all the more adorable, dear boy. Now," she said decisively, "I believe we were originally talking about how you came to be such an amazing eater of pussy."

"Do you want the entire story, or the Cliff Notes version?"

"Oh, the whole cloth of it, by all means. I'm not going anywhere, in case you hadn't noticed," Mom said, settling herself contentedly under my arm.

"Well, dearest mother, as I'm sure you know, I haven't been a monk in college or high school, but you have to understand the way I feel, the way I felt about you before. You already know I've lusted after you since I could make wood, but I've been truly, hopelessly, head over heels in love with you since I was fifteen. I had my own drives and physical needs, but even when I was dating or seeing girls on a steady basis, I knew in my heart of hearts that you were my woman, and that no one else could hold a candle to you. I was basically biding my time, hoping for a miracle that would bring us together."

"It's no miracle, son. Surely you don't believe that I just all of a sudden began to desire you in the last few months?"

"I think I've been sensing you have had...other feelings for me for longer than that, maybe since the accident?"

"Well...close enough. I knew I was beginning to love you in a way a mother shouldn't for quite some time, but it's taken a long, painful journey to come to grips with it. The growing attraction I had for you, the intensity of those emotions was absolutely terrifying to me. Even as I was struggling with my own feelings, I was so worried about you, as your Mom. In my own heart, I needed to know, needed to know that we were going to last, but more importantly, that our coming together wouldn't hurt you in any way. On one level, I suppose I was being selfish, because I wanted you...for all time. I wasn't willing to settle for anything less."

With that statement, I began to tear up a little. I hugged her tightly and said "So maybe you can understand a little how things were for me in high school and college. I got to know some really great girls and did enjoy myself a lot, but in the end, I was marking time, learning how to please a woman, saving myself for the lady I really wanted - it was that important to me."

Mom sighed and snuggled under my chin, holding me tightly. "You're even more romantic than I am, son. I love you so very much for that quality. It makes everything feel like, well, like destiny. I'm so happy now, I could shout," she declared. "I want to throw open that window and scream at the top of my lungs 'I love my son! I love fucking him! I want to have his baby!' That's how you make me feel, lover-son."

Very seriously, I replied, "I feel exactly the same about you, Mom. I'm so happy I don't know what to do with myself. It's like, we know what the other wants and is thinking without even having to say anything. I can't imagine being so close to anyone else." Hugging her tightly to me, I said, "I suppose it's strange and terribly perverse, but when I think about us being together, I think of a verse from the Bible, of all things."

Nestling her lips next to my ear, she whispered "Isaiah 40:31...mount up with wings as eagles..."

I shivered at her prescience. "Beautiful lady, it seems you have all of me - heart, soul, body and now my very thoughts."

Mom kissed me passionately, running her fingers through my hair. "And I'll keep and treasure them forever, my beautiful husband-son!"

Abruptly, she switched gears from devoted lover to mischievous minx. "But, be that as it may, you've still got some 'splainin' to do, Ricky. I haven't finished my cross-examination yet," she teased.

Placing my hand on her breast, I rubbed her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, making her moan. "I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me titty."

"Don't distract me from my purpose, you lecherous young man! I have questions that require answers."

"Ask away, mother dear."

"Who was the first girl you made out with?"

"You sure you're not going to get upset or jealous?"

"What could I possibly get jealous about? Momma is going to have your wonderful cock the rest of her life."

"The first one was Grace Kim, Mom. We started kissing, you know, actually making out on our third date. And to anticipate your next question, she was the first girl who let me feel her breasts. That happened under the bleachers after homecoming in my sophomore year."

"I thought so. What about third base?"

"Again, Grace. That was Fourth of July weekend, summer after my sophomore year. We were making out by the bandstand next to Lake Chapman and things just sort of...happened. It was sort of awkward - she liked it, but I didn't know much about what I was doing. I eventually made her come, by trial and error, mostly and then she rubbed me off through my jeans."

"Was she the first one to touch your cock?" she asked a bit enviously.

"Mom, I thought you said weren't going to get upset!" I said with concern. "Should I stop?"

Smiling sheepishly, she blushed. "Sorry, Ricky. I'm being silly, I know. I just can't help it."

Smiling reassuringly, I took her hand and placed it over my groin. "You said it yourself already, mom, it's all yours, only yours. Nobody else is going to touch it ever again."

"Anyway, yes, it was Grace," I continued. "That was a few weeks later. We came back to the house while you, Gramps and Nana went to that Broadway show. We were nervous at first, but it was pretty exciting. You know, Mom, if it weren't for you, I might still be seeing her. She reminded me a lot of you - it's probably why I was attracted to her in the first place. I liked her because she was so honest and straightforward. She always told me what was on her mind. She also was really open about things like how she wanted to be touched, stuff like that. So...in a way she was my first teacher."

"I'm glad you were with her, Ricky. I always liked her very much, and you know how picky I am."

"Thanks, Mom. We never got much beyond touching each other with our clothes on. I don't think either of us were ready for anything more."

While we were dissecting my previous so-called sex life, Mom was idly running her hands over my chest, occasionally pausing to rub my nipples, gradually widening the circle of her explorations to my abdomen. It was starting to drive me bananas. She then grasped my cock, gently squeezing it to life.

"Who was the first girl to wrap her lips around this wonderful piece of meat?" she asked with an evil grin.

"That would be Amanda Jennings, from up the street."

"Betty and Harold's daughter? I don't believe it!"

"Yah. It was about a year after Gramps and Nana passed. Betty knew I was pretty good at keeping our pool working, and they were having some problems with theirs, so she asked me to check out a couple of things. Anyway, Amanda was visiting from college, I was there, she liked my looks and was feeling sorry for me, you know, about Gramps and Nana. One thing led to another and she ended up doing me in the cabaña. I think it might have gone farther, but Betty came home then, so we stopped. It's funny though. I enjoyed it, and after all, Amanda is a beautiful girl, but in the end, I felt guilty. I didn't like the sympathy aspect of it. It ended up detracting from what was otherwise pretty amazing. Still, it was a generous thing she did and I guess I appreciate the spirit in which it was offered, looking back on it."

"Was she any good?"

"Mom, when you're that age, any blow job is a great blow job," I laughed.

"Truer words were never spoken, young man."

As she continued to stroke my cock, she rubbed her thumb over the head, moistening it with my precum. I shuddered at her touch.

"Now we come to the crux of matters, son-lover. To whom do I owe the thanks for your incredibly educated tongue?"

"That would be my English professor at the U, Cassandra Ellis."

Mom was silent for a long time. "Ah, I just knew it -- it had to be an older woman...I think I saw her once Ricky, some freshman orientation or something else I went to with you. In her late forties, strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes, about my height, trim figure...like me, son. Like me. I was never far from your thoughts, was I?"

"Hardly ever, Mom," I agreed quietly.

"As much as we shared in looks, weren't you tempted to fuck her?"

"Oh God, yes, more than you know. You have to understand though. I was very up front with her, that I was saving myself for someone special. We were very attracted to each other, but I think she truly understood my romantic outlook. So, we carried on in other ways, which we both enjoyed. She was a fun, adventurous person and very warm and patient. I learned a lot from her. We stopped seeing each other just over a year ago."

"Why did you stop seeing her?"

"Well, actually, she broke it off. The last time we were together at her apartment, I was in a rush to get home. I dropped my wallet on the way out and didn't realize it. I was in the lobby when I discovered it wasn't on me and had to go back up to get it."

"She was waiting for me. She told me that she didn't intend to pry, but that the thing had fallen open when I dropped it. She saw your picture. When she handed it back to me she said that I had paid her the very highest compliment, which she would always cherish, but that she didn't have any desire to 'be that particular second fiddle.' As I was leaving, she said something interesting, though."

"What was that?"

"I may not have the words exactly right, but they really stuck with me. She said, 'You've chosen to fly perilously close to the sun, my young Icarus. You're a very sweet young man and I hope you don't get burned. You've chosen a path that can only yield transcendent love or unbearable pain. I wish you luck.' Something like that," I concluded. "She was right, too. I experienced that pain when you went off to Vancouver, but in the end, we gambled and won."

"A perceptive woman with excellent taste in young men, I believe. But I do have one more question. This business of playing with my bottom, with you hands and tongue, did she teach you this?"

"No, she didn't. That's for you only, Mom. It's too intimate, too special to share with anyone except your true love. I've never done those things with anybody else. It's just for us."

"Did you use to, uh, masturbate thinking about doing those things with me?"

"Mom, anything and everything a man and woman can do together, I've fantasized about doing with you. Touching and eating you back there, it's been a particular turn on for me for a long time. I think it's because it's so incredibly intimate. Oh, and naughty too," I grinned.

Mom hugged me tightly. "I'm so glad to hear that, Ricky. It makes me feel unique and especially well-loved."

"I could never do anything less, Mom. Now, will the dragon lady release me from my interrogation?"

"Why? Are you going somewhere?"

"I'm exactly where I belong, next to you in our bed. However," I said, nodding towards my groin, "You've started something that you had better finish. The natives may get restless otherwise."

"I see. And how do you propose that we accomplish this task?"

"I'm easy to please. You can decide."

"In that case, I think Mommy will suck you off. I want some of your sweet cum for breakfast."

With that, Mom scooted down between my legs and took me into her mouth, swirling her tongue, moving her hands sensuously on my shaft. I went from semi hard to clawing the sheets in less than a minute as she worked her magic on me, slowly bringing me to the edge of ecstasy many times, only to squeeze me back from the brink, teasing me unmercifully. When she finally allowed my release, I felt like the top of my head would blow off. I must have shot half a dozen huge, sticky ropes into Mom's eager mouth, not one drop of which was lost.

When she finished me, I lay totally limp, with an occasional involuntary twitch shaking my frame, rendered entirely speechless. Curling up next to me, Mom giggled.

"Mmmmm, breakfast of champions."

"Jesus," I croaked hoarsely.

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of your taste, lover. I could suck on your cock and slurp your cum all day long."

"Jesus."

"A man of few words, are you?" she teased.

"Mmmmm. Sorry, melted brain. Mom, you are incredible, you do me so well...I don't know what it is, but you know exactly how to drive me insane. If you get any better at sucking me off, I'm gonna need a defibrillator."

"We can put it on the shelf next to my fire extinguisher."

"Hah! You make me laugh, pretty lady. It's one of the things I love most about you."

"Thank you, kind sir."

I inquired after breakfast. Mom owned to being pretty hungry, but didn't really want to leave the bed. I felt the same way, so we just lay together and cuddled, exchanging caresses and kisses. And we talked. We talked and we talked, like we never had before. All of our hopes, wishes and dreams we laid out to each other, fully blending our lives together as a couple, looking to our shared future.

Finally, our long-empty stomachs drove us from the bed. I made Mom her favorite - my breakfast slumgullion, a mix of scrambled eggs, sautéed ground beef, crumbled bacon, sweet onions, cheddar cheese, cilantro and Tabasco, served with large hunks of toasted sourdough. We gorged ourselves, washing down our food with oversized mugs of hot latte.

Conversation was at a minimum, but we didn't need any. A glance, a smile, a nod or casual brush of hand against arm served to speak volumes as we recharged ourselves. As we wound towards the finish of our meal, our shared glances became more intent, the touches more intimate, sensuous and lingering. When I made to clean up our dishes, Mom simply pulled me away from the sink, took my hand in hers and led me towards our bedroom.

We didn't emerge until the dark of evening, once again driven from our incestuous embraces by absolute fatigue, well-fucked soreness and raging hunger. We baked potatoes, pan fried a couple of strip steaks and had a green salad, accompanied by a nice Sangiovese, which we demolished in short order before heading once again to our lover's lair.

***

Sunday dawned (as much as you can call waking up at 11:00 am dawning) to find us still entwined, sheets damp and our bodies still slightly sweaty. I stretched and winced, my shoulders and neck stiff. Mom stirred and rolled over into my arms, groaning slightly.

"Morning, lover. How's my hard-working, incestuous son today?"

"Wonderful, momma-love. Just a little sore. I think I'm discovering a few under-utilized muscle groups today."

"You and me both. I feel wonderfully tender and slightly abused."

I tenderly traced my finger along her nose and cheek, brushing her hair back over her ear.

"I do recall some sort of event happening around 2 am. I seem to remember that I could hear a lady screaming 'Harder! Do me harder!' I also remember I was happy to oblige."

"Hmmmphh!" Mom huffed, trying to look severe, but ultimately failing, her stern expression, slowly replaced with a lopsided grin and the beginnings of a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"A true gentleman always tries to accommodate his lady's wishes."

"A true gentleman doesn't slap his mother's bottom while he's fucking her doggie-style."

I dissolved in laughter. "Mom, I don't know if I'll ever measure your true depths. You're definitely more woman than any one man could handle. We've unleashed a monster here."

"I reserve my best for the man I love."

"I'm honored. I do seem to remember that you did enjoy your little spanking, though."

"God help me, yes," she blushed. "I have never let myself go like that. You're a very bad influence, young man, turning your mother into a son-cock-crazed whore." She laughed and kissed me soundly, murmuring, "I'm going to have a wonderful time going to hell with you, boy. We are soooooo bad!"

"Mom!" I protested. "I refuse to believe that. What's happened between us, it's meant to be, it's right, it's true and it's love. Love is never bad."

"I was being facetious, Ricky. I believe in us too. It's difficult to adjust to the idea of heaven on earth, that's all."

"I could listen to your sweet words all day, Mom, but I do have some thoughts about our schedule."