Cloud Nine

'Now we must prepare breakfast, let us change to casuals,' he guided her out. This time he tried a half skirt and a feminine shirt on her. He lovingly put on the buttons and again kissed the distracting feminine cones on her handsome chest.

'Now I will take over and cook something for my child,' she declared.

'Sure,'

'What shall I make for us, would you like to have pan cakes?'

'Anything, but the pan is up there on the mantel piece.'

He climbed up a table and collected the pan. The magnificent vision of her creamy dreamy cherubic bosom from above was breath taking. He stood there transfixed.

She smiled encouragingly, 'enjoy them baby, they are entirely yours.' She opened two top buttons for his benefit. His moth watered watching the breasts cutely and smugly encased in the envious bra cups.

'I do not need anything more in the world if those venerable darlings are before me. They are so perfectly sculptured by nature.'

'But here is some promising dynamism,' she grabbed his raging bonner and in a hurry pulled down his pants. Her eyes feasted on the eight inch magnificence.

'My child is well endowed,' she exclaimed and put his head into her mouth, 'need my morning protein before breakfast,' she said.

He encouragingly pumped into her delicate mouth. The first spurt hit the roof of her mouth. Many more followed filling her mouth. Her eyes were half closed in sheer ecstasy.

They had their breakfast and lunch together from the same plate feeding each other, taking time to feel and fondle each other. For the afternoon siesta she slept on his chest, inhaling his manly fragrance.

When she woke up she found him watching her. She smiled and kissed his chest. He softly fluffed her hair.

'My saintly mother, I want to make love to you for the rest of my life in my mountain retreat far from the crowds and urban rabble. We are going there today if my goddess is willing.'.

'Take me anywhere. I am happy as long as I get to sleep on your bosom like this.'

That evening they started off. They took off in his car when the crimson rays of the aged December son was slanting to caste long and oblong shadows on the sprawling surfs of grass.

'We are taking off to the halcyon seclusion of the towering mysterious mountains, where my Shangri-La is perched high near the star spangled heavens. There I will offer you my pure love that runneth over for you,' he said.

They drove eastwards on Kottayam-Kumali road. Shortly the road was scrambling up hill. They crossed the blue black expanses of rubber plantations that mantled the hills and glens that spread as vast as eyes could reach. By the time they reached the other side of the ridge, night was spreading its soft silken black gossamer across the strutting, blustery and blushing mountains and pensive valleys. She asked him to stop the car for a while. Millions of stars emerged from the blue infinity and smiled at them. Three thousand feet below they could see puny specs of kerosene lanterns fighting the inky night. The valley appeared to be the reflection of the heavens. The pleasures of emancipation from the cloistered life were sweeping past her. She stood at the brink of the ravine and stretched her slender arms to embrace the heavens. Alex stood behind her and held her close. She watched the tufts of mountain mist loitering on the flanks of the towering mountain. God's world is beautiful man made it ugly with his institutions and constitutions.

'Where do the silver clouds come from and where do they go? They come from nowhere and go nowhere. Ours is the way of the white clouds, there are worlds within worlds behind the tapestry of time. We will be here forever, loving and sharing,' he said.

'I want to stalk and saunter in the garden of stars,' she said like a spoiled child.

'That can be arranged, precious mother,' he said nonchalantly.

'Really?' she kissed him right in the mouth.

They moved on, crossing infinite expanses of lush cardamom, coffee and tea plantations. The winding road seemed to merge into the star studded heavens. The rolling hills appeared like luscious breasts feeding the heavens.

At a small township en route, he bought an ice cream cone and came to the car.

'Only one, where is yours?' she asked.

'What a silly question, I will have my share from your sweet mouth,' he said with a conspiratorial grin, she laughed.

She poured into his mouth the thawed vanilla ice cream mixed with her re-energizing saliva. The process offered a kinky excitement. It was like the mother dove regurgitating into the yawning mouth of the fledgling.

'This is how a son should have his ice cream,' he said.

Speeding over the rickety mountain road, they reached his perch deep at night. It was a world of their own. On top of the hill, close to the whispering skies. When she emerged from the car, dazed after the long journey, he lifted her up and moved to the house in the midst of a large and lush garden. Winter enveloped them with charming needles of chill and cold. She was surprised to see the doors opening themselves when he reached them. He must be a magician.

'I am not a magician, my precious mother, it simple remote control using IR,' he said reading her mind.

He deposited her on the soft snow white bed.

"Tonight you will experience how a devoted son worships and loves his goddess mother,' he bragged. She giggled. After freshening up they retired to the warmth of the bedroom.

Like a delicate and fragile gift he removed her rustling clothes.

'The brassiere is quite unwilling to come off, greedy fellow,' he said.

There was honey in the gusset of the panties. He ate it with long and eager jabs with his tongue. She watched the spectacle with a thawing heart. Then he laid her down on the bed and unclasped her rich flowing hair.

'Are you ready my precious queen?'

She giggled.

He began kissing her hair. He softly nibbled at her ear lobes. He licked her neck that shined like balsam gloss. He kissed both of her eyes and came to her lips. She opened her mouth and offered her tongue. Enticing taste of vanilla lingered in her mouth. He lavished on her mouth, reaching out to the most inaccessible parts. She encouraged him, fondling the back of his head.

He moved down and fondled her breasts as if they were real gifts from god. At the same time his tongue was invading her armpit. She shiveringly opened herself for the invader. He licked the soft sprig of fragrant hair, she mewed uncontrollably.

'Love is the panacea that ensures everlasting amnesia.

Every part of you is an exquisite piece of art and in the poetic totality they chorus a blissful promise.

The magic recess that tethers mankind to the realm of mundane realities, without which every man would stray away into the rarified heights of philosophy and asceticism, which will mark the end of civilization, the entire gamut of geopolitics and the quest for scientific advancement.'

She smiled.

'This is the fulfillment of a protracted dream, ' he said amidst soft jabs with his magical tongue, 'God designed this lovely hair to retain your heavenly perfume. The architect of life saw to this minute detail too while designing this feminine divine.'

She was getting impatient. She forcefully guided his lips to her left nipple. Her breasts were radiant, sweet, luscious, ripe and mellowed orbs of living grace, feminine charm coalesced and rolled into impeccable morphological perfection, one becoming the symmetric twin sister of the other.

The effect was excruciating and sweet. Her nipple was on the verge of explosion. The other nipple was quivering in anticipation. His gifted fingers took care of that. Suddenly she came with a strange sound.

'Oh my god, this is it,' she huffed.

'We are only in the preliminaries,' he warned, 'there are more unchartered territories of paradise down south.'

His lips moved their pious way down.

'This morning my mouth was watering to lick your heavenly thighs,' he moved to her thighs. She opened her thighs to accommodate him. Now she was quivering uncontrollably. His hands were busy caressing her thighs while his tongue teased them.

He saw her precious honey flowing down milky white, like mountain snow down the crevices of the rock.

'Not yet, not yet,' he controlled himself.

Now he was on her feet. His hands and tongue worked miracles on them in harmony. They were dancing on her feet. Her toes twirled to find his lips. She was writhing and screaming aloud now. Her torso was undergoing queer paroxysms.

'Oh mommy darling, mummy darling,' he moved up to the center of the universe, the garden of Aden. She made a squealing and quenching sound when his magical lips found her sweet scented pussy lips. He nuzzled in the lush growth of silken hair and sniffed the accumulated aroma. Then he gently ran his tongue along the quivering fringe of the outer lip. The pylon from which humanity experiences the universe and this side of existence for the first time.

She raised her hips to have more of him. Now he was licking the oily mouth of her opening. Now he was slurping up the most precious syrup she was producing for her darling baby. The reward for true love, awarded to the devotee from the immaculate core of feminine divine, the rejuvenating ambrosia for the devoted lips of a libidinous pilgrim.

Now he was soul kissing and making love to her erect and raging clit.

She watched him savoring the molten love oozing into his mouth. His beard and her silky shining hair down there looked alike, perfectly fusing into one.

'Oh my god, oh my darling, oh my darling,' she forcefully placed his lips on her opening. She was literally exploding. In copious quanta her nectar gushed out. He slurped them all up in an all forgetting ecstasy. Molten love From the holiest of the holy spot from a woman's body hot.

There is only one person that closes fittingly fills into the voids seen and unseen, tangible and not so tangible.

She realized that she was losing control of herself. She heard herself making strange animal sounds. She thought that she had urinated on him. Then she became a celestial music. Nothing more she remembered, it was the flowering moment of spiraling passions, the epileptic explosion of egotistic reasons.

When she came out of her delicious stupor, and fluttered back from the heavens of soft silver clouds and simpering stars, he was still softly nibbling and sniffing her down there.

'What happened to me, my precious darling?' she asked.

'You were on a brief visit to heaven, the French call it petit mort'

'thank you for the information, my linguist.'

Linguist with a natural flair, guided by the infallible hands of love.

Body cannot lie however much you try.

'God blessed me with such a son, I cannot think anything else. Now can I make love to you my way?'

"Of course.'

'I want to be on top. It is the giving position.'

Immediately he pulled out his clothes and spread himself on the bed.

'Let me see what mommy can do for her darling boy,' she got on top of him and kissed his crown. Then she inserted his full length of manhood into the paradise inside her. She was tight and perfectly enveloped him.

'Now we are one body. Now take this baby,' she inserted her nipple into his mouth. He fondled the other breast.

'Here we go.' She began to move. Her muscles possessively caressed him, silky and clammy. Shortly she was again humping like an automated machine. Her heavenly juice oozed down his member. Three more times she came before he at last deposited his life at the door step of her altar, at her cervix. They slipped into deep slumber glued to each other.

The night dragged on, crickets bragged on.

In the morning she heard birds chirping and the gentle sun peeping through the window panes. She felt relaxed and sedated. Her entire body was aglow. Vitality was rippling in her system. shortly he joined her in the bed. He began by fondling her breasts and licking at the soft golden hair along the border of her areola.

'These wonders on your body are cute indeed. So full, so ripe and so luscious,' she encouraged him with her hands.

Now his middle finger was sloshing in her flooded vagina. She was bucking again. With his lips on her nipples and finger in her holy hole, she was coming again. Immediately from nowhere he produced a glass bowl and collected the milky honey gushing out.

'It will get stale when stored or packaged. It is only for you, I do not want you to share it with anybody,' she said.

'We will see,' he grinned, 'I never knew that a mother's honey could be so delicious and rejuvenating.'

Again she gushed some more syrup. He collected that also in a sweep. Then he licked up the remnants on the sides and at the opening of her core.

Now take rest sweet angel. He patted her and retired to the kitchen.

When she emerged after her morning ablutions, he greeted her with a bowl of salad.

'Taste this and comment.'

It had an exotic taste, sweet and aromatic.

'Tastes great,' she certified.

"it is my secret recipe. The ingredients are whipped cream, plantains, grapes, pomegranate flakes, sugar and above all the most precious and rarest feed in the world, the heavenly ambrosia I collected from the paradise down there.'

She smirked.

After breakfast they retired to the bed room. Again she offered her breasts to him and they talked about many things under the sun. He answered her politely, in between nursing on her full breasts.

'Darling, I need a baby girl from you, can we do that,'

Of course. we will make a baby girl. But tell me when is your ovulation day.'

'It must be day after, if my rhythm could be relied on.'

'Then today we will make it. But I have to be on top, then another thing, nobody in the world knows we are mother and son. We can safely get married, no puritanical charlatan will raise a sanctimonious brow,' he said.

'okay, darling.'

'It has an advantage, one of these breasts will be for me when you are lactating,'

'Certainly honey. I have to make up for what you lost in your childhood.'

Mother and child is the promise of the world. Mother and boy child, however, holds the promise of a psycho-spiritual bond. They together make a complete unit, everything else becomes a cancerous foreign matter.

"This way the life of us, mortal sinners will drag on.' She said.

He guffawed, 'I liked Anatole France when he wrote that there is no sin in the world, only folly and ignorance. Also, Dostoevsky spoke out through prince Leon Nickolas Mishkin for all of us: Look Marie, nobody is a sinner, only some are unfortunate. God is on the side of the fallible, others do not need a God.'

She felt free and exonerated through imp.

'Now I want to take you to the factory.'

The house and garden was bathed in the morning sun. When she came out into the open, she noticed that the house was named as 'Anne villa'.

The factory was ten kilometers away in the valley. Men and women were busy on their job, assembling various gadgets, packing and shipping. The factory was named 'Anne's technologies.'

The employees queued up to pay their respects to the patron and real owner of the factory, Anne. She was overwhelmed.

They returned home in the afternoon. She put on a translucent gown and started her work in the kitchen. She wanted to prepare something very delicious for her son. He came to the kitchen and was happy to find her there. She was leaning on the kitchen table and peeling potatoes. He sat behind her and fondled her behind.

'I have fallen in love with these wonders globes. They are as delicious as the pair of darlings up there. Only your buttocks do not have nipples,' she laughed.

'After twenty years of Rip Van Winkling, it is my son who teaches me the miracles embedded in my anatomy.'

'Can we put a ceiling to our feeling? Feelings are animated by environmental cues, feelings are dormant in us and we need an emotional vent when feelings torment us.

Feelings for you and nostalgia for my pre-existential uterine paradise are indelibly engraved in my ineffable residual memory.'

He lifted her gown and kissed her behind. She was thoroughly enjoying the attention. His magical tongue was making love to her behind. It reached the cleft in between the glossy spheres. She opened her legs for him. His tongue reached out to her opening and savored the exotic taste. Shortly she was bolting and jerking. When she came a long string of her pure honey was hanging down. Immediately he collected it in his cupped hand. When she stood straight, Anne was flushed and weak. He slurped up the whole pool of honey into his mouth and played on it with is tongue. She turned to him with a dazed look. He went to her and shared the honey with her mouth, deeply kissing and embracing her.

That night he took her to the meadows behind the house. On a mattress he laid her down. Wetness was spreading on the soft blades of grass. Stars blinked.

'Look the stars have tears of joy in their eyes, watching us, perfect lovers.'

'If you need a baby girl, we have to make love at least one day before ovulation. Sperms with Y-chromosomes are speedy by short lived. Those with X chromosomes are tardy but long lived. It is easy to get a female child than a male child. Nature wants it that way. I will spray the seed a little away down from the cervix. I will spray and we will pray. No more fears and no more tears the days to dawn on us are lurking with'

This time also he took an eternity to worship her with his tongue and fingers. She came in his mouth twice. The moment had come. He mounted her and commenced his ritualistic pumping. Her entire body quivered in anticipation. She saw the stars. She found herself ascending the rarified heights. She reached the garden of stars. She saw her body slithering and howling under her dear son. She was happy, she was satiated. In her divine slumber she realized that her body had successfully received his seed. She felt safe, his body had encapsuled her giving her warmth and solace.