Divine Intervention at a Supermarket Ch. 04

Chapter 4 - Clara's Cloudy Sky Clears

"Oh, I'm sorry," Clara said. She hurried to dry her eye only to find that there were just too many tears. "I shouldn't be crying in a supermarket. It's a pretty terrible place to have a breakdown, isn't it?"

"Yes, but I understand that it's a very common place to have one," the man said.

She laughed. Finally clearing her bleary eyes, she looked at the stranger. He was BLUE in the same ways that the Red Woman was RED. "Oh! Do you know the redhead that I was just talking to?" she said.

"My sister," the Blue Man said. "I apologize if she overwhelmed you — she's feeling unusually harsh today, and I intend to determine the reason for her mood. In the meantime, why don't you tell me, in your own words, what's bothering you?" He waved his hand like the Red Woman did.

"Oh, it's nothing," she said. "My son just started raping me a couple of months ago. Not only did I not try to stop it, I absolutely loved it, so now I'm going to let him do it again ... and again ... and again. Hopefully, if I hurry home, he'll do it as soon as I get back."

Why did she tell this stranger all of that? It had been a shameful secret, but at least it had been a secret!

"It must be difficult to live with a hidden shame like that," the Blue Man said. "Is John the only person that you have to confide in?"

She didn't notice that the Blue Man knew her son's name. "No, I have friends, but I haven't had time for them since John started fucking me, and I'm definitely not going to tell them about it. And there's my sister, Emilia, but she'd be so disgusted with me! For years, I've been telling her to start a family, with or without a man. I told her that I wanted to have some nieces and nephews, and it's unbelievably fulfilling to have a child ... but look how my relationship with my own son turned out."

"Yes, I can see how it's been changed."

"I'm a horrible mother, and my son makes me feel so ... so despicable!"

"Don't punish yourself for what has happened, Clara. The cosmos works in mysterious ways. Fate can seem cruel, and humans are ... limited. They don't always understand what's really happening."

"God, I wish it was just some misunderstanding! I wish I had a son I could talk to and be proud of again!"

He smiled and waved his hand. "But isn't it amazing — the way that one, little misunderstanding helped the two of you learn exactly what you needed?"

Clara smiled, proud that her son knew what he wanted and was brave enough to pursue it. What he did for her was so sweet that it made her want to cry again. He made her feel so treasured that it left her overflowing with joy.

But ... wasn't she ashamed of him just a moment ago? And ashamed of herself? She tried to remember ...

Three months ago, she was lonely and frustrated. As proud as she was of John, there were some things that a son just can't give his mother. He had his own affairs to pursue, and it was natural that he would spend less and less time with her and more time with the teenage bimbos that surrounded him.

Fortunately, her sister recommended a novel to her — "Conquered by the Trillionaire Highland Vampire" — and it awakened a need in her that she'd always denied. She began to explore a new genre of fiction, full of gruff, hardened men who took what they wanted from women ... and gave back even more! At the beginning of the stories, they often behaved harshly, but they were passionate and intense, and they provided a retreat from Clara's dull, sexless life as a single mother.

Given the number of the books that she devoured in such a short time, it was inevitable that John would stumble across them around the house. What surprised her was the interest that he took in them. Before she knew it, he'd read a couple of them, and he asked her, "Why do you love this kind of books so much? I thought they were only for helpless women who want a macho man to rescue them, but ... you've got your life together. You obviously don't need rescuing."

"I ... I wouldn't say that I love them, baby," she told him. "They're just fiction, after all — they don't really matter. They don't change reality. Still, there's a part of women that wants a man like that — a man who knows what he wants and won't let anything stand in his way. There are things that a woman can't ask for, so it's nice to imagine a man who will take the lead and give you what you need."

She realized that she was probably being too candid with her son, so she quickly tried to turn it into a lesson. "That's probably good for you to consider when you're dealing with the women in your life," she said. "Be decisive — don't be wishy-washy."

Fortunately, he let the matter drop, and she was able to continue to enjoy rugged, aggressive men safely enclosed between the covers of her novels. That took the edge off of her lack of a sex life ... well, that and masturbation, of course, so she usually took advantage of an empty house to indulge in a little "me time" with her vibrator.

That's what she was doing one day two months ago after she arrived home from work early feeling particularly frustrated. "Oh baby, I want you," she moaned, thinking that she was all alone in the house. "Yeah, that's it — come to momma! Give me what I need!"

It was right about then that she happened to open her eyes and spot John standing in her bedroom doorway. He'd just come back from the gym, and his sweaty muscles bulged beneath his tank top and shorts.

John's eyes smouldered intensely, but she initially thought that he was angry or with her, or disgusted. The vibrator buzzed obnoxiously as her mouth struggled to form the words to defuse the situation, but she could make no command, or apology, or justification. Neither could she find the wherewithal to conceal her nudity before John made his own move.

In an instant, he was at the foot of her bed. An instant later, his tank top was gone, and then his shorts. His cock was standing tall and hard when he took hold of her thighs and aligned it with the entrance to her sex. "Is this what you want?" he said before entering her with a single stroke.

The experience of being taken by her own son was passionate and intense. He thrusted into her again and again, and an orgasm drowned her brain in endorphins immediately before he ejaculated inside of her.

Panting, John rolled onto his back beside her, and the two lay there for a minute or two in the afterglow. Before long, however, she had caught her breath and regained her senses. She became aware that she was covered in sweat and other fluids — his and hers — and she wanted to warm up under the covers, but she was afraid to even move. She knew that she should say something, but what could she say?

It had been the best sex of her life, but her son had crossed every possible boundary. How could she ever look at him the same way again?

Finally, John broke the silence: "Whew! Sorry I waited so long, mom. You must think I'm pretty wishy-washy."

"I ..." Clara wasn't sure that she'd heard him correctly. "... I must ... what?!"

"You've been sending me so many signs that you needed me to take the lead and give you what you need," he said, "and I just kept you hanging. And it wasn't because I didn't want to do it! Not at all — you're really sexy, mom! I just didn't believe that I could be so lucky that you'd be attracted to me too!"

"Hold on!" she said, sitting up. She had almost forgotten that she was naked, but his eyes fixed on her jiggling, sweaty breasts, so she finally grabbed a sheet and pulled it over herself. "Signs? What signs was I sending?!"

"Well, you've been leaving those books all over the house, and, when I asked you about it, you explained everything. I really appreciated that, and I definitely listened, but I didn't know if I should actually make a move. I guess I was letting too much stand in my way — the 'rules' about situations like this, what people would think about us if they found out. I'm sorry I made you have to ask for it like that. I wanted to do it, but —"

"'Ask for it'?!"

He smiled. "Yeah ..." he said, lowering his voice. "'Come to momma'? 'Give me what I need' ...? That was super-hot, by the way. I don't want to make you ask for it again, but ... let's just say that you can talk like that whenever you want, and you'll get my attention!"

"Oh, God!" Clara said, rubbing her eyes — it was all her fault! "Listen, baby: this was all a big misunderstanding! I didn't mean to send you those signs. I'm so sorry to make you think you had to do this! I am not sexy, and you are not attracted to me! I'm your mother, and I'm an old woman! An old, fat, old ... stupid woman!"

"But —"

"And ... and don't just barge in here, even if the door is open! This is my private space, where I ... do private things!"

He went pale. "Then ... you weren't telling me to ..."

"Baby, it is not your fault! Don't blame yourself, blame me. In fact ... let's not blame anyone! Let's forget that this ever happened. Let's just get dressed, and I'll make something for supper. Hamburgers? They're your favorite, right?"

"... Yeah."

"Great! So, just leave me to get dressed, and we'll forget everything. Nothing happened!"

"... Okay," he said, sliding out of bed. He slid off of her bed, gathered his clothes, and left the room. She realized that the vibrator was still buzzing on the floor as she watched her son's naked ass disappear into his own bedroom.

That image — and the sight of her naked son on top of her, fucking her with a passion — blazed in her mind as she dressed and cooked, but she promised herself that she would forget about all of that before the next time that she masturbated.

It sounded like an empty promise even in her own head.

For the next few days, she did her best to drown all memory of the incident, but arousing images and delicious sensations sizzled to the surface almost constantly. Perhaps she did need exactly the kind of fucking that John had given her, but it was out of her system now, she told herself. It was out of both of their systems.

Her pretensions didn't last long. A few days later, she came home in the evening with a huge box full of paperwork and attempted to wrestle it out of her car and into the house. It was a struggle, however, and she was relieved when John arrived and carried it inside for her. His muscles bulged as he set the box on the floor, and she looked away so that her eyes couldn't linger on what she couldn't have.

"Thanks, baby! I think Phil, the security guard, practically broke his back putting that thing in my car. I was stupid to think I could manage it by myself," she said, closing the door behind them.

She turned to find him inches away, and the memory of his naked body looming over her flashed through her mind.

He stroked her cheek. "Stop saying that you're stupid," he said softly. "You're smart ... and beautiful ... and sexy ..."

He leaned closer, and she recognized the need burning behind his eyes. Not only did she see it during "the incident", but it had kindled inside of her too.

"Honey, we don't need to do this," she said, putting her hands on his chest. The plan was to hold him back, but she found herself stroking his pecs. "We got this out of our system ... right?"

"I think there's a lot we didn't get out of our systems," John said, taking her in his arms. "For example ... I didn't get to do this ..."

He kissed her, and the fire flared dangerously in her heart. It took so much of her will to fight it that she didn't resist when his tongue entered her mouth, but then she regained control and broke the kiss. She twisted away, but she was still in his embrace and her will was melting away.

"I'm so fat and old," she said. "You should find a girl your own age ..."

"But I love your body," he breathed into her ear, and his hands found her breasts. "Especially these beautiful tits! They're so big and soft!"

Her body must have remembered that overwhelming orgasm that he'd given her the first time, because it reacted immediately. Her nipples hardened between his fingers as she writhed in his embrace. Her bum brushed and rubbed against John's cock, and she felt it harden too. He wasn't lying: her body really did turn him on.

"Honey, this isn't right," she said, her voice breathy with arousal. "I'm your mother ... you shouldn't want to touch me like this ..."

"But I don't just love your tits, mom," he said as his hands traveled down her belly and unbuttoned her slacks. They took hold of her waistband and tugged her clothes, including her panties, over her hips and down her thighs. "Your big ass looks so squeezable! I don't know how I've kept my hands off of it up to this point!"

His hands caressed and kneaded her naked bum, and he nibbled on her neck for good measure.

The assault on her weak spots crushed her ability to resist. "Ahhhh!" she cried helplessly. "Baby, no! We have to get ahold of ourselves! You're making me so hot!"

Without warning, he released her, and she fell to her hands and knees, her gathered pants padding the impact. She immediately missed his touch, and she arched her back and pushed out her ass hoping that he would take the invitation.

"You say that I don't understand the signs that you're sending, mom," John said, "but what am I supposed to think when you get on all fours and present your wet pussy to me?"

Clara heard the rustle of clothing, and she risked a glance over her shoulder. John had shucked his own pants, and his cock stood erect, hard and straight.

As soon as she saw it, she knew that she needed it. "Just one more time — okay, baby?"

He knelt behind her, and she felt his shaft pressing into her sex.

She crouched her lower to give him a better angle. "You need to find a girl your own age," she said. "And, if we keep doing this ... I won't be able to —"

He thrusted into her.

"— AH — stop!"

He fucked her there, doggy-style on the floor of the entryway. She could hear people on the other side of the door, walking their dogs and laughing. By the time that she orgasmed, she'd begged him over a dozen times not to stop.

Fortunately, he didn't. Over the next few weeks, she realized that they still had a lot of things to get out of their systems.

She began wearing fewer and fewer clothes around the house, which provoked John to molest her more and more often, and she loved the appreciative stares that he gave her even when they weren't touching. She still made a point of reminding him that it was wrong, that he should find a younger, thinner girl, but that didn't even slow him down. The only thing that it seemed to do was make him hotter — more excited — and she too enjoyed the reminder that it was her that he wanted.

They became fixated on each other, no longer going out to get-togethers with friends or dates. And why should they? They were still mother and son, but they were also a couple. John was her boyfriend, and Clara was his girlfriend. He was sexy and supportive, and she was profoundly grateful to have raised a man like him.

The only problem was that John took her order to stay out of her bedroom to heart. She wanted to be with him as much as possible, but he still regarded it as her private space, and he left her to sleep alone.

When the pandemic hit and the government advised that its citizens shelter in place, Clara had no fear that her son would stay home and make love to her over and over again, but it also gave her an idea.

She invited her sister, Emilia, to "shelter in place" with them ... in John's room. That way, he would finally take his place in her bed, and he could be the first thing that she saw every day and the last thing that she saw before falling asleep.

The arrangement provoked some bewilderment, but Clara was able to convince both her son and her sister that it was for the best.

It was almost perfect. She was able to enjoy her son's lusty gaze every time that she stripped before bed, and they invariably made love and fell asleep cuddled tightly together. She was able to begin every day naked in her son's arms with his semen still inside of her.

The only drawback was that Emilia was already a little suspicious, so Clara and John couldn't be very affectionate in front of her, but that was a small price to pay for basically becoming her son's wife.

Reflecting on her situation in the grocery store, Clara couldn't stop smiling like a madwoman. She was lucky that the Blue Man seemed so understanding.

After all, when she had cried and told him that she was ashamed of John, he understood, even though she couldn't remember why she would ever feel anything but pride for her son.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I was really confused there, but I was crying because my son is so good to me, not because I'm ashamed of him or anything. That would be silly."

Why did she tell him that she was ashamed anyway? A storm had nearly receded past the edge of her horizon, a vision of John treating her with rough and silent contempt. It made her feel defiled and worthless. That was ridiculous though — John always made her feel more cherished than she'd ever felt before.

There was another cold cloud in her sky, a hazy recollection of a time when she and John weren't lovers, weren't even attracted to each other. She was happy to let it drift away too — that wasn't a life that she would ever want to live.

"I'm glad to hear it," the Blue Man said. "For now, you should resume your shopping. However, I warn you: you will suffer my sister's wrath one more time before the day is done, and it will change you and your family. Do not fear — no matter how troubling your tidings may seem, I will deliver you from evil ... and my sister will help."