Homelands Pt. 05 Ch. 05

"Oh, that's perfect," his mother moaned as he took the other nipple gently in his mouth. "I was about to ask you to do that. You know just what Mommy needs."

Suddenly, it was as if some unseen conductor had signaled with his baton that it was time to pick up the tempo again. And his mother seemed to be expecting it.

Hoping for it, even.

His love bites left light marks in her breasts. Though he was careful not to overdo it, if anyone ever pressed their teeth against his nipples the way he did his mother's just then, he'd have cried. Meanwhile, his hands began squeezing harder and harder. One pumped her free tit and pinched her nipple while the other returned to her ass. This time, instead of spanking her, he pushed his digits past her sphincter and finger-fucked her good and hard.

"Yes, yes, yes, keep going, ungh, fuuuuck, yes," his mother moaned.

A moment later, she began to cum. And as her warm fluids leaked down the length of his cock and her energy poured into his Libido, Kurt found himself reaching another orgasm as well. Their twin climaxes lasted longer than any Kurt had ever experienced.

By the time they were done, they were both exhausted. Of course, they were also grinning from ear to ear. They laughed awkwardly while holding each other's gaze. Kurt noticed that his mother's eyes were blue again, and they'd stopped glowing.

The same was true for him, he knew. Whatever had been pushing him to fuck his mother so passionately had finally retreated.

"What exactly just happened?" he asked.

"Mommy just gave you a few nudges," she said.

"That was your doing?"

She fretted at her lower lip and nodded, looking all sweet and innocent.

Kurt laughed and kissed her nose. "Anytime you want me to do that again, just let me know." Then he added, "Or give me a nudge. Whatever."

"Mmmm. I'll keep that in mind."

They kissed again, then his mother slowly slipped out of his lap. Her legs wobbled as she stood up, but she regained her balance quickly.

He was about to get up himself and his sister sat down on top of him. "My turn," she announced, ruffling his hair. "Assuming she left me enough to work with."

All the things he'd been ignoring came rushing back all at once. Suddenly, he wasn't so sure he appreciated the way his mother had taken control of him. How, for all intents and purposes, she'd made him into a meat puppet for her to play with.

That made him want to refuse Olivia. But it wasn't his sister's fault that their mother had done what she did. And as he stared into the most beautiful face he'd ever seen, Kurt knew that he couldn't deny Liv. Even without resorting to the same supernatural shenanigans their mother had, she could turn his "no" into a "yes" in about two seconds flat.

There was something different about his sister's face, now, though. And it wasn't just that being here had turned her skin gold the way it had his.

The sparkle in her blue eyes, the sense that at any moment her luscious lips would curve into an amused grin, was gone.

A little piece of Kurt died as he realized that. It might not have been him who'd shackled his sister's once free spirit, who'd introduced her to despair, but it might as well have been. If not for him, she'd still have a father, and would have no idea what it felt like to wonder if she'd never see her brother again.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, before pressing his lips gently against hers.

The kiss gradually grew more and more intense. They nibbled at each other's lips, traded furtive tongue jabs, and moaned into each other's mouths.

When she broke away, Olivia stared down at him with her cold, blue eyes. Her chest, which was perfectly adequate in size, rose and fell as she fought for air.

For a moment, he thought his sister might ask him what he was apologizing for. But the look on her face said that it wasn't confusion over his words that held her tongue so much as the difficulty of deciding whether and how to respond.

She chose to do so with a kiss.

Kurt's heart raced faster and faster, and his already hard cock somehow managed to become further engorged. It pressed against his sister's warm, moist lips and they both shuddered. But their lips remained locked together.

His hands found their way to his sister's nipples. They were like pebbles. The perfect tips to her perfect tits. And they were, as far as he was concerned, perfect. Or near enough. He wouldn't have complained if they suddenly grew to the size of his mother's or Patty's. But he didn't want to live in a world where his sister had to feel inadequate for any reason.

Neither of them should, for that matter. They had the blood of the original immortals coursing through their veins. Only from their mother's side, but that was more than he could say of any other child of Summer.

Soon, the two of them would have to talk. About their father, for one thing. But also about their mother, and the plan she apparently had for expanding the size of their family -- a plan that both terrified and excited him. A plan he'd be quick to denounce, if his sister reacted the wrong way, yet which he very much hoped she embraced.

That was wrong. All kinds of wrong. His mother had literally taken control of him. His thoughts weren't his own anymore.

He didn't want see his mother's and his sister's bellies swell with his children. He wanted to return to Summer and see Patty's cute smile again. Maybe even hold her in his arms and slide in between her soft thighs.

As his sister guided him inside her, though, Kurt lost track of all such thoughts. She was tighter than his mother, but not so tight that it was uncomfortable for either of them. No, they fit together absolutely perfectly.

#

The ragtag force assembled on the front porch of the cabin seemed more likely to amuse any would-be attackers than intimidate them. At least, in Annie's mind. The closest any of them came to being scary was her grandfather, who'd transformed himself into a bear. But seeing as he was roaming the woods, where he'd be likely to be mistaken for an actual bear in the event that anyone saw him to begin with, that didn't really help.

Her mother was dressed all in black, wearing lots of leather. She held a sawed-off shotgun in one hand and a bowie knife in the other. If she were a bit taller and a lot leaner, she might have pulled it off. Some tattoos or piercings wouldn't hurt either. But short and curvy as she was, she looked more like a character in a role playing game dreamed up by a hormonal and undersexed teenage boy than she did the star of an action movie. Of course, it didn't help that she was constantly fidgeting and adjusting her grip on her weapons. Annie thought that there were about even odds that her mother would piss herself, shriek and run inside, or faint, in the unlikely event that there actually was a fight. The last thing she'd do is fire that shotgun at someone.

Grandma Flori wore a flowing gray dress and carried a sturdy walking stick. Or, if you wanted to be a real nerd, you could say that she wore robes and carried a staff. Like she was fucking Gandalf or something. You know, if Gandalf wore a bra so big you could wear one of the cups as a hat. And had much, much shorter hair.

For her part, Annie had decided to go ahead and make a true farce of it. It was all a joke anyway, so it might as well be a good one. Her grandmother had given her an old six-shooter, which was apparently not just a family heirloom but a magical relic or some shit. The first part was easy enough to believe, but she wasn't quite sure what to make of the second. At any rate, since Annie'd got her gun, she decided to rock a pair of black cowgirl boots, pink fishnet thigh-highs, an absurdly tight denim miniskirt, a black leather vest that was also a few sizes too small, and a pink cowgirl hat. If her mother looked like some neckbeard's RPG character, Annie looked like she was gearing up to model for one of those cheesy "girls in uniforms" calendars or something.

Who were they kidding, anyway?

The king wouldn't come himself. He'd send his enforcer.

Her father.

And her father had promised Annie that no one would get hurt. Some of them might have to go into exile before it was all over, he'd said, but nothing worse than that. The antique she wore safely holstered on her hip could just as well go back to looking old and rare and pretty in the satin-lined wooden box that sat atop the fireplace, and her mother and grandmother could leave the cosplay to girls who'd graduated college a few years ago and desperately longed to recapture the days when guys stared at them lustfully.

The sun was starting to set when her father finally came strolling down the dirt path.

He was alone, and hardly dressed for war. He wore a pair of jeans, a black T-shirt, and his bowler hat, and he carried that polished black cane that he didn't need. He bore no weapons and wore no costumes. It was just plain old Hank who'd come before them.

Annie heard her mother breathe a sigh of relief.

"Don't let your guard down yet," her grandmother said. "That man doesn't need any backup to cause plenty of trouble."

"Preaching to the choir there, ma," her mother said. "But I'd still rather face him alone than both him and a whole bunch of Bravos."

A quick glance out of the corner of Annie's eye confirmed that her mother had stopped fidgeting. If anything, the look on her face said that she actually hoped she'd get an excuse to do what she'd wanted to do for many years. She could almost see the mental picture in her mother's head of that knife cutting Hank's penis off.

"Let me talk to him," Annie said.

Before either of the other women could react, she hopped down off the porch.

"Annie, honey, what are you doing?" her mother called after her.

"Let her go, dear," her grandmother said. "I had a feeling this was coming."

"You did?" her mother asked.

Annie was wondering the same thing.

But, then, it shouldn't have surprised her. Grandma Flori seemed to know everything. She'd been around the block a few times. And she'd taught Nick a thing or two about reading Libidos, or something along those lines, just in the short while that he'd been around. If Nick, who had a knack for that kind of thing, could learn as much from her as quickly as he did, then she had to be a real expert on the topic. How hard could it have been for her to sense that Annie had a real thing for her father? She'd been getting hot and bothered at the mere thought of seeing him again most of the damn day.

For the final few paces, Annie held her hands over her hips and took slow, bow-legged steps. "We meet again, pardner," she said in her deepest voice.

Her father offered her a faint grin. "Nice getup. That for me?"

"Reckon it is," she said, touching the brim of her hat.

"Lookin' good."

Annie tried not to smile, but couldn't stop herself. At least she didn't blush. Much.

She was looking good, truth be told. Annie didn't always like the way things looked on her. But the silly little costume made her feel frisky and fun and sexy. It was goofy and playful and deliciously skanky. Almost nothing was left to the imagination. If he hadn't noticed, her heart would have burst.

"The king send you?" she asked, dropping her horrible attempt at a proper accent.

"You're looking at him."

It took a moment for that to sink in. Then Annie shrieked, hopped up and down and clapped her hands, before throwing herself at her father.

He laughed as he hugged her tight against his hard chest. When he took her hat off so he could smell her hair and kiss the top of her head, Annie's knees buckled.

"What about Kurt and Patty?" she asked, leaning back to look up at his gorgeous emerald eyes and his handsome face.

"I don't know," he said. "Phil didn't give us a chance to interrogate him."

"But-" Annie began.

"Not now. I'll explain it all later. Okay?"

She nodded.

He kissed her forehead, put an arm around her shoulder, placed her hat back on her head, and led her back towards the cabin. His former wife eyed him warily as they approached, making a show of bouncing the sawed-off against her shoulder. Grandma Flori, on the other hand, actually smiled at him.

Granted, it was clear to Annie that it was completely forced. And presumably that was clear to her father as well. But still a warmer welcome than her mother's.

Or maybe she sensed that her father had the same feelings for her as she did for him. Could that little grin have been one of approval?

Annie's heart fluttered.

"House Bravo no longer rules the First Court of Summer," he announced.

"Does House Fisher now have that honor?" Grandma Flori asked.

"It does," Hank said.

Annie's mother rolled her eyes. "Fan-fucking-tastic."

"Jenny," her father said, tipping the brim of his hat to her. "Always lovely to see you."

"Bite me," she said back, avoiding his gaze.

"So you've developed a taste for kink since we were together?"

Annie fought the urge to giggle at that.

"Anyway," he said, turning back to Annie's grandmother, "as far as I'm concerned, you and yours have done nothing to involve yourselves in court affairs. You're more than welcome to reenter the court, of course. I can't say I'd mind having you kiss my feet. But, otherwise, this is the last time I'll set foot on your property."

Annie's mother narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, but she held her tongue.

For her part, Grandma Flori drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly before saying, "I sense a `but' coming."

"Not at all," her father said. "No conditions or qualifications or fine print. Just wanted to tell you in person." The arm around Annie's shoulder tightened its grip. "And see my darling daughter, of course."

"He always was so good about letting you know when he was going to fuck you over royally," Annie's mother said. Then, turning to face the father of her children, she added, "I can't imagine how pleased you must be to have the chance to start doing that literally."

"I'd like to have Annie here as my guest for the night," he said, as if completely oblivious to her words. "She's a grown woman, so I'd like to think you'd leave the choice up to her, but I'm sure we'd all feel better about it if she had your blessing."

Annie's breath caught.

As exciting as it had been to sneak out of the cabin for a secret midnight rendezvous with her father, wondering the whole time about how freaked out her grandfather and Veronica must have been, it would be nice to be his royal guest. To allow the whole court to know that he was courting her, so to speak. To be his lover, openly, rather than his secret mistress. To spend the night in his arms and wake up beside him.

It was a good thing he had an arm around her. She might have fallen over otherwise.

"You son of-" her mother began.

The rest of what she had to say never came out. Grandma Flori held up a hand to silence her, and silence her it did.

"As you say, she's a grown woman," Annie's grandmother said. Turning to Annie, she added, "Honey, your free to do as you please. With my blessing, but also a healthy dose of warning." A bemused grin spread across her face. "But you're not going to heed that anyway, so I'll just go on the record as having said you're walking down a dangerous path and leave it at that." Her eyes returned to Hank. "As for you, Your Majesty, I believe House Hardt will be rejoining the court after all."

The threat underlying her grandmother's words might have gone unspoken, but it certainly did not go unnoticed.

Even Annie understood that her grandmother was declaring that she was no longer a neutral party. That she was taking official interest in the king's conduct.

For a moment, her father was speechless.

Annie still didn't know him that well, as it appeared her mother and grandmother were keenly aware, but she still never would have thought she'd live to see the day when her father would find himself at a loss for words. She wouldn't say he looked bothered by her grandmother's announcement. Nor afraid. But the look on his face forever tarnished, if only a little, the image in Annie's mind of a man who was completely unflappable.

Perhaps that should have made Annie question the wisdom of accepting her father's invitation. But, if anything, it only made her feel safer doing so. If her father was the monster that her mother so clearly believed him to be, he wouldn't even have blinked at her grandmother's words. And if he was as awed by Flori as it seemed he was, then he obviously wouldn't try anything with Annie that she wouldn't want him to do.

"Delighted to hear it," her father said, in his most charming voice.

If he'd said those very words, the way he'd said them, without first having paused for a few moments, Annie might well have believed that he was delighted.

Just then, her grandfather emerged from the woods. He transformed back from bear to man as he approached. Once returned to human form, he said, "My wife might be classy enough to leave certain things unsaid, but I've never been anything but a country bumpkin. Harm a hair on my granddaughter's head and I'll feast on your intestines."

"That goes double for me," Annie's mother said. "Minus the intestines part," she added with a frown. "But I'll do something horrible to you if you hurt her, even emotionally."

Annie wrapped an arm around her father's waist. "Look, guys, I appreciate the concern. But could we maybe back off now?" She looked up at her father's gorgeous green eyes. "He'd never do anything to hurt me. Right, Daddy?"

He smiled back at her. "That's right, princess."