Homelands Pt. 07 Ch. 06

There was therefore no one to blame but himself for what came next.

His fingers brushed her corset and it shattered like glass. A thousand shards of shadow fell away harmlessly, leaving her in nothing but her boots and the fishnet body stocking. That, he'd rip holes in where necessary, but otherwise, he hoped she'd keep. It looked good on her. Maybe even more so now that her skin was green.

They kissed for a third time, and the rush that went through Cahill's body was only slightly less intense than it had been the last time. His hands roamed across her body, delighting in her feminine curves. The color of her skin might have changed, but it was no less soft or pleasant to touch. Her hips could have been fuller, her ass larger, but there was no denying that was put together quite nicely.

"Lost your costume, huh?" his aunt asked after they finally came up for air.

"You just noticed?"

Her fingers slowly traveled over his abs. "Nooo. But I-"

He didn't let her finish. By the time their lips parted, he had her on her back and his clothes had ceased to exist.

"Yes, yes, give it to me, Kay," Oona panted, wrapping her thighs around him.

And he did just that.

Though Cahill didn't let his aunt distract him for quite as long as his sisters had, neither did he rush things. After fucking her fast and hard, he slowed things down a lot. Her beautiful pussy got all the attention it deserved from his mouth and fingers, as did her big breasts and her tight little balloon knot. He guided her through several orgasms before letting her feel his thick dick inside her again. And again, and again.

#

After walking the yellow brick road alone for a good ten minutes, Cahill came across Reilly. His cousin still had his costume on.

Or had donned it once again. After getting busy with Caronwyn.

He suppressed a shutter at the thought.

"Where's your hat?" Reilly asked by way of greeting.

Cahill grunted. He looked the redheaded brute up and down. The outfit ought to have made him look intimidating, but he actually looked pretty ridiculous.

"Your mother's looking for you," he said.

"Funny. Yours too," Reilly said, a wicked grin splitting his green skin. "Actually...no, she's not. Seems to be enjoying herself just fine without you, in fact."

It took some effort not to break his cousin's nose.

Reilly laughed and clapped Cahill on the shoulder. "Don't worry. I'm sure she'll tire of Gallech eventually. Or maybe your brother will remember that he's more interested in women who are actually attractive."

"Fuck you," Cahill said. He jabbed an elbow into the guy's bare ribs, but not too hard. Just enough to convince him to stop with the taunts without provoking him to make something of it. "If your mother was half as hot, you'd never leave her side."

Of course, he hardly ever did, and Cahill was well aware of it. But he didn't believe for a second that his cousin didn't find his aunt Caronwyn attractive. No man with even the slightest interest in women could resist her.

"So I see we've dispensed with the notion that you're only interested in your sisters?" Reilly asked, grinning from ear to ear. "I wonder how our prince would react if he knew where you were headed."

Time seemed to slow down. Cahill's senses grew sharper. He became keenly aware of the soft breeze stirring the leaves all around them and the warmth of the sun reflected off the golden brick below them. The smell of sweat and sex on his cousin made him nauseous, as did the pompous look on Reilly's green face.

"Why would he care?" Cahill asked slowly.

"Riiight," Reilly replied with a knowing smile. "Anyway, have fun. My lips are sealed," he added before heading off down the road.

Cahill stood there, seething. His cousin hadn't come right out and said it, but he might as well have confessed that Gallech had gone to their father to tell him how much time Cahill was spending with their mother. That had been the real reason for the sudden visit the night before. That Cahill had come away from the exchange owed a major boon didn't change the fact that his brother had betrayed him. Gallech couldn't have known it would go down like that. He didn't know about the flute, after all. Not even their mother did. No, his brother had fully expected the prince to punish Cahill. Or at least to threaten to do so, should Cahill refuse to keep his distance from Caronwyn.

The little shit.

With violent determination, Cahill resumed his journey. Only this time, he didn't jog, but moved at a full sprint. The ground fell away behind him, brick after brick of gold whizzing past in the blink of an eye.

A few minutes later, he caught sight of them. They were on the grass just off to the side of the road. His brother was lying atop their mother, pumping his pathetic little manhood in and out of her gleefully. When he heard the footfalls approaching, Gallech looked up. Brown eyes went wide with panic and he rolled off Caronwyn. He only sat flat on his ass for a moment before clambering to his feet and bolting off in the opposite direction.

Somehow, Cahill found a way to pick up his pace. He'd thought he was been running as fast as he could already. But the sight of his brother fleeing from him, thereby providing all the admission of guilt Cahill could require, helped him to discover new limits.

"Wait! Kay!" their mother called as Cahill whizzed past her.

He hoped that would be the last time he ever ignored her like that. But no part of him so much as considered slowing down. Short as his older brother was, the fucker could move. Cahill was gaining ground on him fast, but even so, it looked like Gallech might get away.

As luck would have it, his brother remembered that he was still transformed. That he could fly. Feathery wings began pumping furiously, and Gallech's feet left the ground.

Cahill leapt into the air.

For a split second, he thought it might be too late. His brother was climbing higher by the second, and he was pretty far ahead of Cahill. But his hands wrapped around his brother's ankles and a sense of triumph swelled within him.

And then they hit the ground.

The air went out of Cahill's lungs. Everything went black for a moment, and when his vision returned, it was filled with spots. He gasped and coughed, forgetting all about his brother as pain temporarily became the entirety of his existence.

Slowly, though, his faculties returned. And, fortunately enough, his brother was a little slower to recover. Cahill climbed atop Gallech's back, kneeling on his wings, and put his older brother in a headlock.

"Geh la fug offa me," Gallech managed through gritted teeth.

"You went to him," Cahill said. "You petty fuck. Why?"

"Fuck you!"

Cahill arched his back, bending his brother's neck in an unnatural way as he did. A pained groan escaped Gallech's lips. "WHY?"

His brother didn't reply. Just fought to break free of the headlock. He failed, but it was a valiant effort. Tall, Gallech wasn't, but he was strong.

Suddenly, the struggle stopped.

"Let me up," Gallech said in a voice that was almost calm.

Cahill hesitated. The sudden change was disarming. Perhaps he saw the futility of trying to escape. Then again, it could just as easily be a ploy. He'd never known his brother to be particularly cunning, but the guy's head wasn't exactly filled with rocks either.

"I won't run," Gallech added.

"Course not," Cahill replied. "Why do that when you can fly?"

"I mean I won't go anywhere, you dumb fuck."

Despite himself, Cahill laughed at that. So headstrong was his brother that he couldn't even bring himself to beg properly.

He didn't trust the prick, but he didn't need to keep sitting on him either. With a flick of his wrists, Cahill bound his brother's wrists and ankles in shackles. Thick chains tethered the irons to steel rungs in the road. Certain that Gallech wouldn't be going anywhere in a hurry, Cahill climbed off his brother's back and rose to his feet.

With pure hatred in his eyes, Gallech looked up at Cahill. Slowly, he too rose to his feet. He gave his chains a rattle, but the feeble gesture was more symbolic than anything.

"What are you going to do with me?" his older brother asked.

Cahill sighed. "Just answer my fucking question. Why'd you do it?"

"Because fuck you. That's why."

"You can't make her love you," Cahill said.

"Love?" his brother asked, filling the word with contempt and disgust. "Who said anything about love? Don't tell me that's what you're after? You know that's not how it works here. You're not in the Dreaming anymore, little brother."

Cahill didn't reply.

"What did he threaten you with, anyway?" Gallech asked, with a hint of something very much like sympathy in his voice. He was probably only asking out of curiosity, but he feigned the rest remarkably well. "Our father?"

"Nothing."

"Fine. Don't tell me," Gallech replied.

"You're fucking pathetic, you know that?" Cahill said. The chains and irons disappeared. "Get out of my sight."

His brother stared back at him, looking uncharacteristically meek. Then, without another word, he turned and leapt to the sky.

#

"I should probably be flattered," his mother said when he returned to her. "But that little display wasn't nearly as endearing as you might have thought it was."

Cahill drew a deep breath. Though she wore her full costume once more, he didn't see Caronwyn the Good Witch when he looked at her. The bright pink heels and layered pink skirts weren't registering. Nor were her white stockings or striped corset. The wand and crown, gloves and epaulets, all of it, might as well not have existed. All he saw was a woman lying flat on her back, buck naked, getting reamed by his brother.

And absolutely loving it.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, because it felt like he should.

She looked him up and down, frowning. "What am I going to do with you, Kay?"

He shrugged.

"Come here," she said, beckoning him forth with a jerk of her head. When he drew up near her, she hugged him tight, resting her cheek against his chest. "I love you, sweetie."

Cahill froze.

"Just as I love all my boys," she added.

The world fell to pieces.

But she couldn't have meant it. She was looking him dead in the eye now, and the look on her face said she was as serious as could be, but her Libido told a very different story. Had been doing so for some time. They weren't supposed to say such things aloud. She wouldn't allow herself to tell him the truth. That was all it was. There was no way she had the very same feelings for him that she did for Gallech.

Again, the sight of her full thighs wrapped around his brother's back flashed across his mind's eye. He saw her red nails digging into his brother's blue flesh. Heard her sighing and moaning. Saw her full red lips nibbling at his ears.

And it excited him.

That wasn't all it did. Mostly, it made him feel nauseous. But little Cahill was stirring at the memory. No question about it.

Having her huge, soft breasts pressed against him wasn't the reason either. Nor was the smell of her hair or the buzz in her Libido. It was the thought of Gallech giving it to her good, and the fear that she'd enjoyed it thoroughly.

"You want me to say that he forced himself on me? That I don't enjoy it?" she asked.

Cahill's powerful muscles tensed for a brief moment. He forced himself to release the tension as quickly as he noticed the involuntary reaction. But he didn't do so quickly enough. Another woman might not have noticed, but his mother's mouth tightened almost imperceptibly in disapproval of his jealousy.

"We fuck so much lately, baby. Besides Oona, your brother doesn't fuck anyone else. He wants it all the time. And you know what? I'd be lying if I said I had a problem with that."

That time, he didn't react. Not physically, anyway. She'd notice the way his Libido went still as a frozen pond, of course. He couldn't help that. But Cahill was proud of the fact that his body, at least, did not betray him.

"Are you going to tell me that I'm the only one you're interested in?" she continued. "That you had such a hard time feigning interest in your sisters?"

"I get it," Cahill said.

"Do you?"

"Yeah, I do," he said. Stroking her beautiful red hair, he added, "Things work differently here. I'm not in the Dreaming anymore."

"No, you're not," his mother said.

"We're not...you and I don't...," he tried to finish the thought, but to even say that certain things weren't true was to admit that the possibility had occurred to him.

His mother nodded.

And yet, the air didn't crackle with energy when he stood in Fiona's presence. Oona's Libido didn't pulse in time with his. Brittany didn't look as though she had to remind herself to breathe whenever Cahill was around, nor did she cause his lungs to cease functioning.

"Doesn't mean that what we have isn't special," she said, as if reading his thoughts.

"Of course not," Cahill said, as if he hadn't thought his mother was saying precisely that.

She gave him a knowing smile. Then, taking his hand in hers, she lead him over to the side of the road. The fattest, juiciest, ripest strawberries he'd ever seen grew there. His mother plucked one off a runner.

Turning back to him, she slowly raised the fruit to her red, red lips. Brown eyes held regarded him flatly, unblinking, noting his sharp intake of breath. Cahill's body tensed up as his mother's plump lips parted and the strawberry slid past them. Just as he was sure she was going to bite it in half, the fruit retreated. The tip of her tongue appeared and worked tip of the strawberry a few times, the way it did when she licked away his pre-cum. That made Cahill shudder. And when his mother finally did sink her impossibly white teeth into the red fruit, his shudder turned into a spasm.

"Here," she said, wedging the other half of the fruit into his mouth.

Before he could bite down, she pressed her mouth to his. They finished the strawberry together, their lips coming together in a soft kiss as they did.

Never in his life had Cahill tasted anything so sweet.

And the fruit was pretty good too.

When their lips parted, he gasped for air. His whole body tingled. It took him a moment to remember that he was standing on solid ground rather than floating on thin air.

"The other day, he asked me if I plan on having any more children," his mother said casually, as if the conversation hadn't been interrupted by the most magical of kisses.

It took Cahill a few moments to remember what they were talking about. Who they were talking about.

"He what?"

"I know!" his mother said. "Obviously he couldn't have meant that, but still."

Gallech wanted...no, his mother was right. That couldn't have been what his brother had meant. Not with her. More likely, he'd known that their mother would tell Cahill about it, and how his younger brother would react to the news.

Even so, it made his blood boil.

"What did you say?" Cahill asked, trying to sound disinterested.

His mother gave him a sly grin. "What do you think I said?" Before he could answer what was apparently a rhetorical question, she added, "Of course not. Soon enough, you all will be making a grandmother out of me. Why would I want any more children of my own?"

Why indeed.

"Besides," she said, snatching up another strawberry, "it's not like your father has been dying to get back between my legs."

Right. His father. The good prince. Who else?

Her pearly whites rent the glistening flesh. Then, as before, she offered him the rest. This time, though, she popped it into his mouth without pressing her luscious lips to his. Which probably should have kept him from swooning. Still, a shiver ran down his spine.

He'd never realized how tantalizing it could be to watch his mother eat fruit. To have her share her strawberry with him in a literal sense.

"I do find other women attractive," Cahill said after he swallowed the remnants of the strawberry. "But not the way I do you." Her lips tightened and she started to protest. Before she could, he pulled her against him. He gave his mother's fat ass a good squeeze, silencing her. "I'm not saying we shouldn't play by the rules."

"No?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice. "So what are you saying?"

"I don't know," Cahill replied.

"Hmm," his mother said. One slender finger ran up his sternum. "So you don't think Mommy's breasts are too big?"

Cahill snorted derisively.

"My red hair doesn't bother you?"

"Are you kidding?" he asked. "It's beautiful."

Her finger made its way to his face. The light-as-a-feather touch could not have been more titillating. "But you must think my ass is too big? My thighs too full? Right?"

"If your sister had a lower body like yours, she might have had a shot at convincing me to join her fan club," Cahill replied. "Probably not, but it wouldn't have hurt her chances."

As his mother's one finger raked across his scalp, bolts of ecstasy shot through his body. He wanted nothing more than to rip all of her clothes off and prove to her just how much he cherished every inch of her divine form, but he sensed that she wasn't done yet.

"Speaking of fan clubs," his mother said playfully, "no one seems to mind that she's got such a tight little ass or such long, slender legs."

"And some men like men," Cahill said. "Nothing wrong with that. But it ain't for me."

"What if your mother's pussy lips were a little more modest? You'd like that, wouldn't you? And I know you wouldn't complain if I went bald."

The hand on his mother's ass slid down, beneath the hem of her skirts, and slipped past a soft buttock to her womanhood. The tips of his fingers brushed her swollen labia. Now it was her turn to take a deep breath and shudder softly.

"Not at all." His hand retreated, pausing to give her soft ass a good squeeze before withdrawing entirely and allowing her skirts to fall back into place. "Women who remind me of little girls don't do a whole lot for me."

"I always wanted green eyes," his mother said. She teased the nape of his neck lightly with her fingernail. "Don't you think Fiona's are gorgeous?"

"They suit her, since she's a brunette," he said.

"What's that got to do with it?" his mother asked.

"Brunettes tend to have brown eyes," Cahill replied. "Redheads lighter ones. If she had your eyes, or you hers, it'd be predictable. Boring." He cleared his throat. "I've got to say, though, Fiona gives amazing head."

The hand resting on his neck delivered a swift smack. But the smile on his mother's lips told him that she recognized the joke for what it was.

Not that what he said wasn't true. But the implication that Fiona's oral skills were any better than their mother's was pure jest.

"Perhaps you can give me a few pointers then?" she asked, going to her knees. "Let me know what your sister would do differently?"

"Suppose so," he said, running his fingers through her silky hair.

With that, his mother made his clothes vanish. When his swollen cock sprang into view, her beautiful brown eyes went wide and she involuntarily licked her luscious lips. Cahill would never tire of seeing that reaction. It was stupid and vain and thoroughly Oedipal, but nothing gave him the same sense of validation as the way his mother's mouth watered at the sight of his swollen manhood. If every other woman alive thought him small, that alone would be more than enough to make up for it. That no woman ever had did nothing to detract from the pleasure of seeing his mother's reaction either.

Once she engulfed him, it took her no time at all to make him forget all about his plans to continue teasing her. His mother was a true master of her craft, and Cahill was in a receptive mood. If she'd have let him, he'd have filled her mouth with his warm seed almost straight away. But she seemed intent on proving that she could mimic the abilities of her sister, rather than his. She brought him to the brink, eased off, then pushed him to the edge again. And again. And again. Her tongue did unspeakable things to his member, and she gently caressed his balls with her fingers as she worked. Tears formed in Cahill's eyes, but still his mother didn't let him cum. She waited the longest time before granting him his sweet release. When it finally arrived, he cried out at the top of his lungs. Then his knees buckled, and Cahill fell to the grass in a motionless heap.