I am Timothy: your...

Feel free to comment. I value feedback.

We once had arranged that when we met I would introduce myself as I always started my talks at the start of a voyage. This wasn't quite meeting but it was close and Grandad needed to know the score as much I any of us. I wracked my brain for each possible option after that as the phone rang on speakerphone.

"Hello dad, is Timothy safe?" mom was clearly worried sick.

"Hello, I am Timothy; your..." I said and waited hardly a heartbeat.

"Lover...Timothy that's not right!"

"That is what you want, we'll work it out...mom."

There was a long silence.

"Oh god; help me, Tim, come home...just come."

"On our own, if I must I will do the Viking thing. We'll work it out."

It had been more than a year to get here. My father had made a confession more than a year ago that he had faked my and his death in a plane crash at sea for the insurance money. This had happened twelve years before that. The last year had been spent taking him down. He stole my mother from me I was going to steal his whole fucking life.

In the last year I had needed to play a very delicate game. I had needed to satisfy an insurance company that I was serious. I had needed to convince my father that I was as crooked as he was too. I needed to get my grandfather on board and to handle things I could not. I had got to know my mom through facebook too.

This was the trouble now. She was damn sexy to me. In our facebook chats in which I could not tell her that I was her son because that would have destroyed the whole play we had become more than just facebook contacts chatting about the tourism possibilities of the Azores. She needed to feel attractive, to me she was the most beautiful woman and I had said so. From there a type of long distance romantic relationship developed.

I was a qualified sea captain having thrown myself into that from ten years old to not think of my mother. Now, at eighteen I had a few very different ideas than other teenagers. Where they knew all about fucking from first-hand experience, I knew about it as a spectator. I captained a small passenger liner for my father. As such I had seen many newlyweds, more accurately I heard them, fucking like rabbits. Sometimes it had sounded like cats mating. I knew it happened and roughly what went where but not how, or how to set a mood for it. Or how to conduct the sabotage campaign before invading.

Girls my age seemed to be find me either boring (yawning to my face) or scary because I would explode instantly if someone near me did something stupid on the water. Female crew members had the good judgement to not become pedophiles while I had the good sense to not open sexual harassment doors. And the... uhm young ladies; on the dockyards had certain decency codes in that they refused to provide services to me.

As such my sole romantic and sexual experience had been my mom at two thousand miles separation. My grandad was sitting next to me in the Lear Jet, he had broken the news to mom when I was posted overdue in Glasgow to sort out my university courses to get my master's degree in maritime engineering. She now knew that I was her son. He understood the difficulties we faced now, probably better than most as he told me about coming back from Vietnam and the only person who tolerated him had been his half-sister.

There was going to be a homecoming party the next week, this week was no good with too much still to do. Besides, mom and I needed time to work this out.

He changed the subject instead to taking a gap year. The criminal trials coming up would see me spending a lot of time in court. I had already been accepted to MIT, Harvard, and Princeton without grandad pulling strings. He was a Stanford graduate, and wanted me to go there. The difficulty was that I had been given an American passport, driver's license, social security number, but my Portuguese qualifications were not carried across. If I went to university on American credentials I would need to start three years back from the level my qualifications allowed for. If I used my Portuguese passport the enrollment processes were longer and more complex.

A brand new Ford Bronco was waiting for me at Jacksonville airport. Another insurance company had given it to me in thanks for another scam I stopped for them. Grandad flew on from Jacksonville to Fort Lauderdale to speak to the insurance company and get contracts signed. This left me alone to think as I drove.

It had been a difficult last month as everything came down to one North Atlantic polar storm and which way it blew. Luckily the first in December blew from Siberia which meant the plan was feasible. Thinking proved impossible as American driving was completely different to Portuguese.

In the Azores the roads were too narrow, traffic cops told drivers to hoot before turning, and the speed limit applied to somebody else. In the States the roads were too wide, the cops had no sense of humor, and the speed limit applied specifically to me. I got stopped twice for a mere five miles over the speed limit and let off with a warning each time, I got the message though and watched my speed on the sat nav. The Bronco was also huge as far as I was concerned, I had learned to drive a Suzuki Jimny that was less than half the size of the bronco. I got to Snead's Ferry though and found the house, turning up a long driveway with a nice looking house at the end.

I had no idea what I had expected when I did see mom in person for the first time. I don't think anything went according to plan for her. First, I went in through the back door, front doors are for brides and bodies in the Azores. Then I didn't knock. Once again in the Azores we call out rather than knock.

"Hello, I wonder if I am in the right place?" I asked as I went through a sliding door.

It was getting dark and I didn't immediately see her standing at the front door. I did see the movement and pressed on.

"I'm Timothy..."

Suddenly a light switched on and she was coming across the floor from where she had been standing near the hall. Oh man she was beautiful. She wore a long deep blue skirt, a thick cream colored polo neck pullover, and a light blue coat with soft black leather boots. None of that could hide her figure, her breast made maddeningly suggestive swells, her hips were hugged by her skirt; she filled the skirt but did not bulge out straining the fabric. She moved fast and lightly on her feet, her soft boots making no sound.

'You're better looking for real than your pictures!" I blurted out.

She smiled broadly at that without saying anything, she was trying but nothing came. My jacket with captain's knots on the shoulders was suddenly too hot. No surprise really it was made to have sailors survive freezing winds, rains, and anything else weather could throw below the arctic zones. Somehow the toggles were loose and mom was into my chest her arms under my jacket and curling around my back. I was intensely aware of two breasts pressing into me just at the level of my floating ribs. I had an instant erection so hard it gave me a headache.

She looked up at me and was still framing words when I kissed that beautiful mouth. I wasn't entirely sure beyond this. I sort of knew that a kiss worked like a transfer application in some conditions. My hands were already pulling that pullover up. Mom showed me right. Her hands stopped mine and then her tongue pushed past my lips and explored inside my mouth.

I first pulled my tongue back to give her tongue space. But then her tongue licked my tongue; oh man that was awesome! Then I licked her tongue and our tongues started dancing between us, me exploring her mouth with her tongue being shown around by her tongue. Her tongue curling around mine, sometimes my tongue curled around hers. Suddenly she broke off'

"Close that door!" she ordered.

The sliding door was letting a cold wind into the house. I turned and closed it without question, the pulled curtains closed to help insulate, North Carolina was a lot colder that the Azores. She was busy while I closed the door, she dimmed the light and opened a chest in the lounge that made the coffee table when it was closed.

I looked at her as she took a blanket out. She was shaking when her hands were free, it must have been cold so I turned the oil burner in the fireplace up. I knew this type of burner from my cruiser, it had one in the wardroom to warm the whole ship if it went into cold, the ship had been designed for colder waters that the Azores.

When I turned around mom had spread a blanket in front of the burner and was topless, except for her bra. Her hands were behind her loosening her skirt. I nearly fell over watching the skirt fall. There she was in her underwear. It wasn't the sexy kind, but she was still so fucking hot.

I was filled with admiration for her as she stood there. She was actually quite petite, slender and fit. her belly was what had me. I had come from there. I could see the stretch marks I had caused, but it was just so beautiful. She had made me, loved me, and here I was, eight inches taller than her, and about twice as heavy.

"Do you still want this?" she asked.

I answered her by reaching for her and kissing her again. I needed those beautiful, firm breasts, kissing her was great but those globes softly pressing into my ribs were driving me insane. I put my right hand between her legs, supported her back, and picked her up to bring those breast to my mouth. She yelped a little but took her breasts out of her bra as I lifted her. I felt her panty get wet in the palm of my right hand as she turned my mouth from one nipple to the other. The way they stood out, so firm, stiff, and dark against the pale globes of her breasts was beyond anything I could have imagined. It occurred to me that maybe holding mom up with all her weight on her vagina was not a good idea had let her down.

She seemed a little sad about that but I had to guide her down as her knees just folded. Once on the ground I pulled her panties off to see if I had hurt her, she had no problem ripping all my clothing off before I could even check.

"Did I hurt you?" I asked as my pullover went flying.

"Yeah! It was awesome!" Mom replied intensely focused on getting shirt buttons loose.

I had no such issues right now, two buttons was enough and I pulled my shirt over my head.

I was still worried about mom's vagina, she picked that up.

"Kiss it better then!" she ordered and turned me to lie on my back.

With mom straddling my face, I had a wonderful view of her. Even from here she was gorgeous. Her breast standing out proudly at the top of a flat belly. Then my gaze traveled to her vagina; even that was beautiful. I could see the lips, a little bud just peeking out between them where the lips came together near her pubic bone. The pick colors, the juice drops dripping out, I kissed. Then kissed with my tongue. Mom pulled my mouth against her lips and shouted instructions for what she wanted of me as I loved where my life began. I was getting out of my trousers while she taught me to eat her pussy.

She had an orgasm, spurting juices all over me, I had to catch hold of her to stop her falling flat on her face. She felt my hands holding her up, my palms over her nipples and moved herself down my body. My erection was throbbing and I nearly lost control as she felt for my dick and grabbed it. Then she lowered herself onto it, her eyes crossing and a secret inward smile on her lips as she warmly took my dick into her.

I lay on my back and felt her breasts, weighing them in my palms, feel the hard nipples between my fingers and watching sweat form on her skin, lubricating my hands. A drop started running down here cleavage and I sat up to lick it up and taste her skin. She caught my head between her breasts and pulled my hair to look up at her face.

"You... licked... my sweat! So; oh fuck, so nice...oh yeah!" she said as she moved herself up and down on my dick.

"I'll lick and kiss your ass too. If you let me." I answered.

Mom laughed aloud and somehow turned us so that I was on top. I thrust once or twice and mom nodded in approval. I had the idea.

"Harder. Faster." She ordered.

I thrust harder and more quickly. Then she ordered deeper and I moved pushing her further under me as I started thrusting deeper. Mom's forehead was just at my chin, my hands in her hair, and I thrust with everything I had as she started screeching and crying in her pleasure. I learned that good sex sounds like cats mating as she had another orgasm. I could feel I was close too.

"I'm going to cum mom." I warned her.

"Slow down. I want another." She answered.

Then the urge passed and I started thrusting again. Mom built to another orgasm quickly and yelled at me to fuck her as hard as I could. She grabbed my ass and helped me thrust harder and in a pace she liked by pulling my cheeks in or out as she wanted. She called out again and I felt her body shake and tremble as the orgasm hit; in the middle of it I felt mom's muscles contract around my dick and almost milk my cum out of me. I exploded into mom with her laughing hysterically as I collapsed in exhaustion on top of her. She kissed me and stroked my back until I had enough brain power to roll off her... To borrow a typically American expression form: masturbation is to good sex what a mountain lake is to the ocean.

I turned the burner down after a bit of time gathering my wits. Mom was lying half on top of me, tiredness of months of stress was catching up fast. I had spent so much waking time smuggling a ship through American waters from Georgia to Maine, dropping a life raft for the coast guard to pick up there. Then smuggling my ship back to Cape May and into a ship yard where she could safely hide until the court cases blew over. The Cape May Coast guard knew I was there, how I did it was a matter they wanted to know very much, but they were in on the play to get my father to the USA to arrest. Right at that moment it all meant nothing to me. I was home, my mom was here and the rest could go to hell.

I went to sleep aware that mom was counting my fingers and checking it I was healthy, despite what we had just done; she was still my mom and worried. I understood that but feeling safe, loved, and with someone was the greatest feeling ever.

I woke up some time later, aware that mom was not near me. At first I was upset, then I heard her shivering and I saw her just outside the blankets and I pulled her under the covers with me. She shivered a little longer until my body heat and the stored heat under the blankets eased her shakes. I was hugging her to me, her back against my chest, her lovely breasts right by my hand. I was gently fondling them, thinking of our chats, and a conversation suddenly came to mind from just before my father faked his and my deaths.

In our racier chats we had varied in scenarios. Me as a pirate or Viking raider coming to abduct her and turn her into my sex slave on board my boat. Me as an illegal immigrant being made to serve her as her slave. Us eloping to the Azores together in a variety of plans from running a brothel to running a a successful charter company like the one I was ripping out from under my father. this memory told me what scenario mom really wanted. That memory also told me what I wanted. I wondered how to tell her.

"You should stop. What we did was not right.:

"I was thinking, sorry if I woke you mom."

"Oh? What were you thinking?" mom sounded worried.

"I was thinking that I never got to greet you as I should have."

"You greeted me very well my boy. How should you have greeted me?"

"Hello, I am Timothy; your...