Incest Hotel Ch. 01

She unbuttoned her dress and let it fall to the floor. Then she clambered on to the bed, up on her hands and knees, and looked back over her shoulder, watching her son approach. He had stripped down to his vest and underpants. He grabbed hold of her panties and ripped them apart. She gasped as he did so. Then he bent down and buried his face between the cheeks of her ass.

He sunk his fingers into the sumptuous flesh of her buttocks, as he began to lick away at her cunt and anus. His tongue moved feverishly, lapping up all the glorious sex juice gushing out of her twat. She was soaking his face with her fluids, as it dribbled down her legs. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the pungent smell of her cunt. Then he brought one hand to her vaginal entrance and began to forcefully finger her gash.

"Oh God, my little man, you're so good to your Momma." She groaned, as her head dropped down on to the mattress. "I can feel your fingers inside me, inside your Momma's cunt."

Peter smiled, as he continued his merciless onslaught. He had four fingers, twisted round each other, stabbing in and out of her hot, wet hole. She reached back and grabbed hold of his wrist, pulling him even deeper inside her. Then her hand snaked underneath her body, so she could rub her clit and bring herself off. The combination of her son's oral assault and the insistent, relentless, thrusting power of his hand, led to a huge explosion of sexual ecstasy. Her body shook like an earthquake as waves of sensual joy swept through her.

She collapsed on the bed, her body shaking and twitching from her orgasm. Her son stood up, the lower half of his face glistening from her juices. He wiped his mouth with back of his hand. Then he took off his vest and slipped out of his underwear, revealing his monster cock. He grabbed hold of his mother by the hips and lifted her back up on to her knees, as if she weighed nothing at all. Then, he took hold of his prick and lined it up with her gash.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Momma."

"Of course, baby. Do whatever you want with me."

So he did.

He slammed his cock inside her, thrusting forward with all his power and fury. Esther screamed with joy as he buried himself deep in his mother's cunt. He grabbed hold of her by the waist and began to slam back and forth, fucking her with an overwhelming frenzy. With each thrust, her buttocks jiggled and rippled. There was a distinct slapping noise each time his groin met hers.

They made for quite a sight. This voluptuous, beautiful, mature lady, wearing nothing but a corset and a pair of black stockings, bent over on the bed; as a tall, young, muscular man pounded away at her from behind. The fact they were mother and son might have shocked any potential spectator, but there was no denying they were a handsome couple.

Peter had been away for nearly a year now, fighting in southern Italy, so this was the first chance for them to have sex in a long, long time. In the interim, he had slept with a handful of very pretty Italian girls, prostitutes mostly, and she had slept with his father; but both of them knew this was the real deal. Sex with each other was unlike sex with anyone else. It existed on a different level. Mother and son found a type of physical satisfaction with each other they couldn't enjoy with another soul on earth. Maybe it was because they were mother and son, because their bond was so intense, their relationship so taboo, that they felt this way.

His cock sawed in and out of her vagina, the vagina that had given birth to him. Esther believed his dick was the perfect length, the perfect width. It filled her up in a way no other cock had ever done before. Sometimes she felt the only reason he had been born, was for him to grow up and become her lover. She had created her ideal partner, the man she loved more than anyone else. The man she wanted to be with more than anyone else.

The room stank of their sex now. The atmosphere was hot and humid. Condensation was forming on the mirrors and the windows. Both of them were grunting and groaning as he continued to pummel away at her gash. He knew he was close to cumming, he could feels his balls tightening and his cock swelling.

"Soon, it'll happen soon." He panted, "Where do you want it?"

"In my cunt," She said, lifting her head up from the mattress. "Momma wants your cum in her cunt."

"Okay, here it comes." He said, as he erupted inside her.

His cock practically exploded, shooting out gobs of hot cream, hosing down the walls of her buttery gash. His body jerked and spasmed, as he came again and again, ribbons of cum firing out of his piss-hole. Esther welcomed every drop of her son's seed inside her, loving the sensation of being ravished and dominated. His climax sparked her climax, and for a moment she passed out.

When she came to, she found her son lying on top of her, his hard, masculine frame pressing down on her back. His cock was still inside her, although it had softened a little and was smaller in size. He was nuzzling at her neck and shoulders, breathing in the clean scent of her dark, glossy hair. His hands were roaming across her body, fondling and stroking and caressing.

"Oh fuck, I've missed this so much." He whispered in her ear.

"Not as much as I've missed you, my beautiful darling boy. You were magnificent, as always."

"Mom, I was wondering...maybe next time...I could...well...maybe, I could..."

"You wanna fuck Momma in the ass?" She asked, instinctively aware of what he was about to request. "Is that what you want baby? You want Momma's butt?"

"Gee, Mom, can I?"

"Of course, my darling. You know I can never say no to you."

She knew from past experience, that he would be hard again in no time at all. And she knew that he would be like a monster unleashed if they had anal sex. Esther had been relatively innocent in the ways of love, when she and her son had started sleeping together, but a combination of him joining the Army, being exposed to older men of the world, and her avidly reading a stash of Mexican porno comics that had been found in one of the guest rooms, had broadened both their minds quite considerably. It was amazing what the two of them got up to.

And they had all afternoon and evening to enjoy themselves. Her husband – his father, of course – was hundreds of miles away, and her staff were under strict instructions not to disturb them. Might someone hear what they were doing? Possibly. But the walls were thick and this part of the building was relatively remote. Anyway, Esther didn't care. She was the boss and she would do whatever she liked, even if it included fucking her son. Who would believe that was what they were doing, anyway?

At that particular moment in time, neither of them had a care in the world; a long day of depraved, sexual indulgence lay ahead of them.

3

Esther knew what her mother and brother were doing. She had known almost from the start, although she never knew exactly when the start was. They had always been close, but suddenly they were so much closer. Perhaps she would have never realised the truth, their suspicious intimacy could easily have been dismissed, but then she caught them together.

One morning, she awoke to find the house was empty, apart from the servants. Her father was away on business – always a blessed relief – and Rose and Little Vern were nowhere to be seen. Esther was not unduly concerned, and she decided to go for a walk in the grounds. As she skirted along a wooded area at the outskirts of their property, she heard a noise. It sounded like a scream. She crept through the bushes and trees, and the screaming got louder and louder.

Then, she saw them.

Her mother was stood up against a tree, wearing nothing but her slip, her legs spread apart and the skirt of her slip was hitched up round her waist. Esther could see her dress lying on the floor. Her brother was stood in front of her, his britches round his ankles, and his butt was thrusting back and forth, rhythmically. Although Esther was not yet married and still a virgin, she knew exactly they were doing. He was fucking their mother.

To say Esther was shocked was the understatement of the year. She was utterly dumbfounded. She stood there, hiding behind a tree, watching this obscene tableau play out in front of her. She saw the muscles in Little Vern's legs and buttocks strain and pulse as he hammered away at Rose. Their mother yelped and barked as she welcomed his cock inside her, the noises she was making were occasionally punctuated by moments of silence, as she frantically kissed her son.

Esther stood there for several minutes, profoundly disturbed but also profoundly excited. In a way, she thought to herself, this all made sense. She knew how strongly attached they were to one another, she knew how much time they spent in each other's company. So this was perhaps inevitable. Although Esther had not yet been with a man, she was not unaware of the urgings and demands of her body. She knew what it was like to be aroused. And she was aroused now. Her nipples had hardened and her private parts had moistened.

Esther began to masturbate as her mother and brother continued making love. She stood there, perhaps only a few feet away, her hand between her legs. She rubbed herself raw, watching them fuck, desperately trying to remain quiet, so they wouldn't notice her presence. Although in truth, they were probably too engrossed in their incestuous coupling to pay attention to anyone or anything else.

Eventually, with a final few dramatic thrusts, Little Vern climaxed inside his mother. They kissed passionately, whispering sweet nothings to each other, although Esther couldn't make out what they were saying. Then Rose giggled like a schoolgirl, before her son stood back a step in front of her. She sank to her knees and placed his member in her mouth. Esther could see her lick and suck on his thing, cleaning him up perhaps, or maybe priming the pump for a repeat performance?

Esther didn't hang around to find out. She hurried away, back to the house, and headed straight to her bedroom. There, she stripped herself naked and spent most of the afternoon masturbating feverishly.

She saw them together like this once more before their disappearance. The second occasion was on her wedding day no less. After the service, a grand luncheon was held for all the guests and family who had attended. It was a happy day, one of very few happy days she had spent in that house. As the afternoon drew on, she noticed her mother and brother were absent. She went looking for them, suspicious of what they may be doing.

Eventually, she found them, hidden away in the shadows. They were in a small alcove on the third floor of the building. Once more she spied on them. Little Vern was stood up against a wall, Rose was draped against him. He had his arm wrapped round her shoulder and they were kissing. Esther looked down and saw her brother's cock poking out of his pants. Rose had her hand wrapped round it and she was squeezing and tugging on it. As he gasped and groaned, she shushed him, warning him that people might hear.

The only people anywhere close by was Esther, and just as she was about to leave, her mother noticed her crouching nearby. The two women looked at each other, their eyes meeting. Rose simply smiled and nodded her head, her hand still wrapped tightly round her son's dick. Esther nodded her head in response, and crept back down the stairs. Little Vern was totally oblivious to the whole thing. Within seconds he was cumming all over his mother's hand.

That was not the last time she saw her mother and brother, but it was one of the last times. Esther moved out, living with her new husband. She returned home on a couple of occasions, but no word was ever uttered about her wedding day and the moment when she caught Rose giving her son a handjob. They would make light conversation, gossip about friends and acquaintances, and then Esther would leave.

There would be a last time, of course, and on that occasion Rose showed her daughter out, the two women walking hand in hand through the grand front door of the Copeland family home. They stood together, the brilliant Summer sun shining down on them like a spotlight. The air was unusually fresh that morning and the sounds of nature could be heard with crystal clarity.

Rose embraced her daughter, holding her tightly in her arms.

Feels like she's putting on a little weight, Esther thought to herself, not knowing the real reason why Rose's frame was expanding. Not knowing of the baby that was growing in her belly. The baby her son had put there.

The two women separated and looked at each other. Then Rose kissed Esther on the mouth. It was not a sexual kiss, but it was full of intensity and meaning. It lingered for a few seconds, then it finally ended.

"Goodbye, my dearest Esther."

"Goodby, Mother." She replied, her face a little flushed.

"You know I love you, don't you?"

"Of course, Mother. And I love you."

"Whatever happens, whatever you may be told, I want you to remember that fact. Will you do that, my darling girl?"

"Of course, Mother. Of course, I will."

Esther descended down the stairs at the front of the house, and climbed into the large limousine that was waiting for her. Her father's driver would take her home. She was taken away down the long gravel driveway, leading to the main road. She looked back and saw her mother standing watch, waving at her as she departed. Esther was too far away to see the tears rolling down her cheeks.

Three days later, Rose would be dead.

A day or two after that, her father phoned, telling Esther that her mother and brother had left.

"Left?" She had asked. "What do you mean, father?"

"I mean, they have left. Gone west, I believe, heading to California. They are no longer part of our family."

"I...I don't understand." She had said, although at the time she believed she did.

Esther had witnessed the two of them together, knew exactly what they were getting up to. So, at that point in time, she had simply assumed they had run away. In a way, she was happy for them; happy that they had managed to escape.

She assumed at some point she would hear from then. A letter maybe, or a postcard. Just some form of communication that would prove they were alive and happy. But the letters and postcards never came and, over time, Esther began to suspect something terrible might have happened to her mother and brother. And she also suspected her father may have been involved.

She saw very little of Big Vern after that. She had her husband now, and very soon she would have children of her own. Her father took remarkably little interest in his grandchildren, a fact that filled Esther with great relief. She knew what an awful man he was and she saw no need for her little boy and girl to spend much time with him.

Upon becoming a mother, she had wondered if her own mother might have made contact, but there was no word from Rose and Little Vern. None too, when Rose's namesake died tragically young. That was when Esther became convinced that something untoward had happened. She knew, she simply knew, that her mother would have been there for her in such drastic and heartbreaking times. The fact that she wasn't, told her everything she needed to know.

Then came the Wall Street crash and her father's suicide.

There is perhaps an assumption that the Great Depression impoverished the entire nation. This was clearly not true. Millions may have been thrown out of work, millions more may have struggled to make ends meet. But for plenty of people, times remained good. For some, their situation actually improved. Esther and Maxwell Stratton were two of the lucky ones.

Most of her father's businesses went under following the crash but, after months and months of lawyers and accountants doing their devilish work, she ended up the sole owner of a grand hotel. She and her husband considered selling it, but for some reason she decided to run the place. Her decision might have been different if she knew that her mother and brother were buried under the foundations.

The Strattons lived a happy enough life there. Husband and wife still had to deal with the grief and devastation of losing a child, but they endured and survived, the way people always did. Peter loved having the run of the place and was a familiar sight, as he careered up and down hallways and corridors. All the staff knew him and looked out for him, a young boy becoming a young man.

One Christmas, a pipe burst in the private residence of Esther, Max and their son. Quite a lot of water damage was done to their furniture. So, the three of them moved into rooms elsewhere within the hotel. Those rooms happened to be in the south wing of the building, almost immediately above what was left of Esther's mother and brother.

For some reason, she slept badly during this period, tossing and turning through the night, troubled by disturbing dreams she could never recall, once she awoke.

She was so horny too.

Esther had never been overly libidinous. She had enjoyed sex, or at least she thought she had, but it was not something that drove her forward in life. Suddenly, however, she was like a woman possessed. Her desires had multiplied in a way she couldn't understand. She masturbated relentlessly, spending long hours alone, her hand rubbing away furiously between her legs, as she played with her large, succulent breasts.

It was around this time she really began noticing how handsome and mature her son had become. She worshipped Peter. She had done throughout his life, but she had done so more ever since his sister had died. She spoiled him, mollycoddled him, smothered him, to be honest, but her concern was entirely understandable. He was her little boy, her little man.

But now he wasn't so little anymore.

He was eighteen and had become a remarkably good looking young man. Tall, broad-shouldered, muscular. He would walk along the corridor, drying himself down as he returned from the hotel pool, wearing only a pair of swimming shorts and an opened, unbuttoned shirt. Esther might see him as he came back to his room.

For reasons she couldn't quite understand, she was becoming obsessed with him. Obsessed with his looks, obsessed with his charm, obsessed with his presence. It was like a fever. A burning, raging fever. If her mother were still alive, rather than just being a wreck of old bones beneath Esther's feet, she might have smiled to herself. Like mother, like daughter, she might have thought.

As for Peter? Well, he was a horny teenage boy. He'd long since noticed his mother's womanly charms. They were hard to miss. Esther took after her mother in the boobs and bum department, so Peter had plenty to admire. He too had been ultra horny since they'd moved to these new rooms. There were a couple of obliging, younger room maids who were happy to give him an outlet for his needs, but it was his Momma who increasingly got his blood pumping.

Neither mother nor son could explain their newfound, mutual desires. Neither of them knew the truth about the Incest Hotel. But they were very shortly going to learn about its power.

Each year, Max and Esther held a huge, lavish party to celebrate New Year. There would be a fine dinner, held in the hotel's grand ballroom. Then, a live band would play, as partygoers danced the night away.

Before the evening's proceedings began, Esther found herself knocking on her son's door and entering his unlocked room. A secret part of her hoped she might have caught him getting dressed, but he was stood in his tuxedo, struggling with his bowtie. She walked up to him, brushing his hands away, and quickly sorting out his neckwear. She took a step back, stroking a little lint from his lapels, then gazing up at the young god her son had become.