Ingrid (Act 1 of 2)

Alas, Mom's lube seems to have mingled with the mixture, too, giving it a weird, slippery quality. His throat feels a little bruised from fellating Mom's vibrator, so swallowing this concoction is an uphill challenge. At one point he kind of hiccup-burps, and a sweet stinky acid rises up into his throat. He swallows it back down. It leaves a burning rawness in his gullet. He takes another lick of his sister's asshole. Maybe he should wrap this up soon.

"Is it all out?" she asks.

"I think so," he says, and smooches her asshole again. Just kind of kisses it.

"How did it taste?"

"Good," he closes his eyes and lovingly runs his tongue around the ring of her anus, presses into it, laps at it. Gives it another affectionate kiss. "Thanks."

"Weird," she says.

"Nothing weird," he says, and sort of tries to nuzzle her asshole, "about a brother loving his sister."

"Aw," Ingrid smiles. "Um," she starts.

"Hm?"

"Sorry I farted in your mouth."

"Yeah, it's okay. Comes with the territory."

"Weird. Can I sit now?"

She sits down in her brother's lap, snuggling into him.

"I like that you love my bottom."

"What can I say," he chuckles, his breath putrid. "You're a cutie-patootie."

She immediately makes him go brush his teeth.

"With Mom's toothbrush?" he resists.

"With the fucking toilet brush for all I care. Just clean that thing the fuck out."

"Fine."

"And wash your dick off while you're at it."

"Right."

"You got my shit on it."

"Yeah I got that."

He returns to find her curled up in a cute little ball, already dozing.

"Hey," she yawns at him. "You ready to go to sleep? I want to snuggle."

"Just right here?" he asks, yawning at her yawn.

She stands up tiredly. She points to the couch.

"Lay," she tells him.

He does.

"Sideways," she tells him.

He turns and presses his butt to the back of the sofa.

"Good," she smiles, and lays down with her brother. She nuzzles herself butt-first up into him. He pretends he doesn't love it. She drapes an arm over her, and he hugs her with it, and she makes a sleepy little noise at him.

Several minutes later she undrapes the arm because it's too hot. Will is all the way out. It's not the comfiest sofa in the world.

Ingrid wonders if Mom might be okay with sharing her bed.

Chapter Twenty-seven

"Will, sweetie," Mom grazes a finger over her son's sideburn and draws a little loop around his ear. It feels nice. "Wake up," she whispers. She kisses his ear cartilage. He feels it in his chest.

Will's eyes crack open. Ingrid is missing.

Daylight beams in underneath and up the sides of the double-layered curtains, casting a pretty fan of textured light across the carpet, and making the wall around the window sort of glow inside the room's dark.

"What time is it? Did you already go to your interview?"

"No," she frowns a little nervously, "I have to leave in a little bit. But! Did you want to have a little fun before I go?"

Mom is fully dressed in a sharp blouse and tartan pencil skirt. She smells remarkable. She has tiny little earrings in her ears. Will has hired people before. He would hire someone like his Mom for literally fucking any job she wanted. Not just because she was hot. He knows her, and knows she can do just about everything better than most people can do anything.

"But you're all dressed," he mutters. Mom pretends not to mind her son's disturbingly bad morning breath.

"Not all dressed," she lifts up the front of her skirt.

"Um," he smiles when she smiles. "Okay," he crinkles into a giddy, boyish grin.

"Oh, you like seeing Mommy's pussy right before she's going to fuck you, don't you, sweetie," she says. She caresses her son's face, then chest, then stomach. When she gets to his morning wood, she gives it a cutesy little tap dance with her fingertips. "Rise and shine," she sings to it.

"Mom," he says.

"Sweetheart," she answers.

"If you get this job..."

"Yes, honey?"

"Well, like, does that mean they'll want you to move out here?"

"That is on the table, yes. They're offering to pay me extra to relocate."

She just kind of caresses and fondles her son. Teases him. Gets him to make little faces while they talk.

"AND? Do you want the job?"

"Are you asking me if I want to live out here in the middle of nowhere? Stuck with only my two grown kids for company? And I'd have to make twice as much money as I do now?"

"Yeah?"

"Honey, let me answer that question with a question."

"Okay," he's kind of disappearing into the feeling of her hand on his balls.

"Do you want to wake up every morning to this?" she grins mischievously and suddenly starts jerking him off with both hands. He's almost reminded of her tickle monster face from when they were both younger.

"Y-y-yeah!" he laughs, "God, Mom, really?" He can feel his heartbeat kind of tumble out of bed and hit the ground running, startled and confused.

"If this interview goes the way I think it will, then I don't see any reason why we can't just be a happy little family again. Would you like that?"

"Mom. Oh my God. Oh my God. Ingrid is going to pee her pants when you tell her. Please take the job. Please move out here. Come live with us! You can sleep in my bed. We can all just sleep in my bed. I hate that fucking bed. But it's comfortable as fuck."

"Orrr I can just get us all someplace new to live? We can each have our own rooms."

"Aw," Will says. He liked his one bed idea.

"Meaning we can each have our own special place to fuck, sweetie. Variety, you know?"

"Mom, get on top of me."

"You mean 'Mom, please get on top of me?'"

"Mom, please get on my cock. I need to be inside you while I process this news you just gave me."

"There's a good boy," Mom laughs breathlessly. She's gotten herself worked up just thinking about it. She isn't just horny, she's also happy, euphoric. Ready to love her son so hard he cums.

She hikes up her skirt until it's practically a corset. Underneath is her bald pussy and perfect butt. Honestly, the look works on her.

She swings a bare foot onto the sofa over her son's hips, then clambers up until she's straddling him once again. She likes how quickly this is becoming a natural thing for them. She grabs his cock and guides it toward her pussy. She humps it a little bit, lathers it up. She slides the head along the slit while she massages her clit with her other hand. She sort of swipes him into and out of herself, smoothly and sweetly drawing him through and back and through again until he's fully slick and dripping precum, and then--making a sort of focused, smiling, squinting face--she gently begins to sit down onto her son's cock.

She waits with it stuck barely inside her until he thinks to look up at her face. She is just beaming at him, is all. Maybe a little hornier than usual, but otherwise just Mom being Mom.

She makes sure she has his gaze before she continues lowering herself. When she gets to the bottom of him, she relaxes and lets her full weight sink onto him. Her legs and ass kind of hug him into the sofa. She leans all the way forward and plants a kiss on her son's mouth.

"You're inside," she whispers. "Does it feel good?"

He almost cums right then and there.

He wraps his Mom in a bear hug and squeezes her down onto him. Her breath rushes out of her. Her breasts squish between them. She wheezes. She laughs, a little light-headed, and smooches her son again. They don't kiss with tongue. She's going to let Will be the first to cross that boundary if he wants. But she does kiss him awfully intently.

Will grabs Mom's hips and thrusts himself all the way inside her. She makes a little woofing sound and then comes back down with him onto the sofa, planting her weight on him.

"No need for that, honey. Let Mommy take care of you."

"O-okay," he laughs, overflowing with affection. "I just really loved you all of a sudden."

"Aww, sweetheart." She gives him another kiss. "That's why it's called making love. When you fuck me and love me at the same time, we create extra love."

"Holy shit. That's fucking hot."

"Yeahhh," Mom says, extraordinarily turned on by the act of teaching her son something cheesy while grinding on his cock.

"Mom, I want you to fuck me hard. Like as hard as you can. Please? Please fuck my brains out."

"Mmm," she moans, and gives her son a horny hug with her pussy. "I can probably arrange that."

"Mom--"

"Just shut up and let me fuck you," she laughs, and rather than speed up she simply shifts her weight slightly, arches her back a little differently, and suddenly the walls of her pussy are fucking his cock and flexing on it in perfect tandem. Will has not known this feeling before. Mom just keeps showing him new pleasure after new pleasure, as if it's a day at the zoo. He feels her rubbing her G-spot with his cock. She starts making irrepressible noises in her throat.

Will makes a series of half-formed utterances, trying to convey his appreciation for Mom.

Mom's hips don't go up and down but in a kind of forward and backward motion, hump-fucking him into and back out of her.

"Will, sweetie," she breathes onto him, "Mommy wants you to cum deep inside her, okay?"

"If-f I cum inside you--are you, are you--?"

"Honey?"

"Is it ... safe?"

"Are you asking if you can get me pregnant?" she gives him a curious smile.

"Y-yeah?"

"Baby," she scoffs, "Mommy got that taken care of a long time ago."

She leans over, bringing her face all the way down to her son's until her forehead rests on his, and their noses line up and touch. He smells his mom's breath. It smells like wintergreen mouthwash.

"Why do you ask?" she asks him, seductively.

"I don't--know," he admits. "I was just--you know?"

"You were worried," she rubs her nose against his nose, "about putting another little sibling inside of me, weren't you?"

"I--I--guess?"

"Aw," she whimpers. "For what it's worth, sweetheart, I would have loved to carry your baby."

"Y-yeah?" he laughs. Wow, that is not a turn-on he knew he had.

"Of course," she grunts, picking up her pace a little bit, aggressively trying to make him cum--and doing a very, very good job. "Can't you just picture me all big and round? My tits all--oo--I mean my boobies all full of sweet, tasty milk? Me putting your hand to my belly so you could feel our little baby kicking around in there?"

"F-fuck," he says. "That sounds nnn-mmm-nice."

"And honey, our baby would be gorgeous," Mom coos.

"Mom, okay, come on."

"A girl can dream!" she laughs, and sits back up so they can see each other fucking.

"Do you want to suck my tits right now?" she asks, kind of just feeling like talking like an adult for a second.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah what?"

"Yeah please."

"Then come up here and get them," she says, and leans back, putting her hands on his knees and projecting her chest into the air as she continues to grind up and down on his cock.

Will sits up and grabs his mother around her waist. With one hand he holds her while with the other he begins to unbutton Mom's blouse. He struggles with the tiny girly buttons as she grinds still harder and harder on his cock. He gets it open down to the top of her hiked-up skirt, basically just below her breasts. Mercifully, her sexy black bra is the kind that unclasps in the front. About ten hours later, he frees Mom's happy little tits. He yanks her up into a hug, then pulls her down on top of him, this time with her breasts smothering his face.

That old familiar flavor of Mom's nipples. The soft cushion of the breast itself. The dizzy perfume smell of Mom's skin, neon bright up close. It all goes into his mouth and nose and brain and sends him to a happy cloudy place.

Mom continues to pick up the pace, the heat, the intent. She wants her son to cum inside her, badly, but she needs him to hurry. She can't be late for this interview. And she feels dangerously close to breaking a sweat.

Her wristwatch alarm begins to sound. She doesn't silence it.

"Honey," she gasps, and grabs his face. She pants open-mouthed for a minute, clutching his head while he nurses at her, each of them savoring the feeling of her son's bliss inside her. Her wide-open blouse forms a velour curtain around his face. Her hot minty breath humidifies the space inside.

He wonders idly if she's going to silence her watch.

"Honey, cum inside me, cum inside me, cum inside me."

He releases her nipple for a moment, breathes out an indignant, "?"

"Mommy has to go to work, Will. She needs you to cum, okay?"

"Mom, b-but," he stammers.

"Baby, please, Mommy needs you to cum so bad."

"But I want to cum in your mouth."

"Oh," she is momentarily puzzled, then aroused all over again, "Okay, sweetie. But you gotta hurry."

"And--mmm-mmm--I want you to cum in my mouth."

"Right," she frowns. She wants this, too, in point of fact. She glares at her watch. She is truly out of time.

She dismounts her son, then quickly, somewhat clumsily, repositions on top of him. She shimmies back on her hands and knees until her rear end is directly in her son's face. His head his resting on the arm of the sofa, so she can practically back right up onto his mouth. She backs up and stops at the point where all he has to do his barely lift his head and he's making out with her, so to speak. And it's a good thing, too, because his neck is still sore from last night.

She peeks at him over her shoulder.

"Enjoy your breakfast, sweetie," she smiles.

"H-hey Mom?" he pants, excitedly sniffing and already taking little sample licks.

She makes a sound like "Hm?" as she dives onto his cock. Fuck-around time is over. He is cumming for her. She is chugging his cum and getting the fuck out of here.

"I-I-I LOVE you tooooOOOhGod."

She makes a throaty sound on his cock and pats his thigh, wiggles her pussy on his nose.

He cums, and an instant later, while celebrating her little boy's orgasm and thirstily sucking his cum into her stomach, she cums too. She whimpers in rapid little every-breath coos on his cock, and clenches her whole body as he sucks on her clit. Little surges of liquid, nothing violent, just sweet little rivulets of Mom come rolling out of her pussy and onto her son's lips and chin. He lets it drip down his neck before he realizes what he's letting happen. He licks her up and tastes her pungent, motherly funk, and for one transcendent moment understands, with greater elation than he knew himself capable--there's even a sort of heavenly choral moment where he accidentally pokes his head above a cloud cover he hadn't realized had an "above" above it--that his mother is cumming in his mouth at the same time that she is swallowing his cum, and eagerly, blissfully, he ducks his head back under the clouds so he can get back to fulfilling his sonly duties.

When Ingrid steps out of the shower, she finds her mother and brother still buried in each other's crotches on the sofa. Little sister hasn't bothered to towel dry, rather she steps serenely over to the armchair and sits down, letting herself drip dry into the upholstery. She holds a hot hotel mug of complimentary coffee in her lap. She sips and watches them finish each other.

Mom startles a bit when she finally notices her daughter. She wipes her mouth on the back of her hand and scoots her skirt back down over her thighs. Her makeup stays expertly put.

"Ingrid, swee-ck--hrm," she has to stop and clear her throat, "sweetheart, good morning!"

"Not as good as yours, apparently," Ingrid grins.

"Oh please," Mom blushes, re-buttoning her blouse. "You get to take him home with you."

"How does he taste today?" Ingrid waves a hand in her brother's cock's direction. Mom is relieved to find her daughter is in a chipper mood.

"You want to see?" Mom asks.

She dismounts from the sofa. Ingrid licks her lips. Mom brings her a warm, salty, musky kiss with just the wrong amount of tongue, like she knows her daughter likes. Her daughter gives her fresh-brushed teeth and coffee breath in return.

"Not bad," Ingrid frowns. "I like the naughty combo of flavors. But you know what? I still think I'll have what he's having."

Will lay there like a dead person. His eyes open but unseeing. His face slick with Mom's affection. His cheeks flushed red. His cock limp and cumless, spent at long sweet last.

"I'm out of time, dear, or I would gladly pour you a glass," Mom stumbles into one heeled shoe and then another. Nothing too spiky or glamorous. Just a smart pair of interview shoes.

"Aw," Ingrid says, suddenly genuinely sad. "Am I at least going to see you again before you leave?"

"I'm afraid not," Mom sighs. "I'll probably have to go straight to the airport after, with how traffic has been. Sorry babe, I didn't know we'd be spending so much time together this weekend or I would have scheduled myself a little more wiggle room!"

"This sucks," Ingrid pouts. She glares into Mom's eyes, and Mom gazes back. Mom could tell her about the job offer, but she is privately enjoying this honest little moment of sweet sorrow from her daughter.

"Mom," says Zombie Will.

"Yes?"

"Good luck today."

"Thank you darling."

"Mom?" asks Ingrid.

"What is it sweet pea?"

"Do you want to just say fuck it to the interview, fuck it to your flight, and hang out with us all day?"

Mom grins wide at this one.

"Yes I do, baby," she plants another sweet kiss on top of her daughter's freshly showered head. "But I really can't."

"Are you suuuure?" Ingrid asks, sensuously repositioning on the armchair and letting her figure work a little bit of magic on Mom's brain.

It does work a little, actually.

"Ch-checkout is at eleven, okay, baby? That gives you--" Mom checks her watch. "Shit. Thirty minutes. Why don't you get dressed sweetie. And scoop your brother into some clothes, too, while you're at it. Probably best you two aren't here when room service sees what we've done with the place."

"Oh God," Ingrid giggles, first brightly, then forlornly. "Sorry about the mess, Mom."

"Totally worth it, dear. Now I've got to run. Be good, okay?"

"Bye Mom?"

And Mom leaves, wheeling her carry-on behind her out the door. The fancy door closes almost all the way on its own, slows down right as it gets to the latch, then clicks softly shut.

Her brother isn't looking, so Ingrid lets Mom's departure wrack her with quiet grief for a moment. She clutches the hot mug in her hands and simply hates, nondirectionally. She has not gotten to see enough of her mother, despite having seen literally all of her. They had barely even spoken, really, other than that first night in Will's front room.

Will mumbles something over on the couch that makes him chuckle.

"What?" Ingrid asks, irritated.

"She never put on panties," Will laughs again, then coughs. "Ow," he groans quietly, and gingerly rubs his throat muscles.

Ingrid has to admit this does lift her spirits a little.

Chapter Twenty-eight, Part One of Two

On the drive home, Will tells Ingrid about Mom's job offer, and about Mom maybe getting them all a place to share somewhere in town.

Ingrid's response is one of eerie serenity. She puts a hand on her brother's thigh while he drives, and he puts his hand on hers, and they hold them there together for a few blocks. It's cloudless and sunny and hot, and Ingrid just squints out the passenger side window with this look on her face while they stop and start their way through lunchtime traffic.