Motherly Lust, The Book of Evil

A Mother and Son are given a dark ultimatum by dark forces unearthed. Have sex fifty times... or die. The only catch? They'll enjoy it just a little bit more every single time.

"Explain it to me again..."

Mom wiped a tear from her right eye before fixing me with a fearful glance and repeating what she'd said for the third time. "We have to have sex... onc- once a day at 5 PM for fifty days... or else... or else... we'll die."

"What the fuck," I jumped up, pacing the kitchen with my head in my hands, "how the fuck are we going to do this... I don't even think I can get it- get it... up for you..." I trailed off sheepishly, avoiding eye contact with her as she choked back a tear.

"I know, that's the thing though son, it says here that each time we do it we'll..." She broke off, stifling a groan of disgust as she gestured at the paper in front of her. "We'll... enjoy it more."

"What the hell does that mean?" I stopped pacing and cocked my head to the side. Not daring the consider the implications of what she'd just said.

"I don't fucking know James, I don't know!" Mom exclaimed, throwing her hands up and pacing the room in desperation. "Look, I'm gonna go take a shower, just- just... be ready when I get out."

______

"Okay son... are you ready?" Mom asked, stepping out of my parents' guest bathroom wearing nothing but a towel.

"Not at all, but we don't have much of a choice, do we?" I asked. Looking up from my phone at my mother as she gingerly edged towards the foot of the bed.

"No sweetie... I guess not," she lamented at she let the towel drop to her ankles, holding back tears as she continued, "let's just get this over with, okay?"

The first time was rough. There were a lot of tears, blushing, and murmurs of assurance as we blundered our way around each others bodies for the next forty five minutes, stopping frequently as my already weak erection faded into nothing time and time again.

How exactly, did we find ourselves stuck in this position? Well, you won't believe me, not yet at least. Once we reach the end of this little story it'll make a lot more sense, but for now... All you need to know is we found something while cleaning out the old garage, something neither of us remembered ever being there. Along with this... thing.... Was a book. A horrible fucking book that turned our entire lives upside down.

For now, all you need to know is this. We were in possession of an old book, one with blank pages that changed at a whim, filling with insidious writings giving us new instruction and words of affirmation. An evil, twisted book that was slowly corrupting our minds to the core. We didn't believe it at first, thought it must have been some sick joke, a gag book with some sort of hidden mechanism that allowed new words to appear and pop out of existence at the drop of a hat. Words that gave us an ultimatum. We have sex every afternoon for fifty days in a row, or else we'd die. We ignored it at first, dismissing the notion as ridiculous, but... it convinced us, in a bone chilling fashion. We'll get to that later though. For now, just know that there was no doubt as to the book's authenticity, and we had no choice but to comply.

There was one small caveat though. According to the book, we'd start to enjoy it a little more with each passing day. If that was supposed to make us feel any better... it didn't.

The second night wasn't much better.

It was easier to get hard that day, although anything was better than the disaster which was the first night, but that's about it. The third and fourth were about the same, only marginal improvements which served nothing more than to get the job done a bit quicker.

The fifth afternoon is when things got weird.

"Hey mom," I said as I walked in the front door and set off down the opening hallway into the living room.

"Hi son," she said, glancing up from the TV at her place on the couch. "Are you ready? We're gonna have to hurry today, your dad's coming home early."

"Are you fucking serious?" I responded, sinking next to her on the couch, "How long do we have?"

"About forty five minutes," she answered, biting her lip and furrowing her brow as she turned to face me.

I've always known my mom was an attractive woman, really, I have. I heard no end of it from my friends in highschool, which was always really weird. She was well into her late forties, but looked more like she was in her early thirties. Sitting at 5 foot 4, she has a thick head of long brown hair which liked to tickle her... very well endowed chest, double d's as I'd heard her brag about far too many times growing up. But yes, a very large bra size, and an hourglass figure despite being just a tad bit overweight.

I was never the type of person who felt any sort of attraction toward's my own mother though, until...

Fast forward to the present, adult James, seeing her head cock to the side as she bit her lip, that little frown... well, I'm ashamed to say it inspired a reaction out of me. Just a little one, but a reaction nonetheless, for at that moment I felt a not so unpleasant jolt in my sweats as my little guy started to come out of his shell. This was a first you see, as the four times before that I had to use my hand and a little porn to get things going down there, otherwise we had no chance in hell of getting things moving. So you can only imagine the shame and discontent I felt as I started growing a natural erection for my own mother. Revulsion... I was disgusted with myself, but still just kept on growing.

For a second, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander as my body took in the moment. The brief look on her face wasn't what finished me off, no, it only got the job halfway done so to speak. What brought me to full attention was everything else. The low cut black tank top, which did a commendable job of showing off her large boobs, the jean shorts which sat just a little too high on her legs, leaving me with an absolutely delightful view of her generous set of thighs.

Disgust, revulsion, shame. This was my own mother for christs sake, and there I was almost lusting over her in spite of myself.

"James. James!" She said, snapping in my face, "Earth to James... come on son, we need to hurry up. Do you need a minute in the bathroom? I already have the lube here, hurry and take off your pants." she finished, reaching behind the throw pillow supporting her back and pulling out a small bottle of KY Jelly.

"Uhhh, yeah, I'll be right back," I mumbled, hurriedly adjusting my hair from my eyes and stumbling up to head towards the guest bathroom next to the kitchen. It was a short walk, one which took all of ten seconds to complete, as I crossed the threshold between the living room and kitchen, mom called my name, forcing me to stop by the dining table and turn around.

"You need your phone, right?" She asked, holding up the device in one hand. "Or, maaaybe not..." she trailed off, her eyes glancing downwards.

Following her glance, I saw what I'd already felt the second I left my place on the couch. I was now fully erect, leaving a visible tent in my weathered pair of sweats. Mom's face was beet red as we made eye contact.

"I guess you don't need a minute to yourself after all, just.... just come here sweetie, let's get this done, quickly before your dad gets home, we have about thirty five minutes now, but I'd like to finish in much less than that, just to be safe." She said, the expression on her face mirroring the one of utter embarrassment on my own. "I guess it's happening, isn't it?" She continued as I made my way back to the large couch and reclaimed my spot to her right. "The book told us this would happen, don't- d- don't stress over it, okay baby? Hey, maybe now we can get this done even quicker, huh?" She finished with a smile, giving my shoulder a playful nudge as she said it. Her grin fell flat as she realized how pitiful an attempt at lightening the mood it really was.

"This is such a fucking mess mom... what would Tracy say if she saw this?" I said, lifting my butt in the air and pulling my pants down.

Mom mirrored my movements, a process which at this point was beginning to feel familiar.

"James," she said, turning to face me as she laid down on the couch, placing her legs around my waist as she urged me to turn towards her, "Your wife will NEVER find out about this, no one will, now come on my love, stick it in me so we can get dressed."

This was the point we started feeling far too comfortable in this routine, although we wouldn't notice that until after the fact. Hindsight really is 20/20.

And it was with that sentence that I finally considered the woman in front of me. The woman who birthed me, breast fed me, and woke me up for school every morning growing up. The woman who raised me, who was now laying down on a wide couch in front of me, with her legs spread, inviting me inside of her body. Pulling the condom out of my pocket, I gently coaxed it over my swollen head and positioned myself to penetrate my dear mother.

For the first time, as I guided my six and a half inches of pure desire between her legs, it wasn't just out of fear and obligation, because in that moment... I wanted it.

The barely perceptible groan of satisfaction escaping my lips didn't escape her as I slipped inside of her, and my cheeks grew hot as I caught the glance of mild disapproval on her face as I bottomed out. Although my shame was quickly tempered by the just too throaty sigh escaping her own mouth as our pelvis' made contact. Although the respite only lasted a brief moment, as the shame once again welled up within me as the realization of what was happening to us sank in. The feeling was obviously mutual, as a quick glance at my mother's face told me.

But, we had a job to do, and limited time at that. So I got to work.

Gone was the mild passion bubbling under the surface as I began my thrusting. We slipped back into the mechanical rhythm we'd made for ourselves over the last few days. Mom staring at the ceiling, me looking at the wall behind her as I thrust in and out, in and out... in... in- in... in and out. In and out. In and fucking out.

You'll have to excuse the scatter brained nature of my description here, because... well. It was at this point, about five minutes in that the mask started to slip. Mom started struggling first. The first sign was the clenching around my shaft. Something I at first chalked up to my imagination, then to the awkward position we were in on the couch with her left leg hanging over the edge. It wasn't until the throaty sighs once again began leaving her lips that I dared to consider the alternative. The book's spell was getting a hold on us, finally. Part of me had been looking forward to this moment, skeptical it would ever actually happen. Anything to make what had up to this point been such a miserable experience the slightest bit more bearable was almost welcome. Almost.

Because in the moment, now that the first signs of it happening were actually starting to show. I was conflicted. Because as the realization of what was happening sank in, I felt helpless. Something was inside of our minds, influencing us. Infecting us with a sickness, one that would eventually lead to bad, dark places. I knew that then. The book was twisting our minds, and the worst part... well, part of me was enjoying it. A little part of me, whether it came from the book or my own worst self I do not know, was revelling in the response I was getting out of her. That part of me, somewhere far in the back of my mind was leering in delight as I watched her thighs tense up, felt her walls clench around my throbbing length. That part of my mind that, as I saw her eyes clenched shut in stark contrast to the blank eyed stare she'd been giving the ceiling on our previous experiences together, cooed and purred as her back arched slightly towards the ceiling.

See, that part of my brain scared the shit out of me. Because that part of my brain didn't want this to end. In our four experiences before this, I couldn't wait until it was over. Each time was simply an exercise in concentrating enough to finish inside of the condom, so the two of us could escape the sheer horror and disgust of what we were being forced to do. Concentrating on some elaborate fantasy involving my wife, or the porn we put on the TV for the third and fourth go around's. But this time, something felt different, and I knew she was feeling it too.

I sped up my rhythm, grunting with pleasure as I approached my climax. Time was running out, and we needed to finish, so I sped up. Much to my chagrin, the increase in tempo wasn't solely because of our time constraints, because god help me I was actually starting to enjoy myself. Not too much yet, but compared to the first four shameful sexual encounters we'd had, this was practically heaven.

My orgasm approached faster and faster as I began to hurriedly thrust into my mother, her throaty sigh's growing in intensity as I went faster and faster, eventually culminating in a loud moan as I reached the edge and slammed into her, something in my mind stopping me from cumming, so I paused. Our eyes met, both of our cheeks now a deep red. Panting, we sat there for a moment staring at one another, before mom finally broke me out of the trance I'd found myself on the brink of falling into.

"We need to stop. Now. Hurry up and cum." She said, rubbing my forearm as her eyes began filling with tears. "Please son, this has gone on long enough, Dad will be home in fifteen minutes."

"Okay mom...." I said, the shame rushing back to the surface as I shoved the dark voice in the back of my head down and resumed my motions.

I was close, very close, but to my great shame just moments later, I couldn't stop myself from turning what only needed to be three more seconds of sex into closer to twenty before finally exploding. Bottoming out inside of mom, I slammed into her once again, unable to stop myself from doing it so forcefully as my dick contracted, filling the condom with a very sizeable load.

"James..." she said, voice quivering and eyes glistening with tears. "Get dressed and go home please, I need to be alone right now."

"Mom, I'm-"

"Just leave James, it's okay. We're okay, we're alive. That was just... very very uncomfortable. I'll see you tomorrow, okay sweetie? Give Tracy a hug for me." She whimpered, ushering me towards the door as I hurriedly threw my cloths back on.

I did not, in fact hug my dear wife on her behalf.

The next two times were more of the same, not much had changed.

I no longer needed any sort of external stimuli to get hard. I'd walk in the door soft, and be fully erect by the time she'd finish undressing.

Both the six and seventh times consisted of the two of us almost starting to enjoy the experience in spite of the great shame and guilt we felt at the prospect. Both times consisted of me fighting the urge to drag the experience out, with sigh's and grunts a bit too loud coming from the both of us. Both times ended with slightly too good explosions of cum into the condoms, and the two of us rushing to get away from each other the second it was done.

The eighth time... things got a little out of hand. I'll spare you the set up, because it was almost exactly the same as numbers five, six, and seven. The interesting part came after we started.

"Come on James, let's get this over with." Mom sighed, spreading her legs on the couch as I positioned myself at her entrance.

Everything was very familiar, and I resigned myself for yet another waking nightmare of a memory to be made as I parted her lips with the head of my dick.

A pleasant shiver went up my spine, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, filling my entire body with goosebumps as I slid the tip inside of her warm walls.

Looking up at my mothers face I saw a single second of bliss overcome her features as she shivered under me, arching her hips and coaxing me further inside, before she blinked hard and snapped out of it.

"You felt that too...?" I asked, my heart pounding out of my chest as I fought the urge to slam inside of her at a breakneck pace.

"Stop James..." she hissed through gritted teeth, "please... just don't say anything. Come on, let's go.... Now!" She commanded.

Not needing any further encouragement I engulfed the rest of my length inside of her, unable to stifle the sigh of satisfaction as my body finally got what it craved.

The sensation was overwhelming, every cell in my body urging me forward. To fuck her with everything I had. In that moment I wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss her, my own fucking mother, to take her tongue into my mouth and ram my way between her legs. To make her mew with delight and cum around my cock. I imagined her hands on the back of my neck, digging her nails into my back, stroking my chest as she urged me on, begging me to ravage her body with those big beautiful eyes of hers.

As I finally finished withdrawing from her sweet slit, I couldn't stop myself from slamming back into her with as much force as I could muster. My brain spun as I rammed into her once again... and again... and again... and again...

She was moaning now. Not very loudly, but loud enough for me to take notice and glance up at her face, ripping my eyes from the huge tits bouncing up and down in front of me. Her head was completely thrown back, her mouth formed a slight 'o' shape as little moans escaped her lips with each thrust.

It was when I looked back down that her hand snaked it's way around my side and found a place on my lower back. With that, I came.

Violently.

Needless to say, we couldn't get away from each other fast enough after that. My shirt hadn't even found it's way back onto my body before I was out the door, struggling to pull it over my head as I rushed to the car, leaving mom crying on the couch as we both reeled from what had just happened.

If only we knew how much more serious things were about to get... oh my fucking god. I can't even think about the ninth day without getting excited... the day everything changed.