My Sister's Wedding Pt. 06

So, I marched on, pretending to think about other stuff, like the geopolitical landscape. Lots of stuff going on there. I almost managed to fool myself before I saw my cousin right in front of me.

"Get back!" I screamed. "Don't come any closer! It isn't my fault you know!"

She didn't, she came right at my face, shutting me up with a hand over my mouth. She thumped my head against the wall.

"Shut the fuck up, you fucking idiot!"

"But the curse?" I asked. In fact, I asked: "Bo e cou?" But she understood me.

"Don't worry about the curse. It broke at the stroke of midnight. Worry about that damned hair of yours instead. That's worse than any curse."

Releasing me, she backed away. I could tell she didn't like me anymore than last time.

"When was it?" I asked.

"When was what?"

"The stroke of midnight?"

"Well, let's see. Maybe, I don't know, at the stroke of fucking midnight!" She took me by the hand, shivering as she did so, which I thought was a bit rude, and took me to a big clock on the wall. "There, I assume you are familiar with the concept of time?"

I looked at it. I felt really stupid. "But this says," I tried to think, "that it's half past two?"

Glaring at me, maybe suspecting something foul, she continued down the corridor, with just an odd facial expression back at me before she disappeared.

"Half past two?" I mumbled, feeling the world spinning around me. "But that means!"

I flapped on my back in the corridor. Eventually, a couple of the groom's relatives picked me off the floor, and when I opened my eyes, it was morning in another room. I was alone. Or so I thought. Stretching out on the queen-sized bed my mother bumped me on the head.

"Oh, I'm sorry, darling," she said. "Did you sleep well? Parcy and Thilby dragged you here late last night. You were dressed in that." She pointed at a stack of newly washed laundry. Even my suit seemed to have been going through some repairs. "Whatever were you doing?"

She didn't like a thought that came to her.

"Also, you missed your sister's wedding, young man. I had never thought that about you."

She really didn't remember? I wondered. The last time I had seen her she'd force-fucked me in a BDSM chair in her sister's basement. Something like that had to leave a trace. I was certain of it. Fuck, she'd probably still feel it today. But she looked like any kindly old mother, just worrying about what her kid had been up to last night. But she wasn't old, and her eyes were ravishing.

"Wasn't it strange yesterday?" she went on. "I don't think I had a drop before dinner, but I can barely recover a thing that happened before I had a drink! The only thing, you know what that is?"

I blushed. "No."

"I suddenly have a craving for Italian meringue pie. I had a couple of slices of the one you made, but it just made me so happy. Your dear auntie stopped me, otherwise I could have chugged the whole thing down!"

She saw me turning beetroot red, and laughing she grabbed my hands to stop me from covering myself. It all seemed so familiar, her hands so soft and willing. I got ready for it. My cock forced itself against the satin cover. I had fucked my sister yesterday, all without a curse. And Grace knew about it. Oh my god!

My mother stroked my face. "No need to feel ashamed, young man. That's the sort of thing that happens at a wedding. Feelings in the air. Me too, I ..." She blushed too, covering her mouth. "I just hope that it was one of the proper ones. I didn't like the look of some of them, Gracie's friends, you know." She looked very serious all of a sudden. "They wouldn't know a thing about what to do with my son."

Turning away from me, she got up off the bed, stretching herself. She was beautiful, and I wanted more. Instead, I did my best to hide my cock. I remembered her lips around it.

I started to cough. She came to my side of the bed. I felt her arm stroke my shaft as she held me, patted my back.

"There, there, that's better," she said. Then she kissed my cheek. Was it longer than before, or was I simply reading too much into it? I don't know. She went to take a shower, and I couldn't turn my eyes from the still open door. She was naked in there, and she hadn't closed the door. All naked, water flowing down her body, covered in steam and lather.

Did she touch herself in there, thinking about things she could barely remember? It was vivid enough in my head. She was very quiet, until I heard a small cough. She turned the shower off, got dressed, and came back to me. Mom jeans, stretching her ass, level with my face. I could do other things with her now, like with my sister. I could bury my face in that rich pussy.

Looking at me, she hesitated. Then she approached the bed again, touching me, but as if she didn't know if it was completely acceptable. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear the looked down at me.

"Come when you're ready, all right? Your aunt said she'd meet us for breakfast. She too seemed weird yesterday, I don't know. Something about a security camera."

I couldn't answer, so I just nodded, tried to smile, panic rising inside. She walked out, but before she closed the door she turned around. She touched her lips, mouth slightly parted.

"I love you, you know that right?"

"I know, mom."

The end.