Natal Philopatry and You

"...Well, he was like you. I could never tell him no."

Wait, did she say siblings?

His internal question disappeared as he felt a hot, moist suction descend over his cockhead. Wet, enthusiastic sounds emerged from the darkness; his mother was sucking him off. Worse, he thought, as his hips began to arch and his clawed hands began to dig into the sheets, she was an absolute expert at it; what she couldn't fit into a throat that apparently had no gag reflex, she expertly worked with her hands, the mixture of precum and saliva making them feel like a host of strong tongues circling and moving up and down along the base of his shaft and knot. She knew exactly what she was doing, maintaining a hard suction the entire time, even as he felt the tapered end of his cock bump into the back of her throat. She kept swallowing, and swallowing, and swallowing; the muscles of her mouth and throat undulating around him, milking him for the jets of salty, tangy lubricant his canine cock would periodically fountain down into her stomach. He continued to whine and writhe under her attack, until finally, completely to his surprise, he heard himself moan out, "Oh...! Oh, mom...!"

She stopped suddenly, nearly setting him off as she came off of him with a loud *POP* that made his knees shake and his head snap backward into the pillow. Her hands stopped moving, but held him tight around his mid-shaft in a way that kept him teetering on the edge. It was as though she could read his body better than he could.

"It makes me really happy when you call me that, you know? I never got to see any of my kids grow up. Having you here... it really fills a void. I know I haven't been the best mom, but..."

He felt her hands release him. She scooted forward on his torso, leaning forward over him to grab his thick, muscular arms for support, grabbing handfuls of his fur in a way that made him unsure if he was back in the dream again. If this had -all- been a dream. He felt the wet, warm entrance of her pussy descend on his cock, pinning it back against his muscled stomach as she began to gyrate her hips back and forth, teasing him with an agonizing slowness as she sandwiched his dick between them. "...but if you let me, I'd love to make it up to you. Let mommy spoil you?"

He opened his eyes once more, as though to try and discern if this -was- still a dream, and he was about to bust a fat, thick wet-dream nut into this poor woman's sheets. But as he looked around the room, everything felt too real; the chill of the night air, the warmth of her body against his, the motes of dust dancing in the light filtering in from the hallway...

The light still wasn't at the right angle to reveal her whole body, but as she had moved forward on him, the beam, he realized, now fell upon her torso. As she rocked gently back and forth, having pulled her tiny underwear to the side at some point, he could now see that her pussy was shaven bald, the tight, taut little opening depositing copious amounts of grool across his shaft as she rode him. More importantly, it fell across the thing in the dark he couldn't recognize earlier; her nightie having fallen completely open, he could see the tattoo that snaked up the side of her belly above her thigh: A series of black pawprints, weaving across the faint, tigerstripe marks of motherhood, travelling up to her belly...

He thought of the picture; the way his father had been holding on to her like she was his possession. In his mind's eye, he imagined that tattoo crawling up that pregnant, sweat covered belly. Of his mother, young, happy, fertile; jogging around a beastman neighborhood, showing off how she was marked. Showing off who she loved.

"Oh!" He heard his mother exclaim as a smart, sudden slap echoed through the room, his hands coming down to grip her soft, round thighs roughly. He heard himself growling, a low, aggressive sound that he hadn't made since the worst parts of doing time. The newly-incensed prodigal son pulled her forward, just enough so that he felt the slick, fat, tapered tip of his cock align with her pussy, snagging upward into her entrance--and then pushed her backwards, sinking the majority of his cock in his mother's welcoming folds, the point of his puppy-pecker perfectly shaped to guide him all the way inside.

"MmMMmmMMMmmm...!" He felt her body shiver atop him as he swiftly sank inch after inch into her depths. She fell forward on top of him, grabbing weakly at fleeting handfuls of fur hemming his broad, sculpted chest. He felt her breath, hot and slow against him. She lay there, listening to his heart thudding away beneath her for a moment, acclimating to the newfound fullness, feeling the spreading warmth within her as his twitching, tapered cockhead, now nestled up against her cervix where it belonged, began to deposit a growing pool of precum at the entrance to her womb. She felt a familiar, tugging ache in her abdomen, nostalgic, beloved...

"I love it, but be gentle with mommy, okay...?"

A pang of guilt went through him--until he felt her head lift up from his chest, craning forward as she lifted herself an inch or two off his dick so as to strain to her full height, the warmth of her breath moist and heavy against his face as she whispered cheek-to-cheek with him.

"...After all, you're a lot bigger than your papa was."

Once again acting out the events of the dream, he found himself suddenly on top of her, holding her tiny body down, slamming brutally into the womb that bore him. At some point, he had simply ripped the bra off of her, freeing her milky white breasts, bouncing in time with his assault. The dusting of freckles across them was a mesmerizing map to nowhere; a constellation he found himself lost in as he railed her soft, yielding body. A million different feelings raged through him, making Robin's screams of ecstasy seem distant in his head; not only was his mother a beastman-chaser, she was the WORST kind; a career breeding bitch who couldn't control herself, even around her own son. A natural born knot-pocket, made exclusively to be pinned down and filled with beastmen's kids and to love every second of doing it.

He remembered punching kids out on the playground who had insinuated that his mother must have been that kind of woman because he was an orphan; now he knew that his mother's legs had probably been open for business for so long and to so many different kinds of beast-cock that he might've been punching one of his own half-siblings back then and not known it. He wanted to hate her, but at the same time, her warmth, her love, and her acceptance was like nothing he'd ever experienced; he knew, even as he raged about the childhood he had lost out on, that he could never bring himself to hurt this woman. His canine snout pressed into hers in a sloppy kiss as he all but fucked her throat with his long, dexterous tongue; her appreciation became unintelligible; groans and sharp exhalations transmitted up through their dancing tongues and mouths; through his chest pressed against hers. She lingered over his sharp teeth as though she aimed to count them out in his mouth, completely unafraid of them; rather, it seemed she was enamored with them, so different from her own; so dangerous. Strong arms held her smooth, lithe legs in place, pinned back against her body as his hefty leg and back muscles, gained through a lifetime of needing to convince people with strength rather than words, helped him slam his hips repeatedly against hers. His abdominal muscles rippled with effort as flesh slapped methodically against flesh in a rhythm that was driving his mother insane. Every time his prodigious puppycock pulled out of her, her wildly clamping pussy muscles would spasm desperately at the loss, greedy for more; as the gap closed again, the web of grool and precum between them shutting with a wet slap as he hilted himself knot-deep inside her, they would tug appreciatively around him; warm, wet, and sucking him in as Robin expertly worked her kegel muscles to show him her motherly love.

Feeling himself rocketing closer and closer to his finish, he let her legs down, allowing them to fall to his sides and change up his angle of penetration so he could try, as hard as he might, to last longer. She was clearly doing everything in her power to make him cum, eager to feel him lose control; even now, as his newly freed hands captured hers and pinned them above her head and into the pooling mass of red hair, he felt her gyrating her hips, trying to meet his thrusts in a way that he was certain had caused countless beastmen before him to give in. He released her from the kiss, but only so he could immediately begin attacking her breasts, taking her large pink nipples into his open muzzle, sucking, nipping, and kneading with his powerful tongue and mouth; she writhed under his ministrations, absolutely drunk on the things her son was doing to her. He found himself wishing her tits were full of milk for him to drink, so his useless beast-slut mother could breastfeed him for once in her life, like a proper mom.

Darkly, from some unknown place within him, the realization arose: If he kept pumping into her as he was doing, he just might get his wish.

His cock twitched powerfully within her at the thought. He stopped thrusting for a moment in favor of simply grinding the pointed head of his cock into her womb again, anointing it with another heavy jet of precum as his abs clenched, his heart racing at the taboo thought of making his own mother carry his litter. Who knew how many of his swimmers were already wriggling around inside her? He imagined the strange, squiggly little tadpoles running wild, seeking out an egg to claim; it would only take one to knock her up. He had been so close to busting in his dream earlier, no doubt leaving the dangerous, virile remains of a load he never got to shoot; just pent up and ready to fire. There wasn't a scrap of protection between them--there was nothing to stop his determined little soldiers from spreading out within the broad, soft tummy laid out before him. Every time he flexed and pressed his cockhead into the yielding little pocket of flesh beneath his mother's cervix into which his tip had slid, her body seized up in appreciation, her abs clenching and her body sinuously shifting beneath him, a strangled cry rising from her throat as her head arched backwards into the mattress. She was taking full advantage of his heavy weight bearing down on her, the depth and angle of his penetration, combined with how hard his body was pressed into hers, allowing for her to mash her clit in gyrating circles of her hips against the seemingly insurmountable obstacle of his fattening knot. Was it already too late for him?

Above, he suddenly felt her arms tensing and shifting in a token effort to get free--but even this was a play on Robin's part; one that worked splendidly. She knew exactly how he would react. Alex was more and more a creature of instinct by now, and her attempts only caused him to hold her down HARDER, his toothy maw closing around the nape of her neck just enough to let her feel the points of his teeth, his hot breath spilling out over her vulnerable flesh in time with his thrusts in a way that sent her over the edge again, and again, and again.

He held on for as long as he could, but eventually, he felt himself nearing the point of no return. Expertly handled though he was, with Robin's tricks doing everything in their power to make Alex lose himself in her soft, yielding body, there was still a glimmer of common sense somewhere deep within; trying desperately to raise its voice over the din of the ravening animal that was currently hyperfocused on flooding this fertile mate's womb and claiming her as his own. He felt another low growl roiling out from deep within his throat, rising in pitch, rising; he felt his hackles beginning to stand up, he was so close, it was almost too late--he tried, at the very last moment, to pull away from her, to back out of the incestuous pact his body was about to rush headlong into.

It was then he felt her long legs swiftly locking tight around his broad back. His muscles strained against hers, but the expertly-lain animal trap had been sprung. As he strained against her embrace, his futile efforts only resulting in him lifting her entire body up off the bed, he felt her tilt her head down to one of his fuzzy, twitching ears, her breath tickling him as she whispered. His jaws were still locked around the nape of her neck, his whole body tensed as he teetered painfully on the edge of an orgasm he was fighting a losing battle to defer. His world was all sensations now, his eyes screwed shut: The feel of her body around him, her hot breath, her needy, ready body pulling him in, milking him, accepting him--

"Shhhh. Come home to mommy."

He felt, rather than saw, that impish, secretive, satisfied smile on her face; her honeyed, loving words pouring over him in the dark.

With a rush of strength he could not match, the trap slammed fully shut on its victim, and he felt his knot snap past the taut, swollen lips of her pussy and embed itself deep within her, rapidly beginning to engorge. Her body shuddered in orgasm as it pressed up against her insides in a way she'd come to know and love, pushing up against thousands of nerve endings trained time and time again to adore this unique sensation; the entrance to her cervix began winking open and shut in time with the powerful contractions that washed over her, laying open her fertile field for the ropes of cum her son was shooting, one after another, deep inside her. The muscles of her legs burned as they desperately closed harder, trying instinctually to pull more of his length into her, and she felt her toes curling as her body did everything in its power to make sure she conceived. Defeated, Alex could do nothing but press forward into her, letting her body back down on to the bed and putting his full weight on her as he mashed his twitching, spurting prick into her welcoming womb.

Between the daydreaming he'd done earlier, the dream he'd had over the course of his nap, and being kept so hard for so long as she toyed with him, he had been edged long enough to brew up a truly massive load. He felt his furry, baseball-sized testes drawing up again and again against his mother's twitching asshole as he finally achieved the release he'd been denied all day, draining their contents deep into the spasming, undulating vice of flesh he had found himself locked into. Though Alex still gave a weak, fading struggle against his fate, all his body understood was that it had just knotted a fertile, ready female in heat.

Without realizing how, he found his head thrown back, howling into the night, his lover's arms knit around his neck and back. Dutifully, she expertly tilted her hips back and forth, knowing just how to sway her hips beneath him in order to keep his aftershocks cumming and cumming. By the time he collapsed, unconscious atop his mother, her belly already looked slightly rounded, having coaxed what was probably the hardest orgasm of her son's life into her waiting womb.

*****

The night was still again. His heavy panting had gradually calmed to slow, even breaths. She had just enough reach to grab the corner of the fallen covers, pulling them over the both of them. Her son's long, wet tongue lolled from his open mouth, its tip lying against the pocket above one of her collarbones in a way that felt delightfully ticklish. She smiled; he looked adorable, this way. Alex was now fast asleep against her, his knot still fat and bulging within her, making sure none of his cum escaped his new mate... she found herself giggling a little as she thought to herself, absurdly, about the great mass of muscle and sinew which now weighed down on her, filling her, warming her with his delightful bodyheat from without and within: I made this.

Gently, she began stroking her newfound boy's back, kissing his sleeping face gently as she basked in the familiar, tugging fullness she'd gone so long without. "Good boy. My sweet, sweet boy."

*****

Robin had thought her childbearing years were over. Frankly, she'd heard the gamut of jokes from her old friends: Jabs that she'd finally run out of eggs, because she'd used them all popping out beastmen. That her ovaries had gone on strike from overwork. That the government had finally gotten around to sterilizing her in secret, so they could finally balance the social services budget. That she'd had so many buns in her oven, she'd run out of yeast.

It wasn't without reason; in the distant future, scientists might stand in awe and confusion at the sudden explosion of her particular mitochondrial DNA markers; the fingerprints of her life stamped on hundreds of family trees, spanning out into the unknown future. Immortalized in the bloodlines of every kind of beastfolk imaginable, she had left of a bit of herself everywhere that they dwelt. (Sometimes, a little more than a bit.)

Robin had been busy. Her work took her places.

Nature has a funny sense of humor, though. Alex had well and truly drenched her baby-room with his thick, young, potent sperm. Deep inside the womb he had just claimed for his own, now packed tight with her son's love, one of his millions of wriggling little soldiers gently nudged its way into the egg that had been waiting, ready for it. Implanting into the sperm-soaked lining of her uterus, shutting out the rest of the teeming suitors her boy had just shot inside her, it began to divide, one becoming two, two becoming four, four becoming eight...

In the dark, secret warmth between two lovers, new life began to bloom. Mother reunited with son, in the most beautiful way possible.