Pairs of Pumpkins #10: The Embrace of Disgrace 02

He grunted triumphantly, rolling her back to lay on top of him before his erection slipped free, already gushing skyward and raining on her, compounding the crusty mess of old cum he'd made of her over weeks of relentless sex. It had been laborious but this much sweat wasn't normal for either of them. The room was hot.

She sat up, panting and dizzy, his leaking cock rising between her legs to poke at the bottom of her cleavage, as if it were her own. She stroked him as she surveyed the room. "Somethings wrong," the words struggled to form in her exhaustion but something was off about the window. It wasn't as dark as it should be.

Her nostrils flared past dulled wits. "Smoke... There's smoke. She was suddenly aware through a surge of adrenaline. "Jasper. There's a fire."

She jumped to her feet and moved to the window first. The view outside was hazy and the glass was warm.

"What do we do?! The plague!" He was wide-eyed and frozen on the edge of the bed, fingers dug into the mattress and still erect, drooling precum down his sternum.

"The fire will kill us if we don't get out. Get dressed," she started for her own neglected armor, unworn for over a month.

As if on queue, a small flame burst into existence in a corner of the room and Jasper screamed. He threw the bed's quilt around him and jumped to his feet then charged to the door. "There's no time."

She cursed, grabbed one of her tomahawks and gave the new fire a second look, while Jasper fumbled to unlock the door.

"MOM! COME ON!' he swung it open and turned back to her offering the blanket, hanging around his shoulders. She ran to him and scooped him up against her, then pulled the door behind her as they rushed out into the night.

Crisp, sea air enveloped them for the first time in weeks and the blue darkness of the waterfront at night flickered orange with flames. They'd barely gotten a look at their surroundings when they'd hurried to the safe house and had seen nothing more than the view out their window since.

The Lowtown docks were needled with cranes, ramps and carts for loading and unloading of ships, several large ones of which were moored. Between the ships were stacks of crates of several, standard sizes.

Pockets of other residents and workers were already gathered outside, a few groups standing apart from each other as best they could at shouting range, well aware of the continued plague. Some looked their way.

"The door didn't shut, Mom!"

She spun around to see, then set him down. "Wait across the street," she ordered before ripping away, his still-swollen, cudgel of erect, vulpine cock falling free like an extra forearm and fist, glistening with fresh wetness in the firelight.

Her eyes and jaw fell as it did and the heat in her loins reignited. After all this time, it was as easy as salivating. He wrapped himself up in the blanket, wide-eyed and embarrassed, far more aware than her that they were not alone.

She shook it off and pressed the tomahawk against his chest. "Hold this." She twisted away and started back toward the door, hugging her cum-crusted breasts to restrain them as she ran, naked in the street.

Portia ducked half into the doorway to grab the door handle before she froze, mortified: the ledger! It was on a small table, in the middle of the room, which was mercifully not yet burning. She'd almost lost it again!

"Mom! What are you doing!?"

She hurried in and scooped it up in her arms. Hadn't there just been a fire inside? It had gone out and she gave herself an extra moment to scan the room for anything critical. Equipment was all replaceable and she could only carry so much. Her fitted armor was expensive but took too long to put on. The Religite necklace! She'd left it on the nightstand, a rock on a chain that nullified all magic directed at its wearer.

She didn't like to take off but the safehouse was a haven. The charm was small but surprisingly heavy and was on a chain long enough to batter her chin, breasts and sternum when Jasper had her bent over at his most enthusiastic, so it had sat for over a month on the bedside. It was so rare that few believed relagite even existed and after all she'd been through to get it, it was almost certainly irreplaceable. She ran for it and set the ledger down to put on the necklace, then scooped it back.

That was enough. Her son was alone out there and the smoke was getting worse. The neighbors had already seen her naked. and she hadn't been shy about her body for ages, She rushed out of the safehouse, stopping to pull the door securely shut. Her son waited for her as told, wrapped up and holding her weapon with his back to a stacked pile of shipping crates. She hurried back to him and he opened the blanket to beckon her, trying to obscure his own nudity as best as he could.

The ground was cold and wet under her bare feet from the misty air, the cobblestone extending beyond the width of the street, a thick border and seawall before the wood planks of the docks began, just behind him. Even for the stink of old kelp and barnacles, the smell of the sea was a welcome change to the stuffy and stagnant sex den they'd been trapped in.

"You almost forgot the book!?"

Portia pulled him close, turning them so they could both see the spreading fire. "Almost."

Their building, a four-story, wooden warehouse block, topped with attic windows and sat upon a stone foundation and below-ground-level basements, was burning at its far end. Down the street in one direction, several others also were aflame, seeming to be shops and apartments. The other direction, where there was no fire, was purely industrial and not burning at all.

It was then she noticed how many of the people were looking at them. Some staring. Some leering. Some scowling. She couldn't imagine how they appeared: vixen and tod, woman and boy, just barely a man. Mother and obvious son? How much did they know? Could they see the cum caked in her fur when they'd all seen her run back in, naked? Had they seen Jasper's erect cock, still wet from the warm passage he'd been meant to be born from?

Her muscles tensed instinctively. No time for such worries now. "We need to see if anyone is still inside." She started to move but he squeezed her tighter.

"I'm psychic, Mom. Remember? Let me check from here. People are still sick."

She sighed and nodded, nestling back against him. "Do it fast. I'll go in if you find someone."

His eyes darted over the building, scanning in deliberate passes and she tapped her feet, shifting her weight as she waited.

"No one's left in there. We were the last ones."

She exhaled a deep relief. "A little distracted, I guess. Down the street?"

He obliged, furrowing his brow to concentrate, then moving his eyes from building to building. "I'm not sure what kind of range I have but as far as I can tell, they're all empty. More people are living here than I expected."

"Same here. I didn't think this was a residential area but we're probably not the only people in town hiding from something. What about them? Can you tell if any of them are worrying about someone left inside?"

Jasper nodded and scanned the block slowly, from one end to the other, eyes darting from person to person. "None of them are. Everyone is accounted for. But... a lot of them saw you. Those sailors up there are talking about you."

She followed a gesture of his muzzle down the docks to a small group of various species, peeking over the bow of one of the larger ships, half consumed by the fog of the harbor. They watched the fire but also, the two of them. Crooked grins and gleaming eyes greeted her. They had the look of scoundrels.

She drew up the deepest, longest cough she could fake, the tomahawk tight in her hand, now under the quilt. It became more convincing when she coughed herself hoarse and it trailed off into a real one. Jasper was distracted.

"Some of them saw both of us. Those people saw my penis!" He turned away from a family of dogs.

"Oh."

"Just the parents."

"Oh..." she repeated, this time with relief.

"But the parents... I think they know exactly what we were doing. And they figured out that you're my mom."

She sighed and shrugged. I don't care." The words just fell out, like an instinct. Didn't she? Two months ago she considered abandoning her family to cure a burning shame. She'd considered a magical lobotomy to escape it. She couldn't deny the darker thoughts she'd had, peering over the Bridge of the Allicans. Now it all seemed so trivial, no worse than any other vice. It felt strangely natural to say it and mean it.

Portia opened the quilt enough to set the heavy ledger down on the pile of crates then pulled him close, turning him to face off with her, then cupped his cheek in her free hand. She nuzzled his nose then kissed him on the mouth, first chastly, then not. He shivered as he broke the kiss, his eyes trapped by hers.

"She has to fuck him while I get to fuck you." She looked back to the dog family, the wife seeming particularly appalled. "And I'm thinking about fucking you."

Jasper chuckled. "I don't think they do that very often. Something is weird though." Don't look around but..."

She gave a huff as she caught herself. The shame of her incestuous desire was gone but she still needed her wits in a moment like this.

"Shit. Did anyone recognize you?"

"No. I haven't been part of the ceremonial stuff yet. But a city watchman is hanging out in the shadows. An otter lady. That pile of crates between the two galleons. Look now. She's transfixed by the fire."

Portia nodded slowly and turned her eyes first only down the road, then her head just enough to get the rest of the way. The fog was getting thicker, quickly but a single figure in the full protection suit of the City Watch, balloon and all, lurked against one of the taller stacks of crates.

"She was the one who did this. They think the plague is because of dirty, poor people."

"That notice stuck in our window. Let's get her."

Horns rang out then, a delayed warning from the arriving fire brigade and the otter turned to run. Jasper squeezed her close by her shoulders. "We can't prove anything. "

"There's more justice than just the law."

"Yes, but there's still a plague! And you're naked. And we're both wanted."

She sighed again.

"Also, I think those sailors might follow you if you did."

"A person's mind is as distinct as their face. I'll remember her. We can deal with that once all this is over."

The air grew thicker as they spoke until dew was accumulating on their fur. The fog was rolling in from the sea like a wall. She watched the ships that were disappearing in it.

"Could we escape on one of those?" Jasper asked.

"They're all too big for a crew of two, at least a crew of two who don't know how to sail."

"You don't know how to sail?"

"Your mother isn't perfect, dear. Just close. We could try to find a rowboat or canoe but in this fog?"

She lifted her muzzle over his to look back to the buildings and the fire, also fading into the mist. Fewer of the other groups could be seen and heard now, muffled by the dense air, then silenced. It was relentless until it was opaque, leaving the pair all alone on the street, but for some crates and a neglected gaslamp. The light of the flames was the last distant thing to be swallowed in the fog.

She walked them carefully to the crate and put his back against it. She slipped back from him, free and naked with her weapon at ready, bringing her back against her quilt-wrapped son.

"Mom, is this normal?"

"You live here. I was going to ask you."

"I can see fog in Low Town often but it's always so far away from my window in the Palace. I never thought it would be so thick."

Jasper started to shiver and pulled his arms around his mother. The cool sea air was as thick with moisture as she'd ever felt air to be and she twisted the tomahawk in her grip to see its metal finish glistening with dew, as if she'd left it out overnight.

"Don't worry. No one is coming."

She nodded, halfway to relaxed. "Keep it up. You never know." His limp cock was nestled between her cheeks but she wasn't about to let her guard down when she could only see a few feet away.

The moment was tense and long, the passage of time distorted from so much time indoors and out of the sun. It felt like forever but it could have been nothing.

"Mom? What do we do if the safe house burns down?"

"Then we'll deal with it. We have our health and our wits. We'll find shelter, clothing and safety. And a rowboat."

"What if we don't have our health? What if we got the plague from being outside?"

"We haven't gotten close to anyone, and all these people were locked up too. If any of them were ill, they'd have died weeks ago."

"What if they survived but they're still carrying it?"

"You read their minds, didn't you?"

"Sure but it's like reading faces, but like, a layer deeper. It doesn't tell me everything."

"Was anyone thinking about being sick?"

"No. They were scared of getting sick."

"See?"

Jasper fell silent and pulled her closer. "Mom, I'm scared too."

Portia sighed and inspected the weapon in her hand, then bent down to set it at her feet. She turned around and scooped an arm into the quilt, pulling him against her. Her other hand brought his head to her bosom. "Who wouldn't be?"

She squeezed him tighter. "But we're going to be fine. We're strong."

"Are we?"

"I'm strong, right? You saw your mother crack some heads."

Jasper chuckled. "You are strong."

"I am. And you have my blood. Twice as much as I do!"

"Right. Because I'm inbred."

She clenched her jaw and winced. She hadn't thought that out. He'd read the book just as she had and knew most of the inbred children hadn't turned out well. Some of them were flawed, A few runts. A beast, a couple of troublemakers, a daughter who killed a man when she was still a child.

"You're the most handsome, most fuckable inbred I've ever met."

Her joke didn't shake him as well as it should have, so she squeezed his shoulders and pulled him to look into his eyes.

"We're not weak, Jasper. You're not weak. And we're going to survive this. Do you understand?"

He nodded meekly.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

His eyes glistened and he nodded again, now with a hint of confidence before he slipped back in to hug her. "I love you, Mom."

She held him against her, his head over her shoulder. "I love you too."

"You're a good mom. Your other sons and daughters are going to be so happy to meet you."

Her eyes closed before she could cry silently. In shame. In joy. She could feel the tears escaping to his shoulder beneath but his back was wrapped in the quilt. He hopefully wouldn't notice and so she let them fall.

Time passed but there was no urgency anymore. Whatever was to happen, would happen.

Jasper was the first to move. "Mom, the fog is breaking. And I think the fire is out!"

She opened her eyes to the pile of crates behind him and looked around. The fog was thinning and slowly revealed the waterfront, with all fires extinguished. Their building emerged, every bit as intact as they'd left it.

Horns rang out from down the street, shouted through a cone. "The Fire brigade has extinguished the fire. Please return to your homes immediately! The lockdown is still in effect!"

"How'd they..."

Portia shrugged then scooped him up against her and walked back to the safehouse. "Who knows? Let's go to bed."

To be concluded...