Prague Spring

What did my mom taste like? I don't know how to describe it. It was funky, it was a little awful, a little fantastic. My recommendation: you taste your own mom's vaginal secretions and get back to me on how she tastes. We'll compare notes.

As I did this, I made contact with her clit. First with my fingers, holding it at the sides, for greater access. Then with my tongue. Mom was starting to chant. "No, no, no, no, no." I immediately translated that as "yes, yes, yes." She made no attempt to slow me or divert me from my actions.

And a moment later, her noes rang to an epic high. Her thighs quivered around me, as I diddled her to a powerful orgasm.

"Pavel, put it in, put it in me, now."

You don't argue with your mother when she tells you this. I got up, and in seconds took off my clothes. I got on top of her, and she reached for my cock, which was as hard as cocks get. She pulled me into position.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

I nodded at her. I push my hips forward, and felt my cock start to enter her pussy. I wish I could have seen it. I wish I could have filmed that moment. I don't know when I went from horny teenager to incestuous motherfucker—was it when I got the first millimeter in? Half way? All the way? Whatever, I guess it makes no difference. It happened.

The feeling of entering her was like none other. I couldn't see the action down there, but I could see mom's face as I entered her and moved deeper and deeper. There was a little fear, and a little guilt, and a lot of pleasure.

"You're amazing, mom," I told her. "This is amazing."

"Don't talk, son. We're still practicing."

"Talking will be part of the movie. But I'm not practicing any more. I'm really making love to you, and you're making love to me."

"Do you love me, Pavel?"

"Maybe too much, mom." What a time to be honest! But that's what came out of my mouth.

"I love you maybe too much too."

"Then we should at least enjoy this."

Mom agreed, and I kissed her. This time, she really kissed back.

I would love to say how I rode her softly to mutual bliss. I had been able to achieve that with Anna, though it took a lot of practice. In this case, though, my sperm blasted out of me in about a minute after entering mom. It was way too soon, and took me by complete surprise.

Afterwards, I was so wrung out, I couldn't talk. Finally, I said, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"No need to feel sorry. It happens, especially on your first time. It's probably good for the movie that we did it like this. You'll be able to last longer next time."

That made sense, though little else in the world did right then.

"Mom, you're not mad at me?"

"No, sweetheart. You've made me very happy. I haven't felt so loved and appreciated in a long time."

Emotion overcame me. I wept, and soon mom was weeping too. Only for different reasons, I'm sure.

I fell asleep. I dreamed someone had handed me the key to a medieval palace, and then I had to walk around looking for the lock which opened the door to the fortress gates. My key seemed very old-fashioned, and the doors seemed to have new locks. This was very frustrating, as I knew that what was inside the gates was highly desirable. Freud, he really knew what he was talking about, right?

When I woke up, I was surprised to find mom gone. I had the feeling that we were going to fall right back into what we were doing, so I was disappointed.

At first, I couldn't find her, which was alarming given how small our apartment was. I found her on the front step, smoking a cigarette. She had put on the minimum amount of clothes. I had rarely seen her smoking before, something she did only when very stressed.

"Mom, come back inside. It's cold."

"I'll be back when I'm ready."

"I..." I was about to make a play for our continued romp, when I saw the look on her face. "I can make you some tea," I said, hoping to stay out of trouble.

"I can make my own tea."

"Yes, I know you can."

Mom wasn't about to saying anything else, so I closed the door and let her finish her smoke.

She came back in half an hour later. I was pretending to be studying. Or, I was trying to study, but I was finding it impossible to keep my eyes and mind on the book. I kept my head down, when the door closed.

"That was stupid," mom said.

"What?" I said, as if I didn't understand.

"We shouldn't have done that."

"Why?"

"That was incest."

"Yeah, so?"

"It's against the law."

"Yeah, so? I don't think the police are going to knock on the door any time soon."

"It's also immoral."

"Says who."

"Says everyone. Says the Bible."

"Yeah, but people do it. People even in the Bible do it."

"What do you know about the Bible?" Mom's grandfather was a pastor, so she knew a lot about the Bible. And I grew up with it too.

"Lot slept with his daughters. He was Abraham's brother-in-law."

"Yes, and his wife got turned into a pillar of salt."

"Really? Cool. But what happened to Lot and his daughters?"

"We still shouldn't have done it."

"Any other reason?"

"I don't think I want to make the movie."

"That's fine, mom. I understand. I can call my friend. He'll be disappointed, but he'll live."

"You do that."

"I tell you what. I'll call him in an hour. I see you're upset. But maybe you'll feel differently in an hour."

"Now."

"OK." I called. "He's not picking up. I'll leave a message."

"Just tell him to call you back. Don't say why you're calling."

"Sure."

Things were weird between my mom and me for the next few days. I tried to play things cool, but what can I say? I was a horny bastard, and every time I looked at her, I wanted us to be back in bed, thrashing around. She wore her most unrevealing clothing—long flannel robe at breakfast, unflattering long dresses during the day. It didn't matter. I could still see her strawberry nipples in front of me, the look on her face as I made her fall into orgasm.

I thought of tempting her with the money again. Didn't she want the car, so she could leave her boring job to have her own taxi? But I realized she knew all that. She didn't need to be reminded. If the idea of turning her life around by just having a little sex with me wasn't enough of a motivator, then nothing was.

It took me a week to figure out that there was something I could do. So at dinner on Friday, I apologized. I brought home a nice piece of meat, which she turned into a delicious meal. As we were eating quietly, I said, "Mom, I apologize. I know you don't want to talk about it, but I see how much you're hurting inside. It was wrong of me to suggest it. It was wrong for me to go through with it. I should have known. I'm really sorry for everything I've done."

Mom laid down her fork. "You have no idea."

And that's all she said. I was expecting an explanation, something.

"What do you mean?" I finally came out with.

"That's all. You have no idea."

"I have no idea how much I hurt you? I know I did. I'm trying to apologize. Can you accept that?"

"I don't need an apology. The problem isn't with you, it's with me." She paused. "The problem is, I liked it. I've always liked sex. Your father and I had a great sex life. It's been very hard without him. I know it's been hard for you, and it's been even harder for me."

I don't know how much she knew how hard it was for me growing up without a beloved father. Yeah, other kids in school were missing fathers too, but that didn't make it any easier. Still, now wasn't the time to get into that.

"I could fuck you again," said mother. "And if I did, I could keep fucking you. You're a horny teenager. I'm a woman in my prime, and I may be just as horny as you, or more. But I am not going to get into a sexual relationship with my son. And I am not going to allow my need for a man make me lose my scruples for a lousy car. Or make a movie that the whole world can see. The way I see it, I have two choices. I could fuck you again, be rich, and regret that the rest of my life. Or I can be moral, and sleep well at night."

"I understand. I just want to say, I may not have slept well this week, but I don't have regrets. Other than that I put you in this position. But as for myself, I enjoyed what we did. No, actually it thrilled me past the point of anything I've ever done in life. So I don't regret it at all."

Mom's eyes lit up. "How is it possible you did something so wrong and don't regret it? I don't get that."

"You've done other things wrong in life. You've cheated on dad. You've stolen things. Do you regret everything you've ever done wrong?"

Mom sat thinking. "Maybe some more than others. I broke my sister's doll when she was mean to me, and then lied about it. I felt pretty good about that then, though I have a little regret now."

"That's a good example. So why do you regret now?"

"I know it was the wrong thing to do. I guess it's only a little regret because it was so long ago, and I was just a girl myself. And my sister was so mean to me." (That would be Aunt Lilja, and she's been an A number 1 bitch all her life.)

"So at the time you reveled in your actions, then only years later, you came to regret it. You could apologize to your sister if you wanted to, but I guess your regrets aren't strong enough to make you do that."

"I think I know what you're getting at. Regrets are a social construct that are imposed on us to make us feel bad and keep us from doing the things we really want."

Maybe this is why I'm a philosophy major. Mom never got to go to college, and maybe she would have become a philosopher.

"No, actually my point is..." And suddenly I didn't remember what my point was. It was something simpler and stupider than my mom's point. "You know, I'm going to go with what you said. If you want something, and it doesn't hurt anyone, then what's wrong with you going out and doing it?"

"But having sex with my son does hurt people. Maybe it doesn't hurt you right now, or me, but it will, down the road. Whether it's a social construct or not, I know I'll regret it. And you might not feel it now, but you will. Maybe when you get married and start having a sexual relationship with some lovely girl you're not related to, and you think of me when she takes her clothes off. You'll be sorry then."

"Good point. But right now, my major regret is that we could be having some amazing sex this very moment, and instead we're just talking. If I'm going to regret doing it once, the regret for having done it twice, or three times isn't going to be that much more. Meantime, the pleasure will be hugely greater."

"You want me that much?" Mom asked, and I could sense the hunger behind those words.

"More. Much more."

Mom stood up, and headed for the bedroom. I was step by step with her. We tore off our clothes, and proceeded to fuck like monkeys. It was animal, base, primal.

It seemed like my cock never went down. I came in her, and then kept going. She shuddered her orgasms, one after another, and never asked for a moment's reprieve. She shouted at me to keep pounding her, and I did. I told her keep taking it, and she did. By the time we eventually finished, the sheets were oozing.

"My god," I said, when I awoke from the deepest, most satisfactory sleep I ever had, and looked over at her naked form, still in bed with me. "That was unbelievable."

We never fucked again after that. We knew it could never be like that again, and we didn't want to ruin the memory. Well, that plus there was a governmental change that very day, and dad was paroled two weeks later. And I got a girlfriend, who only coincidentally looked a lot like mom.

I had no regrets, and mom and I never talked about it again. And the best part was, I got to keep the 10,000 koruna I had saved up to make the movie. I didn't use it for a car, but for a down payment on a house in the center of Prague. I fixed it up, rented it out, and became a successful landlord.