Real Dead Ringer for Mom

Then all of a sudden she felt herself being filled up and something curling to rub at her g-spot. She curled up and squealed in delight when she looked down in the dark to see two of Steven's fingers buried to the knuckle.

'No, Steven, too far,' she cried but it was too late. One moment she was wrestling with the offending hand, clamping down around him with all her will, and then the next she was coming all over said hand, writhing and convulsing as he rubbed harder and licked roughly at her engorged clit.

She took long enough to recover after that. Lying there draped over the chair's soaked seat, she could only watch helplessly as Steven petted her spent pussy with sweet little kisses and caresses.

'Was it like in the story, mom?' he asked tenderly.

'Words couldn't describe how the non-fictional Steven just made me feel, baby,' she whispered back. 'But it's time. I have to get back. I'm sorry.' And even though it was all some drastic ruse gone wrong, Belinda meant that last part. She was as sorry as she was grateful, because if he found out the truth at this point, he might be devastated by it.

Instead he smiled, showing that his gratitude was mutual, and actually pulled her skirt back down in place, the way it was before. 'That's okay mom. I'm glad. And we won't speak of this until you come to me. But if you ever want to do this again, please come to me whenever you want to, okay?'

Belinda's heart melted. She was both so loved up and turned on, and to such a degree, that she felt herself stiffening for him.

'Close your eyes for me,' she said. And when he did, she kissed him on the lips. Then upon tasting herself on him, she sought his tongue with her own, revelling in her own depravity. 'You're the sweetest boy I could ask for. Now run along home and I'll see you tomorrow.'

12

Not a word had been spoken in over an hour. It wasn't what they were used to at all. On most quiet nights at the hotel, when there wasn't general handiwork to be done, Brenda and Greta couldn't shut up. Now for some reason Brenda couldn't for the life of her think of what to say. Greta seemed not to want to speak at all.

Close to 9PM the front door swung in, blowing a cool draught through the lobby area and a wet and breathless Belinda came sailing in, wearing a wet blue denim jacket over the clothes she had "borrowed". She hadn't thought too hard about what she was wearing by that point. Letting out a hefty sigh, she held up Brenda's missing phone and reached out to hand it back.

'Oh my god, where was it?'

'I think I owe you an apology, Bren. It was in my handbag. Don't ask how-

'Are those my clothes you're wearing?' Brenda recognised. 'Why are you wearing my-

'Oh for god's sake,' Greta mumbled. Nobody paid attention.

'That reminds me. Can I borrow this skirt right now?' Belinda asked.

'No, you absolutely cannot!' Brenda protested, folding her arms. 'I can't believe you–

'Do you want it back, like, right now though–

'You little f—

'Oh please, you two,' Greta snapped. 'You're so immature. I can't be dealing with this right now.'

The twin sisters looked at each other and then to Greta in disbelief as she put on her coat and then snatched up her handbag. Rather than wonder what she had done wrong, Brenda stood back and allowed Greta to march right by her.

'So immature,' she repeated. 'I can't get a moment's silence around Brenda. Then the two of you together, all week long?! I've had it up to here,' she declared with her hand levelling out five inches above the top of her head.

'What the fuck,' Belinda butted in.

'Where are you going?' Brenda begged.

'I'm done,' she said and left; simple as that.

'For god's sake, Greta,' Brenda pleaded, watching helplessly as she disappeared into the rainy night. Then turning to Belinda, 'for god's sake, Lind,' she cried and slumped into her office chair. Belinda, shaking the rain out of her hair, solemnly made her way around the desk and made a beeline for the kettle. She already felt guilty enough – now this?

She knew it wasn't her fault, but what crazy old fruit bat walked out on someone like that. As if Brenda didn't have enough weight on her shoulders.

'You just tell me what to do and I'll do it,' she told Brenda, who was now miles away in her own world. 'I wasn't sleeping tonight anyway.'

13

Greta really was gone! She couldn't believe it. Were the past three years nothing at all to her? Was her calm, wise, all-knowing demeanour just a face for the past three years? The note on the kitchen worktop, which she read in the bruised after-rain gloom of dawn, said that she'd had enough of pretending that everything was perfect when it wasn't what she wanted.

No word on the fate of the hotel, though. No word on how costly this relationship could be, for as worthless as Greta made it seem. It made her question the truth behind anything. But God she was so tired, physically and emotionally, especially having read Steven's second story during her breaks away from the reception desk.

And she had said nothing, not to Belinda. That had caused her to bottle in more than she was really capable of. Now she felt like there was a brick sitting inside her skull, while her heart was already as heavy as a stone.

"Beautifully written, Steven," she had messaged back. "But why did you really write these?"

She didn't even know why she did that. Acceptance maybe, finally...

"To make sense of what I was thinking, I guess," he replied.

"I feel so confused is all," she sent back.

"I only care about what you want, mom," he replied again, and then, "I'll stop. I don't want to mess with your head."

"Thank you, Steven," she concluded. "I love you no less. Just become rich and famous for the right reasons!"

Little did she know just how much that confused him after all that had happened under her nose over the past couple days. And while he lay in his bed now, attempting to sleep under the same roof, and as Brenda retired to an empty bed of her own, Belinda restlessly turned on the laptop beside her on the bed and signed into her sister's Facebook once again.

'Was just wondering if you're awake,' she began. 'Remember to delete everything as usual, honey XX'

'I was just drifting off, mom, it's getting early XXX'

'I know. I'm just so fucking worked up after last night XXXX'

'I'm just down the hall if you want to come in XXXXX'

'Now is not a good time, sweetie. I'll explain in the afternoon, but I just wanted you to know that what you did for me – OH MY GOD,' she replied and added a wink. 'I wish I could have felt you inside me, in other ways...'

'Holy shit that would have been incredible. Still could be,' he added with a wink and more X's.

'We shouldn't!'

'No, I know.'

'But I doubt I'd have stopped you.'

'I wish I'd known that,' he replied and added a heart emoticon.

'I'll let you know. Sweet dreams, baby...'

14

Brenda told Steven everything that next day, about Greta getting up and leaving without warning, all because of a little bickering between her and Belinda. As shocked as Steven was, though it was a little forced considering the awkwardness between them – now alone and communicating face to face again – it was a relief to both of them, though for different reasons.

After a surprisingly restful sleep, having accepted her son's misgivings and moved on, Brenda felt that a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. It had been so long since she could talk to her young man without the interruptions – Greta's corrections and sometimes overbearing neck breathing.

Steven on the other hand was just relieved that Greta was gone. Although he respected that his mother was feeling the heartache that such sudden distancing caused, Greta's vanishing act seemed to have closed the distance immediately between he and his mother.

For one whole week after, as he took Greta's place at the hotel and stood by his mother's side to support her, his sexual urges actually retreated, replaced by unconditional love and responsibility, because nothing had really changed about the way he treated her, or wanted to.

And it was during one of those long quiet nights that they had their own big talk, about the things he wrote and the feelings that he felt. Brenda would have been lost without him. She knew that all too clearly. Still no notice from Greta's lawyer and she was becoming more on edge about that than anything else, but she appreciated that he was helping her to bear the burden, and for that she couldn't be grateful or proud enough.

It was only in her nature as a human being to accept what had happened with a shrug and to just find some semblance of order in the chaos, and some love in the emptiness.

And she had asked her son if he was finally going to let her read the stories that were now making him enough money to earn something close to an actual living. It was about time that he let her, so he did. It took some getting used to, knowing that her son might have been a great sci-fi fantasy writer, but that he was a superbly gifted writer of erotica.

Brenda actually started to buy his books online, to show her full support. And those kinky little novellas were stacking up on the bedside table's lower tier. And so often, combined with the use of her fingers, they were almost better than sex.

But a few blocks down, her twin sister was growing anxious, wondering if she should take the next leap. Belinda had been struck so forcefully by her rocketing desire to take Brenda's son into her bed that she had dropped the facade, meant to scare Steven out of his beautiful incestuous fantasy world, and had thought long and hard about just coming out with the truth.

And the pressure to do so was building and building. Should I tell him, or should I trick him again, she thought. But now her kids were back home and when they weren't rutting like rabbits, they were causing mischief all around the house. They were back to stay.

She now felt dirty for having pretended to be his mother in seducing him, but in a way she didn't expect. What was happening would always be dirty, but if she was going to come clean and seduce him in a more honourable fashion, she would have to undo a lot of lies, and then she would risk being caught by Brenda.

But goddammit it seemed so worth it!

15

She took a bold chance that day. The weather had cooled. The season of the witch was approaching swiftly now it seemed and it seemed a nice day for a walk and to see what was happening at the Hiller household, whilst returning the dress that she had seduced Brenda's son with that hot and rainy night.

She took her own spare key so that she could let herself in and did so quietly, leaving her sandals in the porch as had always been the rules. She was like a ninja, traipsing around the ground floor soundlessly in her bare feet to find that nobody was home. But they were and she heard them upstairs.

She relented from calling out. Part of her just wanted to listen, to make sure that she wasn't interrupting something important, because not only God knew that they had a lot to get through lately. And Belinda still felt guilty about Greta upping and walking out with no sense of accountability for her part in Brenda's life and work.

But as she listened intently, even baiting her breath to hear well enough, her heart stammered and her jaw dropped. The bag with the vest and the skirt lay forgotten at the bottom of the stairs as she tiptoed up to the first floor and snuck to Brenda's room.

16

'Oh my God,' she kept saying, over and over, and judging by the other sounds emanating from beyond the bedroom door, those were the words of a woman introduced to a kind of pleasure she hadn't experienced before.

Belinda couldn't believe her eyes when she crept to the door, which stood ajar, and peered in to find Brenda naked from the waist down, Steven's hands roaming up beneath her loose blouse while his tongue lovingly and thirstily lapped at his own mother's dripping wet pussy.

Brenda's thighs were wide open and inviting, her neck craned forward so that she could stare in disbelief at the sight and experience playing out before her own eyes. And just like Steven had done to Belinda that night, he was reducing Brenda to a hot mess with his wet kisses and sweet, seductive nuzzling.

She could hear Brenda's wetness responding to his touch clearly, even over Brenda's soft moans and Steven's amorous tongue lashing. Instantly she became wet and weak herself; excited, aroused and scared of being caught. What if even the slightest breath should escape her lips in response to the breathtaking sight playing out before her?

Belinda put a defensive hand over her mouth and continued to watch, turned on like never before. She had seen her own son and daughter having sex before. That was cute, adorable even. But Brenda was an experienced woman, captivated by the talented tongue of a young and virile man as though it was something completely new.

And it was. Greta must have gone down on her, surely, and expected her to reciprocate. But Belinda never understood the sex appeal there. Here was a young man out to prove his love, his skill, to prove his very worth and to show his mother how she really made him feel.

He too was naked from the waist down, dressed only in a clean white tank top as his cute bubble butt slowly humped the duvet.

'Oh Jesus, that's enough for now,' Brenda cried and began to laugh, holding Steven's face up to taste herself on his lips. 'Where did you learn to do that?'

'Please, mom, I'm twenty three,' he begged.

'Oh shut up, even Greta couldn't make me feel like that. That fucking tongue,' she professed. Then they embraced, laying down against the pillows to kiss and to revel in each other. 'This is so wrong, so nasty,' she panted breathlessly.

'Nasty's good,' he teased and dove into her neck to attack her again with his insatiable mouth. Belinda watched her sister come and come again, the sensations radiating in her own lower abdomen now becoming just short of unbearable.

She was having a hard time slowing her own deepening breaths, standing steady. Carefully she leaned against the doorframe and slid a hand into her panties and bit her lip as the touch of her fingertips caused a trembling orgasm.

'But it's still so wrong,' Brenda insisted reluctantly. 'I can't believe I'm letting you do this.'

Steven reached a hand down and petted her gently, looking into her eyes as he planted more kisses on her lips and said, 'you want to, don't you?'

'At this point I need to,' she confessed. 'Your dirty little mind has ruined me.'

'Then do you know what would be even nastier?' he asked, sliding his fingers inside her and feeling her slippery silken warmth. She only nodded upward, as though to ask what he had in mind.

'If you took control...'

Brenda suddenly laughed wickedly, pulling Steven's head to her chest and clamping her thighs around his working hand, gushing shyness and approval both.

'What do you want me to do exactly?'

'Just enjoy yourself, mom,' he urged, removing his hand and lubricating his stiff cock with that same wet hand. If it was possible, Belinda's jaw dropped further open as her own wet hand encircled her burning, throbbing clit. The fact that she hadn't been caught yet, or more importantly the question how, was far from her mind.

'God it's been so long since I felt the real thing,' Brenda enthused nervously, then sitting up, 'okay, lie down and let's see if I can remember how this goes.'

Steven laughed an adorable laugh, like a boy tickled. Then she straddled his hips. 'Yeah I don't think you forget this kind of thing. If you had I'm pretty sure my stories reminded you,' he insisted.

'Oh,' Brenda gushed, 'I don't know how you describe those things so well.' And seductively she began to unbutton her blouse from top to bottom before it was shed and dropped to the floor. Her body was so beautifully trim, soft to both eyes and touch.

'Do you really want to know how?' She nodded without pause. 'Thinking about you,' he said.

Wickedly, she begged the question with her eyes, hovering over Steven's proud eight inch cock and torturing him, leaving him lying there in denial. Then she licked her lips, hooked her thumbs beneath her bra straps at her shoulders, and raised her eyebrows suggestively.

'Well then,' she whispered and slowly leaned back on her haunches. And just like that, she slid down over his glans, then so easily down his long length and sucked him in right down to the hilt and the sounds coming out of the both of them were too much for Belinda, who let out a guttural moan of orgasmic bliss.

17

Brenda's eyes darted to the partially open door. There stood the shadow of her sister beyond the threshold, frozen with fear and in the grip of a devastating orgasm that just wouldn't end. Her knees jerked, her hand working furiously behind the crotch of her panties, and only her death grip on the wooden frame kept her from falling to the landing floor.

Brenda's face was still, miraculously calm. Inside her, Steven's hard cock grew further, swelling with both panic and arousal, until she could feel herself impaled on the most rock solid cock in living memory.

'Come in,' she said. Belinda was rooted to the spot.

'Don't stop,' Belinda breathed. So they didn't.

Brenda looked down into her son's eyes with a steely reserve. 'Can Aunt Belinda watch?' she asked and began to laugh a helpless, scared laugh.

'She can join in if she wants to,' Steven dared to offer.

'Jesus fucking Christ,' Brenda cried hysterically, fits of laughter rocking her back and forth on his erection and pulsating giddily. She was leaning on his shoulders with trembling hands, aware of all that her twin sister could see – pretty much everything. What would it hurt now that they were caught a little more than red handed?

'Are you touching yourself, Lind?' she then asked. Belinda nodded then mouthed a helpless 'yes.' It was then that Brenda began her slow, loving waltz up and down the soaked length of her son's cock, maintaining eye contact with the bewildered boy as he succumbed to the magic of her swaying hips and the beautiful sensations of their coupled sexes. 'Save some for your nephew,' she panted. 'Because I'm not going to last long...'

And Brenda did remember how it went. There was suddenly nothing else in the world that mattered other than fucking her own son while simultaneously fucking with her sister's mind – because payback was a bitch, but a thankful bitch nonetheless – and nothing was going to stop her since she had surrendered to the true nature of their family.

Steven's hands guided her hips as her butt, a perfect peach, pistoned down to slide him in deep and to nourish her lust, her love – her darkest desire. And as they met to kiss, wet, sticky flesh pressed together in the heat of their twisted lovemaking, the door opened fully and Belinda padded across the floor fully naked to join them on the bed.

'Roll your mommy over and show her how much you love her,' she directed and then he was between her thighs and melting back into her with his impressive erection. She licked her lips, breathless at the sight of her nephew feeding himself into his mother's pussy as she writhed uncontrollably, her knees up beside her swaying breasts.

'I can't believe we're doing this,' Brenda choked, unable to tear her eyes from her sister's. Affectionately, lying down on her belly beside her, Belinda caressed her cheeks and offered her an encouraging smile. And then their lips met in an erotic, sensuous kiss that threatened to take Steven over the edge. 'Oh fuck,' Brenda cried, coming harder than she ever had in her life. 'Oh fuck oh fuck I love you, both of you.'

'Steven,' Belinda said, rolling onto her back, cheek to cheek with his mother. He was moaning hard, straining in his battle of self-restraint. 'You're in love aren't you?'