Sacred Glen

* * * * *

Holding each other in post-coital bliss Aaron told Abbie he'd been with Becka and Charity. She told him about Christian and David, and Deborah, then said, "There is something else. Deborah's a virgin. She wants you to be the first. She's also sure after you two make love she'll be pregnant, carrying your child."

While Abbie's approval was evident in her voice Aaron said, "What do you think?"

"It would be beautiful. Ben doesn't have to get back to Austin right away; his graduate school doesn't start for a couple weeks. Why don't you and Deborah drive the U-Haul there, just the two of you."

They made love again, then went on-line to reserve the U-Haul and saw an e-mail from REI. It wanted to license the hammock. The initial monetary offer was staggering.

* * * * *

The following weekend Aaron and Deborah left for Austin, the twins for Santa Fe, and Abbie and Ben, showered and nicely dressed, sipped an excellent Chardonnay, cooked and ate dinner, then adjourned to the couch where to candle light and soft music, perfume and cologne mixing together, they kissed, slipped off each other's clothes, explored shoulders, back, legs, arms. He grazed her warm wet sex; she stroked his erection, captured his pre-cum on a finger, licked it off, then traced his lips - they were a little salty - with her tongue.

They moved to the bedroom, kissed lips and necks and shoulder and ears and Abbie, recalling her play with Deborah in the mountains, rolled onto her back and said, "Ben, suck my nipples, be a little rough, please."

Ben licked his mother's stiff nipples, sucked them into his mouth, held them with his teeth, increased the pressure. His mother, groaning in illicit pleasure, arched her back, pushed her breasts into his mouth, and said, "Harder."

Ben, caught up in his mother's sexual energy, his reluctance giving way before the ardor of her feral moans, bit her nipples until, overcome with need, he pressed her knees to her chest, scrambled between them, kissed, licked, lapped her pussy, shoved his tongue inside.

Abbie said, "Oh god yes," raised her hips; Ben, tilting his head forward, slapped her clit with the power persistence precision of a race car piston.

Abbie, chanting an uncontrollable, "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, on, oh, oh, oh," let the feeling wash over her.

Ben twisted two fingers into her sex, caught her clit with his lips, pummeled it.

Abbie was a circuit breaker pushed beyond its capacity - it hurt so good - and voice rising an octave, toes and fingers tingling, she jabbered jibbered moaned sang, "Ohmigod son, I'mmmmmm coommiiiiiinnnnnnggggggggggggg."

Liquid pouring onto his nose and cheeks, his tongue continued its assault until Abbie grabbed his head, yanked him up, said, "Fuck me. Ben, fuck your mother."

Scrambling forward, his cock slid on her skin, reached her pussy, and Ben, suppressing the urge to jam himself inside her, moved in, an inch, maybe less, lubricated himself, moved out, back and forth, deeper and deeper, until the final push. His balls dragging up her ass, his body pressed to hers, Ben ground her clit between their pubic bones, then lifted himself on his arms. Her hard nipples wet with perspiration, she looked at him with the love of a mother, the desire of a woman, pushed into him, said, "Fuck me son." He lowered himself, picked up the pace, moved faster, harder. She clamped her pussy muscles, dug her nails into his back, wrapped her legs around his waist, planted her heels on his ass, pulled him to her, begged for her son's seed in words wanton and wicked. He groaned and grunted, pounded and thrust, erupted, filled her with incestuous cum. Her insides went kablooey as an orgasm, a relentless implacable tide, rolled through her.

Drifting into sleep she felt a warmth in her belly, a sensation she'd never felt before.

* * * * *

The long drive to Austin was uneventful and unloading the truck went quickly; neighbors volunteering to help this breathtaking young woman and her handsome father. After ordering enough pizza for everyone, Aaron and Deborah worked into the night, hung clothes, put up dishes, set up the electronics to play the soft seductive music she'd selected, made the bed.

There Aaron was patient, his experienced fingers and tongue visited the obvious, ears and lips and neck and breasts, inner thighs, and places too often ignored, massaging her feet, her scalp, her lower back, and ran his finger tips between her belly button and mons until, blood flooding the area, her clit throbbed.

He used his mouth on her, she came, did it again.

"I'm ready Daddy."

She was wet and swollen, but he coated himself and the face of her sex with the lubricant Abbie recommended and said, "Why don't you get on top."

"No Daddy, I want you on top, I know you'll do it right."

He entered her in the missionary position, going slow, a bit in, a bit back. Her hymen folded under the knowing gentle pressure, the walls of her sex yielded, stretched, accommodated. Deborah, focused on the flood of sensations - the penis in her vagina, her father's strong body, his fingers in her hair, hands on her hips, chest on her breasts, the hair of his legs scratching her soft skin - felt no fear or anxiety.

Rolling and grinding, minimal thrusting, they made love. She came, came again, and when she felt another building within her said, "Do it Daddy, come inside me, let's make a baby," and with a grunt he emptied himself. Millions of sperm swam the last inch of her vaginal canal, traversed her cervix and uterus, entered her fallopian tubes, her egg was waiting.

A thousand miles away the earth warmed and the flowers opened, their rich perfume saturated the air. The birds of the glen woke and sang and the insects joined them and if you were there you'd swear the voices of the birds and insects blended together in harmony.

The Spirit celebrated; the Progenitor was with child; the People were re-born.

* * * * *

She made the rounds the second week of school. Despite the enormous number of students in several of her classes, her professors recognized her, for not only was she was stunning, there was a sweetness, a gentleness to her. Now, in person, they were struck by something else, her keen intelligence.

"The reason I asked to see you is I'm pregnant, I'm due during finals."

"I'm sure we can make an accommodation for you to take the test late if it interferes with your delivery."

"Thank you Professor, I appreciate that, but I'd like to accelerate my semester, do all the reading, the papers, attend all classes, and turn in the final paper or take the exam early."

A bit stunned - every other student on campus would have picked procrastination - each professor agreed. His or her wonder grow when they learned she was not taking the fifteen hours suggested by the University or the twelve most students did, but eighteen. It increased as the semester went along, and was most intense in the Archeology Department. There'd never been a freshman, heck there'd never been an undergraduate with her affinity for the cultures and languages of MesoAmerica. It was as if, one Professor joked, she was one of them.

So Deborah was home during finals, curled in father's arms, his hand on her belly, swollen with child. The twins, sitting with their brothers, were six weeks behind her. The true miracle, however, was Abbie, six months pregnant with a child Deborah insisted, although all were her lover, was Ben's. Abbie had felt it growing inside her, dismissed it, took a home test, went to see her doctor. She'd confirmed it, reviewed the old charts and x-rays, declared it impossible, confirmed it again, ran the few tests possible on a pregnant woman, found no explanation.

Later that day they'd leave for Honduras. Her doctor, when told she'd give birth there with the aid of a mid-wife, had protested, but Deborah had the support of her family. For her peace of mind she was not told Deborah, the family, and the mid-wife would first hike into the jungle to a glen they'd discovered the prior summer.

Before the hike the family met with their Honduran lawyer, who was purchasing the tens of thousands of acres of undeveloped barely-populated acres surrounding the glen. The land was inexpensive and money no object; Abbie and Aaron had licensed the hammock to the United States Department of Defense and National Park and Forestry Services. Light, portable, comfortable, it became standard issue for field personnel.

The biggest problem, the lawyer explained, had been determining who owned the land, requiring many hours in the property records and leading him to find an unusual restriction. A minute patch of land, several hours hike from the river, was never to be exploited or opened to the public. The lawyer showed it to them on the map, but the family knew where it was.

* * * * *

The family built a compound on the river. Designed by Aaron, it blended effortlessly into the landscape, won several awards, and led to a long line of commissions Ben worked on in his office at the compound. The twins' software firm was located next door.

That first summer Deborah, child strapped to her back, located three additional village sites, then determined the temple's location. Pristine, it was the most important MesoAmerican discovery in a century. While Deborah would finish her degree at Austin, from that moment she was more teacher than student, leading the university's teams studying the site. That she did so without resentment from older colleagues was in part tribute to her personality, sweet, kind, and solicitous, generous to a fault, in part the recognition that despite her youth she possessed an preternatural felicity for the site and its people, mastering their written language with a speed inexplicable, and in part to her work ethic. All marveled that anyone constantly pregnant worked as hard as she.

Abbie and Becka and Charity were equally fecund, as were their children, and their children's children. They spread across the land. The Spirit returned to its slumber knowing The People had returned.