Sauce for the Goose

"Because it's wrong. Because it's...it's incest." He hissed.

"And? So what? Do you think we're going to tell anyone? No one will know. Well, your father will know. And your sister. But they're hardly in a position to complain, are they?"

For a moment, Annie seemed to shift in her seat, as if something was happening under the table. Then he felt something move between his legs. Suddenly his mother's stockinged foot rubbed up against his already hard cock.

"I was telling you the truth when I said I loved you more than anyone else. You are my entire world. You always have been. Now, I want us to be together properly. Your father and sister have taught me an important lesson. You need to seize the day, be with the one you love."

"And you think that's me? Your own son?" He muttered, his voice breaking up, so distracted was he by her delicate footwork.

"I know it's you. I've known for much longer than I would ever dare to admit. I suppose your dad would understand, he must've felt the same way about Kim. Watching her grow, watching her mature, becoming a woman. The same way you have become a man. A very handsome man."

"And what makes you think I'd be interested?" He said, his breath quickening as her foot continued to rhythmically massage his dick.

"You certainly feel interested. I know you're attracted to me, sweetheart. A woman always knows. I've seen the way you look at me for years. My boobs mostly. I don't want to sound too conceited, but I'm hot. I know it. You know it. Men lust after me. Some women lust after me. You lust after me. I have no doubts you'll be interested."

"It just...it just...it just seems wrong."

"Yes, it is wrong, baby. But that's what makes it right. It's nasty. Dirty. Forbidden. A mother and son getting naked. Fucking each other. Jesus! I'm so wet right now, just thinking about it. About us. And if you're worried that I'm some middle aged prude, or out of date, let me reassure you on that score. Your father trained me well. I'm very obliging. Especially for you. You can have whatever you want, whenever you want it."

"Anything?"

"Anything at all. You know I've never been able to say no to you. I'm not going to start now."

At that moment, the waiter returned asking if they were ready to give their order. Neither of them had even looked at the menu, so she asked for a few more minutes. The waiter nodded and almost glided away. Annie's foot silently slipped back to the floor. She reached out and took his hand in hers.

"Look, I really do love you, Greg. And I want us to be together. If you really don't want this, we can forget all about it. But I think you do want it."

"If I did, and I'm only saying if, how do you think this would work?"

"I think you're old enough to know how things will work. You'll stick your dick in me. That's how it'll work."

"No, I mean what will this be? Are you going to be my girlfriend now? Or my little thing on the side. What happens when I meet someone I want to marry. What happens when I want to have kids?"

"Well, we can cross that bridge when we get there. Someone famous once said in the long run we'll all be dead. Let it be whatever it's going to be. If you want me to be your convenient little fuck-toy, your thing on the side, then that's what I'll be. But if you want something else, something more serious, I'll be that instead. It's entirely up to you."

"And what about Dad and Kim?"

"They've made their choice. We can make our own."

The conversation came to a halt, and the evening progressed as if it was entirely normal and routine. They ordered, they ate, they chatted pleasantly enough. Only as dessert ended, did Annie return to the task at hand. She reached into her purse and brought out a keycard. She lay it down on the table in front of Greg.

"I took the liberty of booking us a room upstairs. Room 1986." She said, conspiratorially, as if they were two spies plotting to bring down the state, rather than a mother and son embarking on an incestuous affair. "I'm going to go up there, get freshened up and wait. If you want to, you can come join me. And we'll begin. You don't have to, I'm not pressuring you into anything. If you want to walk away, walk away. The decision is up to you."

She stood up and walked away. But then she came back and kissed him on the top of his head. She leant down and whispered in his ear.

"I love you, sweetheart. Never forget that."

He watched her walk out the room. He was not alone in doing so. His mother was a fox, and she was dressed to impress. Her succulent hips were swaying as she sashayed along, her dress barely long enough to cover her stocking tops.

Greg sat there for a few minutes, studying the keycard intently.

You should leave, he thought to himself. Just get out of here.

But he knew that wasn't going to happen. Slowly, somewhat reluctantly, he got up and headed for the elevator. He reached the right floor and walked down the corridor, conscious of the thick heavy carpet beneath his shoes. Before he knew it, he was stood in front of Room 1986, the keycard pressed tightly in the palm of his hand. His grip was so firm, the plastic edge was painfully digging into his skin.

On the other side of the door, Annie was waiting. She had dispensed with the dress and was now stood in her high-heeled shoes, stockings and lingerie, which consisted of a tiny little g-string that wouldn't have been big enough to cover her bush, if she had one, and a matching half-cup bra. Her breasts looked truly magnificent on display, two succulent orbs of creamy tit-flesh, her nipples erect and almost pulsing with excitement.

She looked into the little peephole and could see her son hovering only a few inches away. Her hand reached out to open the door, but she pulled back suddenly, as if the handle was scalding hot.

He needs to make the decision, she thought to herself.

Time seemed to stand still for both of them. It felt like they were stood there for hours, even if it must only have been half a minute or more. Greg looked down the corridor one way, then the other. Finally, he turned back the way he came and walked towards the elevator, his shoulders drooping and his footsteps heavy.

Annie gasped, and it was only as she did so that she realised she'd been holding her breath. She saw her son disappear from sight, a crushing sense of disappointment washing over her.

Maybe he'll come back? She thought. Maybe he'll change his mind?

She clung to that crumb of comfort for a few minutes, but it was soon abundantly clear that he wasn't going to join her. She had been stood up. He wasn't going to fuck her. At least, he wasn't going to that night. Annie was disheartened, but she wasn't defeated. This was all a bit too much for him, she'd come on too strong. She should've played a longer game. All those thoughts came to mind, and she believed them. But Annie had seen the way he looked at her. She knew the way he had responded when she kissed him. She knew how much he had enjoyed it when she jerked him off with her stockinged foot.

She believed her son would soon be her lover. Not yet. Not tonight. But it was only a matter of time.

Annie retreated back towards the bed. She had paid for the room, she might as well use it. She was still horny, so she decided she might raid the minibar and watch some porn on the hotel's in-house entertainment system. For a second, she speculated on what Ray might say about her not coming home that evening, but she decided he would be too engrossed in other things to care.

She settled down on the bed, her fingers soon wandering beneath the delicate lace of her g-string, her clit throbbing with excitement and anticipation.

Soon. So soon.

8

Whatever it was - guilt, some kind of moral integrity or sheer bloody-minded stubbornness - Greg managed to hold out three whole days. He knew he wanted to fuck her. He had wanted to fuck her ever since he discovered all the fun he could have playing with his not so little pee pee. But she was his mother. And you don't fuck your mother. Except, now he could.

He had mostly stayed away from home, sleeping on couches at friend's houses. She understood, recognised he had things to think about. At least once a day she would send him a text message, telling him she loved him and she hoped he was okay.

On the morning of the third day after their unusual conversation, Annie was showering in her en-suite bathroom. No bath for her today. Ray and Kim had left, he was at work, she was at school. And Greg was still wherever Greg was. Or so she thought. She stood there, hot water powering down on her body, soap suds rolling along the crevices and peaks of her obscene frame.

She was alone,

Then she wasn't.

Suddenly he was there. It seemed to happen in an instant. One moment, the room was empty, apart from her; the next, it was not. She became conscious of his presence, his shadow looming over her. She knew who it was, instinctively.

Of course, she thought to herself, it had to happen here. This was where I first saw him, naked and erect. Masturbating. How could it happen anywhere else?

Annie turned slightly and saw her son standing there, just a few feet away. Once more, he was completely naked, his discarded clothes lay on the floor behind him, and his dick was already erect. It bobbed up and down a little in front of him. She gasped at the sight of him. His presence, his strength, his power. He was so tall, so big, so muscular. So beautiful.

Oh God, he's going to fucking destroy me with that body, she thought. And that cock. It's going to be amazing. This is going to change our lives forever.

She vividly recalled the day he was born. The crowded, noisy delivery room, full of men and women in gowns; and the sterile, incandescent glare of the fluorescent lights above her. She remembered the sounds and the smells. The sweat and the piss and the blood and the shit.

Kim had come out first, and it had been so easy and straightforward. The doctors were surprised how quick the labour had been, especially for a new mother. Kim had almost slipped out with ease, this tiny purple creature, howling and screaming, so deeply affronted at the inconvenience of being born.

The expectation was that her brother would soon follow, but Greg was reluctant to join her. He seemed perfectly happy to stay where he was, thank you very much. The medical staff assured her everything was okay, and that her son was just taking his time. Eventually, he made his appearance. He was a far more placid character than his fiery sister, and Annie remembered the moment when he was placed in her arms. Those tiny fingers. Those big blue eyes.

There was nothing tiny about him now, but the eyes were the same. Well, save for the fact they were now full of lust and forbidden desire.

The two of them stared at one another, big dopey grins appearing on their faces. Annie held out her arms, her hands opened towards his.

"My darling boy," She said, softly. "Come here, and make love to your mother."

Greg leapt forward, almost in a single bound, taking her hands in his, and joining her under the cascading water. He enveloped her body in his arms, lifting her up and spinning her round in a circle. Their open mouths met with perfect coordination, tongues lapping and fighting and duelling. His hands roamed all over her back and buttocks, his fingers exploring the thick, corpulent flesh of her rump.

She brought her hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks, as she kissed his lips and chin and nose and forehead.

"My beautiful little boy, Mommy loves you so much."

"Me too, Mom."

"Now, fuck me. Please."

So he did.

In the end, it all happened so quickly. One moment they were stood there, in each other's arms; the next she was shoved up against the wall, her legs spread wide apart. Greg took hold of his monster cock, lining it up with her vaginal lips. He looked at her, gazing intently into her soul. He raised a quizzical eyebrow.

You want this dick? You want your son's dick inside you? He didn't utter the words out loud, but that was what he was saying.

She nodded her head furiously. There was nothing she wanted more.

With absolute intent, but without saying a word, Greg forcefully moved his hips forward; his prick pushing relentlessly, remorselessly, into his mother's cunt. Annie's mouth dropped wide open, as she emitted a deep, full-throated groan, so overwhelmed was she by her son's power and strength and hardness.

"Oh myyyyyy Gooooooodddddd!!!" She screamed, his cock buried balls-deep.

They kissed some more, hot and dirty, full of spit and tongue. Then he grabbed hold of her tits, burying his face in her cleavage. He wrapped his lips round a nipple and started sucking frantically, more and more of her breast disappearing into his mouth. He wanted to swallow the entire thing whole, but had to content himself with chewing on a rubbery teat.

"I never...breast fed you...as a baby." She said, between panting gasps. "Your father...thought...it would ruin my tits. I wish...I wish I had. I'm so sorry. You can suck on them now."

Greg moved from one breast to the other, biting down on each nipple, licking and sucking with a rabid frenzy. Annie ran her hands through his hair, over his shoulders, down his muscular back. As she did so, his cock continued to move like a piston, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Her body was lifted up and down against the cold wet tiles of the wall.

"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me, my darling boy!" She screamed, as their naked figures slapped together.

They kissed again. Their bodies were like a sculpture in lust, some obscene, pornographic statue. This young man, this perfect physical specimen, and his ridiculously buxom mother. The muscles in his buttocks and legs, flexing with every incestuous thrust. Their bodies pressed tightly together, skin rubbing against skin, flesh against flesh.

They moved with the precision of a finely engineered Swiss watch, every mechanism in its right place, every component minutely designed to work in perfect harmony. No cogs and wheels, but a cock and a cunt. At its core, its union, this pile-driving column of thick, hard meat, pounding away at a wet, velvet vice. Surely, no dick had ever fit any pussy as perfectly as this?

"I love you Mom, I love you so much." He whispered.

"I love you too, baby. I'll never stop loving you. I'm yours now. I belong to you. You can have me whenever you want."

"I'm gonna cum."

"Cum inside me. I want to feel it. I want to feel your cum inside my cunt. Inside your mother's cunt. Mark me. Claim me. Own me."

With one final thrust, he pushed her up on tiptoes, her back pressed tightly against the wall. He roared and bellowed, as his dick erupted deep inside her. She could feel it twitch and pulse, as ribbons of his semen shot out of his cock, and splashed against the walls of her hot, wet snatch. His orgasm triggered her's, her entire body shaking and rocking, as waves of ecstasy rolled through her naked frame.

They stared at each other, his dick still buried between her legs, both of them overwhelmed by the magnitude of what had just happened between them. They were stunned, dumbfounded, shocked. Then Greg, having lost not a fraction of his hardness, began to fuck his mother some more. The deluging water from the shower head disguising their sweat and their tears of utter, blissful joy.

They remained in there for nearly an hour. After cumming inside her for a second time, Greg took it upon himself to clean his mother's body. He took the shower head down and began rinsing her skin, taking special care to hose out all of the spunk in her cunt. Eventually, he dropped the shower head to the floor, so he could finger her pussy. He sucked on her tits some more, as his hand forced its way inside her. Before too long she was screaming his name, as she squirted her sexual fluids all over the pair of them.

Then, like the indulgent yet decadent parent she was, she insisted on giving him a blowjob. She sank to her knees and wrapped her lips round his cock, cupping his balls in her hand, as she licked the ridge of his purple head. Then she pushed forward, swallowing more and more of his hard dick. Greg couldn't quite believe the sight before him; his mother looking up at him, as his member vanished into her open, welcoming mouth. She choked and gagged on his length, her head bobbing back and forth. As she sucked and licked and bit on his prick, her hand rubbed furiously at her clit. She came again and again.

Annie was an accomplished cocksucker, and Greg's dad was well hung; so she was quickly able to accommodate her son's powerful cock. He had never been deep-throated before, no girl or woman he'd slept with had ever been able to manage it, but his mother was made of sterner stuff. Soon her lips were touching his neatly trimmed pubic hair, large tears rolling down her cheeks. She held that position for a few moments, he could feel the muscles of her mouth and throat undulating against his dick. Massaging his length. Then she pulled back, gasping for air, as long strands of spittle and bile stretched between them.

She looked up at him, panting heavily, a vision of unadulterated lust in her eyes. Then she took hold of his hands and brought them to the top of her head, placing them gently on her scalp. At first he was uncertain of what she wanted him to do, but soon enough he worked it out. She wanted him to take control. She wanted him to skull-fuck her. So he did exactly that.

His hands burrowed into her wet, matted hair, forming handles. Reins. She opened wide, her jaw slack as he began to thrust back and forth. Both of them could only emit the most primal of noises; groans and moans, murmurs and yelps. Annie tugged at her nipples, twisting them savagely as her son mercilessly fucked her mouth. Her jaw was numb, her throat burned, but she never dreamed of telling him to stop. She wanted to be used. She wanted her body to become a vessel for his pleasure. Nothing else mattered.

Eventually, he pulled back and she knelt there, mouth open, with her tongue out. He jerked off for a few moments, then he exploded all over her face. Gobs of cum splattering against her nose, her cheeks, her lips. She didn't flinch, she didn't close her eyes. She just stared up at him as he came all over her. That face. That beautiful, oh so familiar face. The same one that he remembered from when she told him bedtime stories as a child. Or the face that had kissed him better when he fell over in the street.

Now his spunk was dripping from it, like fresh frosting on a glazed doughnut.

They were both exhausted by now, but their shared sexual desires were still too strong. Too potent. They turned off the shower and towelled each other down in the most cursory way possible. Then, hand in hand, they entered the bedroom and collapsed on to the mattress in each other's arms. For half an hour or so, they just lay there, rolling around, cuddling and kissing. Occasionally they might whisper something to each other, giggle at a shared joke, then kiss some more. They didn't want to lose eye contact for a moment, the two of them stared at each other, as their hands wandered hither and yon.

His body is so hard, she thought.

Her skin is so soft, he thought.

Then, with a devilish twinkle in her eye, she told him to get up on his hands and knees. He did as he was told, and repositioned himself on the mattress. She slid down on to the floor behind him, and steadied herself. She trailed patterns on the back of his legs with her fingernails. Then she began to gently kiss and lick his thighs. He could feel her hot breath, as her lips moved slowly up and down. Then she grabbed hold of his buttocks and buried her face between his cheeks. He yelped in surprise as her tongue burrowed into his squeaky clean anus. She reached between his legs and grabbed hold of his cock, tugging on it forcefully as she munched away at his butthole.