That Damned Blessing Ch. 02

But...why would anyone look at him and his mom and think they were a couple? She was obviously older than he was! Not that there was anything wrong with an older lady and a younger guy, but come on! Anyone could tell they were different generations. Admittedly he did look older than his age by a few years and his mom's face could pass for someone in their late 20s or early 30s in the right light. But obviously they were not a couple. There was no way anyone who could think he'd be tapping someone that old...no matter how hot she was...no matter how her tits would sound slapping against her body as she got fucked savagely from behind...and definitelty no matter how sexy her O face was when she came at the same moment a cock was putting a huge load of potent cum deep in her fertile, unprotected pussy -

"Ryan!"

Lexy's voice ripped him from his reverie. "Huh?"

"For the fifth time, Heather Morris."

For a long moment, Ryan sat baffled. Heather Morris? Who was that and why Lexy saying it to him? Oh, the game, right. "Heather...who's that?"

"She was on Glee. Brittany, I think?"

"Uh. Never watched that. OK, Morris, you said? So I need an M..."

The sun beat down with especial tropical ferocity that early afternoon, and the Frauen-Trinkclub was huddled on the deck around a pair of tables, beneath a pair of even bigger umbrellas. Jess had to avoid the sun or burn to a crisp, but even the ladies with deep tans were avoiding it this afternoon - they'd laid out earlier and would lie out again after the worst of the sun had passed.

On the other side of the island, their men were no doubt laboring hard in the heat and solar rays; this occasioned some sympathetic talk amongst the wives, but did not dominate conversation. The ladies were concerned with other things, like the latest celebrity news and the best places to swim on the island. A couple of them - like Trish Hendricks - were more taken up with which hotel staff might be willing to entertain a married woman, but then two of the wives were in more-or-less open marriages and Trish was a slut who didn't seem to care whether or not her husband knew what she got up to when he wasn't around. Jess couldn't imagine being that way. Not that she would be averse to a monstrous dicking down right about now. She was as randy as a queen cat in heat. Paul was in for it when he got back from work today!

The conversation moved to other topics - police in their various countries and whether they could be trusted, their favorite meals at their favorite restaurants, shoes, and more. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and it occurred to Jess that she would miss most of these ladies when she left in just over a week. She had plenty of good friends at home (even if effectively being a single parent with Paul away meant that she had much less time to see them) but there was something about sitting on the deck of a slightly decrepit beachfront hotel on a remote tropical island while getting sloshed with women from around the world that made the whole thing memorable. They were a good group of gals and -

"Because Jessica is being such a prissy bitch about it."

That yanked her from her reverie, and she looked at the smiling Trish Hendricks who had just spoken. "What?"

"See? She's not even paying attention to me," Trish smirked. "I was just telling the ladies that you're being overly protective of your son. I could teach him things that would make his socks roll up and down like a cartoon wolf's."

"Like the delights of chlamydia?" suggested Felicia, the British woman, with a perfectly straight face.

"Quiet, bitch," Trish said, though she couldn't help but grin at the joke. "No, I mean how to please a real woman. That little girl he's running around with can't show him anything. A couple sessions with me and he'll be able to score any MILF he wants and leave her begging for more."

Jessica took off her huge sunglasses and stared at Hendricks. "Trish, I want you to listen closely. Are you listening? No."

Erika, the German, said, "She doesn't need your permission, you know. Only his."

"Oooh, true!" Trish nodded vigorously. "As soon as I can get him away from that Spaniard I'm going to be riding his bones like you wouldn't believe."

"How many layers of condoms do you think he would need to be safe with Trish?" mused Kendra, the Canadian woman. "Five? Six?"

"I think he would need a whole-body condom," suggested the Danish woman Vilde.

"Or a hazmat suit," Jess said.

"Screw you bitches," Trish laughed. "I got tested right before I came here and I was clean as a whistle, and I've used condoms every time here. Well, except that one time with that Aussie bulldozer driver...oh, and that time with the bartender of the beach bar. And the maid...but you can't get a disease from 69ing with a girl every morning, can you?"

"I...can't tell if you're joking or telling the truth," Jessica sighed. "Somehow that makes it all worse."

"I'm a woman of mystery," Trish replied, sipping at her third pineapple mimosa of the day.

It was then that Rori, the Czech wife, asked, "Jess, what skin cream have you been using?"

That set off a round of cum facial jokes before Jessica replied, "Nothing really, just moisturizer and sunscreen. Why?"

"Because your face is looking really good," Rori said. "Your neck looks great."

"Thanks," Jess replied, though she wasn't quite sure where that compliment came from - she hadn't studied her reflection in a couple of days since the traumatic experience in the mirror from two days before, but she knew her own neck creases well enough to be dubious of compliments. "I haven't been doing anything different. It must be the light."

"No, she's right," Kendra said, peering closely. "Your skin looks awesome, like you're five years younger."

The other women chimed in then, noting that the creases and bags around her eyes had notably lessened and even her hands looked better. Jessica found the whole thing bewildering but accepted the compliments with grace even though they were nonsense - age was kicking her cellulite-ridden ass and she knew it. The ladies all demanded to know her secret, but they eventually seemed mollified by her insistence that she had only been doing her normal care routine and that it must just be a lucky day. Eventually the conversation did move on, but Jess was left with a happy feeling inside: the average 44-year-old woman didn't have many days where she got bombarded with compliments from other women for 15 minutes.

Half an hour later, Jess was taking the second sip of her bushwhacker cocktail when a black bird with a five-foot wingspan and an enormous orange sac under its beak swooped in and landed on the deck not six feet from Jessica and began pecking at a spray of peanuts that had been dropped by a clumsy waiter some minutes before. Its sudden appearance caused several of the ladies to shriek and jump in their seats - including Rori, who bumped Jessica's shoulder and made Jess spill her ice cream drink all down her front. Waving off Rori's profuse apologies, Jess stood and said, "Don't worry about it! I was scared too."

"I'll buy you another," the Czech hurriedly said.

"Sounds good," Jessica nodded with a smile. "Right now I better go change. Be right back." She hurried back into the hotel, pausing only to linger for a few moments at the spot where she had collided with Ryan the day before. Her boy certainly had become a fine man! If she closed her eyes she could still feel his strong arms around her, holding her to his hard body and the harder thing in his pants.

Wasn't it odd though how they'd seem to come so close to kissing? They'd kissed each other thousands of times over the years - not so much lately, of course, as boys reach a certain age where a smooch on the cheek from mom isn't as welcome as it used to be; still, it was easy to imagine that they'd closed the last inches between them and pressed their lips together, that their lips had parted and their tongues had met, twirling with increasing fervor as their hands ran all over each other right in the hallway where anyone could see -

She shook her head and giggled uncomfortably. She knew she was crazy horny, but she didn't think she was crazy enough to imagine making out in public with her own son! She definitely needed to take the edge off!

Moments later in her room she pulled her clothes off in a frantic rush, dug through her suitcase for her vibrator, and dropped onto the bed with a hungry grin. Just a few hours before in this very spot she had jumped Paul as he awakened and begged him to take her hard, begged him to fuck her like a slut, to fuck her like he'd paid for her; Paul had complied, first in doggy and then in missionary where he'd drilled her through the mattress and out the other side. And somehow it still felt like she hadn't been laid in a year! What was wrong with her lately (or, as Paul would no doubt put it, what was right)? She'd spent the last two days in an erotic haze, unable to think of anything for long except where her next orgasm was coming from - and it always seemed to come from the same place: her recollection of her dreams. How many times had she come from thinking about that in the last two days? A dozen at least. Stupid dream...

She came to the thought of the perfect mystery man sucking on her clit as she throated his big, delicious cock, and she arose from bed with a smile on her face. Tucking her vibe and her clothes away, she went into the bathroom and showered quickly (the cold showers in the hotel were about the only thing that stood a chance of cooling off her libido even temporarily right now).

Afterward she looked in the mirror to reapply her makeup, and she couldn't help but examine her face to maybe see what the ladies were talking about. "I don't see any diff...wait..."

Because she did see a difference. Her face and neck had weathered the aging process better than the rest of her, but there had still been causes for worry: creases at the corners of her eyes, slight bags under the eyes, an incipient wattle developing, all the sorts of things that could take a woman her age from being hot to being aged almost overnight. But now the skin on her neck was actually tighter, softer, younger-looking! Oh, not by much - only she and other women who knew her face well would have noticed it (husbands never noticed these kinds of things, much to the chagrin of wives). But a close examination left no doubt: her neck looked the way it did...what, four or five years ago? Damn, was the tropical sunshine actually doing her skin good somehow?

Her hands, they said her hands looked good. She checked them closely and saw that once more her friends had been right. The skin on her hands had tightened and the wrinkles that had accumulated over the last few years were gone - they could have been the hands of a woman ten years younger than her. Even an age spot that had been coming in on the back of her left hand seemed to be gone entirely! It was the age spot that really got to her, because maybe her hand cream had changed the formula and suddenly started to work better, but she had seen and fretted about that spot just last evening. Nothing short of a laser procedure could delete a liver spot in less than 24 hours! What in the world was going on?

This necessitated a closer inspection of everything, and Jess spent the next 20 minutes in the mirror carefully examining her nude reflection. Except for the spots she'd already seen, everything that had been old and sagging two days ago was still old and sagging. Well, she thought maybe, maybe, the cottage cheese on the backs of her upper thighs had gotten a wee bit less, but she couldn't be sure, and, since that was impossible, she quickly decided that it must have been wishful thinking. There was no such thing as a fountain of youth, and if there was, it certainly couldn't have been found in a run-down old tourist motel on a flyspeck island in the South Pacific!

Apparently her face, neck, and hands were just one of those things, right? The sags and creases and folds would return soon enough, so she should enjoy not having them for a day or two or however long this was to last. She finished putting on her makeup, selected a different dress from her closet, and went back out to join the Frauen-Trinkclub.

The sounds of the evening beach party were fading behind them as Ryan and Lexi walked away hand in hand toward the hotel, trying to look casual. By this point there was little reason for the pretense because everyone who cared knew they were having sex almost constantly, but sneaking away added to the thrill. Forbidden, after all, was sexy. "So," Lexy asked, "my room or yours?"

"Mine tonight," Ryan said. "Your mattress has that one spot where the spring pokes through and I always end up lying on it."

"So my fingernails aren't the only things to blame for the scratches on your back?"

"They're the main cause but not the only one."

She giggled; she had never actually marked him during sex, though she had come close the day before when he made her come harder than she'd thought possible. "Do you think it's sexy when a girl scratches your back during sex?"

"Getting the scratches would be sexy, having the scratches would just hurt. And put blood spots on my shirt."

"Ohhh, poor baby hero. I promise to be a good girl tonight and not claw you."

"So you changed your mind? We're going to have sex?"

"Just because I'm not walking oddly anymore doesn't mean I've healed," she mock-scolded him. "You've battered me to a pulp. Tomorrow you can have me again...just try to be careful."

"No promises. You get me so worked up."

"If you're careful you can have me many times. If you aren't careful and you bruise me up again, then you have to wait until I heal."

"Well, your mouth is still pretty good."

"Just pretty good?"

"I don't want to inflate your ego."

"Hmmph. I'd make a comment about inflating your cock, but it seems like that's your permanent condition. I'd have thought you'd have worn off the skin yesterday."

"I am mighty," Ryan shrugged. "It would take more than all that to slow me down."

They stopped holding hands before entering the hotel lobby to preserve the illusion that they weren't there to fool around, and Ryan went up to her room a couple of minutes before she followed. The hotel staff looked unimpressed at their charade. He waited by his door with a throbbing dick until she knocked. He opened the door to greet her and before he could say a word, she was shoving him further into the room and kicking the door shut after entering. "Whoa, someone is eager!"

"I'm going to get my vagina licked. Of course I'm eager."

He only had time for a short laugh before they were on each other, kissing eagerly as they pulled at their clothes. In a few seconds they had tumbled naked onto the bed, their limbs intertwining and their hearts already beating faster. It was a treat to fool around in a bed - nobody would care if they always did it in their rooms, but their teenage love of the clandestine, and the fact that they spent a lot of time running around the island, meant that such comfort was actually rare - and they made the most of it, spreading out across the bedspread and relishing the fact of making out where the mosquitoes, flies, and various assorted tropical arthropods couldn't get at them and they didn't have to worry about sand getting into any sensitive body parts.

The kissing didn't last long and in the way of teenagers they spared little time for foreplay. Their clothes came off quickly and bodies entangled and in very little time they were working their way into a 69 position. Each devoured what was in front of them with gusto, with Lexy taking him all the way to his balls and him soon focusing on her clit. It felt wonderful, amazing -

And very quickly, Ryan realized something was...off: as good as it felt, he couldn't come from this. The physical sensations were all there and at any other time it would easily have been enough to take him up and over, but not today. It was weird, inexplicable even, but no matter how good it was, something crucial was missing. He got Lexy off easily and left her trembling on the bed, giggling and panting as he laid there still achingly hard and unfulfilled.

"My poor hero, you haven't come yet," she finally murmured, pushing him onto his back and getting between his legs. "Let Lexy take care of that for you..." She put her mouth to work and, free of distractions from him doing the same to her, was able to really focus on the blowjob in a way that sent his pleasure meter spiking. Turns out, if you spend a couple of weeks with a particular cock in your mouth, you learn how to make that cock feel pretty damned good. For almost a full minute he was sure that this added degree of attention and determination would be enough to get the job done.

And then he realized with dismay that it wasn't going to get it done. This had never, ever happened to him before, and he had no idea what to do about it. There was a stab of panic, a vertiginous moment of teenage dread that he might never come again, a dash of cold water down his spine -

And then it came unbidden and unexpected: a vision of his mother in Lexy's place, devouring his cock with reckless abandon. The chill vanished, leaving heat in its place all throughout his body. The mental picture of his lovely mother with her spray of red hair around her face, naked on knees and elbows, her pale and freckled skin almost glowing in the lamplight - and most of all those huge green eyes locked on his, showing her delight at having her son's cock in her mouth. He could see in her gaze the raw need she had for his cum, the overwhelming eagerness to taste his seed, the virtual demand that he give it to her right now and then again and again and again. He closed his eyes tightly to focus his whole being on the amazing picture in his mind, the most erotic thing he had ever imagined in his life, and within a few heartbeats he was groaning, "Oh fuck oh fuck yes gonna come - "

Upon hearing that, his mother snugged her lips to his pelvis and let her tongue dance along the length of his shaft and around the head, and then he was exploding gout after gout of seed into her throat, cock leaping inside her mouth as her eyes shone with delight and a little smile played at the its corners. The orgasm was blindingly intense, so powerful that it left the room spinning even though he was lying flat on his back.

At that moment, in a beach chair as the nightly party swirled around her and she chatted with Paul while sipping a bushwhacker cocktail (a new favorite), Jessica noticed something in her mouth that wasn't the same consistency or flavor of the rest of the ice cream in the drink. It was warmer, more viscous and...saltier? It was a flavor she knew she recognized but she couldn't place at the moment, and it was perhaps the most delicious thing she had ever tasted in her life.

"Wow, that must be a hell of a drink!" Paul laughed.

"Huh?"

"Your eyes suddenly got huge and you made the yummiest yummy sound I've ever heard from you."

"Oh! Well yes, it is good. Really good," Jess nodded, blushing although she wasn't sure why. "I'll have to find out what the bartender put in it."

Back in his hotel bed with Lexy cuddled up next to him and their light coats of sweat drying in the cool sea breeze that wafted in through the open window, Ryan lay with his eyes wide open. It was a good thing that Lexy's were closed, because if they weren't then she would undoubtedly be wondering why he looked aghast.

What the fuck was that about? Why had he imagined that his mom was sucking his cock? And why had it given him the single greatest orgasm of his life? He had never before imagined doing anything sexual with his mom. He knew it was a fairly common fantasy, especially these days with the omnipresence of taboo porn - hell, he knew several of his friends were jerking it to their moms, even though the fact wasn't really discussed openly. But to him, his mom had always just been his mom, nothing more. Even though he knew she was pretty, and had been prettier back when he was entering puberty, he had never been able to imagine doing things with her. Even when he'd heard his dad plowing her like a corn field in their bedroom back home, it had always been mildly uncomfortable rather than erotic.