That Damned Blessing Ch. 02

"Hmmm, let me think," he mused. A moment later she gave a stifled shriek of delight as he rolled her over, grabbed her wrists tight in one of his big hands, and kissed her hard. A moment later he was back inside her, hips rising and falling like pistons as she drew her knees up and spread her legs wide.

And right from the start, there was something wrong. She didn't know what it was, because physically everything was as good as it always was with the man she adored. He was a past master at wringing orgasms out of her and he was doing his best to make that happen damned soon. And as horny as she was, it ought to have been easy for her to climb that mountain and sail right over the summit. Lord knew her body needed it! But something was holding her back.

When this happened it was almost always something physical - a weird lump in the bed, hips that needed to be shifted, an angle that needed adjustment. But it was none of those things. Nor was it a stomach ache, a headache, an incipient muscle cramp, or any of the other thousand and one ways a good fuck could be ruined by something trivial. Nor was it her mood or her desire level, because she felt as if she didn't get off soon she'd lose her shit. Eyes closed tightly, barely feeling her beloved husband giving her the pounding she had demanded, she lost herself in the emerging whirl of confused and baffled thoughts that swam up as her brain, almost in a panic, threw up every damned thing it could come up with -

And then the image came. It hit her so hard that had she not already been flat on her back, it would have knocked her there. A vision of the man above her and inside her, perfectly clear and as vivid as though it were actually happening. Only in this vision the man was not the one she had dedicated her life to, the one she had married over two decades before, the one she had loved for so long that anything else seemed impossible.

No. The vision was of the man she had made, her son, her own flesh and blood, and in the vision it was him giving her what she so desperately needed instead of Paul. And when that vision hit and she realized what she was imagining, she suddenly hurtled from confusion and dismay straight to the edge of orgasm. Her shocked cry of delight was drowned in Paul's mouth, but he could not miss the way her hands clasped at his shoulders to pull him in tight or the way her ankles crossed behind the small of his back to keep him so close he could do no more than grind into her. Her son, her perfect Ryan, was fucking her deep and hard, and she had never felt anything more right in her life. There was no room in Jess' mind for anything except how her son's cock felt inside of her, how it completed her in a way she had never known she needed, and only a few motions of her man's hips later she was coming harder than she ever had before, even from the dreams. Her whole body went rigid and all thought fled as sensation became all.

All thought, that is, except for one, and that the most erotic thing that had ever entered her brain: Come inside your mother baby, come inside me tonight and today and forever...

Sometime later, she realized she had been lying in bed panting softly, her body still tingly-numb, her cranium still filled with gauze and soft pink aftershocks. Ryan was no longer atop her, no longer inside her, but her pussy gaped from the fucking he had given her and she could feel her son's seed running out of her -

She jerked her eyes open and lurched to a sitting position like someone waking from a nightmare in a movie. It was dark, the breeze through the window was cool, and Ryan was next to her in bed...no, not Ryan. Ryan hadn't fucked her or given her the greatest orgasm she had ever had. It wasn't Ryan's cum filling her. Who was...Paul. That's right, Paul, her husband, the man she loved -

"Well that was spectacular," Paul said with a chuckle. "You must really have needed it, because you've never been that wild. I thought you were gonna rip it off!"

Still bewildered, Jess managed a smartassed, "I do my Kegels religiously."

"I can tell. I think you bruised it."

She heard herself giggle, but her mind was far away, already worrying at the fact that she had come that hard from imagining sex with her son. No, that she had imagined sex with her son at all - and that the scene she imagined was without a doubt the most erotic thing that had ever entered her mind. It was also the sickest, most perverted, and most completely disgusting thing she had ever imagined as well. There was something wrong in the head of any mother who would think such a thing, much less get off on it!

But it was hard to think. The exhaustion from missed sleep suddenly hit her hard, and to her very great surprise she realized that for the first time in three nights and days she wasn't horny. In fact, her afterglow was warm and fuzzy like a fleece blanket on a winter night, and no matter how revolted with herself she tried to be, sleep swallowed her up in just a couple of minutes.

Ryan checked his hair in the mirror one last time. A single lock of hair on the right side of his head was doing something weird, sticking out in a curlicue and making him look like more of a dork than usual. He had wet it and combed it several times, and he could almost hear that lock of hair laughing at him. He considered using some product - he had gel and mousse - but they were both water-based and wouldn't last long in the ocean that he loved to swim in, the rain that fell in brief torrents every day, or even if he worked up a sweat on this tropical island where it was always hot and humid. After a period of fussing he told his reflection, "Well fuck you too," grabbed his Green Bay Packers ball cap, and nestled it onto his head. That would do. He adjusted his chubby so it wasn't so blatant, walked to the door and opened it, only to see Trish Hendricks standing a foot away from him with her hand raised as if she was about to strike him. Not too proud to avoid a blow to the head, he leaped back with a startled, "Whoa!"

She lowered her hand and chuckled. "There you are. I was just about to knock. Good morning."

"You scared the hell out of me," he laughed self-consciously. "Good morning, Mrs. Hendricks."

She put a hand on a cocked hip and smirked. "I think you should call me Trish, don't you?"

He didn't particularly think that, but he nodded. "OK, Trish. How are you?"

"I'm waiting for you to invite me in."

"Oh...uh, OK. Come in. Have a seat, I guess?" The only places to sit were the bed and a single chair (unless she chose the floor, which he didn't expect). In the event she chose the bed, and didn't sit so much as lie on her side propped up on her elbow, which gave him a rather impressive view up her tanned legs to where her lacy red panties peeked from beneath a very short tennis skirt. It was obvious that she wanted him to look, and while he was very sure he shouldn't, he was also a teenage boy who had recently developed something approaching erotomania; he took a good, long look. When he finally looked at her face, he saw that she had seen him staring and didn't seem in the least displeased. "Ummm..."

"I know what you're thinking, Ryan."

Ryan was pretty sure his horniness was written all over his face, and even if it wasn't, his chub had become a boner, so her mind-reading feat required little prescience. "Yeah?"

"And that's why I'm here."

"Uhhhh..."

"Now I know you're with the little Garcia girl, but the fact is that a healthy boy like you is a bundle of raging hormones twenty-four-seven. I'm sure she does what she can, but I doubt she can handle everything you've got to give her. Am I right?"

He shifted awkwardly. As much as he didn't want to admit it, the past couple of days had been too much for Lexi to handle. He nodded with the greatest reluctance.

"I think she could use some help with...that," she said, staring directly at his erection. "So I have a proposition: whenever she's not available and you need some relief, you text me or call me or snap me and I'll come...help. Any time, day or night. If I'm awake, I'll get you off in ways that little girl never imagined. OK?"

"Uhhhh..."

She giggled. "What a sweetie you are. Give me your phone."

He knew this was a terrible idea on any number of levels. First and foremost, it was MRS. Hendricks, and her husband was not only on the island, he was a coworker of his dad's. Second, he knew his mom didn't want him around Trish at all, ever, and if she found out...wow. Third, if Lexi found out, that would be just as bad; it wasn't like they were dating and they only had a few days left on the island, but he liked her and wanted to keep her as a friend and getting caught in a married, boozy floozy would probably ruin the chances of that.

On the other hand, he had heard Trish brag about her exploits many times and it wasn't like she hid them, so it was possible that her husband either didn't care or was one of those cucks that were so prevalent in certain corners of the internet. With all her experience, Trish could show him things that a young man his age would...benefit from. And her appetites seemed to almost match his own.

Don't be an idiot. Kick her out. Don't be an idiot -

Numbly he unlocked his phone and handed it to her.

What did I JUST SAY? his brain demanded angrily.

She quickly put in some info. "There. I put in my contact info under the name Annabelle."

As he accepted his phone back, he asked, "Is that your real name?"

"No, darling," she said as she rose. "'Trish' is generally short for 'Patricia.' Annabelle is just an alias in case someone digs into your phone. Now be a dear and check to see if the coast is clear. I don't think either of us want me to be seen exiting your room."

The coast was perfectly clear. When she was gone, he sat on his bed, alternately kicking himself for being a big fat dumb idiotic idiot who just did something an idiot would do, and wondering how long he'd be able to go without contacting her. After five minutes, he left and made his way down to the lobby, where he approached the desk. "Excuse me, but I'm in 311 and the door's broken. It won't lock."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir," replied the desk clerk, a native man who spoke in a thick Australian accent. "I'll send someone up to fix that today."

Ryan had been raised with conflict-avoidant Midwestern manners, so what he said next surprised even him. "I've reported this before, you know."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir," replied the clerk with a contrite expression.

"I've reported it to you, standing right here in this exact spot."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir," the man repeated, his expression unchanged.

"As recently as two days ago."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir."

"And every time I reported it, you said you'd send someone up to fix it that day."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir."

Ryan sighed. Apparently I'm very sorry to hear that, sir was local dialect for Go fuck yourself, foreign boy. Unable to think of either a way or a reason to continue the conversation, Ryan sighed, turned on his heel, and headed out to the deck. It was breakfast time so it was crowded with the significant others and children of the foreign workers. A quick glance around showed Mrs. Garcia but not Lexy, which wasn't that odd - Lexy did like to sleep in, and she had been tired the night before. Trish Hendricks was sharing a table with a couple of the European women, and she gave him a brief, knowing look before returning to her avocado on toast. He ended up moving to the table where his mother sat with Kim.

"Hi monkey boy," his sister said casually as he sat down across from her. "Did you have nightmares last night or something?"

Jess looked sharply up from her eggs and ham.

He wouldn't call it a nightmare. "No, why?"

"You were screaming at like 3:30 in the morning. Woke me up."

"Really?" Jess asked. "I didn't hear anything."

"Were you awake at 3:30?" Kim asked.

"I...yes, I had trouble sleeping last night."

"Must be something in the air," Ryan shrugged. "Anybody got any plans for the day?" Kim opened her mouth to speak but Ryan cut her off with, "Any plans other than lying on the beach all day and then getting drunk tonight?"

Kim shut her mouth again.

"I was thinking I'd go over to the construction site today and surprise your father at lunch," Jess said. "Maybe I'll have the hotel pack a picnic basket and he and I can have lunch on the beach."

"Just be careful you don't burn," Ryan said.

"I'll pack SPF 20,000,000," Jess laughed. "That's the only thing that can keep a ginger from frying on a South Pacific island. Or maybe I'll take one of the big beach parasols, if I can wrestle it into the car."

"All this...activity on a vacation," Kim frowned theatrically. "Driving places...doing things...it's unnatural."

"OK, hot take," Ryan nodded as the waiter approached. He ordered a full fry up, hold the beans, add hash browns and sausages. When the waiter had gone, he added, "Some of us are making memories, not just lying around like a beached porpoise."

"I consider myself more of a mermaid," Kim mused. "Without that nasty-ass fish tail. Gross."

"So you're a mermaid with the upper body of a human and the lower body of a human?" Jess asked. "Doesn't that just make you human?"

"She considers herself human," Ryan corrected. "That doesn't mean she's right."

"Aim high, sweetie," Jess nodded amiably to her daughter.

"All the contumely I must endure," Kim moaned.

Jess and Ryan exchanged baffled looks, and Ryan asked, "Conwhatnow?"

Kim spelled the word, said, "Look it up, pleb," and headed off toward the beach.

Ryan did just that. "Huh. It means, 'Insolent or insulting language or treatment.'"

"And she used it correctly and everything," Jess nodded. "What are you going to be doing today?"

"Hanging around. Maybe going on a hike to the eastern end of the island if Lexy feels like it."

"Are you going to miss her when we leave?" Jess asked.

"Yeah, kind of."

Jess grinned. "I'll bet you'll miss getting between those long legs a few times a day more than you'll miss her."

In spite of the fact that just yesterday he would have been mortified by such a statement from his mother, as well as the fact that just the night before he had been mortified by the magnificence of his vision of Jessica sucking his cock and begging for his cum, her statement now seemed unobjectionable, even mundane. "Yeah, she's a lot of fun to fuck. She's really eager and she loves my cum."

"Your cum is probably delicious, that's why."

"Lexy certainly thinks so. Half the time she wants it in her mouth so she can swallow it. She even shows me her empty mouth afterward like a good girl."

"That sounds really hot. Maybe you'll find someone back home who can keep those big, heavy balls of yours empty, huh?"

"I'd love that. I'd love a wild girl who was DTF at a moment's notice."

"Mmmm, I bet you would. My fuckable young man needs a steady supply of wet pussy," Jess chuckled. She put a piece of egg onto her fork and nonchalantly put it into her mouth -

And then without warning spat the egg out and lost what little color her pale face had. "Oh my God..."

For a moment Ryan was baffled by her action - and then it struck him what he and his mother had just said to each other. "Oh shit..."

People were looking now, and Rori Kranjc leaned over from the next table and asked, "Are you all right, Jess?"

With a slightly wild expression in her eyes, Jess covered her mouth with her napkin and mumbled that she was fine. Once the Czech woman had turned back away, Jess said with quiet urgency, "Oh my God Ryan, I am so sorry - "

"No, I'm sorry, I should never have said that - "

"I can't believe those words came out of my mouth - "

"Saying those things to my own mother - "

"It's just so inappropriate and I am so sorry I asked you that - "

"I feel like I should wash my own mouth out with soap - "

"It was my fault, I shouldn't have asked - "

"No it was my fault, I should never have said - "

With a third of her meal still on her plate, Jess lurched to her feet and fled back to the hotel. Ryan sat wearing the expression of someone who had just been hit over the head by a huge cartoon mallet, and he was still wearing that expression when the waiter came back with his food a few minutes later and took his mother's dishes away. He began to eat mechanically, just shoveling the food in without even tasting it.

Ok, ok, ok...WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WAS THAT? That conversation was obscene, ridiculous, nothing either he or his mother would have said in a million years. So why had it seemed so normal? It had never occurred to him not to respond in the way he did. It was as though he had been eager to give his mother details of his sex life and she had been just as eager to hear them, both in the crudest way possible. And it had felt ordinary - no, more than that, it had felt right.

He was still bewildered 15 minutes later when Lexy appeared and slid into the same chair his mother had occupied. "Good morning, my hero. How did you sleep?"

"Good. No, bad. Sorry, what?"

She frowned and gave him a concerned look. "Are you alright?"

He scrunched his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No. I haven't been sleeping great but I must be more tired than I thought because I just said the most insane shit to my mother that I have ever said."

Lexy's meticulously on fleek right eyebrow arched. "You have roused my curiosity. What did you say?"

He opened his mouth and then shut it again before finally saying, "I...I mean...it was about us. You and me."

"Well now you have to tell me."

"Just...she asked about us, really innocently, and all of a sudden I was saying really inappropriate stuff and she was saying really inappropriate stuff and it all seemed just normal until all of a sudden we realized what we were saying and she ran away."

Lexy's expression was a mix of scandalized and fascinated. "What did you say? What did she say?"

"Oh no, I'm not going to tell you that. Don't give me that look, I'm not saying a word. It was just...it was graphic, like the raunchiest locker room talk."

"Raunchiest...locker room...talk?"

Right, he kept forgetting that Spanish was her native language rather than the posh English she spoke so flawlessly. "It means the kind of talk that guys have between each other when they're trying to impress each other with details of their sex lives. It was really dirty, like nothing anyone should ever say to their mothers, and she was talking that way right back to me. It was the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me."

Lexy looked like she wanted to say more, but a baleful look from him warned her off. Finally she said, "I stopped off at the desk and rented one of the little sailboats they have. We can take it out onto the bay and have a lunch on the water."

Ryan really wasn't in the mood to do anything but crawl into a deep hole and pull the edges in after himself, but maybe going boating would set his mind right again. He nodded and said, "That sounds great."

The island had a single paved road, which ran from the hotel in the southeast to the only significant town, Ronea, on the west coast. In addition to being the nation's capital, Ronea was where the cargo ships unloaded their goods, where the airport was, and where essentially everything else was too. The road skirted the flanks of the old volcano, and Jess' eyes kept being drawn up onto the mountain's flanks as she drove the jeep the hotel had rented to her. Up on that volcano somewhere there was a little village where Ryan had saved a child's life, and also where they'd undergone that ceremony. She almost giggled at the absurdity of it before remembering that it was probably that ceremony that had put the intrusive and perverted thoughts of her son in his head; then it didn't seem so funny.