That Damned Blessing Ch. 03

There was a commotion at the edge of the crowd, someone pushing through, and in a moment Paul appeared. His expression was one of pure shock, and he put his hands to the side of his head and tried to speak; nothing came out.

Ryan looked over at his father, whom he idolized and adored, with no apparent concern. "Oh, hey dad. Mom's mine now. You know that fertility blessing when we saved that kid? Well turns out magic works, who'd have thought it?"

"You," Paul finally managed, though it wasn't clear whether he was addressing his wife, his son, or both. "What the FUCK? What are you fucking doing?!"

"I...mmm, fuck, mom can really suck...I'm almost done, dad," Ryan grunted. "I'm gonna feed her and then we -- God damn! -- we can talk...all...you want...FUCK!" He gripped his mother's head with both hands and held it still as he began to fuck her face with hard, fast strokes, balls bouncing off her chin, his cock gagging her with every thrust. She held still and took it like a good girl, eyes watering and mascara running down her cheeks, and felt nothing but triumph for making her boy make those sounds.

He came without warning her, but then he didn't need to: she knew it just from how he had tensed and groaned. His seed splashed into her mouth, and she instantly knew without a doubt that it was the greatest thing she had ever tasted in her life. More was flowing from his balls and still more, but she didn't swallow a drop; no, she needed him to see it, needed him to see her swallow the whole thing in one go, needed him to see her being a good girl. At last he stopped pumping cum and she leaned back, looked into his eyes, and opened her mouth to show the pearly white pool within --

And she was standing right where she had been before she walked over to her son, with Paul still strolling to the bar to get their drinks. And somehow, impossibly, her open mouth was full of her son's delicious semen; she shut it with a click of teeth and stared around wildly, looking for Ryan --

He was right where he had been, staring down in astonishment at the fact that his underwear and shorts were both up around his waist. In absolute bewilderment he looked at Lexy, who was still at the back of the line at the bar. There was no circle around him, Kim was still dancing with the Japanese guy while trying to actually suck his tongue out of his body. Paul hadn't seen anything because nothing had happened, nothing at all except a shared hallucination --

And the fact that her mouth was still brimming with her son's cum. Her first impulse was to spit it out but she was surrounded by people and hacking up a mouthful of jizz would be noticed. There was only one thing she could do, so she did it: as Ryan finally looked at her, she swallowed every thick, sweet drop his vision-self had put there. He looked astonished and mouthed Did you? to which all she could do was nod. Yes, my dear, I just went through what you did, but I ended up with a very special and completely impossible treat.

She couldn't stay on the beach, she needed to get the hell back to her room, brush her teeth, and use a gallon of Listerine Cool Mint mouthwash. She gave Ryan one more look -- he still seemed befuddled, the poor dear -- and set off after her husband. She caught up with him as he got to the back of the line next to Lexy and said, "Hey babe, cancel my drink. I just came over really tired and I'm going to head up to bed."

"Are you OK?" Paul asked. "Do you want me to come with?"

"No, I'll be fine. Maybe I accidentally exposed myself to five seconds of sunlight today, you know how I get. Stay and have fun."

"You don't mind if I get another drink, do you?"

"Knock yourself out. Just don't get drunk and hit on any married women or I'll catch an earful tomorrow."

He laughed. "I promise I'll behave. Good night, babe."

"Good night, babe. I love you so much it hurts sometimes."

Day Seven

Jessica rose from her bed with a sigh. It was almost noon and here she was, as naked as the day she was born. The room smelled like her arousal, a scent so heavy and thick that even the open window did little to dissipate it; this was hardly surprising, given that she had been masturbating continuously since shortly after breakfast.

She and Kim had spent breakfast together. Kim had come from the bed of Matsuo, the construction engineer she had banged stupid the night before, and both women had been in a good mood. For her part, Jessica had dreamed about Ryan again and woke up again to molar-rattling orgasm, but this time her reaction had been different from all the other mornings; instead of feeling angst and depression about dreaming about her son, she had felt content and happy. She knew it was the magic making her feel that way and she knew she ought to be distressed, but it felt so right. And besides, how long could a healthy woman be angry about waking up to a stunning climax every morning?

And so mother and daughter had chatted amiably and pleasantly (Jess' prediction of the night before was proven correct: getting laid had dramatically improved Kim's mood) and had a pleasant breakfast of eggs and toast with melted cheese. Kim had been very complimentary, telling Jess she was looking good and happy; Kim complimenting anyone was a rarity, so Jess enjoyed it.

And then Ryan appeared arm-in-arm with Lexy and Jess' world narrowed to those two young people. Ryan gave his mother a smoldering look that made the faint hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention and her clit stand up hard in her panties -- but it was over in a second and her son was having breakfast with his girl and Jess was left to talk to her daughter. She tried to focus but her eyes kept getting pulled over to Ryan and Lexy's table, and when Kim left to start her daily tanning regimen, Jess immediately stood and made her way to the teens' table. "Good morning!"

Lexy looked up with a bright smile; Ryan looked up with an eye-fucking gaze and then looked down at his bacon sandwich. "Hi mom."

"Hello Mrs. McCullen!" Lexy said enthusiastically. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm doing well. I had a great night -- good dreams. How about you?"

Ryan looked up again, this time with a smirk that said, You know I had the same dreams that you did. "I had a good night too."

"So did I!" Lexy agreed. "I was looking forward to today. Ryan is taking me sailing to some of the other islands."

"Oh, is that right?" Jess asked.

"Yeah, I got the charts from the hotel and rented a boat and everything," Ryan nodded, studiously focusing on his plate. "We're taking lunch and dinner. I don't expect to be back until after dark."

Jess felt a pang of jealousy that this little Spanish whore was taking her son away from her all day, but her smile didn't waver. "That sounds great! Have fun you two -- and Ryan, bring her back safely."

"I will." Jess had no doubt of that -- Ryan was only marginally worse at sailing than he was at swimming, and he was a great swimmer.

Jess turned from the table and glanced over her shoulder. The Frauen-Trinkclub was just gathering, but she wasn't going to spend the morning with them. No, she was going to go up to her room, get her dildo, and spend as much time as she damned well felt like fucking herself with it and imagining it was her son's big, meaty cock. She was going to imagine being his Seetsahm, getting knocked up by him, being his girl for a century or more, and she was going to come her brains out.

And that was exactly what she did. She had come like a pack of firecrackers lit all at once, a series of explosions that had her squirting and moaning all morning long until she was so dehydrated and stinky that she needed to get cleaned up and go down for lunch. And so she rose, smelling her countless climaxes, and headed for the bathroom.

The shower was cold of course, but she had ceased to notice that minor inconvenience. She stood motionless under the spray for a long time, but when she finally started to wash, she immediately noticed something: her arms were different. The skin was tighter, more youthful, and the loose folds hanging down were gone -- not tighter, not diminished, gone.

Jess vaulted from the shower and stared into the full-length mirror. It was true. Just yesterday her bat wings had been so pronounced that she could have stood on a surfboard, spread her arms, and sailed across the bay. Today she had Michelle Obama arms, athlete arms...thirty year old arms. Thirty hell, her arms hadn't looked this good when she was thirty!

Excitedly she spun in place and looked at her ass. It too was younger, higher, firmer, and there wasn't a cottage cheese dimple to be seen on it or on her thighs. It wasn't the ass she saw on herself in her dreams, but it was a huge step closer to it than it had been just a day before!

Her heart was hammering in the back of her throat as she turned slowly and examined herself from every angle. Everything...everything was better. Everything was younger. Her thighs were thinner, her tummy flatter and harder, her tits higher and bouncier, her nipples pointed up instead of down. I'm changing. I'm becoming Seetsahm!

The thought shook her out of her happy reverie. Shit shit SHIT! This blessing, this goddamned stupid, insane blessing was twisting her inside and out and making her someone else! A week ago she'd looked every day of her forty-four years, and today there wasn't a part of her that looked over thirty. A week ago she'd have turned cartwheels over the development, bragged about it, showed off, flaunted herself to Paul to make him realize what he had waiting for him at home so his eye wouldn't wander between now and the time the job was done. Today she wanted to scream and break the mirror with a bare fist.

It had to stop. It had to be stopped. The shamans had to come up with something fast. They had to, because if they didn't...

Because if they didn't, then a year from now she might already be pregnant with her son's second child.

A few moments later, she had dressed and was heading down to join the Frauen-Trinkclub. With her arriving so late, half of them would assume she had gone off to screw someone other than Paul; it was a mark of her mental state that she was too worried to care a damn what any of them thought.

Only a sliver of sun remained above the horizon as Ryan piloted the boat to the hotel dock. A professional couldn't have put her in sweeter, and vaulted out onto the dock like a true waterman. A moment with the mooring lines and he had made her fast fore and aft, all slicker than water off a duck's tailfeathers.

There was applause from the boat. Lexy was looking up at him with a huge smile, and as she clapped she said, "My hero! You're so sexy when you're competent."

Ryan snorted, then burst into a hearty laugh. "Wow, that was the least complimentary compliment I've ever gotten from anyone except Kim. Thank you."

She giggled charmingly and began to hand up everything they had taken with them: two picnic hampers (now empty), a beach blanket, a bag of sunscreen and other necessaries, life jackets, and a life preserver. When the boat was emptied he helped Lexy up onto the dock and began to gather things. "I'll return the boating gear. Can you bring the hampers back to the kitchen?"

"I may be able to manage an arduous task like carrying two empty wicker baskets a short distance, yes."

"Aw, I knew I could count on you. I need to take a quick shower and change into some clothes that aren't stiff with salt spray. See you on the beach?"

"Of course, my hero. And you behaved yourself like a gentleman today, so I may just have to suck your cock like a common slut before bed."

"Now we're cookin' with gas."

She was in the middle of bending over for the baskets, but she froze and looked up at him. "What? You have gas?"

He laughed. "No, it means everything's going great."

"Ah, of course it does. El inglés es un idioma estúpido..."

"The stupidest, babe." He gathered up the boating gear and hauled it back to the hotel, where one of the insolent desk clerks reluctantly too a key and led him to the boat house, supervised his returning the gear to its proper place, and locked up behind them.

"Hey," he said, "my door still doesn't lock."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir. We'll send someone up to fix it tomorrow."

"Of course you will," Ryan muttered as he turned away. Spotting his father chatting with several of the Frauen-Trinkclub, he made a detour over to say hello.

"Hello!" his father said cheerfully. "How was your day of sailing."

"The sailing was great. The other islands are dull as dishwater." He looked around, then asked, "Is mom here?"

"She had a little too much to drink and had to use the restroom," Paul explained.

"Oh. Well I have to go shower and change, so I'll see you shortly. Don't drink all the pineapple juice before I get back." With that, Ryan trudged back to the hotel and climbed the stairs to his floor, heading down the hallway to his room. He had gotten fifteen feet before the door to his parents' room opened and his mother stepped out; their eyes locked, and the electricity that sparked between them could have powered the hotel's water boilers. "Hey babe."

She was smiling like an idiot as she approached. "Hey back. Did you have a good day?"

"Yeah. I'm horny though, I kept thinking of you." It was not something that he should be saying, but neither of them thought it inappropriate at the moment.

"God, me too," she nodded. "I had to come up to my room and finger-fuck myself just to calm down."

He grinned. "I'd have been jerking it if Lexy hadn't been there. Just out of curiosity, what were you thinking of?"

She shouldn't have answered that, but it never occurred to her not to. "You had me on my bed at home and you were hammering me doggy. I had my ass in the air and you were holding my face into the blanket with your hand on the back of my neck. You kept telling me that you were going to knock me up. That got me off so hard."

He grinned and shook his head. "Yeah, that's exactly what I was thinking of too."

"Of course it was. We're in each other's heads these days."

The fact should have shocked and appalled Ryan, but in the moment all he could do was smile like a wolf at a lamb. "It was hot as fuck, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," she nodded, eyes glittering. "It kept racing around my mind all night until I just had to do something about it. I made myself come twice and I moaned your name both times."

"God damn girl, you're amazing," he whispered, stepping close to her and putting his hands on her hips. She pressed herself into him without hesitation and grinned up at him. "I feel like I should do something about that."

The eagerness on her face was undeniable. "What's stopping you?"

At last a small whisper of wisdom penetrated into his mind, a little voice saying, Don't do it. But that voice was an idiot, and when he leaned in she tilted her head back and took his kiss full on the lips. Their mouths remained closed only an instant before lips parted and their tongues met, swirling, dancing, tasting each other. He sucked her tongue like it was her clit and then she sucked his like it was his cock and then they sucked each other's back and forth with an increasing tempo and increasing need.

His hands were on her ass, one hand grasping each cheek, squeezing, delighted at finding it so firm. She whimpered into his mouth and he pulled her closer so she could feel his erection press against her body, and at the same moment her hands found his ass and pulled him closer still. I bet she's dripping right now. He was certainly painfully hard. And this kiss...this was easily the best kiss of his life, thrilling and erotic and so satisfying!

He didn't even realize he had been guiding her toward the side of the corridor until her back hit the wall. One of his legs was between hers, and she lost no time in humping it like a dog, grinding her hot slit against it almost frantically as she suckled his tongue. A moment later his hands were on her breasts, squeezing them through her clothes, her nipples so hard he could feel them through bra and dress; she arched her back and pressed them into his hands, moaning softly as she did so. And less than a minute after that her right hand had slipped down to his crotch and was squeezing and stroking his erection through his shorts. It felt good, but Ryan wanted her to touch it for real, with nothing between them. He wanted her to stroke it, then suck it, then take it inside her like she was supposed to --

It was like crashing into a brick wall -- his thoughts and emotions stopped cold at a single thought, even though his hands kept playing with her tits for a few more seconds. Then, with a grunt, he tried to step back, but she was all over him, kissing, stroking, until he finally put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her away. "Mom...this isn't a...a dream or a hallucination or whatever you call it. Is it?"

She looked back at him in confusion for a long moment before the implication hit her. "No. No it's not. It's real. We just..."

"Did that," he finished for her.

"Shit," she moaned, briefly covering her face with her hands before looking back at him. "Damn it. God damn it."

He knew he ought to feel as bad about it as she did, or as bad as she was pretending to -- he thought there was a hint of performance in what she was saying -- but he couldn't muster the dismay. "I think we both knew this was coming sooner or later."

She opened her mouth to deny it, but then nodded guiltily. "Yeah. I think it was inevitable. I guess we have to hope we don't do it again...or do more."

"I didn't want to stop. But I had to."

"Yeah, you did. You did the right thing." Pause, then, "And now I'm horny again."

"Yeah. I have to make this thing go down before I head outside or I'll scare all the ladies."

"That you would," she chuckled without much humor. "I'll see you on the beach."

Ryan headed toward his room. He hadn't gotten twenty feet before his mother called his name. He turned to face her and saw she was blushing. "I just wanted you to know that you're an amazing kisser," she said. "I haven't been kissed like that, not ever."

"I feel the same way." He turned and went into his room.

Day Eight

Jess knew something was different the moment she opened her eyes from a dream of Ryan fucking her on the third base line of American Family Field during the seventh inning stretch of a Brewers game as the crowd roared their approval and the players shouted encouragement from the dugouts. She was wildly horny of course, but she had gotten used to that, just like she'd gotten used to wet sheets and constantly lusting after her own flesh and blood. No, this was something else.

She slipped a hand down her body and between her legs and felt the wetness of her squirts...but no, more than that. There was something viscous and sticky, and when she pulled her hand away and held it up, she saw her fingers were covered in white goo, a strand stretching between pointer and index finger.

Semen.

Before she even knew what she was doing, she slid her fingers into her mouth. The taste brought out a moan of delight -- it was the same flavor that she had tasted on the beach two days before when her sweet, horny son had come in his pants and his spend ended up in her mouth. It was beyond delicious -- it was addictive.

But there was something even better. Her hand went between her legs again, but this time her middle two fingers slid frictionlessly up inside her. She moved her fingers, stirring the mess in her pussy, and then pulled them out and brought her hand up to her face. She inhaled deeply, smelling the most perfect scent in the world: her juices and her son's thick cum, mixed to a froth in the way only a massive fucking could achieve. She could smell that all day and never get tired of it.