The Best Defense

This is it, she thought.

Don't get hard! Gareth told himself.

"We'll do it slowly first ok Mom," Gareth advanced.

"Whatever you say Darling," Samantha agreed, now just longing for the contact.

Once more, as Mandy had first instructed, Gareth placed his arm around his mother's chest, reaching up to hold her throat. His forearm pressed her breast, the unmistakable feeling of an erect nipple against his skin. Her perfume was stronger than before and he breathed her in deep as his cheek brushed against her hair, another scent coming to his senses. No, surely not, he mused, dismissing the unique and oh so pleasant smell of a woman's arousal.

God, she could smell herself! Samantha thought. Can he? His arm hugged her chest, his breath against her ear. She felt goosebumps break out down her spine before his body pressed against her back. And there it was again. Once more her son pushed his groin into her rear. More intimate now that they were alone. For a moment the mat wasn't there. They practiced no self-defense tactics. They were a man and woman embracing in the sanctity of their home. Lovers in the act of making love. To hell that they were mother and son. Who needed to know?

It wasn't the way he'd been shown. Instead of joining the hold around her neck with his other hand, Gareth wrapped his left arm around his mother's waist, pulling her body into him. His groin pushed into her bottom, his cock swollen, semi hard, once more slipped between the cheeks of her ass. If she hadn't felt it last time, he reasoned, she'd definitely notice it on this occasion. He waited for her to throw him, bracing for the action which didn't come. The longer he held her the more stimulated he became. The smell of her hair. The lift of her breast with every breath. The swell of her belly and yes, the scent of her pussy. For that is what he was certain he breathed; her wet pussy. Wet for him.

Was she waiting for him to tell her to begin? It had been Mandy that gave the order last time to enact the throw. No. She didn't want the embrace to end. She wanted him to hold her forever. The longer he held her, the more she'd feel it. The more chance of him getting harder. It felt different down there she at least knew that. He was bigger. Thicker. His lips were so close to her ear, his breath on her neck.

And then it twitched.

They said nothing. What was to be said? Gareth allowed his cock to pulse again without pulling away. Blood rushing into his penis as it sat between her buttocks. A declaration as bold as could be made and Samantha accepted his proposal with relish, her bottom pushing back ever so slightly to encourage the growth. His left arm raised up her rib-cage to sit below her breasts, resting upon his forearm whist he caressed her throat with his right hand. Harder, his cock became until it was dramatically poking the space between her thighs, desperate to be freed from his pants.

It was then she threw him. Taken off guard, Gareth went with the hip toss, landing upon his back to be looking up into his mother's eyes, her face flushed. She held her hand out for him to take and he graciously accepted her help before pulling her down onto him. Samantha did little to stop her fall, coming down atop her son, legs astride his hips. Her groin finding his cock, settling upon her son's admiration for her. He was harder. Was he fully erect? She wasn't sure, but as she ground her vulva along the underside of his column and his eyes never left hers, she was finally assured he was hard for her.

Gareth pressed his hands to her thighs, stroking simultaneously up onto her hips and the curve of his mother's buttocks. Samantha sighed in response, her own hands moving to his chest to caress his pecs before inching up to his face as she lowered her own. Her breasts met his chest as her lips neared his awaiting mouth, his cock pushing up hard against her saturated pussy.

She saw her little boy in his eyes. The baby she'd cradled, breastfed. Now the man, hungry for her tongue, for her vagina. To be back inside her. Her lips met his and she pulled back with shock. "What are we doing!?"

"What? Mom? It's ok, I want this," Gareth admitted, no longer concerned he was breaking a taboo. Sure she felt the same.

"We can't," Samantha extracted herself from his pelvis, Gareth noticing a wet patch between her legs as she stood, rising after her.

"We can," he reached out and cupped her cheek, his fingers running into her hair. "If it feels right Mom, it is!" For a moment he envisaged her taking his hand and bending back the wrist, smiling at the thought when it didn't eventuate, his mother seemingly enjoying the intimate contact.

Samantha bent her neck, resting her head against her son's hand, the feeling of his fingers in her hair, arousing.

"No stop," she pulled away. "It's too real. It's too soon," she added, at least giving some hope to her son.

"Ok. Ok," Gareth accepted, removing his hand but taking up her own. "Mom," he waited for her eyes to look back into his. "I know what I'm doing here. Just so you know. I love you."

They were the words Samantha needed to hear, pulling him into her and embracing his body. The hardness of his cock was undeniable, pressing firmly into her belly and she almost relented. The thought of going to her knees and taking him in her mouth almost all pervading. Pulling back she looked once more in his eyes. "I have an idea," she began.

*

It was the final taboo she found so difficult to break. Looking in his eyes she saw her baby. Her innocent. The child she had sworn to protect with her life, for her life. Now here was a man. A beautiful man that wanted her. Whose desire was evident in his words, his actions, in his pants. When they were practicing the self-defense she'd felt wanton, a sense of abandon. That they were different people, almost as if enacting a scene. It had felt so much easier than when confronted with the truth, with him, face to face.

She walked through the house closing the drapes against the night. Locking the doors and windows as Mandy had disciplined them all. In the kitchen she poured another glass of white wine and carried it down the hallway toward her bedroom. Passing the laundry she glanced at the back door of the house, purposefully not checking the lock.

Her bath was still steaming as she dropped her satin robe and stepped into the soothing water, sipping from her glass before laying back and closing her eyes.

Two suburbs away, Gareth searched through a box of his old possessions before he found what he was looking for and held it up before himself, his cock swelling in his jeans.

*

The glass empty, Samantha placed it down beside the bath, her hand dropping below the surface to press to her belly. Slouching down further, her knees slid up the sides of the bath, her thighs parting and she allowed her hand to creep down through her pubic hair to find her labia, her inner lips slippery even under the water.

Gareth turned onto his mother's street and slowed the car to a crawl, turning off the headlights as he pulled up in the street outside the house before looking at the balaclava sitting on the passenger seat.

The neighborhood quiet, street lamps illuminating little, no one saw Gareth exit his vehicle and head toward the rear of the house, placing the balaclava over his head in the process.

Samantha rose from the bath and drying herself, wrapped the towel around her body. Was that the rumble of an engine she heard? She asked herself, before taking her glass back out into her bedroom and heading along the hallway. Her eyes once more looked into the laundry, the back door of the house ajar, her heart rate increasing. "I thought I locked that," she sighed to herself as she closed and latched the door.

The house was dark, Samantha not bothering to turn on the light as she left her empty glass in the kitchen and made her way back toward her bedroom. Passing the living room door she saw the shape of a figure in the darkness. Large. The size of a man. A sharp intake of breath as it moved toward her and she ran. Back along the hallway with him in pursuit. Barely over her shoulder. She reached her bedroom and he grabbed at her, brushing her arm as she entered the well lit room before backing away from the empty doorway.

She could feel his presence. Hear his breathing. All of a sudden her lack of clothing came to mind, how vulnerable she was. The back of her legs met the bed and she had nowhere to go as the figure filled the empty darkness of the hallway, his muscled body obvious beneath the tight t-shirt, an erection standing out in his fitting jeans. His face obscured by a balaclava, her intruder entered the sanctity of her bedroom and she knew with flight taken out of the equation, it was time to fight.

He made his move, reaching for her throat and using all she'd learned, took possession of his hand, twisting his wrist and amid the startled shriek of her attacker, forced him to the floor. What now? She wondered. She made the mistake of letting go. Making a break toward the door but he was quick. Too quick. Like a cheetah he was up and on her, his arms wrapping around her torso, holding her back from freedom. Like a bear he hugged her, strong arms encircling her bust, her waist as he twisted her body to face the full length mirror.

"What do you want?" She screamed as his hands groped her body, the towel wrenched from her and thrown to the floor. His cock, so hard, pressed into her buttocks and to her shame she felt herself become aroused at its presence, a part of her mind wanting to see it, to touch it.

"You know what I want Ms. Bliss," the man whispered in her ear. His voice smooth, his breath warm upon her neck. The goosebumps raised immediately and she wondered if he noticed? She felt his eyes upon her nudity in the mirror, knew he looked at her pussy, the lubrication increasing, the scent of herself evident, her nipples hard as his right hand took hold of her left breast. She exhaled deeply at the touch and watched his other hand creep toward her vagina.

His cock grew. How was it possibly getting harder? She wondered as his fingers combed down through her pubic hair. Ridiculously under the circumstances she wondered if he liked her hirsute? All the girls are shaved down there now she knew. Was she a disappointment? His digits found her labia, slid back and forth along her dripping slit, her inner thighs now a slick of dampness. Whilst pinching a nipple, he tentatively entered her with a finger, easily sliding inside her welcoming vagina, the first man in more than ten years to be within her body. His hand left her breast and made its way to her throat. His first mistake.

Taking hold of his forearm with both hands, Samantha used her knowledge and caught him off balance, turning her body and casting him over her right shoulder to the carpeted floor below, her offender letting out a muffled groan as he adjusted the balaclava over his face.

Now was the time to flee, she reasoned as he attempted to get to his knees, a moments pause her downfall as he reached out and grabbed her ankle. Her balance affected, she found herself falling and was caught in his strong arms before he threw her (gently she noticed) down on the floor of her bedroom.

He was upon her. Between her legs as she feebly tried to resist, slapping at his chest until he pinned her arms above her head with one hand and lowered his mouth to her chest. A nipple. Her engorged nipple taken between his lips, such soft lips she thought, his tongue flicking her as he sucked. A vision of her baby. Feeding from her.

His cock ground into her pussy and defenseless she felt him unbuttoning his jeans and heard hm unzip. This was it, she understood. It would happen here. Her life would forever be changed in this moment, and then she felt the flesh. Skin upon skin at her groin as the firmness of an aroused male pressed her opening. She welcomed it. Her legs wrapping his waist as he entered her. A boring drill devouring her tunnel. Perfectly formed to fill her accommodating vagina. Of course it was. She'd made him. He was designed to be with her. He was always a part of her.

"Take it off," she managed to voice as his balaclava tickled lips kissed her throat, before he looked in her eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked, searching her gaze for consent.

"I've never been more so," she affirmed and watched as her son's face was revealed above her. "I love you," she insisted as their lips finally met, Samantha thrusting her tongue into her son's mouth as his cock fully inserted, their pubic bones grinding together. Gareth releasing her hands that immediately clutched at his t-shirt, pulling it up his body.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Gareth gasped, helping her remove the shirt to abandon over her head.

"It's beautiful," Samantha sighed, her long neglected vagina hugging his cock just as her arms now embraced her son's torso, pulling his body on top of her. Kissing. Licking. Gareth again left her mouth to feed on her breasts, taking a mouthful of nipple and surrounding flesh, gently biting as his ass thrust quicker between his mother's legs.

"Can I taste you?" He lifted his mouth from her boob, a trail of saliva following.

Samantha didn't bother verbalizing a response as she wormed her way out from beneath him, Gareth rolled onto his back by his lascivious mother who spun and mounted his body, her pussy descending upon his face. Darkness for the intruder, his tongue sliding within the walls his cock had visited prior, his fingers before then. His mother's ass cheeks that only six hours before he'd accidentally pressed his cock between, now enclosing his face, nose pushed against her anus.

Samantha looked at it for the first time. His jeans mid thigh, glistening erection standing proud from a bed of trimmed pubic hair. It was beautiful, it was hard and it was all for her. Her hand wrapped its girth, bigger than his father, longer, thicker. This was the cock she dreamed about on those lonely nights. Now a face to go with the anonymous appendage, her son's, as it should always have been.

Her mouth descended upon the head, squeezing her hand simultaneously to draw forth his crystal clear pre-cum, daubing her lips before she licked his offering, swallowing his arousal. When she took him in her mouth, he moaned, not letting up his own stimulation of her sex, his breathing muffled, mouth full of cunt.

Samantha cupped his balls as she began to grind her ass on his face, rubbing her clit upon his lips, his nose. Whatever he offered her down there. So heavy, she thought as she felt each individually, almost examining. One larger than the other. Was that normal? She wondered as his cock met the back of her mouth and she gagged, pulling off in a waterfall of saliva.

"Oh God," she paused as Gareth stopped her movement, his lips glued to her clitoris, sucking her little bump with all his might. "Oh, my baby, you're going to make me have an..." 'Orgasm,' she wanted to say but couldn't voice the word as the feeling crept up her body from pussy to mind. "Yes," she sighed. "Yes Baby, yes. Finger me Gareth," she commanded but raising his hand as he sucked, her pussy leaking all over his face, he could find no room for his fingers. Instead pressing a thumb against her asshole, pushing upon the rubbery sphincter in the hope it appeased her.

"Oh Baby I'm cumming," she finally managed to gush as she fell back upon his penis, two hands wrapping his shaft, holding it against her cheek for comfort as she came upon her son's face. How could this not have happened earlier, she wondered? Under the same roof for years, every night prior seemed a waste to her now. No more. He was the one, would be forever. The cock she cradled against her face, rubbed her cheeks upon akin to a feline seeking affection, was the only dick she'd ever again desire. And she'd show him she meant it.

Gareth was in heaven. A dark, fleshy, wet and fuck smelling heaven. Ass upon his face, pussy in his mouth, ears muffled by her thick thighs. He knew she was cumming, that 'he'd' made his mother cum. The evidence not only in her words but her shuddering body, the fluid that covered his face, that he savored, swallowed like a man dying of thirst. He felt her hands around his dick, the softness of her cheek before once more the warmth of her mouth enveloped the head. He could've cum then. Lifting his hips up into her, gently fucking her mouth as her hands jerked the base, but he wanted to see her. To know it was his mother, to look her in the eyes.

As if reading his thoughts, light filled his vision as she rose form his face, his cock. Kneeling above him he looked up through her bush, the mounds of her breast to her familiar yet upside down face smiling back, contentment, almost pride upon her visage.

"What?" Gareth grinned, hard not to reflect her sheer satisfaction.

"Oh nothing," she dropped a hand to stroke his cheek. "Just, oh I don't know. You made me cum!" She couldn't help giggling.

Gareth, although content to spend the rest of his life looking up through her legs, crept up into a sitting position, sliding his jeans from his ankles to be finally naked with her. Still on her knees he mimicked her position and moved in front of her until they touched, his cock sliding between her thighs, hugged by her slick labia. They embraced, hands upon the other as their faces drew near, Samantha's breasts meeting her son's chest and finally their mouths joined. So soft a kiss. Innocent it could be deemed, but for the fact they were naked, pussy leaking upon an engorged cock; and they mother and son.

Their lips parted; tongues danced as hands once more began to explore. He found the cheeks of her ass, that ass that had begun it all and cupped each as he thigh fucked her, moving a finger to feel the slick head of his cock poke out between her buttocks. Her tongue in his mouth, her hands upon his back, up into his hair he knew it was time to declare himself hers, to fully realize his passion. Wrapping her in his arms, he rose to his feet, Samantha feeling powerless in her son's grip. Could she really have fought him off, she wondered? He lay down with her upon her bed, her legs spreading to allow him entry and finally they were together. No role-play this. No disguises to ease the transition to incest. Just a mother and son in love, acting out the purest definition of such. Making love.

An arm behind her head, he held her as he thrust, gentle but determined penetration, his cock to the hilt. Samantha kept her eyes on his, seeing the love behind them, the desire he had for her. Her vagina squeezed his cock, felt finally complete only when he was fully inside her as if his penis was a part of her body missing for her entire life, only now just discovered. His hand around her breast, mouth upon her own, she came again. A release unlike any known before, she came in waves around his cock, an orchestra in her ears before she realized it was her own cries of pleasure. "Yes, fuck me Baby" she sighed.

"You want me to fuck you?" Gareth gasped.

"Yes, Baby fuck me. Fuck me hard Lover. Fuck me until you cum. Show me your cum"

"Oh God I love you," Gareth declared, hammering his cock into her, her vagina so slick with her lube and his own pre-cum he found it hard to gain friction. He wanted to go down on her once more, to lick up the excess and try again but the desire to appease her wishes overrode his own needs. He had to prove his love. He had to provide the evidence of his lust the only way he knew how. To cum in her. To cum on her.

Her cunt squeezed around him, his pelvic bone slamming her groin. The mattress shifted upon the bed with every thrust, sweat forming on their chests, mingling. On the edge, Gareth pushed up on an elbow, Samantha understanding the action, her eyes widening in anticipation.