The Cabin

"Well, yes, but still...," she trailed off, feeling like she'd run out of arguments already.

Chris stood up, letting the quilt fall away, exposing himself to her. It was the first time seeing him completely nude, and she couldn't not look. His penis was limp, dangling from his groin, its shrunken state hinting at the impressive cock it could become. He walked to her, and she allowed him to hug her tight, twin echoes of her earlier pleasure blossoming on her chest when he pressed into her.

"It felt so good, and you made me so happy," he said. "I can't imagine my first time being with anyone else. Thank you."

His words filled her with pride, and eased her mind. Knowing she hadn't completely screwed him up was a relief. "You made me feel good, too. I guess, maybe, it wasn't such a bad thing."

"Good. I was thinking...the bed wouldn't be so small if you lay on top of me."

A long silence, as Amy fought with her desires and what society would have her say. Finally, "Would we be naked?"

"I hope so."

The blush of new passion she'd felt when Chris first kissed her flooded back. She lifted her head to his, and he met her lips with his. Clutching hard to him, wanting to make sure he didn't stop, she kissed her son with more love than she had with any man.

Inevitably, she felt him respond below. She pulled away and smiled, reaching for the growing cock poking at her. "I'll need a bit of a break, but we can try your theory tonight," she said. "For now, let's have some lunch. I'm starving."

Chris grinned and nodded, going to put clothes on. The stove kept them warm, but the floor was still chilly on bare feet.

They ate, sharing smiles and staring happily at each other. When it became clear they weren't broken for good, Amy relaxed enough to ask, "So? Now that you've had time to take it in, how did it compare to what you thought it would be?"

"Truly? It was way better. You made me feel so relaxed and...welcome? I'm not sure what the word is. Like, you made it so easy, I wasn't nervous or anything. When I've gotten even close with other girls, our inexperience made everything awkward, and we stopped. There was none of that with you."

"I'm glad. The first time can be a bit overwhelming. You did very well...," she finished with a shy smile.

Chris laughed, which made her heart sing, knowing it was going to be fine between them.

"Is there anything you want to know?"

"I think I've got the mechanics of it down," he grinned.

"Ok, smartass, is there anything you'd like to do?"

He paused a bit, and said, "I'd like to be face to face. I want to kiss you. I want to see your face when I go in."

Amy smiled and said, "I'd like that, too."

After eating, they played cards until the light failed. They lit the lantern for what surely would be the last time, and Amy was pleased that there was still plenty of fuel left. She didn't want to think she'd drained it, even though clearly no one lived there anymore.

When the lantern time was done, Amy retired to the porch, to once again listen to the rain in the dark. Having this time alone with her thoughts and away from outside distractions was becoming her favourite thing. She'd have to find a way to mimic it at home.

The oddly abrupt end to the diary still worried her. It had been 50 years since the time of writing, but it felt new to her, like a friend had vanished from her life. Amy sincerely hoped Peggy and Josh had found their way out east, but it seemed a long shot. She pondered if there was a way to track them down. Maybe someone in town would know, but they wouldn't be staying long enough to ask.

As time wore on, Amy started to feel a familiar itch. It was getting close to bedtime, and all that it entailed, and she could feel anticipation build at what they might get up to. He wanted to be face to face, which was an exciting change. That afternoon, she'd just felt him entering her from behind, and experienced the feel of his penis and hands. Adding his face to the mix might be overwhelming...

Finally chilled to the bone, Amy brought her chair back into the warmth to find Chris in bed. He was on his back, under the quilt, and there was a tent pitched in the center of it. He looked over at her and watched in the dim light of the stove as she undressed.

Her breasts hung on her chest, nipples hardened to nubs by the cold. She could feel her pussy prep for him, moistening just at the sight of him under the quilt. "Rather eager, aren't you?" she teased.

"I got cold waiting."

Amy walked the few steps to the bed, putting a swagger in her hips, and pulled the quilt down his body, exposing his nudity an inch at a time. When his impressive cock came into view, she grinned and climbed up on the bed, straddling his legs. Seeing him laying out in front of her, penis jutting to the ceiling, she could feel a trickle of juice seep from her.

She took him in her hand, stroking his cock a few times, feeling how hard he was. Chris groaned at her touch, warning, "I'm close. I might have been playing while you were outside."

"It's okay," she murmured. "Let's get the first time out of the way, then we can get serious." She picked up her movements, going from base to head in a steady rhythm, pleased to feel him in her hand again. She'd have to be careful, or this could get addictive.

A minute later, she could sense him getting close. Amy knew a mess was coming, but didn't want to deal with it, so she did what made sense. She moved down and put her mouth on his tip just in time to accept his gift.

"Mom!" he shouted, as his cock spewed a surprising amount of semen into her mouth, followed by more. Amy quickly swallowed load after load, stroking him lightly as he came. Seeing him there, tensed up and straining with his orgasm, she knew she'd want nothing more than to see him do this again and again.

When his stream of semen subsided, Amy cleaned him off with a quick tongue polish. He tasted surprisingly good for having not showered in days, and fucking her earlier. Maybe he'd washed up somehow?

Chris closed his eyes, breathing deep while Amy sat on his legs, stroking him idly and watching. His penis deflated, a small amount of semen seeping from his slit, which she bent and licked away. Feeling a bit cold, she grabbed the quilt and lay down, covering them both. She'd thought they could play some more, but clearly he was drained, as he was starting to drift off.

Content to cuddle, her leg thrown over his and her chest on his, Amy closed her eyes and fell asleep.

***

The morning light was softer the next day, hinting at the clouds still obscuring the sky. Amy woke to the feel of shifting and moving as Chris rolled out from under her.

"What?" she asked, brain foggy.

"I need to pee," he said, clambering to the door and out to the porch.

Hearing the sound of his stream hitting the ground outside, Amy cursed and got out of bed too. She hurriedly put on clothes and ran to the outhouse. Damn boys and their convenient peeing!

The night before hadn't gone how she expected, but it was probably a good thing. The fewer times he came in her, the better it would be for...consequences. Even if she was in her safe period, there was no point in tempting fate.

For the first time, it occurred to her to think about the future. What they might do when they get back to the real world. There was ending her sad marriage to think about, and where she would live, and what to do about...Chris.

Today was the day they went back, and they needed to figure it out now. This was an unusual situation, and it was better to have a plan.

She ran back to the cabin and found Chris dressed and putting together a cold breakfast. "Well? Are you ready for the adventure to be over?"

"Some parts," he said, grinning and handing her a plate.

"Yeah? Which parts will you miss the most? The rain? The cold? The outhouse?"

"Nooo..."

"No? Huh. I can't imagine what, then." She took a bite of bread, pretending indifference.

"First, I'll miss spending time with you. We haven't been able to hang out casually like this in a while."

Amy nodded, suddenly emotional.

"Second, I'll miss the seclusion. It freed us to be more open."

"You've given this some thought," she accused, impressed.

He nodded. "Third, I'll miss sleeping...and other stuff...with you. It felt really nice, from day one. I wouldn't trade this time for anything, even a fancy cabin with separate bedrooms." His ears went pink on the words 'other stuff'.

"I agree," she said, softly.

They finished up, and then went about setting the cabin back to the state it was in when they arrived. With regret, Amy put the album and diary back where she found them. Just before 10, they took their bags to the road and sat down to wait.

After a half hour, Amy started to get worried. They'd established quite clearly the pickup time with the old fellow who had dropped them off. Had something happened to him? Had he forgotten?

An hour went by, with no sign of their ride, or any other cars. The rain started up again, slowly building until it was a downpour. They reluctantly took shelter under a tree, keeping an eye on the road. Amy was feeling more and more like their ride wasn't going to show up, and was getting nervous. What would they do?

"Do you think, if we went back to the cabin, he would drive down to find us?" Chris asked, after two hours. His lips were blue and water ran down his face. Amy was no better. It was time to face facts: they couldn't stay out here forever.

"Let's go back," she sighed, grabbing her bag. Chris grabbed his, and the last box of food.

They trudged back to the lone building, to the small bed and the stuffed chair that felt so familiar to them now. Amy dropped her bag and stripped off her wet coat, throwing it out on the porch. Chris followed suit, and then started the stove up again.

"What will we do if he doesn't show?" he asked.

Amy felt a wave of despair. She didn't know what to do. If the weather was clear, she'd suggest walking, but it was too late and rainy to start out now, which meant another night.

"We're not that far out of town. I guess the only thing we can do is wait another night and then walk back in the morning."

Amy shivered, the growing warmth highlighting how wet she was. "I'm going to change," she said, and almost asked him to step outside, but really, what was the point anymore?

Pulling her shirt off, she let the hated bra loose to fall down her arms. Chris watched, his eyes rapt on her tits. She'd never had anyone pay them so much attention before, and it made her smile. It made sense, in a way, as he'd fed from them all those years ago.

"Your staring is going to go to my head," she warned.

"I can't help it. You're so sexy." His gaze didn't waver.

Amy slowed down her changing, watching the watcher as she stripped her pants and panties off. The cold was hitting her hard, so she went to the bed and lay down, pulling the quilt over her.

A heavy, portentous quiet filled the cabin as mother and son stared at each other. After a bit, he stood up and copied her, pulling his clothes off one by one until he could walk to her, completely naked, and stand by the bed. His cock protruded towards her, hard, and bobbing in time with his heartbeat.

Amy leaned up on one elbow, grasping his cock in her hand and pulled him to her mouth. One long lick up his shaft, ending at his bulbous head, and she couldn't take it anymore. He'd left her hanging last night, but not today.

"Come on, baby," she said, pulling at him.

On her back again, she made room for her son to join her on the bed. He grasped her knee and pulled her legs apart, which she allowed slowly. It was different this way; in the light, with everything on display. Chris' eyes were on her down there, where her legs joined, the center of her sex.

Amy attempted to cover herself, to cover her untrimmed amber coloured pubic hair, but he stopped her.

"Don't. I like it," he said.

"I'll trim it when we get home," she said, and then realized it was an admission they would continue post-weekend.

"I love it, no matter what. If you want to trim it, that's fine, but I love it already," he said, looking up at her face for the first time.

Amy moved her hands to her tits, squeezing them and enjoying the thrill of pleasure it caused. Chris smiled and watched, then moved up on the bed, between her spread legs. She felt exposed like this; vulnerable. Laying submissively, waiting for her son to take her and make her his own, was so alien to her, it felt like it was happening to another woman. Then he touched her thigh, lifting her leg, and she sighed. It was happening to her.

A bead of clear liquid sat at his tip, like a jewel. When he leaned over, it dripped down his shaft, and onto her vulva. Amy moaned when his cock came into contact with her labia, and then again when he leaned in, pressing his shaft between her lips. She spread her legs further, giving him more room to do his thing.

"Come here," she said.

Her son leaned down, arms on either side of her, putting his cock near where it should be. She grabbed him, angling his cock to its target until he was there, at her entrance. "Fuck me."

Chris pushed, his cock opening her wide, forcing his way into her vagina. She'd had him twice now, and it still felt like the first time: his girth stretched her beyond imagination, forcing her to breathe shallowly and angle her hips for the best angle for penetration. Having him enter her in missionary was so different, it felt all new.

He pulled back, and then pushed again, his shaft now coated in her juices, gaining a few inches. She moaned low in her throat, massaging her tits and pulling on her nipples. "Again," she whispered.

Her son, half his cock buried in her cunt, pulled out and thrust again, the new lubrication allowing him to bury more of his length in her. Another, and another, and he was in all the way, joined pubic bone to bone, his base pressing against her clit.

Amy had never been one to come from penetration alone. Her husband got her off that way around half the time, but with Chris, she felt herself soaring to her climax already. Just a few thrusts...

"Do me, full on, and don't stop," she instructed.

Her new young lover took to it like a pro, pulling out until he threatened to leave altogether, and then plunging back in. Gaining confidence, he started to fuck her in earnest. The movement shook her bodily, her tits wobbling, the delicious joy of feeling his cock entering her causing her to swear a steady stream.

"Ohfuckyeahchrisdomejesusfuckineedyourcockiloveyourcockfuckmeson, don't stop fucking me!"

He was soon panting with exertion, and said, "Mom, I can't...I can't hold..."

"It's okay, shhh, do it. Come for me, Chris. Come in your mommy."

She wasn't sure where that last had come from; some perverted section of her brain, but it had the desired effect. Roaring like a bull, he plunged one final time before coming, blowing his load directly against the entrance of her womb. She felt it like a warm flood in her belly, soaking her cervix in his sperm-laced spend.

The thought sent her over the edge. Chris was pumping her full of baby-making juice, depositing it right where nature demanded it go. She came suddenly and powerfully, mind blanked by the thought of what they were doing.

Chris collapsed on her, his sweaty torso squishing her breasts, twin points singing their pleasure. Amy clawed at his back as she twisted and writhed through her climax, belly quivering and shaking where her son's cock was buried. Each movement caused an additional twitch of after-shock pleasure, her pussy so sensitive she almost couldn't stand it.

Minutes later, their bodies cooling, Amy grabbed the quilt and tossed it over their still-joined bodies with a flip of her hand. When Chris had recovered a bit, he pulled her face to his for a kiss, which she returned joyfully.

They stayed like that for some time, necking and stroking, skin moving on skin, moisture spreading where it leaked from her still glowing pussy.

"That was incredible," he murmured, between kisses. She stopped his words with more kisses.

Eventually they split apart and put mostly clean clothes on. Amy could figuratively feel the weight of his semen in her, a reminder of what they were doing, so she went to the outhouse to let it drip from her. The act was a reminder of their coupling and the risk it had. Two days in a row he had coupled with her and finished inside, where his stuff could do its job. Despite her place in her cycle, they were playing with fire.

Amy briefly let the scenario play out in her head. Going home with Chris, going on about their lives. A few weeks from now she misses her period, takes a test and finds out she is pregnant with her son's baby. The picture from the album flashed into her head: a topless Peggy, many months pregnant and clearly loving it. Could that be her? Pregnant and growing Chris' baby in her womb? Might she already be pregnant?

She'd been raised to believe that abortion was a last resort, to be taken when health risks were severe. If she did end up pregnant, she would have no choice but to go through with it. Better to ensure it didn't happen, which meant getting home and going on birth control. Whether she never slept with Chris again, it was the smart thing to do.

Determined to make better choices, Amy headed back to the cabin. There was passion and sex, and there was putting their futures at risk. Once back inside, she found Chris sitting on the stuffed chair.

"We have time to kill, and I am seriously bored," he stated.

She sympathized. Seeing him there, she thought of a story he could read. Leaning down to him, she snaked her hand beside the cushion and dragged out the diary. "Try this. I didn't think it was very good reading material for my son, but under the circumstances, I don't think it can do any harm."

He took it, opening the cover. "Peggy's diary! Wow, I can't believe you hid this from me." He started to read immediately.

Amy grabbed the book she'd brought and lay on the bed to catch the last light. When it had grown dark, they lit the lantern and kept reading together at the table.

Chris turned a page, and then kept turning before slamming the diary down on the table. "Well that's a shit ending," he declared.

Amy nodded her agreement. "That was the sad ending I mentioned."

Chris turned to look at the cabin in the light of the lantern, as if with fresh eyes. "They lived here for months, her pregnant and hiding from George. How did they make it?"

"Love."

He glanced over at her, and nodded. "Yeah, it would have to be. With less rain and more food, I could see spending an extended amount of time here with you," he grinned.

"I bet you could." In fact, so could she. The last few days had been a far sight better than the last months of her marriage.

"Make love to me," she said, standing and holding out her hand. To hell with consequences, she wanted to feel her son's love inside of her. He took it and together they walked the few steps to the quilt-covered bed.

Chris took his time undressing her slowly, kissing her skin with each piece of clothing he removed. Shivers and goosebumps formed all over, making her crave his warmth, but he held her off. When her top came off, he spent time kissing and sucking on her nipples, gently at first, and then harder, like she liked. She came from his mouth alone, flooding her panties yet again, and creating a craving in her pussy for his large cock.

"I changed my mind," she said. "Don't make love, just fuck me, Chris. Put that dick in me, and fuck me hard."

He did that too, and soon she was on her back, dick pounding her into the mattress as she cried out his name. When he came, she joined him, until she was a puddle of a woman, full of cock and come, her earlier plan to make better choices thrown by the wayside.