The constant gardener

"You missed a spot", she said.

"What, where?"

She nodded, jerked her leg, and she was right. Drops ran down her naked shins. But it wasn't water. She knew it wasn't. It was sweat, big wet streaks of it, coming down her legs and body. I gulped.

"You can't mean it?" I whispered.

She didn't answer me immediately. Instead, she focused on her breathing and her excellent form.

"You know how much money separates me from you?"

I shook my head.

"Any guess?" she said. "No? And you know why, because you have no fucking idea what it takes to get here, what sacrifices have to get made. Your own mother, what does she do?"

I could barely get my mouth open. "I am an orphan."

"There", she said, lifting the weight up high. "Sacrifices. And do you believe that she is better off today, without you?"

I couldn't answer.

Her eyes locked me down. "I can assure you she is. To her you were something that she had to leave behind, to create herself anew. Wherever she is, I'm sure it is somewhere way beyond living in your boss' guest closet. Now, again, will you do what I ask you to do, or do you want to make a scene? And no touching."

She added the last thing, not looking at me, knowing that I was going to do it. And just to make her shut up I went down on my hands and knees again. It wasn't so bad, knowing I had done it before. And her muscles clenched and stretched under my tongue, meanwhile producing even more sweat falling between my kissing lips, like I was a desperate dog. Something extra salty fell on my tongue. I realized I was crying.

Licking her across the shins and calves I didn't miss a spot this time. At the same time, she never told me to stop. So, I moved upward, to her thighs, and licked them too. Sweat had penetrated the expensive synthetic material from underneath, along with the smell of her. It was rich with flavor, but like she was something perfect and half plastic herself.

Brazing herself, she waited for my tongue to move up her inner thighs to where her legs met, up the sculptured crack of her ass. Without warning she lowered herself on to my upturned face, and stayed for a moment in a half-way position before the combined weight of her and the machine forced me to the floor, with a taste on my tongue that I recognized as her excitement. Underneath the tight, black material her pussy was gushing.

Stepping away from me, she dried her face with a towel, checking her pulse. "Where's my glass of water?" she said.

This time, knowing where everything was, it didn't take so long, but I still felt uncomfortable in the kitchen. Her two daughters walked through once, each taking a peach. They stopped talking about their holiday plans and looked at me. I felt like a bug under their feet, especially with the taste of their mother in my mouth. We all knew I wasn't supposed to be in there.

Not spilling one drop I walked back to the gym. What I saw almost made me spill it all over again.

She lay naked on a thick leather bench, stretching her body. It glistened better than plastic, more like shiny latex covered in oil. Once again, she had her back to me, and her ass made me stutter. It was perfect, a Kim Kardashian masterpiece. She saved me by pointing at a small table. It seemed to be made exclusively to hold her glass so she could drink through a straw while lying down.

"You should get back to work", she said, looking at me with a naked look of distain, like it was me being exposed in front of her. I noticed my hardon and felt ashamed.

Backing away, I was glad to get out of there.

"But before you do", she said, "you can finish what you started."

She said it with me looking at her bare back, the lines of her shining muscles, down to her ass and twirling legs. She separated them slightly, and I saw her pink asshole and her even pinker and juicier pussy looking back at me. Her skin was still covered in sweat.

Forcing myself to stand still, I panicked inside. Her children were here, her husband too. There wasn't a locked door between us. All the same I knew who would get the blame if they discovered us together like this.

There wasn't any room for me on the bench. I had to bend over, placing on hand on the thick leather and the other one on top of it, legs stretched out behind me. I started at the thighs, letting it sink in what I was doing to her smooth skin, like she never even had to shave. Hungrily I continued to her round cheeks, but I lied to myself. I had to taste her again. I moved my open mouth and tongue to her wet pussy, drank from her like that hot day by the pool, slurping down the thick and oily water, tasting like her wet skin covered in plastic, but mostly of her excitement, more and more pooling in my mouth as if from a leaking faucet.

When I needed to breathe, I cleaned her between her cheeks, dug my tongue in there. There wasn't any lint at all, and I knew she worked out without underwear, with nothing between her and the exclusive material. Something self-degrading in me turned a wild eye across the room until I saw her cast-off second skin lying across a stool. I wanted to smell it.

Meanwhile, I heard her sucking up water through the straw, the tinkling of ice. The ice-cold sound clashed against the heat I pressed my face into.

Nothing covered her lower body but my saliva when she shoved me off with a kick from her powerful legs. I stumbled to the floor, almost hurting my erection. She stood up in front of me, revealing herself in all her glory, breasts full and young-looking, belly shaped by thousands of hours in the gym and at the pool without looking too muscled. I almost crawled before her.

I wanted her to touch me, to look at me. Anything to acknowledge me, even if it was just to be told to get back to work. But it was like I didn't exist anymore. She grabbed her shoes and her workout clothes and left the room. I heard a shower turning on, and imagined water twirling and whirling down her oily skin.

The rest of the day passed in a state of edginess. Eventually I saw her again, in the company of her children, laughing together, swimming in the pool. They looked perfect and happy together, all in their bathing suits. Even though the boy was my age and the girls above they all felt younger than me, more innocent.

I worked all day, until the sun went down and I saw the big lights turn on, the whole family gathering in the living room, eating supper all together for once. It looked nice. I cried while masturbating myself to sleep.

In the night, the rain started to fall, and it wouldn't stop for almost a month. As a consequence, almost everything was put on hold in the garden, except for damage control. I didn't see much of anyone. I seldom strayed from my tiny room, and no one came to visit me, not even Jeff. Looking out I saw a hell similar to the one I felt inside.

I had accepted to come work like this, living at the mansion, just making enough money to get by. Now I couldn't afford to leave, and deep inside I wasn't even sure I wanted to. What Mrs. Donnovan did to me was confusing and weird but this last time had made me realize that I also craved it. Being this intimate to someone pretty close to perfect was a dream come true, whatever the humiliation and frustration, or so I told myself. Maybe I even loved her, like a dog loves its owner. Because there was no question about it. She owned me. I couldn't think of the word slave, but that's what I was, doing everything for her and getting nothing in return. Was she some kind of monster? Had she done this before? A nagging feeling of fear made me loose even more sleep that night.

Eventually, hunger drove me out. The rain fell in torrents. Damage control was over. Enduring it and picking up the pieces was optimistic. I had never experienced anything like this in my entire life. And because I couldn't go outside, I took my chances finding some food in the guest house. In this weather, no one would notice. Besides, I didn't know how much worse it could get.

A storm cloud was moving above, sending flashes of lightning through the air as I used a tool to lift the inner latch of the backdoor. Moving quickly, I soon found something I could shew down without leaving any traces. I was about to leave when something caught my attention, filling me with dread.

The worst thing was, I wasn't sure what.

The guest house looked familiar, could that be it? But no, I'd never been inside the place before, and looking around I was sure of it. I'd never been inside this type of house before, like something in a hotel catalogue. Still, the feeling wouldn't leave, and I had to take a couple of deep breaths just to keep me from running outside immediately. You've never felt anything like it. It was like the whole of my childhood was screaming. Flashbacks came to me, a fleeting sense of touch, a smell, the first things a child sees when he opens his eyes for the very first time.

Jerking across the living room I stood face to face with a statue, bright and red, on the mantelpiece. It wasn't something I'd seen anywhere else, couldn't be. It was one of a kind, and here it was, after all those years. In this of all places. No wonder I felt terrified. It didn't make sense.

A flash of lightning blinded me. I fell across a low sofa, not making sense of it until another flash and I saw the silhouette of a person against the porch window, standing completely still.

I didn't know what I was thinking. I crawled across the floor, feeling my way forward, until I reached the woman in front of me. Fumbling my way up her pants I found a hand and buried it with tears and kisses.

"Mom!" I screamed. "I found you!"

"No", she said. "I found you, and I brought you here."

In the dark, through my tears, I couldn't see her face. "Do you know the Donnovan's?"

"Baby", she said with a faint chuckle. "I am the Donnovan's."

Lightning flashed again, and in the millisecond of light I saw Mrs. Donnovan smiling down at me. I let go of her hand.

"No..." I felt sick. "It can't be."

"But I told you, didn't I? You wouldn't be able to recognize your mother if you saw her now. But I recognized you. I've kept an eye on you."

Walking across the floor her high heels click-clacked against the floorboards. She stopped in front of the statue. Grabbing it, she threw it to the floor, destroying it with another flash of lightning. The red and white shards exploded against the wall. It was the only thing I recognized from my childhood.

No, that wasn't true. That smile, the first time she saw me. No amount of filler could have changed that. Nor her eyes. I should have recognized her anywhere.

Mrs. Donnovan was my mother. And she knew it. She'd always known.

Looking up, she was standing above me, waiting for my shock to diminish. Lightning flashed and her eyes and grin grew wider for each one, like the mask of a devil. It was all gone when she sat down on the couch and turned on the small reading lamp. She was in complete control of her emotions.

"I could have you arrested for breaking and entering", she said.

"What?"

"I have it all on camera." She pointed to it, like a spider sitting there.

"Why?"

"You are wondering why I did all this?"

"Yes..."

"Why I made you lick my pussy and body?"

"... "

"Why I treated you like dirt? Why I could, even now, make you do anything?"

"No..."

"You don't believe me?"

I shook my head in desperation. I wanted to believe it. A maelstrom of confused emotions coursed through me. Before this woman had been my mother, she'd made me worship her body like a slave. Sitting in front of me I saw that body more than I saw my mother.

"Why is your cock trembling?" she said.

Lowering my head and covering myself with my hands, it was already too late. She'd seen it, and made me see it too.

"I did it because you are disgusting", she said. "A low thing dragging me down, making me worse, like human filth. I knew I had to get away from you, and everything you represented."

"I made something of myself."

"You think you did, but all your struggles simply made you a more specialized servant to the ones that really matter in this world. I could have ordered you from McDonalds. It doesn't make a difference."

Smiling prettily, she beckoned me over. But when I crawled towards her, she grabbed my face, making me feel the sting of her long, sharp nails. I yelped.

"But having taken a step up I knew I couldn't call myself in control before I had faced that last reminder of my old self, the child I left behind. You. And made you mine. Used you, like a thing. Because you are not important."

I tore myself loose, but remained on the ground in front of her. "How can you say that? I'm your son!"

"No, my real children are in Cannes right now, behaving like little shits, I'm sure. They are a reflection of me, shows what power I have in society. Like you, they are not really important in themselves, only by what they represent. Me. They are disgusting, frankly, especially my daughters. I'm surprised they haven't tried to rape you by now. And you know, even if I told them that you are their half-brother, I'm not sure it would make a difference. Maybe it would just make it better. I admit it, even though all ties between us are cut, there is something pleasing about it, just the same. In fact, I don't think I will stop."

We looked at each other in the dim light, lightning still flashing outside, the rain pouring down. We were close enough for kissing. I swallowed and opened my mouth, tried to find some sympathy in those dark and piercing eyes. I wondered if she had changed her soul too.

"Unbuckle my shoes", she said. "And be careful."

I did as she asked, feeling the summer sweat on the tips of my fingers. The shoes were blue, like her pants and light jacket. I sat them carefully aside.

"Knowing who I am, kiss my feet", she said.

With a hiccup I did as she said, feeling the smooth instep of her foot against my lips. I covered her feet in kisses, trying to kiss the sweet summer sweat away.

"You are a good son", she said.

I cried, gazing up at her. "I am?"

Not answering, she said, "I want to feel my son's face against my pussy once more."

"Yes, mommy", I whispered.

"No!" she said, but then the lightning from her eyes grew milder. "Yes, call me mommy, why not. It's better that way, that you were never able to let go, and I was."

Standing up, she expected me to remove her pants, and I found the small buckle at her waist by touch, not able to look. I tried my best, but when I didn't feel any panties, I didn't have a choice as her crotch waited in front of my wide-open eyes. She seemed to be leaking as a response to my trembling lips, anticipating the pleasure.

I folded her pants carefully. Meanwhile, she removed her jacket. She was naked underneath. The shadows did nothing to decrease her beauty as she sat down, her legs wide open for my face.

"You've done it before", she said. "It's the same."

By God, I wanted it to be true, but just as much as I answered to what my well-trained body told me to do, both internally and externally I shock because of the horrible thing I was doing, going down on my mother, making her moan in real pleasure. Looking up, I saw her breasts heave, her eyes closed but her mouth open. My cock strained against my shorts. It was like body and soul were separated.

A spray of lust filled my mouth before my mother screamed in an orgasm that made her thighs close around my head, shutting me in. All my world was her warm flesh. I wished I'd been in heaven instead of hell. Breathing her in I wondered if I'd always recognized her smell. I'd come through there, a lifetime ago. She moved like she wanted to suck me back in. Struggling, I wasn't able to free myself. She was too strong. I tried to gasp for air but all that came into my lungs were more of her.

I fell on the floor, broken red pieces all around me. Fondling her left breast, squeezing the nipple tight, she bit her full lower lip with a shudder.

"Oh, I need you to fill me with your big cock", she said, digging the fingers of her other hand into her squelching pussy. It made her even more frustrated. "Come with your fucking cock!"

My body moved on its own, not listening to my soul's scream as I dragged my shorts and underwear off, with my t-shirt too. I couldn't bear the feeling of anything except her against my body. Stroking her leg, begging for permission, I stood up. My cock was as hungry and desperate as she was.

Opening her eyes, she glared at me. "What do you think you are doing, you little freak? Oh, no! You didn't actually think I was referring to you? You think that I would let something as smelly as you even come close to my body? Never in a million years would I let you fuck my tight and perfect pussy."

Seeing my tense body made her laugh. She looked at it, down to my cock. It was leaking precum, pathetically.

"Would you like me to trample your filthy little cock and have you lick the sperm off my toes?" Purring and stretching like a cat, lifting one foot in the air, she made my head spin. With a mocking grin, she said, "Would you like that so very much, your dirty little boy?"

Every second her toes came closer. I knew that I would burst as soon as she touched me, but I would gladly lick it off her feet, just to make myself useful in front of her. Standing like this, humiliated with my cock in front of me, was the worst thing of all, made worse by knowing that the woman I wanted to do these things for was my mother.

Just as I nodded, she turned her beautiful face away. I was too late. No! I had missed it! I begged her with my eyes, even shuffled a step forward, but she wouldn't even look at me.

"Come with me", she said, and as she walked naked to the front door, I followed her, ashamed to be seen naked next to her. She grabbed an umbrella by the door, still wet from when she had used it earlier. Outside the lightning flashed less frequently, but a dark part of me wished the death of her.

Protected by the umbrella, she walked across the saturated lawn, destroying the grass with her feet. Drenched and shivering I tried to move along carefully. We headed for the pool, barely even visible through the rain.

Pausing by the pool, not far from the roof over the patio, she glanced at my cock. It was still standing. I looked at her naked body in the dark, imagining myself close to it.

She grabbed me by the wet hair. I didn't know what she wanted before she forced me down the steps into the swimming pool. Crouching down she pressed my head until just my mouth and nose and eyes were above water. Because of the rain filling the air it was still hard to breathe. Thankfully, the pool had its own heating source and I stopped shivering from the cold.

Leaving me with my own thoughts she disappeared into the house. Soon I heard husky laughter. She came out with Donnovan. He was also naked, with his cock still hanging but silently growing to full size. She didn't have to do much. He obviously adored her body. He even followed her out in the pouring rain. She led him straight to me.

Kneeling by the side of the pool, a pillow under her knees, she started to suck his cock with wet noises, her full lips shaping themselves around his still growing width. She held me tight, making a fist in my hair, forcing me to look. As if I could do anything else. He grew until he was much bigger than my own aching cock.

Not wanting to serve him she planted herself on all fours, looking over her shoulder at him. Her face was over mine. He got the hint and buried himself in her wet pussy, fucking her hard as she liked. The sounds of their fucking, muffled by the rain, poured over me. The sight of her desperate face and swinging breasts made me touch my own cock, wanting to be Donnovan instead of me, fucking my own mother from behind. I came in three seconds. She saw my reaction and laughed. Meanwhile, Donnovan lifted his face to the rain and fucked her harder, making her cry soft noises of pleasurable pain right at me, making little faces that would haunt my every waking hour.