The Harem Ch. 02

The Beast, who had been alternately mildly annoyed and lightly restless since leaving the party, was prowling around in Mark's chest, waiting to break free. It was a tiger prowling behind Mark's rib cage eyeing someone just on the other side of the bars. It was hungry and it knew the meal it longed for was just the other side of those bars.

Mark heard the front door open and saw his mother's silhouette against the light. She stood there, just a shadow in the doorway for a moment and Mark felt the Beast rise with interest. Hungry wasn't a strong enough word to describe the Beast. He saw in that shadowed form the swell of her breasts and the flare of her hips. He saw a beautifully fit, athletic woman with just enough curve to remind everyone who saw her that she was a mother of three. Here was a woman who embraced who she was. This wasn't a girl child clinging to immaturity and afraid of growing up. There was no pretense at being younger than 45, for all that she may have looked a lot younger. Here was a woman, and the Beast wanted her.

Mom turned on the porch light and Mark saw that she was still wearing her cocktail dress. Mark took her in as she stood under the porch-light. He took in the form fitting dress. He took in the little glimpses of flesh beneath the lace work on her arms and upper chest: perfectly modest and perfectly alluring. He took in her legs, her beautiful, strong legs and all he could think of was those legs rubbing against his own earlier that night. He thought of those arms around him. Those hands on him. Those lips kissing him. She didn't move. She must have known that Mark was staring at her, but she stood and patiently waited for Mark to get out of his car.

Mark found that he didn't care that he wasn't supposed to want her, she was the sexiest, most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He couldn't say anything about right or wrong. His mind was filled with a single thought that blurred all others into the background.

He wanted his mother every bit as much as the Beast did.

He surrendered to the Beast and felt the power of his inner-most self, propel him out of the car. He kept his eyes on his mom until they made eye contact and then he held her. There was maybe twenty feet from the street to the front door and the pool of light where Mom waited for him. He took his time walking the short distance, careful to hold his mother's eyes the entire time. He felt her across the distance. He felt her trapped in his gaze. He felt her wait in the trap, making no effort to escape him.

Mark stepped up to the door right next to his mother. She leaned against the door frame and looked up at him slightly. "You're home early, Baby."

"Turns out Liz is a minor," Mark said, "I didn't feel like going to jail tonight."

Mom raised one eyebrow. "You want to tell me over a drink?"

Mark held out an arm for her. "That sounds lovely."

Unlike when River had held out his arm for her, there was no contrivance, no self-consciousness in Mark's gesture. For Mom to take it seemed the most natural response and she leaned slightly into him, her braless breasts pressing into his arm, as they walked to the living room. Mom gestured for Mark to sit on the couch and poured them each a glass of wine.

Mark told her what had happened, how he felt, and how he had left.

"That won't do," Mom said with a frown. "It's senior prom."

Mark frowned. "Mom. I won't miss it."

"Maybe not," she said, "but you should enjoy at least one dance." She tapped a couple of buttons on her phone and a soft, waltz played on the stereo. "The question is if you will dance with me, or if I should go wake up one of your siblings?"

Earlier that might have been a choice, but now Mark knew what he wanted. He stood. "Mother," he said with a formal bow, "may I have this dance?"

Susan stood and offered a little curtsy. "Certainly, my Son."

He took her hand and led his mother toward the basement.

"Baby?" Mom asked.

"There's more room in the basement," Mark said. "You can play the music down there."

Mom smiled, reached back for her phone and clicked a few buttons while Mark led her down. The basement filled with the ethereal tones of a waltz in f major. Mom put her phone on a side table as Mark cleared the few photography items that were still out from earlier, and they danced.

Mark was a physical being. It wasn't just that he was good at Akido or sports, and it wasn't that he spent summers working construction. He was a physical being and his body learned physical forms the way other people learned the basics of their daily lives. He made the kata of akido seem effortless, and he made the waltz seem as easy as breathing. Mark twirled and spun his mother around the basement in time to the music. Every time they separated, he made sure they came together closer than before. He made sure that Mom felt his muscles as he led her around the dance floor. He made sure she saw the hunger in his eyes. He made sure that every time he pulled her closer, she felt the growing bulge in his pants and he felt the soft give of her braless breasts until he thought he could see her nipples through the fabric.

The waltz ended and the stereo played a string quartet rendition of "As time goes by."

Mark slowed the steps of the waltz and transitioned into a modern slow dance. He let go of the hand leading his mother and placed both of his hands on her back, pulling her close. Mom didn't fight him but draped her arms around his neck after pushing his coat aside so that she was leaning into his shirt. Mark felt the contrast between the soft give of her breasts and the rigid attention of her nipples through her dress. She felt his cock through his pants though both pretended not to notice. Their bodies pressed together as their eyes fixed on one another. There was a moment when Mark saw something subtle shift in his mother's gaze. A moment when he knew she wasn't going to pretend that she couldn't feel his bulge and he pressed his cock into her lower belly. She pressed back, pressed against him. Not aggressively. Not in defiance. Not like how Liz might have done it. But with acceptance. It was a tease, an invitation for more, not a gambit to take control. It was a caress inviting him closer. He pulled her closer and felt her breath catch as he pressed her nipples against his chest. They must be hard and sensitive to have her responding like that. He wanted to see. He wanted to take his time stripping her down and gazing on her naked flesh as they danced. Something happened in that moment - some subtle shift of posture and Mark knew that his mother would submit to him. He knew she would follow his lead wherever he took her tonight, and she would do so gladly.

That was when the part of Mark's brain that had given way to the Beast woke up. He blinked and tried to step back, tried to retake control before things got out of hand. He needed to leash the Beast and get back to the world as it was instead of the world he dreamed about, but Mom held on to him.

"Don't," she whispered. It wasn't a command. She wasn't about to command the beast to whom she had already submitted. It was a request. "This is the happiest I've seen you in years," she said softly, "Don't lose it, Baby. Whatever it is, don't lose it."

"Mom," Mark's voice came out in a soft, chocked whisper. He was afraid to speak, and unable to stop himself. "I'm hungry." Their eyes were locked together and he knew he couldn't keep the unspoken words out of them. "I'm hungry for you," they said.

She smiled and caressed his cheek. "I know." She tilted her head up, closed her eyes, and parted her lips in invitation.

Mark couldn't have refused if he had wanted to as the Beast returned to the fore. That part of Mark's brain that said this was wrong, that told him time and again that he was just a stupid angry man child playing at life died beneath the raw power of the Beast. His lips lowered to Mom's and teased them. The contact was hot, electric. Mom tried to push herself up on her toes for more contact but Mark pulled back, maintaining only the slight, teasing touch of their lips.

Mom's arms fell from his neck and her hands rested against his chest. Mark cupped the back of her neck, just as he had wanted to do earlier in the evening, his fingers twining through her dark hair, and held her in place as he kissed her with savage tenderness. Mom struggled to keep her knees supporting her as her son kissed her. The touch of their lips was not alien to them, but the heat of passion that accompanied it was electric. Mark knew his mother had submitted on the dance floor, maybe at the porch, maybe as early as when they had taken pictures together - but it was one thing to know it, and another to experience it.

It was precious to him, and he intended to be careful with his mother's submission even as he intended to enjoy it.

Mark was gentle as he pried open her lips and caressed her mouth and tongue with his own. He didn't let his hands roam at first. He wanted to experience the kiss to it's fullest. Mom wanted more, but was patient, and though she was not insistent or challenging him for control, she was not passive either. As much as Mark wanted to focus on the kiss, it seemed Mom wanted to touch him everywhere. She ran her hands over his chest, onto his shoulders and up to his face where she held him as only a mother can. She ran her hands though his hair and back down again before wrapping around him and exploring the expanse of his back.

Mark used his free hand to press her into his cock and she moaned into his mouth at the contact. Her tongue danced with his as they kissed and she ground her hips into him. Mark gripped her hair gently and pulled her head back. Mom went willingly at the slightest pull and exposed her neck for him. Mark leaned down to kiss the long neck, to lick and nibble it. Each taste was heaven and Mom moaned and ground herself against his ever harder cock with every contact of his mouth against her hot skin.

He wasn't sure when they had moved to the side of the room, but he felt the wall as he pressed his mother's back against it. She started to take his coat off but he pulled back and stopped her. Her face was a mix of lust, love and absolute horror. Mark knew she was afraid he had changed his mind.

"Not here," he said. "I want my first time with you to be in a bed." He leaned down and whispered into her ear, "Where you can be comfortable while I'm making you scream."

She couldn't keep a shudder from her body and her knees finally gave out under her. Mark picked her up, not princess style, but by the ass, forcing her to wrap her legs around him. He held her there, legs wrapped around him, back against the wall, his hands on her ass, and his cock pressing into her groin. He took his time experiencing the feel of her ass in his hands. He felt the globes of it against his palms, the softness of it against his fingertips. He felt the heat of her pussy lips through his pants, and the scent of her arousal drifted up to greet him before he finally noticed why her ass was so especially wonderful in his hands.

"Why mother," he said in another savage whisper, "I don't think you're wearing any panties."

"Why Son," she breathed through her arousal, "I didn't realize you were so observant."

He carried her upstairs quietly. He didn't want to wake up Rachel or River. Not that he was about to be embarrassed for what was going on or that he was afraid of their response. He just didn't want to disrupt their sleep. Mom saw what he was doing and smiled with understanding. She did not kiss him or egg him on in any way. She let him carefully and quietly take her to her bedroom.

Her bedroom was tastefully decorated in simple earth tones. The giant king size bed dominated the space of course, but there was still plenty of room for Mark to put his mother back on her feet.

"Can you stand?" he asked her.

"Yes."

He took a step back. "Go ahead," he said, "I know you want to."

Mom smiled as she walked forward and put a hand on her son's shoulder's. "You are so handsome." She undressed him carefully. It had something of a ritualistic feel to it: a mother taking care of her son - a woman taking care of her man. Mark could tell, though he had no idea how he could tell, that she didn't have to work to focus on the task at hand. She really did want to do this. She wanted to pamper him, take care of him. She wanted to love him, and he wanted it just as much.

Her hands lingered with every touch. She slipped the jacket from his shoulders, careful to drag her fingers along every line of his body as she passed it. She breathed deeply, inhaling his scent as she untied the bow-tie and unbuttoned his shirt. Mark watched her breathing get heavier, watched the rise and fall of her breasts, as she exposed his muscled chest. Standing bare chested in his mother's room, he didn't press his mother to move faster. She didn't linger over his body, not yet. She undid his belt, pulled down his pants and removed his socks so he stood in his boxer briefs. They were short in the leg, barely long enough to qualify as boxer shorts at all, and tight enough that every bump and ridge of his cock was clearly outlined through it. All of his underwear was like that. Some women liked thongs, some men liked briefs, Mark liked the quiet expression of male sexuality that was tight boxer briefs. Mom hung up the pants then turned to look at her son. Mark knew that he was muscled without being chiseled. He was fit and athletic, not a body builder. The lines of his body were bold and decisive without being decorative.

"Touch me," he said. "Feel me. I want you to explore my body."

"Should I..." She gestured to her dress.

"No," Mark said. Then he smiled. "Not yet."

Mom returned the smile then cast her gaze over her son's body. "God, you're hot," She said. She ran a hand over Mark's naked chest. "I haven't touched a man like you in years." She traced the lines of his collarbone, his pecs and his abs. She walked around him, dragging her fingers along his hot skin. Mark closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of his mother's room. He smelled the perfume she liked to wear, the soap she used, and the hot musky scent of her arousal as she touched him. He felt her cool fingers running along his skin sending bolts of pleasure through his body. He heard her breathing get faster.

"Hands on me," Mark said. He turned his head and saw Mom with a hand on her chest drifting towards her tit. He took her wrist in his hand. It was gently done, he didn't want to bruise her, but it was forceful. "The only hand touching you tonight will be mine." He took her hand and placed it on his hip. With his free hand he cupped her neck. "The only lips touching you will be my lips." He kissed her, harder than before. He kissed her to possess her. To claim her. To let her know that she was his and his alone. He pulled his lips away and captured her gaze. "Am I clear?"

Mom's breathing was hard and fast. "Crystal."

Mark reached down and placed a hand on Mom's leg before dragging it up the outside of her thigh, pushing the dress higher. "Tonight, you are mine." His hand climbed higher. "Say it."

"Tonight, I'm yours."

Mark kept one hand on the back of Mom's neck and the other climbing up the outside of her leg. It was high enough that had she been wearing panties Mark would have been teasing the edge of it. "Now tell me the truth," His hand eased up higher, pulling the rest of the dress with it until Mom's pussy was only barely covered and the bottom of her ass cheeks were exposed to the air, "When we were taking pictures earlier tonight, did you want me to stay home?"

"Yes," Mom kept one hand on Mark's hip and the other on his chest.

"Why?" He leaned down to kiss her neck as he continued to drag the dress up. He felt the heat from his mother's pussy radiating against him as he pulled the fabric of the dress up to her waist.

"I wanted you to seduce me. Seduce Rachel. River. I wanted you to seduce all of us. Take all of us. I wanted you to take me and I wanted to watch you take your siblings."

"Do you still want that?" His Mother's belly was exposed but he didn't look. Not yet. He needed to taste more of her.

"Yes."

"Even if I claim them like you? Even if they are mine like you are mine? Even if it means that you have to share me with them?" His hand stopped just as he was about to expose her breasts and he looked at his Mom. "I don't do things halfway, Mom. If I do this, there is no going back and no giving up."

Mom clutched at Mark's chest with one hand and ground her hot pussy into his still boxer clad cock. "Yes," she moaned. "God Yes. Please yes."

"Whatever Mama wants," Mark said. She had been calling him Baby all night. She had been using her little nickname for him, to emphasize that this was her son seducing her but to hear her son call her "mama" made her go weak in the knees all over again. She didn't fall, but Mark felt her wetness seeping through his boxers where her pussy rubbed against him. "Now let me see Mama's beautiful, naked body."

He pulled the dress up and off. He watched her breasts pull up with the dress at first, only to fall as the fabric went over her head. Finally naked, Mama had to force herself to be still while her son took in the glory of her naked body. And Mark absolutely thought she was glorious. Her dark brown areola were large on her relatively modest breasts. Her nipples were hard and begging for attention. Her slim waist flared out to generous hips that gently held her hot and dripping pussy between them. Her pubic hair was carefully trimmed to a neat carpet around her pussy. It wasn't shaved or fashioned into a pattern of any kind, just neatly trimmed. Mark brought his eyes up again, lingered on those magnificent breasts and made eye contact with his mother. She was just as hungry as he was, but she was holding back. She was waiting for him to give her the go ahead for the next step in the dance.

Mark placed the back of his hand against Mama's cheek and dragged his fingertips down her neck and between her breasts. He let his hands and fingers dance over her skin without touching her breasts or nipples. he felt her breathing quicken, felt her blood rise and her skin grow hot. He took his mother's mouth with his own, pulled her naked body against him and felt her hard nipples press into his chest as she tried not to collapse against him. He pulled her to the bed and sat down, pulling her ontop of him. His hands grabbed and caressed her ass as he worked his mouth down from her lips to her neck to her breasts. He licked and nibbled, avoiding those sensitive nipples, teasing them with his breath and his closeness as Mama grabbed at his hair and back, gasping with every move he made and moaning with pleasure as he played with her body.

When he finally licked her nipple and took it in his mouth, when he kissed it and nibbled and teased it with tongue and teeth and lips, every act was met with a corresponding thrust of Mama's hips or drip of juice from her pussy.

"Oh Baby that feels so good. Mama likes that."

He squeezed her ass and teased the area around her pussy without touching it. He sucked her nipples drawing another groan from her throat. Then he lifted his head and looked at her.

No further words were required. Mama slipped off his lap and kneeled before her son, her face even with his cock. She placed her hands on the waistband of his briefs. Mark lifted his hips and she pulled his briefs down. His cock sprang free and slapped her in the face, drawing a gasp from Mama. But she didn't stop pulling his briefs off until they were off, and the pair were naked together. "Finally," Mama said with a sigh of relief and joy. She reached up with one hand and gently cradled her son's cock against her cheek. She didn't need to measure it to know it was nine inches long and two inches in diameter. She didn't need to feel the weight of it to know the strength behind it and she didn't need to feel it in her to know that Mark knew how to use it.