The Hive Expands Ch. 01

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Mom Brings Home A Rider.
1.5k words
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Part 1 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/11/2023
Created 11/21/2022
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[Author's note: Full credit to author GaryLMMartin (I recommend you follow him) who introduced me to the Hive. I hope you enjoy this, Gary, and think it is up to your standards

"Mom?" I said, smiling. She was home early from one of her business trips and that meant I wouldn't be living on Hamburger Helper for a while.

When you're the first female Vice-President of Seven Boring Things for a Fortune 50 company you tend to be on the road a lot. I had always managed, though, and by now, as a 20-year-old college Junior, I figured I was pretty independent. Which is how it happened that as she walked in, unexpectedly, I was just finishing that night's dinner of Hamburger Helper (Stroganoff of course).

"Are you hungry?" I asked, oblivious as I suppose all 20-year-olds are to how she wasn't her usual bright self.

"No thanks, honey," she said, and even I caught the, well, the dullness in her voice.

"Are you all right?" I asked, walking to her and putting my hands on her shoulders. I was surprised, and a little hurt, at the way she seemed to flinch at my touch.

"I'm fine, honey," she said in that oddly toneless voice, "but I need a shower."

I watched her walk toward the bathroom but, well, my 20-year-old attention span was pretty limited and I was binge-watching "True Blood" and was anxious to see if Anna Panquin would be naked tonight. So I loaded my plate, went into the living room, and settled back. It was a good night, with plenty of naked vampires.

I finished my dinner, watched another episode, and then decided to call it a night. I had a test tomorrow, Government Economics if it matters, and I wanted to be fresh. I was on a full-ride scholarship and had been maintaining a 4.0 grade point average which I did not want to jeopardize. I still had, in those heady days, dreams of a Rhodes Scholarship and doing graduate work at Oxford.

I went to sleep easily, as I always do, and rejoined a dream I had been having regularly of that blonde cheerleader who was so far out of my league it was only in dreams I would ever have a shot with her.

In the dream, I felt her fingers lift my scrotum, and then I flinched a little when she pinched right down at the bottom of my scrotal raphe, that little line that divides a man's scrotum into two halves.

Her kiss felt real and the fingers caressing my skin were drawing goosebumps as they moved over my body.

I opened my eyes in time to see mom moving to kiss me.

"Mom," I said, getting my hands between us, "what the fuck?"

Then I cried out as a sudden pain, sharp, stabbing, hit my balls.

"Don't fight it, honey," she said in that same toneless voice, "please."

When she kissed me the pain left, just disappeared, and was replaced by pure pleasure, that sensation every man knows, right at the instant his ejaculation starts, but this time it didn't end in a second. It lingered along with the kiss.

She broke the kiss and I gasped for breath and then shuddered as the pleasure disappeared as quickly as the pain had. Its absence was almost as bad as the pain and I cried out softly.

"What?" I managed.

"It can be beautiful," she said, and for the first time I heard real emotion in her voice, "but don't fight it."

"Fight what?" I asked, feeling the lack of that pleasure as if it was a lingering pain.

She smiled then, and again, a real smile.

"The future, Davey," she said and kissed me again.

There was that pleasure again, making my erection throb, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to wrap my arms around her, take her into an embrace, and hold that kiss.

Her skin was warm and soft and the pleasure from the kiss was making my fingers tingle anyway. Where I touched I could feel little goosebumps rise and skin tighten.

And then I met her Rider.

It was warm and slightly moist, its surface somehow oily and dry at the same time, and my finger jerked away in revulsion, a reaction far below any thinking, down where the little tadpole that was my 10 million times great-grandparent had tried to flee from the bigger fish going to eat it.

When my arm jerked the pleasure disappeared and the pain that replaced it was exquisite. My balls were on fire. My erection was being torn away. My spinal cord was filled with acid.

I tried to scream, but her mouth covered mine and she inhaled it, drawing it deep in her lungs like it was a hit from the best pot ever.

"Don't fight it, Davey, please don't fight it," she said, releasing my mouth and covering my face with kisses.

The pain disappeared, the instant relief leaving me gasping and trembling and, well, okay, crying.

"Please, honey," she kept saying over and over, almost like a chant, as she covered my face with kisses.

I slowly relaxed, accepting her kisses, and feeling the pleasure as the pain receded. Well, not pleasure but the absence of pain which was almost as good.

"What?" I managed again.

There was that smile again, happy, a smile I could see on the face of a nun who had just communed with her god.

"The future, Davey. They arrived a month ago. And now they're here and our future is wonderful," she said.

She smiled and rolled over onto her side, her back to me, and there it was.

"It's my Rider," she said, and you could hear the pride in her voice, "isn't it beautiful."

The thing, okay, the Rider, was like a pancake against her back, nestled between her shoulder blades. As I watched it pulsed slowly, not in time with her heartbeat but with its own rhythm. It was almost flesh colored and I wondered if it adopted its host's coloration.

It was so perfectly merged with her skin that I suspected that if I managed to pull it off her skin would come too, leaving me looking at bare muscles. As I thought about pulling it off I felt a sharp stab in my groin and deliberately turned my thoughts to look at the rest of her.

And she was worth looking at. Mom's a small woman, 5'3" and maybe 110 pounds. She has slim hips but a delightfully round ass. And she doesn't show her 46 years at all. Her skin is smooth.

I was interrupted by her voice.

"Touch it," she said.

When she said that a ripple pulsed through the Rider on her back.

I took a deep breath but I had learned my lesson and I didn't try to say, or even think, "no."

I touched it with a tentative finger finding it, as when I had touched it accidentally earlier, oddly dry and oily at the same time. It was warm too, a bit warmer than the surrounding skin.

As I touched it I felt a warmth, not that intense pleasure, but a delightful warmth, spread through my groin.

I felt mom squirming a little and heard her sort of murmuring, "momomomomomom," and something that sounded like "mamoonisham mamoonisham."

And I could smell her, the marvelous womanscent of a sexually aroused woman. Her pheromone-laden scent made me even harder and I felt the first tingle of that perfect pleasure.

I moved toward her and the tingle got more intense. When her back arched and her ass met my erection the pleasure made my breath catch and as I watched, unable to look away, the ripples, the pulsing of her Rider got faster.

I reached down and guided myself, pushing my erection down and feeling how wet, no, how slick she was. I was surprised not at all when she sighed and pushed down, taking my length inside of her.

I knew I suppose, looking back, on some level that I was being controlled but I didn't care. This kind of pleasure was beyond anything I had ever imagined. Anything was worth being able to have it.

So when I reached around her and cupped her breast in my hand, finding her nipple, a hard pebble against my palm, and rolling it between thumb and forefinger, it was perfectly natural to press myself against her back, against her Rider.

And there it was, the pleasure of ejaculation, that pure physical pleasure that has men masturbating well into their 80s, but this time it wasn't just a sudden burst of pleasure that ended. It went on and her Rider sent its own waves through my nipples where I touched it while my own embryonic Rider held me there at that moment of ecstasy.

I couldn't breathe. I literally couldn't breathe. My diaphragm refused the commands from my brain and then from that area well below thinking, as my body realized it needed oxygen.

But I couldn't breathe.

I felt my body try to panic, but my Rider tamped that down.

I watched as my vision slowly darkened.

I was happy.

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