The Lockdown Ch. 02

SUMMARY: This is chapter two of a story about a mom and her son who unexpectedly spend the summer together after a worldwide pandemic hits the planet. This is a three-part story. If you haven't read the first part, I recommend it as it contains the back story and buildup to what occurs in chapter two. This second first part takes things even further as they explore what their newfound desires toward each other mean, ultimately leading to incestuous relations occurring in the home...

All characters in this story are 18 or older.

P.S. My stories are self-edited, so please be aware that there WILL be typos and an occasional inconsistency. Hope you enjoy it anyway! :)

WARNING: Chapters two and three contain some fetishes that may not be fit for everyone. Primarily having to do with nipple sucking and breast feeding with a lover. If either of these is not of interest to you, you should stop reading after chapter one.

DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction. Any character resemblances to real life personae are strictly coincidental. Copying, re-posting, storing (whether digitally or in print form) or redistribution of this material is prohibited.

[Chapter 02]

[ch2.01 Crumbling.]

Tension was palpable the next morning when I awoke. I felt it the moment my head lifted off my pillow. What had we done? How would last night affect my relationship with my mother? Surely one of us would come to our senses and call quits to our dysfunctional adventuring. I figured it would be her.

As I dragged myself out of bed, down the hall toward the kitchen, my throat tightened up until I could barely breathe. Worry plagued me. My stomach was turning summersaults. I felt like... like we were about to break up. But I didn't want to break up with my mom. We got along so great. Especially these last few months. Would this little deviation from our normal routine change all that?

When I reached the kitchen, I discovered that my mom wasn't there. That was weird. She was always there, making breakfast in the morning. Setting out to find her, I checked the bathroom, but it was empty. Finally, I made my way to mom's bedroom. Her door was still closed. Another oddity. Frowning, I reached a hesitant hand up to her door and gave it a light knock.

I heard something thump on the floor and then my mom cursed. A few seconds later, she called to me, "I'll be right out!"

Making my way back to the kitchen, I waited. Patiently at first. After ten minutes went by, my patience started to turn to worry. By fifteen minutes, I started to freak out. What was taking her so long? My thoughts betrayed me, poking me from the inside with small criticisms that amplified my worry. What if she was in there feeling guilty about what happened? What if she was upset with me for going along with the insane idea in the first place? But worst of all, what if she came out, and our relationship was forever altered for the worse?

I heard a creak in the hallway and lifted my head, watching the doorway until she walked through it. She looked tired. Like she had been up all night crying. She saw me and halted in the threshold of the kitchen. We stared at each other for a long, quiet moment. The elephant in the room was starting to feel suffocating, making me shift nervously on my feet. I opened my mouth to say something, but she spoke right then.

"I'm sorry baby," her voice sounded raw.

I just stared at her, not sure what to say. I didn't want her to be sorry. I wasn't. But I was afraid to tell her that, because if she called me out on it, then it was over. I didn't want it to be over.

Her shoulders sagged and she nodded, as if to herself. Then she said softly, "It was inappropriate and wrong for me to... to put you in that position."

Shrugging uncomfortably, I stared at her for a minute. I wanted to tell her how I felt. To tell her... fuck it. I blurted out, "Mom, I... I liked it."

Her head lifted slowly until her eyes were staring right at mine. Yes, her eyes were definitely damp from tears. She gazed at me, as if trying to see inside of me. Her eyelids narrowed slowly. I didn't flinch. I didn't pull away. After a long thirty seconds, she blinked. Then she whispered, "Me too."

The world froze. Neither of us spoke or moved. We simply stood there, staring at each other. Something passed between us, though. Something unspoken. Something non-physical. I felt it drift out of both of us at the same time, twisting and twining together until it was a single thread that connected us together. I almost gasped as warmth filled the pit of my stomach. Then I felt a tingling sensation akin to going down a big hill on a roller-coaster.

Mom must have had the same phenomenon because we both sucked in a short breath at the same time. Our eyes were locked. Then, as if something had broken loose, we both started grinning at each other. Big, stupid grins. In that moment, I knew something had just changed between us. Possibly something that would forever alter our relationship. I didn't even try to name it. I just basked in its warmth and enjoyed it. Walls had just crumbled in both our worlds.

A desire to hold her was suddenly so strong that all I could do was spread my arms apart and wait. Moments later, she stumbled into my embrace as I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her against my chest. She started crying again, but a good kind of cry.

[ch2.02 Alleviation.]

The next week felt like a test between me and my mom. We didn't talk about what had happened. But our newfound closeness seemed to be getting... closer. We weren't exactly being intimate together or anything like that. But our relationship just felt more personal. A lot of things went back to a quasi-normal. We dined together, hung out together, watched movies together, laughed together, and did just about everything together. But none of that included anything even remotely related to sex.

That is, until the following Friday. It was nearing the end of June. Getting closer to our birthdays. For the most part, the night wasn't much different from any other night. Mom cooked pasta with some homemade sauce. We ate in the kitchen, and then cleaned up the dishes together. Afterwards, she pulled out a fresh bottle of wine and brought it to the living room, along with two glasses.

Twenty minutes later, we were both nestled into separate ends of the couch, holding glasses filled with the dark red wine. We had the tv on, but neither of us was paying it much attention. We were chatting. About "normal" things. We talked about college, about life after college, about sports, about girls, about likes and dislikes. I made her laugh so hard one time, she almost spit her wine all over the place. All in all, it was a pleasant evening that had the slight semblance of... a date.

I started noticing mom touching her chest that night. Her boobs, more specifically. Every so often, she would reach a hand up to one of them and either squeeze it, or tug at it, or adjust it in some way. I didn't really mind, to be honest. In truth, my attention was pleasantly riveted on them. Her tits were absolutely perfect in my mind. And considering what had happened between us, I couldn't help but fantasize a little about seeing them.

At around ten o'clock, I leaned toward the coffee table and set my empty wine glass on it. The bottle was empty. We had finished the entire thing. I figured I probably had about a third of it, and mom drank the rest. She didn't appear drunk, but smiles did seem to cross her face more often than usual. And she started adjusting her boobs more frequently. I noticed at one point that I could see her nipples poking against the fabric of her shirt.

I started to wonder if they were sore or something, so I asked finally, "What's wrong?"

Mom turned her head toward me and shrugged. "Nothing's wrong," she said. As if to give away the lie, she reached up and pinched her fingers together around one of her nipples and pulled at it. She let go after a few seconds, not seeming to realize that I had seen her do it.

"With your boobs, I mean," I said softly.

"Oh," she said, glancing down at her chest. Her cheeks turned pink and she started shaking her head, whispering, "Sorry. It's nothing to worry about."

Frowning, I tilted my head and put on a concerned look. "Do they hurt or something?" I asked, genuinely concerned. And maybe a little intrigued. I kept staring at her shirt. Seeing her nipples poking through it was making my body heat up as arousal stirred deep within me.

Mom sighed, closing her eyes and nodding her head slowly. "A little, yeah," she admitted.

"Is that normal?" I asked.

She shrugged, opening her eyes and reaching for her wine. When she lifted it, she frowned into the empty glass and then focused on me again. Sighing, she said, "It's a little embarrassing."

"How so?" I asked, extremely curious.

My mom gave me a long look without saying anything. Her eyes flicked down briefly, then back up. I was sure she had looked at my crotch. Squirming a little, I sat forward, openly staring at her chest. Her nipples looked more pronounced. When I lifted my eyes to hers again, the expression on her face was different. She looked almost... breathless.

Finally, she shook her head and then said softly, "They just get... sensitive. Sometimes. Extremely so."

"Your nipples? Or your breasts?" I asked. The boldness of my questions didn't even dawn on me.

"Both," she answered quickly. Then she added, "Your dad used to help when this happened." Briefly, her eyes met mine, but then she pulled them away, staring at the tv.

Leaning forward, intensely intrigued, I whispered, "What did he do?"

Her cheeks started turning a dark red. She still wasn't looking at me. As I stared at her, willing her to answer, I watched as she reached her hand up once more and squeezed one of her tits. She rolled it around a little on her chest and then let go.

"Mom?" I asked, trying to get her to respond.

She drew in a deep breath and then sighed. Closing her eyes again, she turned her head toward me and then opened them. We stared at each other for several seconds. Then she looked down and finally answered, "He used to... to suck them."

"Oh," I said. Naturally, my mind filled with thoughts of sucking my mom's titties.

She seemed to be considering something. I waited patiently for her to say what was on her mind. When she did, her voice was a whisper, "He... sucked them. My nipples. But... uh. He did it, like, really hard."

Squirming, I reached down and adjusted my cock, which was hard. "And that helped?" I asked.

She shrugged, looking uncomfortable. Lifting her empty glass to her lips, she tilted it up anyway. I watched as a tiny drop of wine dribbled to the edge of the cup and spilled into her mouth. When she set it down again, she looked at me and said, "Yeah. I... it would always, uhh, get me off. When he did that. But it took away the pressure in my boobs."

Nodding slowly, I didn't know what else to say. I knew what I wanted to do, though. But offering it seemed entirely too forward. Despite our barriers being lowered, I wasn't exactly sure how far she was comfortable pushing things. All we had done so far was relatively harmless. Nothing physical had passed between us.

A few minutes later, mom got up and went to the kitchen. I stared at her body as she walked away, and again as she returned. She had another bottle of wine in her hand. It was half gone, so it must have been from another night. When she sat back down on the couch, she leaned over and refilled her glass, and then offered to refill mine. I held it out for her and watched her pour the red liquid into it.

We sat in silence, sipping our drinks. I had a pleasant buzz from mine. That may have been a factor in how I came to say what I said next. Speaking softly, I offered, "I could do it if you want."

"What?" she asked, turning toward me with her eyes narrowed.

Feeling embarrassed, I shrugged, and then said, "I mean I could do the thing that... that dad used to do." I couldn't bring myself to say what the thing was. That I wanted to suck on her tits.

She was shaking her head as she said, "No... you... you don't need to do that. I'm sure it will go away in a few days or something."

"It's not that big of a deal," I said, trying to play it down. Secretly, I was hoping she would let me. I desperately wanted to see her breasts.

"You're serious?" she asked softly.

I lifted my head and looked straight at her. Nodding just slightly, I whispered, "Yes."

She lifted her glass to her lips and took a long drag on her wine. Her glass was almost empty again. When she lowered it, she was shaking her head slightly as she whispered, "I can't believe I'm even considering this, but... ok."

"Ok?" I asked, feeling elated. I leaned forward a little.

She nodded, but she was grinning. Then she whispered, "This is crazy. But yeah... ok." Then, after a pause, she added, "But promise you will stop if it gets too weird."

Nodding at her, I drank the rest of my wine and set the glass down. Then I realized that I didn't know how to go about getting started with what I was about to do. I looked to my mom, hoping for guidance, but she was just staring at me, still holding her wine glass in one hand.

"Uh," I said. "How should I...?"

She lifted her glass to her lips again and quickly downed the rest. Then she set it on the table and turned back toward me. She seemed to be hesitant but after a few seconds, she reached down and grabbed the hem of her shirt. As she lifted it up, she whispered, "Like this."

The seconds seemed to move in slow motion as I stared at my mom. My eyes were glued to her body, sliding along her exposed skin as she lifted her shirt up over her head. She had a flat stomach, and her belly button was ovular and shallow. My eyes followed her hands as they lifted up her body. Suddenly, her chest was bare, and I found myself staring at the most beautiful pair of breasts I had ever seen. They were perfect. Absolutely perfect. They were plumply round, sagging just a little and creating a crease along the bottom of each one. Her nipples were a medium shade of red, darker in the middle. And each one was clearly jutting out about a centimeter from the top of her tits.

My body started tingling with arousal. I swallowed and then licked my lips, looking up at her face. Her eyes seemed glassy, the light reflecting off their surface. She didn't seem nervous. Apprehensive maybe, but not nervous. My heart was thudding loudly in my chest, my lungs taking only partial breaths. I decided this was probably just as much of a turn on to her as it was to me. And God was I ever turned on.

As I stared at her, my mom leaned back against the armrest of the couch, staring at me. I watched her chest rise and fall, faster than normal. Swallowing again, I forced myself to start forward, climbing partially onto her outstretched legs. I had one knee pressed down on the couch directly between her thighs.

My eyes took in the sight of her beautiful breasts. Inhaling sharply, I realized that I wanted nothing more than to climb onto her and slide my cock inside of her. Shaking, I leaned slowly forward. She was gently shaking and when I glanced at her face, her lips were parted at the center. I could see that she was breathing rapidly. Slowly, I leaned forward until my face was hovering inches above one of her breasts. It was shaking from her trembling body.

Taking in a breath, I lowered my head and opened my lips, surrounding her nipple as I pressed my mouth to her tit. My mom made a soft moan, squirming on the couch. As gently as I could, I closed my lips around her nipple, squeezing it lightly. Her squirming turned to tremors and I heard her breath catch. Spreading my lips apart once more, I pushed my face against her squishy breast, feeling her skin sink into my mouth. Then I pulled back, slowly closing my lips until they surrounded only her nipple. Her body started shaking.

"Not... not like that," mom whispered. She sounded strained, and her body was still trembling. She continued, "That's too... too intimate, baby." Her breath caught as my tongue brushed across the tip of her nipple. A few seconds later, she whispered, "We... we can't... shouldn't... be so... so intimate."

I continued anyway, even as she whispered her sweet protests in my ear. Her body started trembling and her moans sounded different. I heard her breath catch, and then her hands were on my neck, rubbing me. "Baby...," she whimpered, which only encouraged me. Gently, I sucked her nipple between my lips and lapped at it with my tongue. I could feel the tiny grooves of her puckered skin, tickling the tip of my tongue.

"Oh god...," she moaned, her head falling back. Her body shuddered and her hands squeezed harder, sliding down to my back.

Suddenly she gasped and pushed at me. She whispered frantically, "This isn't right. It's too... too sensual. Baby, you have to stop-- uhnnnn!"

Her words cut off as I sucked a little harder, tickling my tongue back and forth across the tip of her nipple. Opening my mouth wider, I took more of her breast inside my mouth. My cock was hard and tingling like crazy. Without thinking, I lifted my hand to her belly and slid it up her skin to her other breast. She gasped loudly as I pinched her other nipple. I felt her chest pushing up against me, her back arching.

"Harder," she whimpered.

I pushed my entire body forward, opening my mouth as wide as I could and sucking half her breast inside. My tongue swept back and forth across her nipple. It felt like hard rubber, whipping back to an upright position with each pass. My knee was getting warm as it pressed into her crotch. Mom's breathing was coming in wild gasps.

Her hands on my back tugged at me urgently as she whispered, "Harder, baby."

I clamped down with my lips, squeezing the flesh of her tit. It slid out of my mouth slowly as I continued my pressure. Mom shook beneath me, and I felt her hips moving, grinding her crotch against my leg. It was extremely hot. Her body spasmed suddenly and her breast started pulling out of my mouth. Instinctively, I clamped down as hard as I could, and my lips caught her nipple between them.

"Uhnnnnnnn...," mom moaned. I felt one of her hands sliding around my side and onto my chest. Then she whispered frantically, "Harder... god, harder!"

Sucking in a deep breath through my nose, I opened my mouth and pushed my face forward just until I had enough of her fleshy skin to get a better hold. Forcing strength into the muscles surrounding my mouth, I clamped down once more. And then I started sucking. Hard. Mom groaned loudly. I sucked harder. There was a funny taste on my tongue, like alkaline. I sucked harder still. The muscles in my cheeks were straining, aching from the pressure.

Mom's hand on my back was suddenly pulling at me, hard. But at the same time, her other hand, planted on my chest, was pushing. It was like she was squeezing me from both sides at once. She started shaking and I threw every ounce of strength I could into sucking even harder.

My mom's scream pierced the room, reflecting off the walls. Her body started thrashing beneath me. I felt her pussy grinding hard against my knee. Her hands pressed harder on both sides of my body, front and back. Her body shook violently, and I felt mine moving with it. The muscles in my face were burning, but I held on, continuing my suction of my mother's breast.

"Ahhhhhuhnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn," she let out an exhausted moan, just as her body suddenly went completely limp. The pressure on my chest and back eased off and her hands slid down my body, dropping to her sides.

Easing my mouth open, I lifted my face from my mother's chest. I panted loudly, heavily aroused, and stared down at her. She lay, eyes glazed and staring at nothing. Her only movement was her chest, rising and falling rapidly. My eyes lowered to her chest and I stared in shock at her breast that I had been sucking on. Her nipple was lying flat, no longer erect. But surrounding it was a large, angry looking hickey. Holy shit! I made a strangled sound and her eyes fluttered toward me, recognition blooming in them.