The Mistake Pt. 04

He let out a sigh and pushed a hand through his hair.

"This might sound weird but... have you noticed anything... odd, with your mother?"

Well. Shit. I guess we're doing this.

I raised a questioning eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Yeah see, that's what I don't know," he said, tilting his glass on the side, swirling the liquid inside. "One moment she's normal and then she's... I just dunno."

Acting like an irritated bitch? Out loud I said, "You were arguing before. In the room."

"Yeah sorry," he said, turning the glass the other way. "You weren't supposed to see that."

"It's fine," I said and took another sip. "Everyone fights now and then. It's normal." Not so normal what me and mom was 'fighting' about though.

He nodded, glancing once again towards the cute bartender. "I suppose you're right. Everyone has their ups and downs, right?"

I stifled a sigh and blinked twice. I fucking hated myself for my next words. "Yeah. I'm sure you'll work through it though, whatever it is. I mean, you have in the past, right?"

He let out an amused huff before taking another sip, smiling into the glass as he did.

"Yeah, yeah we have," he said. Then he switched his glass to his other hand before giving me a slap over the shoulders. "Sorry about dropping this on you. You should hardly have to worry about it. No one else around I feel comfortable talking with though."

What a piece of shit I was. "Don't worry about it dad," I said, my voice unwavering. "Like you said, we're friends, right?"

"Right," he said, smiling. Then he looked in the direction of the bartender once more. "She really is quite pretty." Standing up he gave me a pat on the back. "You should talk to her, see if she can't help you with whatever got you down."

Before leaving he tipped the contents of his nearly untouched whiskey into my soda.

Damn.

Could I really do it? The answer would have been so simple if it had been anyone else. Dad though? Could I really fuck him over like this?

Damn.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Claire

"Do you understand what I'm telling you now?"

He gave me a squeeze with his arm. "Yeah," he said. "Don't worry. I won't cause trouble."

As much as I wanted to believe him I was still going to keep a close eye on him. A very close one.

It had been a lot less violent than I expected, getting my point across to him. The shit I pulled with Liam had him mad, of course it did, it was the whole point of it after all, but he had calmed down once I told him what had really happened. I had still been horny from it though and after laying down the rules he hadn't been too difficult to persuade into a quickie. This time we remembered to lock the door.

"You can ogle her all you want but fuck me if you mess this up for Sam," I said, listening to his heartbeat. "I can only imagine the shit they're dealing with. They do not need any more complications."

Such an exquisite thing, the heart. So complex and so fragile. Super important but such a single point of weakness. It's a surreal thing to think about, inspiring almost. If that lump of muscle and tissue in your chest ever stopped doing its thing then it would all be over within minutes, maybe even seconds.

I traced my hand over his chest, right above his heart, feeling its steady beat pulsing into my fingers. So fragile, so fascinating. Really, all it would take was a long enough needle. Just a few inches would be enough.

"You surprise me Claire," he said after a minute of silence. "Didn't think you cared about anyone."

What would it feel like, I wonder, those last few seconds.

I let out an amused huff. "That's a grave misconception then," I said. "I care about quite a few people. The only difference is how much. Sam, as it so happens, is pretty high on that list. Even Rose and Liam are on it, only a lot further down."

"And where do I rank on this list of yours?" he asked, his fingers tracing lines on my waist.

*beat* *beat* *beat*

What a question. Did I have an answer? Yes. Would he like it? Hard to say. After all, that list didn't apply to him. There was another one that did though.

"I'm not sure," I said. "You're a special case. Ask me some other time and maybe I'll tell you."

Ten beats of his heart passed in silence.

"I love you though," I said.

His chest rumbled as he chuckled and his muscles rippled as he stretched. "I love you too."

"Do you though?" I asked. "Do you really? Or are you just indulging me so you can continue fucking me?"

Of course I knew that he did. Still interesting to see his reaction to being questioned about it.

He looked down at me. I couldn't see it but I could feel it on the back of my head. "You doubt me?" he asked.

"Not that you like fucking me. I'm quite sure you love that part," I said.

It's so much fun, pretending to be insecure.

"Just say the word and I'll go out and buy a ring. Right here, right now. Do you prefer gold or platinum?"

I grinned into his chest. He couldn't see it. "Words are meaningless."

He moved to sit up and I had to drop the grin if I wanted to continue. Just the slightest of trembles, yes, that would make the insecurity believable. I couldn't believe he was actually buying this. Disappointing in a way. Funny in another.

Those beautiful black eyes of his stared right into me. There was conviction there. Good. It implied honesty, or at the very least a willingness to commit. If it was to me or to some plan in his head didn't matter. Conviction was sexy. About what, that was less important.

Did I break eye contact? Would he believe it or would it be going too far? Anyone but him and I would. No. He would see right through that. A blink, yes, and a small swallow, positively tiny. That would do it.

"Claire," he began, utter sincerity in his voice. Could it be that he was better at this than me? "Do you want to get married?"

Two seconds, that was a good amount of time to not react. Then a smile. Just lips, no teeth.

Shaking my head I said, "No. I don't want to get married." Leaning forward I wrapped my arms around him in a tight hug. "But thanks for offering. And no, I don't doubt you."

He returned the hug, albeit a bit tentatively. A good sign that he hadn't caught on. Heh.

"When do you need to leave?" I asked after ending the hug.

"Need to be there at three," he said and looked at his watch. "I should get ready now though."

"Just as well," I said with a shrug. "Gonna have to fix things with Liam anyway. He probably think he did something wrong, seeing as I practically ran away before."

Easy enough to solve. Sorry babe. I just got... embarrassed. Why? Well... you kinda... sort of... made me... Then look away and pretend to blush. Presto, solved. He'd probably be prouder then a peacock, bless his innocence.

"Won't have anymore business to take care of after this though," he said, moving to stand. I gave him one last squeeze before letting him go.

"You should wear the gray shirt," I said. "The one with the white buttons."

He frowned as he began to dress. "I don't like that shirt."

"I do though," I said, smiling at him. "So you'll wear it."

He shrugged and just said, "Fine. If it makes you happy."

Good boy.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Samuel

She didn't talk to me at all, not for the entire day. Only courteous phrases to not make it stand out. It could hardly be considered real conversation. That she was still angry with me was obvious. To me at least. She did a good job of hiding it from the others but as soon as they weren't looking or not around it was like the temperature dropped several degrees. There was a brief moment where I did manage to get her alone. This would've been my moment to talk to her but as soon as I started saying anything she just up and left.

I knew I had fucked up, yes, but I was starting to worry just how much. It was... troubling, and rough. This was hardly the 'best' I wanted to give her.

But exactly why was she so angry? I had been sort of rough with her in the past and she had loved those times. Sure, I had never pushed her down and held her when she had so obviously telegraphed that she didn't want me to. But that was just it. I knew she had wanted it, that she had needed it. And she had, only I had made that decision without allowing her the chance to do so too.

This warranted anger. Of course it did. I wasn't stupid. This much though?

Maybe it wasn't just the fact that I had basically taken her. No, there was also the little fact of where I had done it, and in what company. More specifically, in front of Claire. Well, technically behind her. Semantics though.

Maybe her anger wasn't so strange then. I mean, it felt a lot like that first day after our 'mistake'. Maybe that was it. She had come to terms with her and me doing all kinds of depraved things but it hadn't happened over night. Being thrust into a situation where she was forced to do it in front of Claire might have reawakened all those feelings. The doubt, the embarrassment, the going against everything she felt was right and proper. Perhaps because I had been the one to put her in that situation all those feelings were directed at me.

It made sense, even reasonable sense.

But how did I fix it if she wouldn't let me talk to her? Or was that presumptuous of me to think that I even could fix it? No, not really. What was presumptuous though was to assume that she would just allow me to do it.

Yes that was it. I would fix it when she was ready, when she would allow me to do it. Until then I would take her punishment.

It didn't mean I had to like it though, which I made obvious to her. If she didn't notice my shitty mood then at least she noticed when I disappeared the moment dinner in the hotel restaurant was over. It wasn't just to send her a message though. I did genuinely feel like shit and not like being around anyone. An early night seemed like a much better idea. Besides, I didn't want anyone else noticing my aforementioned shitty mood. Dad had already noticed something earlier and that was bad enough.

It only took an hour or so of trying to fall asleep when I heard rustling outside the room. I wasn't in the mood for any of Claire's snarky comments so I decided to just feign sleep. A moment later I heard the door opening.

She moved around a bit but was quiet enough. It was certainly not enough to be annoying even though I would have preferred the complete silence.

The yank on my covers was sudden and caught me off guard. Before I had a chance to react the bed shifted as weight was put on it.

"What-" I began but a hand came down on my mouth pretty hard, slapping me into silence.

My initial instinct was to push off whomever was 'attacking' me. I even got so far as to grab the wrist of the offending hand before I caught myself. The body that had made such a sudden appearance on top of mine was very soft and warm.

My eyes had acclimated themselves to the darkness but it still took me a moment to realize who it was. My first thought was that Claire was playing one of her sick jokes on me again, only the tuft of hair very near to my face was very obviously not blond. Despite almost looking black in the darkness there was no doubt in my mind what the color was.

"Mom-" I tried after pulling her hand away. Her response was to hiss at me and push the hand back in place.

What the...?

What she was doing was obvious, yes, but the why of it had me baffled. Her free hand was far from idle, going about the business of trying to rip my underwear off with impressive fervor. I was half a mind about stopping her just to ask why the hell she was there. Wasn't she supposed to be angry with me?

My divided mind was made up the second she got her delicate fingers around me. The few pumps she did felt great but the sharp nails were definitely a concern. A familiar grunt of frustration punctured the mostly silent room.

I wasn't sure if I were supposed to do anything or if this was one of those times where I was just along for the ride. It had happened a few times in the past but never this... energetic. I could find out...

Letting my hands wander down her body I caught her waist. Soft fabric told me that she still had her dress on, the short white one she wore at the dinner. I hadn't been too cautious about staring at it and I was pretty sure she had noticed. I got my answer straight away when she pushed herself away from me a bit. A second later the hand on my mouth was removed but only for the same amount of time it took to rear it back and bring it back to my cheek. Hard.

One slap, two slaps, three slaps.

They stung but weren't that bad. I didn't try to stop her even though I was reasonably sure I would've been able to block the last two. As far as I was concerned I deserved them. It did answer my question about whether I was supposed to have an active role or not quite nicely though. Not, it turned out. Very much not. The hand returned to my mouth a moment after I removed mine from her. Apparently I wasn't allowed to speak either. I could live with that.

Her other hand snaked down between us at the same time as I felt her knees separate and come down on each side of my waist. The pressure on my mouth increased as she used it to push herself up a bit. I could feel my growing erection against the fabric of her dress and I jerked in surprise when one of her sharp nails came into contact with the tip. I didn't think it was deliberate but in her current state I just couldn't know.

I wasn't even fully hard when she grabbed me and began lining herself up. Everything was going so fast that I had a hard time keeping up. She seemed to know exactly what she wanted though.

A long sigh left her lips. I could see them, make them out in the darkness, just slightly parted. So fucking sexy and so fucking delicious. I wanted them, wanted to taste them and devour them. But I couldn't, not if she didn't let me. Her eyes were closed in concentration but relaxed as she began sinking down on me. Underwear, it seemed, was something she hadn't bothered with. It made me wonder, had she worn any at the dinner? Had she planned this?

Such an odd feeling, having my dick buried in her pussy while it was still growing. She could feel it too, no doubt, as she held still for the longest time, eyes closed and just breathing hard. My fingers itched to do something, to grab her and explore, to pull those awesome lips to mine.

Then she slowly began sitting back up, her weight shifting on top of me, pushing me just that little bit deeper. Her hand on my mouth turned until only two fingers remained on my lips and the urge to open my mouth and suck on those digits was strong. I refrained though, sure that it would only earn me another slap.

The fingers on her other hand dug into my chest as she began leaning forward, sliding up on my shaft. Her nails stung but the slight pain mixed in with the incredible feeling of her insides rubbing against me. I tried to suppress a shudder of pleasure but didn't do a very good job of it. She felt it, I could tell, as it transferred to her and traveled along her body.

"Ughnh," she let out in a grunt when she dropped back down, my now fully erect dick slamming into her. I could feel it bump against her insides and there was no question whether she was completely full or not.

What followed was what I would call a very one sided session of raw want and need. The moment I tried to do anything but just lie there she would retaliate with a vengeance. It didn't take long before she had both my wrists held above my head with one hand and three fingers of her other stuck into my mouth, keeping me quiet. Her grip wasn't hard by any stretch and I could've fought her without any issue whatsoever.

But I didn't. I let her take whatever she wanted from me. As much and for as long as she wanted. Right now this was my purpose, nothing else.

And took she did. A lot. Bouncing up and down on me like she was possessed. Not a single word passed her lips but plenty of moans, groans and grunts did. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered how she had managed to get into the room. The only logical explanation was that she had used Claire's key, which meant that she had either stolen it or been given it. I could only imagine how that conversation had gone.

If her speed and intensity was any indication it didn't look like she intended the sex to last very long. I wasn't keeping track of time or anything but it wasn't long — ten minutes at the most — before the telltale signs of an imminent orgasm began showing on her features. Her sounds as well as strength gradually increased the closer she got and still the only thing I could do was lie there, clenching my hands into fists in an effort to not grab her. It was frustrating but she had made her wishes very clear.

This time I intended to listen to them.

As rapidly as her orgasm approached, mine wasn't far behind. I could already feel it, had felt it for some time. The building pressure inside me, the churning deep in my abdomen. If she continued as she were, and she had given no indication that she wouldn't, I would very soon coat her insides with my seed.

Every time, every single time I came in her, I was filled with so much wonder and disbelief. This time was no different. The moment I began shooting deep inside her that same feeling of amazement came over me.

I had just had sex with my mother. My own biological mother. Nay, she had just taken sex from me, taken it from her own son until he was forced to shoot his seed inside her, into the place where he was created.

By the sound of it she was loving ever second of it too, just like I was, loving every drop I deposited near her womb. The writhing and the frantic panting was so familiar but still just as incredible to witness as that very first time in the RV. Our secret, our love. Hidden away and protected.

A long minute of silence passed, unmoving, unfucking.

Heavy breathing from the both of us, mine a little warped because of the fingers still in my mouth. She swallowed hard as the nails on my chest began to withdraw, the pressure easing. I could feel her weight shift ever so slightly in time with her breath.

Then she began to withdraw, her fingers leaving my mouth with a trail of saliva down my chin. A content sigh left her as she, without a word, began to slide off me, a feeling of emptiness filling me as it became more and more obvious that she wasn't go to say anything. Almost as abrupt as she had gotten on me she got off me.

"Mom..." I spoke, my voice soft and slightly pleading. I didn't want her to just go.

No response. I saw her get to her feet and move down the bed, her dark shape unmistakable. She stopped a few feet away and got down into a crouching position. Shuffling reached my ears as she did something.

My so far dormant hand shot out to the side, towards the bedside table. It took me a few seconds to find the light switch. I had to squint my eyes for a moment as the light came on.

"Mom," I repeated, sitting up.

I could see her crouched down next to my suitcase. She was rummaging around it, looking for something. I knew what it was, knew where it was.

Letting out a sigh I said, "To the left. Green bag."

Her only response was to grab the little green bag with toiletries and open it. After a few seconds of looking inside she pulled out a small blister pack of pills. Still without speaking a word she popped one of the blisters before placing the tiny little pellet in her mouth.

She didn't even look at me, not even a glance, as she stood back up and straightened out her dress, pulling the white material back down over her thighs.