The Other Amsterdam Ch. 02

'Well you've had a few drinks,' I observed understandingly, 'so maybe things will be clearer tomorrow on whether or not you will write the book or not.' Beside me I fluffed up the extra pillows and smoothed over the duvet, patting my hand down to invite her to get more comfortable, observing quietly as Julianne turned around, stretched out her bare legs and lied back.

Now she was lying side by side with me again, and I was lying on my side because I didn't want to pitch a tent in front of her when I thought she was actually trying to be so serious.

Quietly surveying the room for a moment, she breathed a deep, drawn out breath, and then exhaled with a sigh. 'What happens after France?' she asked.

'In the story or in real life?' I asked.

'Between me and you,' she specified. Staring off into space as I watched her closely, I wasn't prepared for the moment she turned to face me, her smooth, glowing cheek coming to rest on the fresh white pillows.

'What do you want?' I asked. It really depended on her.

'I want you to have the whole life that's ahead of you. I want to be there to see it.'

'But you also want France to never end,' I intuited.

She nodded. 'And neither do you!'

'It was amazing,' I recalled as she watched dreamily. 'Everything about it was. And I felt like it was just the beginning, not a one-off.' I reached over and kissed her on the tip of her nose, causing her to scrunch up her face into a grin, while I idly fiddled with the knot in her belt. 'It's just a question of-

'Whether it's in France or,' she hinted, carrying my sentence and then leaving me open.

'Or where you last went to think about it,' I hinted further, in regard to what occurred in the otherwise quiet still of the previous night.

'And that wouldn't change our relationship?' she asked.

I thought about it a moment. It turned out to be one long moment. We were only days in from our French experience and things had changed, but as far as I could tell nothing had altered in a negative way. Maybe we hadn't talked as much as we normally might, but I loved and adored my mother as much as ever, if not more. She was no different to me, other than the rising desire I had for her, to further test her waters, her depths, and to love her as intensely as she caused me to feel.

'It'd just make it better, do you think?' I contemplated. 'Whether it's sex or just a little more intimacy, or if there's something else your heart desires, I want for you to have it, mum,' I stressed; 'Anything!'

'Anything?' she asked.

'Name it!' I reassured.

'How about a hug for your mother,' she insisted, beaming with love and pride.

I didn't have to think hard about that, or so I thought, until I was suddenly aware of my raging erection pressing into her hip, causing her to jerk, and to gasp her surprise. A muffled laughed warmed my shoulder as I wrapped my arms around her. She responded in kind, roaming my bare flesh with her warm hands.

'You are eager,' she giggled, scraping her fingernails lightly across my shoulder and placing a kiss there. I was aware also by that point of the feel of her bare flesh warming to mine. Her kimono had fallen loose upon contact, exposing her belly and breast. We were soft flesh upon flesh once again. For so long we remained that way, pressed together and just holding each other, with careful, soothing strokes of soft hands.

But I knew what I wanted and I knew that I was going to at least test the waters, so to speak. Eventually I pulled away to make eye contact with her and there we froze and just gazed a while, wondering what was going to happen next. I moved in to kiss her, tender and fleeting like a butterfly's touch, and again, then lingering suggestively.

'I'd better think on this a little longer,' she said suddenly, rubbing my shoulder soothingly. I breathed a heavy sigh, earning me an apologetic look.

'I'm sorry,' I said earnestly, knowing that I'd pushed it too soon.

'Aren't you scared?' she asked.

I nodded. 'I'm so scared it excites me, so scared that it excites me, and enough to make me want to come running to my mother,' I replied in light of the irony.

'Je suis amoureux,' she whispered, kissed me and left. Me too, I thought.

7

For the first time that week, both sleep and the morning came quickly. I slept like a log and woke up bright and early, at quarter to eight. All I could hear outside was the song of the birds as a dull green-blue set in the cloudless sky.

The first clear thing on my mind as I lay there contemplating life was not the fact that my mother had refused to engage with me the last night. It was that she hadn't read the letter I wrote, otherwise I'd have definitely heard about it.

And then I heard her moan softly from her room across the landing, or had I misheard? Was it a figment of my loudening imagination as I went back to that sultry exchange of touches, glances, and kisses?

Again there was silence and I wondered if maybe Julianne had merely stifled her moans, but as I rolled to my side and pricked up my ears, attuning my senses, I could begin to make out her heavy breathing. And again she moaned so sweetly, and then she said my name...

Again, beneath the covers I began to rise to the occasion. And it seemed that the more aroused I became by the sounds of my mother's self-pleasuring, the louder and more persistent, breathing and moaning.

I rolled onto my back again and pulled away the bedcover, freeing my proud erection from its confines, and wrapped an eager hand around it, beginning to massage my length back and forth. If I couldn't have her then I'd have myself to the song of her own morning glory. And so with my free hand, I gathered the saliva from my tongue, peeled back the foreskin of my throbbing cock and lubricated myself, then continued to masturbate to the rhythm of her moans.

Sometime later I was lost in my own thoughts as I jerked away, so self-absorbed, that I failed to notice that her moans had ceased. The sky beyond my window was considerably brighter by then too. I'd gotten carried away.

'Did I cause that?' I then heard her say from the open door. Startled I ceased in mid-stroke, and looked to her, to see her standing there in all her naked glory.

'Yes,' I said and held my breath.

Silence, for so long, and then, 'please don't stop...'

Slowly I continued, running my fist firmly up and down the long shaft, and then daring to pile on another gob of saliva. The slick sounds seemed to become amplified as I continued to wank myself off in front of my own mother, making a dirty dance of it as I bucked my hips toward the fuckhole my hand provided.

'I just read your letter,' she said, wetting her lips. I looked back to her, both hands now busy. Emotionally, she asked, 'do you really feel so strongly for me?'

I nodded, tried to control my breathing and replied, 'why do you think I want you so much?'

Her fingertips absently went to her lips then, her eyes flickering between mine and the show I was now putting on for her, which was having something of a mesmerising effect on her. Then she shivered, trembled.

'You're cold,' I intuited.

'Yes, a little, are you?' she replied. I nodded. And then came the question I waited to hear...

'Do you want to come to my bed?'

8

In my love letter to my mother, I talked about the upbringing she gave me, teaching me the ways of the world and then introducing me to sexuality - when the time came - in the way that she knew best; through story!

Julianne nor I could ever be told that either of us had developed a latent or active complex, as is often the case with incestuous relationships. She and I had healthy sex lives and relationships, and the healthiest of lives. Curiosity was all part of that. There are two people in this life - those who run away and those who run towards. We shared a common curiosity which led us to "that other Amsterdam", and beyond.

So when we chose to experience the reality of the mother-son incest fantasy and found it to be such a profound, amazing, intimate experience, it only served to bring us closer. It wasn't a case of grooming or abuse. It was consensual and not without contemplation.

I told her, after all this time, that I always found her attractive, and that I always loved her dearly, and that since there seemed no other man for her - often in her own words - that to seize the chance to experience what it truly felt like to be that one and only man was the greatest time of my life. I discovered that not only did I love her so much more, but that she really was much more than a mother all these years.

For that, and beyond that, I loved her more and more, and I began to wonder if we were both headed this way all along, or if we had taken a rare opportunity to discover just how deep a bond really can run between a mother and her adult son.

I was so happy, I declared, since that moment, that my heart could burst. And the intensity of both my love and my attraction grew also, and made me obsess about becoming her lover. I told her that I so vividly daydreamed of making love with her in a bed we could call ours, time and time again, and of knowing that - despite the rules and the boundaries set for those who didn't understand, or couldn't be trusted - that nobody in this world was more qualified than we were to take care of each others' hearts and happiness.

"Maybe you'll write that story and maybe you won't", I concluded, "but maybe you want to because you can't help yourself but also to daydream about us together, knowing that what happened between us will happen again and soon...

"Dear Julianne, my mother, the most beautiful woman I know, and that which I love the most in the whole world; I love you no matter what we do, or where we go in life, and what happened in France happened maybe only to prove how far we are willing to go to experience all of life with each other, and what boundaries we will push back in our true feelings for each other...

"I dream and desire to make love with my mother in her own bed, over and over, and to feel so deeply in love together that nothing else could matter. If she wants that too, then France really was just the beginning!"

10

Julianne relished the taste of my pre-come as she rolled her tongue against the tip of my rigid cock and sucked firmly along the slippery wet shaft, taking me deeper before releasing me and bathing me in her hot saliva. For a blissfully long time she made love to me with her mouth, bringing me to such a heightened state of arousal.

I was so hard it hurt, and yet her cool wet tongue nursed and soothed me, and for so long I watched her small mouth and her petite red lips stretched around my girth as she sucked expertly at the swollen dark pink head.

I was laid in the middle of her bed, my mother on all fours in between my wide open thighs, gently caressing my testicles as she slurped up and down my shaft. And all the while she was eager to keep eye contact with me, letting me know that she was 100% clear on what we were doing.

The time came that I could barely hold back, but we both wanted me to so that this could last. Eventually releasing me from her sweet torture, my mother's naked, vulnerable frame climbed mine and came to rest atop me, where she pulled up the duvet to keep us warm as we kissed and caressed each other with a new passion.

To see her face, eyes closed and drifting, her mouth locked onto mine as we touched and writhed, it was such heaven that I couldn't come down. If I wasn't careful I might become frenzied with excitement and I didn't want that.

Our tongues swirled and danced hungrily as we tasted each other and played with occasional romantic little kisses. We playfully chewed and nibbled at each others' lips with my hands cushioned by her breasts. Then to pull her closer to me I cupped her soft buttocks and hoisted her up and teased and sucked at her nipples, then proceeding to check the weather further south - warm but incredibly wet.

Julianne panted and gasped loudly as I continued my controlled assault on her senses, hungrily kissing my way back up her body and, like a vampire, sucking seductively at her throat and neck. I teased her labia apart then and pushed in easily to the knuckles, holding her still with my free arm around her slender waist.

She groaned and shuddered against me, and began swirling her hips, riding my hand and hinting that she was more than ready for me. With my thumb I teased her stiff clitoris while I beckoned her to me with fingers buried snug. Then I met her again in a slow, seductive kiss.

I was sitting by then with my mother in my lap as we held each other, her wet pussy rutting itself along the underside of my shaft. Her breathing ragged and intensifying, she was grinding herself to intense pleasure against me, eyes just as intensely glowering as they fixated upon mine.

'I never thought we'd go this far,' she struggled to say. 'In my bed, in our home...'

'A lot's happened that wasn't possible once,' I said, guiding her hips back and forth, gradually raising her up.

'Are you going to seed me again, son?' she begged. 'Are you going to seed your mother; slide that big hard cock deep into my kitty and empty yourself into me?' All I could do was nod, both icredibly turned on and terrified at once. 'Come back into to my womb then,' she said trembling in my arms. 'Come back into me!' she said. 'Come in me!' she said.

I hoisted her up by ten inches and aimed myself, Julianne encircling the base of my hot hardness to hold me still. Time itself stood still. All we were aware of in that moment was the look of raw emotion and bliss in each others' eyes as finally, my mother's slick, silken vulva slid invitingly back around my every inch and initiated our incestuous mating dance.

Like that we moved together slowly at first, finding that sweet, shivering synchronicity as she gyrated against my gentle pistoning motions. She pressed her breasts to me, flung her arms around my neck and again initiated me into a kiss, but one of a nature we hadn't yet shared. My mother wasn't just sharing an experience with me now. She was in the act of taking me and of making me hers, of coming undone and letting the sexual being at her core come out of the dark.

Then we were fucking faster, bouncing off each other with raw sexual chemistry as her hungry pussy worked furiously to milk me, to bring me closer.

I lay back down again, sinking into the cool pillows at the head of her bed, and Julianne tore away the duvet, allowing me to see her in full, conjoined with me and working lovingly up and down on my soaked, slippery stiffness. The mixed sensations of cool and hot, from stream to furnace, gripped me from tip to base and back again as she sunk down to the hilt and lifted herself up again, with my hands hoisting her for support.

When she came down to join me, smiling and breathless, I braced her body and rolled with her until I was on top and deeply snug inside her. Julianne wrapped her legs around me, crossing her ankles at the base of my spine, and kept me in close with one kiss after another.

'Things will definitely never be the same again,' she reminded the both of us. 'Nobody can find out.' I plunged into her easily, earning the sweetest sigh as my still breathless mother immediately forgot herself again. For a long time then we simply moved together, soft against hard, smooth against rough, deep and meaningful; and we gazed and kissed and moaned.

Then gradually she began to come again and begged that I come with her, that it was the time to consummate once and for all who and what we had become. 'I want to see us,' she pleaded. 'And I want to see your face!'

Julianne propped herself up on a stack of pillows. I climbed back onto my knees and holstered her legs with my elbows, sliding the burning head of my cock between her glistening labia. Both of us had a perfect view of what was to come. With heated anticipation my mother nodded, eyes wide with arousal and fear. In again I went, with every tick inch from the tip, sliding effortlessly into her boiling depths, and we both groaned aloud as we began to work with and against each others' motions.

'God I love you,' she gushed, looking down and watching me plunge into her birthing canal.

'Me or my cock?' I asked, moving faster as the climactic tidal wave roared nearer.

'Fucking both,' she cried, writhing on the end of me and squeezing her breasts. She began to moan and gasp so sweetly, her voice rising to a crescendo. That alone was enough to take me there, let alone the live action scenic view of my own mother orgasming with her own son's cock fucking her to kingdom come.

'Now, please, son!' she cried out, holding out her hands for mine. I couldn't take anymore. I let her legs loose and came to her, into her arms, and into the erupting, thunderous wave. She braced me tightly with her thighs, wrapping herself around me as I went all the way for the final thrust, and as we cried out to each other, I began to spurt deep into her cervix, to be drank into her womb.

Pulsating bolt after bolt of liquid electricity froze me against her as we convulsed violently into each other - exploding, burning, melting - and I filled her, and filled her again, the seed of her own son, planted once again in her Edenian flesh garden.

For thirty minutes or more we lay together, paralysed, burnt out, unable to move, and held each other close, enjoying the sensual afterplay in the late morning sun.

11

'You never did tell me how you felt about the first time we went to bed together,' I recalled as I languidly slid in and out of her blushing red pussy later that afternoon. She was laid back in the low easy chair down in her study, I was on my knees before her with her feet rested on my chest. 'Remember what you said in Amsterdam, what you thought it'd be like, under the right circumstances?'

'Hmmm,' she moaned deliciously, enjoying the easy, gentle ebb and flow. Mum smiled and nodded. 'I think it was something along the lines of "a profound, beautiful, intimate experience," or something like that.'

'Something like that,' I echoed.

'Well if this doesn't answer your question,' she said, tightening her vaginal muscles around me with a wicked wink, 'then my boy, it changed my life and left me hopelessly in love.'

'Me too,' I smiled and slid home to kiss my maker.