The Seaside Inn

Suddenly, he stopped thrusting, and slowly pulled out of my pussy. I almost screamed at him, urging him to keep going, a repeat of my shameful actions last time, but I managed to bite my tongue.

He grabbed one side of my body with both hands and lifted, flipping me onto my back. I looked up at him, ski mask still covering his face, and quickly turned my head, my cheeks flushed with shame and arousal.

Even though I turned away, my eyes were drawn down to his cock, standing at attention, slick with my own juices, swinging in the air as he positioned himself between my legs. He reached down and pulled my thighs up, spreading them out around him before he drilled back into me with that perfect dick.

I tilted my head back and groaned again as he entered from this new angle. It let him get even deeper, his cock stimulating my swollen pussy even further. My legs were splayed out in an obscene V-formation, and I opened myself up wide to accept him as far as he could go.

His hips ground into mine, and he fucked me harder and harder, holding my thighs in the air and pounding me into oblivion. My moans got louder and faster, turning into animalistic squeals and grunts as his cock pleasured me in ways I didn't know were possible.

The squishing, slapping sound of him fucking me assaulted my ears. I could smell his sweat, oddly familiar, as he loomed over me. He looked like a burglar in a bad home security commercial with the ski mask covering his face, clothes disheveled and teeth bared as he pumped up and down on top of me.

God, he was going to make me cum. The realization made a spark of anger flare up inside me. I couldn't let him get away with this. I had to do something, anything. A desperate plan entered my mind.

One quick movement was all it would take, and I could tear the ski mask right off his head. I had to time it right, or else he might see it coming and overpower my arm. He had to be at his most vulnerable. If he moved, or changed positions, my window would close.

A horrible filthy thought flashed through my brain. I could feel his thrusts getting stronger, more urgent. My back arched upwards as another rolling wave of bliss rocked through my body. Vulnerable. Can't let him move.

I had to make sure he didn't pull out. I told myself it was for my plan, but deep down I knew that was only half true. I wanted to snatch the mask off and reveal his identity, but I also wanted to feel that perfect cock twitching inside me. Squirting hot cum into my pussy, filling me up in every way he could.

I steeled myself and spoke before I could lose my nerve.

"Ahhh- Cum- Cum inside me," I choked out the words between my moans, my tone quiet and pleading.

As soon as I said it, I knew I was going to cum. There was no stopping it anymore. The only question was if I could hold my orgasm at bay long enough for him to do it first. I swallowed, trying to clear my throat to speak again, to make him do it, to make him give it to me. Oh god, I wanted it so badly-

"Ah- Let me feel your cum! Please, please, cum in me- Ahhhhhh!" I said forcefully, my moans getting louder, more insistent.

He started grunting, deep and angry. He was losing control, pounding me with wild abandon, that perfect cock stimulating every last nerve ending in my pussy. Oh god he's doing it, it's happening-

"Aughhh," he groaned, and pushed one final time, burying himself inside me as deep as he could go. My entire body contracted in bliss, and my mouth hung open when I felt him filling me up. He kept fucking me as he orgasmed, the warm cum lubricating my pussy, pushing it up into my cervix.

"Oh god, yes! Cum in me! Ahhhhhh!" I yelled, my lust taking over. An admission of how far I'd fallen.

I could feel my own orgasm arriving, the pleasure building to a terrible crescendo that was going to crash down on me at any moment. I had to do it now, before I lost control, or lost my nerve, before my body could betray me.

I wrapped my legs around his back, locking my ankles together to hold him tight against my body, then reached up as quick as I could and yanked the mask off in one savage pull, tossing it across the room.

"No!" He yelled, trying to twist away, but it was too late. For a moment all I could see was short, messy brown hair. Then he looked at me, his face full of rage and lust, and the horror of what I saw hit me moments before my orgasm.

It was my son. It was Kyl.

My little boy. It couldn't be real. It couldn't be him. My son! How, why, oh god- How could he do this?! Oh my god! Oh no-

My body tensed. My eyes went wide with shock. The pleasure was still building. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't hold it back-

I was looking straight into my son's face when my orgasm hit, harder than any I'd ever had in my entire life. The bliss rushed through me like a dam bursting, a waterfall in spring, a gushing tightness suffusing my entire being with warmth and primal satisfaction.

I saw stars. I groaned and writhed as the horrible realizations hit me at the same time as the unimaginable pleasure.

It was my own son blackmailing me! Oh my god! What had he done?! He'd taken pictures of me naked! His own mother!

Another wave of bliss rocked through me and I twisted sideways.

Oh my god, he'd touched my breasts! He'd fingered me! He'd licked my pussy!

My eyes rolled back into my head as I spasmed on the bed. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the blanket, hanging on for dear life.

He came on my tits! Spanked my ass. Oh god, he stuck his penis in my mouth! I swallowed my son's cum!

My orgasm kept going, and going, and going in a pounding pulsing beat synchronized to my heart. It felt like the music of heaven, my body floating in an endless paradise. I let out another moan that grew into a guttural yell, a wail of simultaneous pleasure and anguish.

My son fucked me. He fucked me! He was still inside me right now! God, my son's cock! I could still feel him, filling me up, his cum deep inside my vagina, and I'd begged him to do it. I'd begged him! He felt so good, like he was made for me.

My pussy tightened, swelling up, gripping his shaft, milking every last drop of semen from his rigid member. I felt something break deep inside me, a new peak, almost painful in its intensity.

My vision blurred at the edges, soft white spots dotted my view, and I gasped for breath. Suddenly, it started to fade. The world came back into focus. The pleasure receded, slowly draining out of me.

My mouth hung open and my eyes filled with tears as I stared up at my son in shock. Soft relaxing sensations of bliss still lingered in me like a drug, little sparks and tingles across my skin.

We stared at each other, our bodies joined together, the aftermath of our mutual orgasms receding into memory. He pulled out, and the wet squishing sound of his half-hard cock sliding out of me sent a wave of disgust coiling through my stomach. I felt his cum leak out, trickling down towards my ass, and a lump formed in my throat.

"Kyl?! No, no, no," I moaned softly, covering my face with my hands. I hid myself, unwilling to face the truth, and sobbed into my fingers.

"You shouldn't have done that, mom," Kyl said, not bothering to hide his voice. He stared at me, red-faced from exertion, but with barely a hint of shame or remorse.

I heard him zip up his jeans over my quiet crying. I couldn't move, couldn't talk, all I could do was gape in silent horror, peeking out past my hands.

"Don't do anything stupid," he said condescendingly. I heard the doorknob turn, and briefly had a vision of someone walking by and seeing me splayed out naked on the bed through the open door. I looked up, fearful, just in time to see him step out in the night. The door clicked shut behind him.

I felt nauseous. The lump in my throat wouldn't go away, no matter how much I swallowed. Little droplets of his cum trickled out of me with every other sob, but I couldn't muster the strength to do anything about it.

How could I have missed this? I'd raised a complete monster. My own son! He'd- he'd raped me.

How could he do this to me? To us? To our family? And how could I ever live with myself? After what I'd said to him? After what we'd done?

Please don't stop! Cum inside me! Let me feel your cum!

The words echoed in my head, over and over like a lingering nightmare.

I sat up. My stomach churned. I felt saliva fill my mouth, and I rushed to the bathroom, hugging the toilet as I vomited up a thin stream of bile. I heaved again, but nothing else came out. I kneeled next to the toilet on the tile floor, naked, spitting into the porcelain bowl until the taste left my mouth.

I looked down and saw a small wet spot on the floor between my legs. Another knot of disgust stabbed through me when I realized it was more cum. God, he'd filled me up so much, it felt like it would never stop dripping out of me. I clumsily grabbed a handful of toilet paper, cleaned myself up as best I could, and wiped the rest off the floor.

I got to my feet, shaking, and managed to limp over to the sink. I rinsed out my mouth, wincing with revulsion each time I caught a glance of myself in the mirror. The horrible memory of my own words kept replaying in my head, over and over.

Don't stop! Please don't stop! Yes! Yes! Cum! Cum in me!

I clamped my mouth shut, swallowing hard to fight the nausea. I took a deep breath, walked over to my small pile of clothes and started to get dressed. I'd finished hooking up my bra when I looked down and saw my phone light blinking.

Another email.

TOMORROW. THE KITCHEN. 10 AM.

***

I drove home, seriously considering murder for the first time in my life. I pictured stabbing him with a chefs knife, over and over, until he was a bleeding wreck on the kitchen floor. Hitting him in the back of the head with one of my heavy teaching awards. Pushing him down the stairs, his body landing in a crumpled heap next to our front door.

I didn't see his car when I pulled into the driveway. I walked inside, carefully, trying to be as silent as I could.

"Paul? You home?" I called out.

"Yea! You need me to carry something?" I relaxed as I heard him call back from the living room.

I walked over to him.

"No, where's Kyl? I didn't see his car."

"Oh! He sent me a text, said he's staying at a friend's place," Paul said with a small grin. "Wonder if it's a new girlfriend."

My lips pursed into a thin line.

"Let me know if he texts again," I said, walking upstairs.

I sat down on my bed and stared into space.

I had sex with my son. He'd fucked me. My own son had fucked me.

God, what could I do? I had to do something. I paced up and down my bedroom room like a caged animal. It was Paul's bedroom too, but at this point I thought if it as mine, given how often we slept in the same bed.

I had to leave. I couldn't see Kyl again. Not after what happened. Except, I'd be giving up everything if he decided to retaliate. My job was one of the only things in the world that made me happy. I loved teaching, researching, I even had fun playing the stupid political games with administration, even though I complained about it constantly. It was the main reason why I hadn't ignored the blackmail from the start.

Now, I wasn't sure. The calculus had changed. Before, there was a chance I could make it all go away, catch the blackmailer, delete the photos, even if it was a longshot. This would never go away. If I turned him in, my son would go to jail, and the whole world would know what he'd done to me. There was no way I could let that happen. I could only run, or confront him and convince him to stop.

A terrifying thought entered my head. That maybe- Maybe I could convince him. I was his mother. I still had some power here. I could lie to Paul, say I saw him doing drugs on campus. Kick him out the house. Disown him. I had options now.

He probably didn't want anyone to know about this either. We were in a classic state of mutually assured destruction. I let out a quiet scoff of amusement. Even this awful situation came back to economics and game theory. I could never escape it.

I realized I'd calmed down enough that the murderous thoughts I'd had before were off the table. I couldn't do that. No matter what he did, I didn't have it in me. He was still my son.

I also suddenly realized how exhausted I felt. The safety of being in my bedroom made the adrenaline wear off, and my body started trembling like I'd just finished a grueling workout. I curled up on the bed and passed out in my clothes.

***

It was morning when I woke, groggy and exhausted from the stress of the previous night. My blood ran cold when I saw the clock. It was already 9:30. I didn't have classes today, so I hadn't set my alarm. Oh god, I needed more time. I panicked and reverted to going through my usual morning routine, brushing my teeth, changing into fresh clothes.

I saw my suitcases deep in the closet as I pulled out a clean professional dress. I couldn't run. Maybe if I hadn't passed out like that, if I had more time to prepare, but now I couldn't even pack in time. It was no use now. I ran downstairs. The clock was already at 9:55. He'd be here any minute. My stomach knotted and twisted. I had to try and talk to him, convince him to stop all this.

I stood on the far side of the granite-topped island in the middle of the kitchen, away from the front door. I heard a car pull into the driveway. Paul was already gone and wouldn't be back until the late afternoon. I was alone.

The front door opened. Kyl appeared in the entryway and froze. We locked eyes. I looked at him with a new light, new understanding. He was wearing his usual plain T-shirt and jeans. All my ideas of what I might say emptied out of my head. I heard my heart pounding in my chest. I finally mustered up the courage and broke the silence.

"Why?" I said, my voice hoarse and cracked.

He shot me an incredulous look.

"Because you cheated? You lied? And I couldn't let you get away with it? Dad might have been totally oblivious, but I'm not stupid. I couldn't stand it, and when I came home early from that camping trip and saw you fucking that guy, I knew I had to do something," he stepped forward, hurling the accusations.

"You raped me," I hissed at him, the anger taking over.

"I thought you would confess," he shrugged, "or stop showing up. Either way it was a win. You confess, and take your punishment, or I get to do something I'd fantasized about for years. Speaking of confessions, you were my first fantasy, you know? My first time masturbating, I thought of you. I didn't understand how fucked up it was until way later, after I'd already done it a hundred times. You're so fucking hot though, how else could I make it real? How else could I have you, except like this."

I gripped the countertop, my eyes filling with tears as he ranted at me. I forced myself to look up at his face, but seeing him instantly brought me back to the previous night. The horrifying moment of realization that my son was inside me, and then, worse, the orgasm. The shuddering. The moaning. The thundering crash of overwhelming bliss.

"You raped me," I repeated, trying to forget. I couldn't forget. It kept repeating in my head, over and over. The image of his angry red face looming over me as he shot his cum inside my pussy filled my mind.

"You got off on it," he said coldly, stalking forward like a predatory animal, "I didn't need to hear you beg me to cum inside you to notice it, you know? You were practically fucking moaning every time I barked an order! You could have stopped it any time you wanted, but you didn't want it to stop did you? You were so fucking thirsty for it, you kept coming back for more!"

I flinched back with embarrassment, and felt a familiar horrifying tightness between my legs. I couldn't look at him without feeling it. Without remembering how perfect he felt inside me. He stepped forward, encroaching on my space, and I took a halting step backwards.

"So you know what mom? Here's another order for you. Strip!"

He circled around the counter towards me as he spoke. My eyes went wide with fear, and my mouth gaped at his insane demand.

"No," I shook my head, backing away slowly. "You can't be serious. You can't. I'm your god damn mother!"

I tried to look away, but my eyes were drawn back to his face. Every time, the memories flooded back. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears, turning into the dull slapping sounds of his hips against my bare upturned thighs.

"We both know you want it. You wouldn't be standing here if you didn't. So, strip!"

I stood there, frozen, trembling. My face contorted in pain, rage, and sadness. At the same time, my thighs tensed and pushed together with a spark of arousal that was impossible to ignore. It spread through my abdomen like a creeping vine.

He took another step forward, and I backed up again, bumping into the countertop next to the stove. I looked behind me, surprised at the sudden contact at my lower back. He'd kept pace with me, boxing me into the corner of the kitchen, only stopping when he'd gotten uncomfortably close. He loomed over me, less than a foot away. I could smell him, his familiar masculine sweat, young and crisp and full of hormones. I couldn't let this happen. I couldn't-

"I said strip, you fucking slut," he growled, low and dangerous, and I let out a whimper that turned into a gasp. My pussy swelled and I felt hot wetness filling my underwear.

My hands reached up, halting and numb, shocked into action by his order. My heart pounded in my chest. I felt like I was watching myself, like I wasn't even in control of my own body. My fingers undid the top button of my blouse. Another button. Another. Oh god, what was I doing? What was I doing?

I slowly pulled it off completely and a small choked sob escaped my lips. Kyl stared at me, hungry with lust while I fumbled with my bra. I heard the soft click of the hooks coming undone.

My nipples jutted out towards him when I peeled off the cups and dropped the bra on the floor. My breath was ragged and uneven. I looked down at my feet, past my bare chest, and unbuttoned my capri pants. I wiggled my hips, pulling them off, and they fell the floor. I kicked off my shoes and stepped out of the pile of clothes.

I swallowed, still staring at the floor, hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my underwear and bent forward, peeling them off, stepping my slender legs out one at a time. Exposing my body to my own child.

I stood up straight, wearing nothing but a pair of short socks. I looked at his face, and last night's orgasm echoed in my mind once again. My vagina filled my entire awareness. Wet. Swollen. Aching.

"Touch yourself," he said with quiet confidence. I couldn't keep my eyes off him. His gaze ran up and down my naked body with lust. He watched my hand slowly wander between my legs, and I let out another gasp when my fingers made contact with my pussy lips.

My breathing became shallow, small inhales with each slow circle around my clitoris. I stared at him, my eyes wide, my body trembling and tensing as he watched his mother masturbate. I settled into a rhythm, relaxing, suppressing the voices in my head screaming at me to stop. My fingers pressed and flicked, and a hard sharp spike of bliss made me grunt and close my eyes.

When I opened them, Kyl was shirtless. His chest and shoulders were broad and thick with muscle. Sparse dark brown hairs dotted the center of his torso, trailing down to his stomach. I looked at him with new eyes, taking in the powerful, handsome young man he'd become.