The Sweetest Sin Pt. 05

"Mmmm. Maybe." She smiled mysteriously.

"What's his name? Anyone I know?"

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough."

Just don't count on discovering someone like Jack first time round. You have to fellate a lot of frogs before you find your prince.

Meanwhile, things had been slowly improving between Jack and me. We had missed each other so much - not just the intercourse, but the intimacy, the laughter, the long conversations, the comfortable silences.

It helped that he had come to the realisation that creating a baby, ultimately, was a decision only I could make. It's an obvious thing to say, but many men can't see it. He was ready to wait for as long as it took, and I loved him all the more for it.

Gradually, our bodies had been healing. We could have sought medical advice. But both of us going to Dr Venntner with advanced symptoms of extreme fucking (Coitus maximus) would have been a little suspicious, so we had to wait for nature to take its course.

I was perpetually frustrated, having gotten used to three rounds of sex as my minimum per diem. But it was even worse for him. Because he couldn't relieve himself, he was constantly built up, and because he was built up, he was constantly aroused. His testes were producing sperm that had nowhere to go, and he was in agony.

"You don't understand what it's like," he groaned. "All these years I've been used to cumming four or five times a day. I'm backed up for miles. My balls are killing me."

"There must be something I can do. Or can't you masturbate?" I asked. "Special circumstances: I give you permission."

He grimaced. "Mom, It would be like stripping wallpaper. The skin would peel off in rolls."

It was a cycle of arousal and frustration and testicular torture. He even started sleeping in his own room again, so he didn't have to share my bed with his mind full of thoughts that his body was unable to do anything about.

And so it was that I got to witness one of the great sights of the natural world. Jack flaccid was amazing enough, his penis bobbling up and down like a Slinky and swinging from side to side as he walked around our room naked. Jack erect was awesome.

And now, because he was so built up, with no release, he was erect nearly all the time. And he dripped -- actually dripped. Not a stream, but a steady flow of droplets. It was like watching King Kong in chains or Prometheus bound, seeing Jack's great tool, trickling sperm under pressure, raging and flexing and weeping, unable to perform its natural function of fucking his mother. So powerful, yet so helpless.

I'd never seen this before, a man physically leaking like a faucet, and I wasn't wasting the opportunity. I would watch as his cum slit filled, then overflowed. A drop fell on my tongue, then I waited for the next one. Then the next. It was no substitute for sex, for either of us, but it was a huge turn-on for me. I never expected to repeat the experience - there was no way I would let my poor boy build up like this ever again - so naturally I also filmed it for posterity.

+++

It was Monday. We had been home for two weeks. He wasn't beside me when I woke. I lay there, listening to birdsong while he pottered downstairs. I tentatively explored my vulva, sliding a finger, then two, between my labia. No pain. For the first time since Paris, I had healed enough to make love.

Jack was ready yesterday. He had rushed into my room first thing. "Mom, oh Mom!" like any young boy with something to show his mother.

No preliminaries. I knew he was in agony. I gave a few licks along the underside, then took as much of him in my mouth as I could. He gripped me by the hair in both hands, as though to give me a hard face-fucking. Instead, immediately, he was spurting. And for the first time, I knew what they mean about "ropes". Such an epic cum-dump. I kept swallowing and he kept cumming. Talk about the shot heard round the world.

When eventually he finished, there were tears in his eyes. "Oh God, Mom, I needed that."

One problem solved. But the blowjob had only intensified the nagging throbbing in my pussy, which followed me round the rest of the day.

So thank God I was better. I couldn't have lasted much longer without going mad. And now, I had something important to tell him.

He nudged open the door with his foot and put the breakfast tray on the table. A pot of coffee and a bowl of porridge -- not my special variety, which meant he would be delivering it to me by the traditional route. Good. My cunt was aching -- this time with desire.

I sipped my coffee. "Jack, darling, I'm ready for your teenage cock at last," and my heart fluttered as his face lit up. "Plus I have something to tell you." I reached under his robe to cup his big warm fuzzy balls.

"Well, I have a special announcement myself," he said. "It's about Cassie. I drove her to the doctor yesterday."

"Oh dear, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Mom, I took her there to get an implant."

Implants? With those flawless melons? You cannot be serious. "What are you talking about, implants. Her bosoms are modern wonders of the world. They deserve their own Unesco listing, their own constitutional amendment."

"No -- an implant, Mom."

"They should be carved into Mt Rushmore."

"A contraceptive implant."

The room fell away. His voice seemed to be coming from miles off. My mind froze.

I blasphemed under my breath. That cock-hungry slut. That Jezebel. That dirty, shitty little cock-jockey. Flaunting her body at me, flashing those fingernails, sending me signals, all the while knowing that she would be kicking and moaning under her brother later.

Of course, I thought bitterly, he's just like every other male, trading up to a newer model. How many men does it take to replace a lightbulb?

I saw what he would do with her. He would keep her on contraception for a year or two and then breed her. At her age he had time to fuck a dozen babies into her. We'd make such beautiful children together, he'd told me. Well, Jack and Cassie made a superhumanly gorgeous couple: their offspring would be miniature gods.

My hand went to my belly, where Jack's sperm was doing God's work. I thought of the scrap of life fluttering there. I had left it too late. If only I'd told him when I found out, he wouldn't have turned to Cassie.

I put my cup on the bedside table and averted my face so that he wouldn't see the tears. "I understand, Jack."

And really, I did. She was a beautiful young lady, with a body made to be ridden, and with years worth of eggs to be fertilized. A brood mare for her stallion to mount half a dozen times a day.

I had no right to be bitter. Yes, she was taking away the most precious thing in my life. But what claim did I have on Jack. I had served my purpose until something younger and prettier showed up. If anything, I was the cock-hungry slut. It was her he'd always wanted, I should have realized it on the night of that storm. Jack and I shared half our DNA, which made our attraction so powerful. Jack and Cassie shared half their DNA --- plus they had spent nine months in the womb together. That must make the attraction much, much stronger.

There was nothing I could do. He had been humping his mother for months, so I suppose he considered twincest the natural next step.

But he was the love of my life. I mustn't alienate him. I mustn't show how grief-stricken I was. Losing Jack from my bed was unbearable, but losing him from my life was unthinkable. Even though it would be tough, the idea of them pleasuring each other in my house while I lay crying alone and abandoned in my bed, listening to their love sounds.

My hand went to my throat in panic. Would he put a ring on Cassie? Even worse, would he take mine and give it to his new bride? My heart was breaking. There would, I realized, be no more honeymoons in Paris... not with me, at least.

My world had imploded. I saw myself as I really was. A deluded middle-aged woman, mutton dressed as lamb, lonely and laughable and pathetic. A punchline to the world's saddest joke. My sexy hairdo, my new clothes, my trim body... I'd done it all for him. It was all meaningless now, if he wasn't my lover.

I took a big breath. "You and Cassie, you'll be great together," I quavered, unable to meet his eye. "You have given me more love and joy in a year than any women has a right to expect in a lifetime. I understand why you want to move on. Thank you for being honest and not carrying on behind my back. I want you both to be happy, Jack. I'll support you for as long as you want. You two can have the top floor to yourselves and I'll move into Cassie's room, to give you privacy. Just one thing," I added, trying not to break down completely. "I beg you: let me keep my wedding band."

He knelt on the bed beside me. "Mom, what are you talking about? My God, you do like to jump to conclusions. Jesus, no! You're my queen for all time, my forever fuck-wife." He grabbed my wedding band, pulled me to him and kissed me fiercely. "We're together for life - Mr and Mrs Quentin. If I ever carry on behind your back, it'll be because I'm doing you doggy style. Look, the reason I drove Cassie to the doctor because she's all loved up. She's got a boyfriend and she needs protection."

I brushed the hair out of my eyes and sniffled. "A boyfriend? Yes, I suspected something was happening. She's been acting weird lately. Who is it?"

"Some guy she's known for ages, but it only got serious when we were in Paris."

Yes, that seemed right. She's been a changed person since then. I felt ashamed of accusing my children like that. Jack was the son I trusted completely, the lover who had never given me cause to doubt him for a second. He would make a great father. A surge ran through me. I hugged myself and broke into a grin. Everything is going to be all right! Thank you, God.

I pictured myself on hands and knees, Jack under me again, my massive milk-jugs full to bursting once more after all these years. I would let the pressure build until it became delightfully painful, making him wait for the milk to draw down. I would watch the sticky drops fall on his face, then the dripping would become a slow trickle, and finally, when I could bear it no more, I would invite my grown-up baby to latch on, guzzling the sweet milk from my gigantic mother-udders. And the pain would turn to release, which would turn to the most intense pleasure.

I imagined him ramming into me from behind, his hands on my breasts, squirting milk from my swollen teats in double streams. And later, both of us lying, sated, in a pool of sweat, saliva, man-juice, lady-cum and mom-milk. Jack's favorite fantasies were becoming my favorites.

I had a vision of me, propped up on pillows, Jack lying by my side, expertly fingering my love-muff and quietly feeding from me while our babies slept in the next room.

Like a dairy cow with a hungry bull-calf, I could keep lactating for years. In return for Jack's cock-cream on my porridge, I could offer him fresh milk on his muesli. And this time round, I wasn't going to waste any: every spare drop of Mrs Quentin's production would be expressed and frozen for future use.

I reached for Jack and felt him thicken in my palm.

"So, Mom, what was your news?"

I pulled him to me by his cock (his teen cock). "I am warning you, Jack, I am going to need so much sex over the next few months. You and your tadpole factory will be working overtime, beginning right now. First, you will slide this big babymaker up me, as far as it will go."

"B... Babyma...? Do you mean...?"

I put a finger to his lips. "Hush, my hung young husband. When your balls are on my butt cheeks, we will start to fuck. Slowly at first, then as hard and as rough as we can make it. And at the moment you make me cum - at the moment we're cumming together -- that's when I will tell you what you want to know. There will be a time, very soon, when you have to be gentle with Mommy. But right now, I need to be used. I need to be filled. Ride me, Jack. Fuck me to heaven on your 19-year-old cock."

That's all, Momcumteers! Or is it? This four-part saga has already expanded to five chapters. But I'm sorry to say, there may be another installment...