The Twisting, Winding Road

As we approached our table, I pulled mother's chair out for her and sat down with my back to the door. Slowly shaking my head, I said "that was too close. What are the chances that we would see Mr. and Mrs. Daniels?" Then I heard the door of the diner open and saw mother's wide-open eyes and the terror in her face. Looking over my shoulder, I spotted him: IT WAS BROTHER DANIELS!!!! Scanning the diner, he initially looked passed us but then settled his gaze in our direction. As he began to walk toward our table with his wife in tow, I glanced at mother whose face had drained of all blood. As he approached, his face was flushed, and anger filled his eyes. "Paul," he began, "Anne. Please excuse my abruptness, but what I just witnessed is unbelievable, the sin that is occurring in this world. AND IN PUBLIC TOO!! This is something that I must inform Reverend Morton about. The entire congregation should be informed." Terrified, mother and I glanced at each other. "Do you know what I just saw in the movie theatre next door?" Both of us just shook our heads silently.

"There was a couple and they... I can't say out loud what they were doing, but it was disgusting. AND IN PUBLIC TOO!!, "he repeated. "Why that movie theatre would allow such activity... our congregation should be warned to stay away. I would advise both of you to be wary. Those perverts ran away from the theatre before I could get a good look at them. I thought I saw them come into here, but I don't see them. Those people should be arrested." Mother and I looked at each other again and simultaneously began to breathe again. "By the way, what brings you two to Kansas City?"

"I ju.. ju.. just wanted to treat mother to a night out," I stammered.

He continued, "well, don't go next door. I am sure the police have been called, but I would avoid the movies for tonight." I thanked him for his advice and invited he and his wife to join us. "No, I don't want to interrupt you two on your 'date'."

"Robert, stop teasing Paul. I think it is nice that he is taking his mother out," said Mrs. Daniels. "By the way, Anne, your lipstick is a little smeared." Mrs. Daniels gestured to her own lips with her finger. Sure enough, I distinctly saw the outline on her lips where my cock had traversed in and out.

"Oops," mother said covering her mouth with her hand again, "I guess I need to go to the powder room." Mother and Mrs. Daniels excused themselves, leaving me with Brother Daniels.

"Paul, I would like a moment with you. You know that my car dealership backs up to your mother's house. If you mother is ever interested in selling her home, I would be interested in buying it." I thanked him for his interest. "I would pay really good money, Paul. Just keep that in mind." I said that I would. Mother and Mrs. Daniels appeared just then, and Mr. and Mrs. Daniels said goodbye.

As they departed, I heard him tell Mrs. Daniels, "I could have sworn that couple came into this restaurant."

We sat down, looked at each other with solemn faces, and waited for Mr. and Mrs. Daniels exit the front door. For about 20 seconds, we sat in deathly silence. Then, we both erupted with laughter. As I leaned forward with my hands clasped on the table, I saw mother shaking her head. "That was close." Then, with a mischievous grin and a sparkle in her eye, she said, "when can we do that again?"

"Again" was the next day. As with every Sunday, I was sitting on the front row watching with admiration the woman that I loved play for the congregation. After the hymnals were sung, Reverend Morton was deep into his sermon when I noticed mother motion to me. She stood up and gestured for me to follow her, and she walked to a door to the far-right side of the chapel, which lead to several other rooms behind the pulpit. Every eye was on us as I stood and followed mother. Closing the door behind me, mother turned and asked, "can you do for me what I did for you last night in the theatre?" I did not reply. Rather, I simply took mother by the hand and led her down the hallway to a room that served as the closet for choir robes.

Laying her down on her back on a padded bench, I lifted her skirt and began to peel away her panties from the top of her garter belt. Over her legs and then her shoes, I placed her panties in my coat pocket and positioned my face between her legs. Looking directly into the soft folds of her pussy, I could see her clitoris already protruding from her labia. I wasn't sure of what I was supposed to do, but I knew by then that rubbing her clitoris would cause her to cum. So, I began to slowly lick around her clit. She placed her hand on my head and urged me forward. Guiding me as I had guided her the night before, she caressed my neck and head as I continued to lick her pussy. Sticking my tongue deep inside her hole, she grabbed my head with both of her hands. I continued to circle her clit with my tongue over and over.

I could feel her breathing rising and rising. Finally, she arched her back, squeezed my head with her thighs, let out of lusty moan which she stifled with her right hand. My own lust had risen to the point that I had to have mother right then. I quickly pulled down my trousers, positioned my cock at her entrance, and began to push my cock in as far as I could go. The sensation was incredible, and I rhythmically continued to push and pull my cock into mother. She responded likewise by gripping my back with both of her legs and pulling me forward. I began to passionately kiss mother, intermingling her juices inside her mouth. Again, I felt our orgasms rising out of control until we came within seconds of each other. We lay there for just a moment or two before we came to our senses and redressed ourselves. Before entering the service again, mother asked me to grab a set of music sheets from a high shelve, which I carried out into the chapel and placed on her piano. She sat down, and I returned to my usual seat on the front row.

At the conclusion of the service, Reverend Morton asked mother where we had gone, and she had forgotten that the concluding music arrangement was in a box on a high shelf and that it took a while for us to find it. The good reverend accepted the explanation at face value and nothing else was said.

Night and day, we continued an all-out assault on the taboo of incest. We tried every position that could come to mind. Our life was a combination of teenage trysts, honeymoon romance, and unbridled lust. We sought out every reasonable venue and sexual act. Although neither of us mentioned it, we both knew that we were playing a biological roulette game. And with every game of chance, eventually you lose to the house.

About six months after the tub incident, mother said that she needed to drive to Kansas City on an errand for the church. I offered to drive her, but she refused saying that I needed to go to work. Later that afternoon after work, I walked into the house to find mother crying on the sofa. I kneeled in front of her and asked what was wrong. "I went to a doctor in Kansas City today. I'm... pregnant." The news took my breath away. "You're pregnant?" I asked. Yes, she replied. "And I don't know what to do. I can't... I won't have an abortion. How am I going to explain this to our family and friends? I am so scared." She buried her face in her hands. Her tears tore through me like a scythe.

Her news was unsettling, but I knew what I wanted to do. For several weeks, fragments of unconnected ideas had whirled through my head. Separately, they seemed random thoughts. Now, mother's news had become the adhesive that bound these random thoughts into a cohesive plan. Placing my hand under her chin, I gently lifted her face to meet mine. "There is only one solution. I love you with all my heart. You are the only woman I will ever want. Marry me."

She shook her head. "Paul, be reasonable. You are my son. I am your mother. Even if we wanted to, a mother and son cannot marry. It's a crime. It's a sin." She shook her head again. "It's impossible."

Looking directly into her eyes, I said, "If we could, would you marry me?"

"Paul, you are the only person that I will ever love, but we cannot marry."

"But if we could, will you marry me?" I asked again.

With tears streaming down her face and with a trembling voice, she said, "I would."

"It's settled then. Here is what we are going to do." For the next several minutes, I outlined the details of a plan that had formulated in my mind. Listening intently, she stared down at the floor after I finished. For several agonizing seconds, I waited until she finally looked up into my eyes and said, "it's a perfect plan. Let's do it."

The next day, I paid a visit to Brother Daniels at his dealership. He had mentioned that he wanted to purchase mother's house if she ever wanted to sell. He had mentioned to sum of $10,000, which was lot of money for that house in the early sixties. But once I mentioned why we were selling, he doubled it to $20,000. He said that it was in gratitude for all of mother's work with the church over the years.

That same morning mother informed Reverend Morton that we were moving to Long Beach, California where a distant relative had offered to employ both of us at his shipping company. He thanked mother and asked if she would keep in touch with the congregation. Definitely, she responded.

Two weeks later, with our car hooked to a small trailer containing what little furniture we had, we said goodbye at a breakfast in our honor at the church. There were hugs and tears, goodbyes and farewells. As we walked to the car, Reverend Morton pressed an envelope into mother's hand. "You were never paid enough for all that you have done over the years. The congregation got together and... well, here is $2,000 for you. We all wish you well." The assembled crowd began to clap and cheer, which led mother and I to begin to cry. We thanked them all, got into our car, and drove away.

Just past the town limits, mother asked that I pull over. After I stopped, she turned to face me. From mother's expression, I recognized that mother's stern demeanor had returned.

"For our plan to work, we can no longer be mother and son. You are no longer Paul Thornton, my son. You are Paul Thorton, my future husband. And I am not your mother Anne Thorton. I am Anne Jones (her maiden name), your future wife. All the memories we have about this town and our time here are memories for us to share only between the two of us, and then only if necessary. Is that clear?"

I nodded. "Crystal clear, Anne. Let's go and get married." And with that we started a new life.

Two days later we were in Reno, Nevada. I asked around about anyone that would perform a marriage ceremony without many questions. A little chapel just outside of the city that was run by a sweet old couple who knew not to ask questions. I presented my driver's license and Anne provided her birth certificate that showed that she was Anne Elizabeth Jones. Her youthful appearance pushed aside the eighteen-year difference in our age. Ten minutes later, we were Mr. and Mrs. Paul Gregory Thornton. We had transformed ourselves from mother and son to husband and wife. In the days prior to the internet and computers, it was much easier to begin a new life.

The first part of our plan was complete. Now came phase two. Driving to the west coast, we stopped in Long Beach at a local store to complete a postcard addressed to Reverend Morton. A few lines indicated that we had arrived safely and that we were looking for a place to stay. We thanked the congregation again and wished everyone well. A second postcard was likewise completed stating that we had both gotten jobs at the shipping company as promised and would stay in touch. No return address was given except Long Beach, Cal. We asked the clerk at the store to immediately mail the first one and the second one a week from that day. He agreed and we continued our journey.

Three days later, we arrived in Seattle. Using the money from the sale of our home, Anne and I bought a similar, modest frame home. Within three days and with some luck, I was able to get a starting position within the aerospace industry as an apprentice. Within a span of a few weeks, Anne and I were making double what we had in Kansas.

As Anne's pregnancy developed, more unexpected news: she was carrying twins. The days and weeks went by until she went into labor. Waiting anxiously outside the delivery room, I was relieved to learn that both Anne and the twins were doing well. After only a day, Anne and the twins were released, and we went home. Both children had no health problems, but Anne and I were not going to take any chances. Anne had her tubes tied to assure that the roulette wheel would stop.

Like any other proud parents, we watched with admiration as our children grew. Robin the girl, was a splitting image of Anne but with my personality, while little Gregory was my clone with Anne's personality. They both excelled in school and athletics, and we couldn't have had a happier family.

Robin eventually became a doctor specializing in genetics, and Greg became successful stockbroker. My own career continued to flourish, and I moved into management of the company eventually rising to vice-president. Eventually, I would retire a wealthy man. We made many friends and even joined a local church, where Anne became the church pianist. Nevertheless, we were always careful not to reveal much about our previous life. Anne's youthful appearance masked our age difference from our friends and acquaintances. Any inquiry from our friends about our past was met with us joking that we had been part of a traveling circus: I was the bearded lady, and she was the strong man (or was it the other way around, as we stared skyward with a hand to our chin for effect). In any event, we kept our friends far from our past lives.

As for Anne and me, we led a very happy life. We were like any other married couple, with ups and downs, but always happy in the long run. We never lost the desire for sexual adventure and would often play various roles with one another. We continued to frequent movie theatres, with her once riding me on my lap to a climax during "The Way We Were." At other times, she would be a high-priced hooker at a hotel bar that I would pick up after several unsuccessful attempts by other patrons. We would go to a corner booth where she would suck me until I was hard. I would then raise her dress to reveal her ever present garter belt and hose (which she never stopped wearing). Hoisting her onto my lap, I would take her just out of sight of the patrons of the bar. Or another time where she straddled me in the rear of a crowded public bus. We even fucked on a public beach in Hawaii while other bathers were just over a small dune from us. And as sacrilegious as it was, we often made love in adjoining hallways during church service. We sought any locale that would risk being viewed by other people.

But days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into years. Time just slips us by. And so does life.

At age 62, Anne was diagnosed with an aggressive form of ovarian cancer. From the date of the initial diagnosis, she lived only six months. They tried to remove her cancer through surgery and chemo but was unsuccessful. I watched her quickly succumb, and I watched helplessly from the side of her hospital bed.

On the last day, we were alone in her hospital room, and we began to recount in detail the events of our lives together, including my childhood. It was clear that she had missed being a mother to me. We had not spoken about those memories since the day we drove away from that small town. We did a lot of "remember when" that day, including our sexual escapades in the theatre and the closet of the church. She then asked that I call her "mother", which I readily complied. Over and over, we reminisced about our time together with me addressing her as mother. Eventually, she looked into my eyes and asked, "was I a good mother?" Absolutely, I replied. "I could not have asked for a better mother or wife. You made my life complete."

"Do you think that God is punishing me now?" she asked. "I sinned against the church. I violated the sanctity of His chapel. Is He punishing me now?" I shook my head. "No, my love. He is just calling you home. Soon, we will be together again." She nodded, smiled, closed her eyes, and quietly slipped away moments later.

Several years have passed since Anne's death, and I have remained faithful to her. I could not possible see how anyone could replace her in my heart. I remain close to my children and their children as well.

Several years ago, I was in my upstairs study looking out over the Puget Sound when I heard my daughter call out for me from downstairs. "Upstairs, Robin" I called. Shortly, she entered my study, and hugged me hello.

"What brings you out here today? Aren't you supposed to be at work?", I asked.

"Well, that's why I am here. I am here because of something that I recently discovered at work, something that I needed to discuss with you face to face. As you know, I have been working with a new technology called DNA. It is a very useful science and can be used to identify people... and their relatives." She paused and looked at me without expression. I tried to not react to her last phrase, but I felt the heat envelope my face.

"Remember when you volunteered to give me a sample of your DNA to help me with my research?" I nodded slightly.

"After mother died, I was anxious that I might be predisposed to that type of cancer. I ran a DNA analysis on some tissue samples of mother that the hospital retained because of the aggressive nature of the cancer. I also compared it with yours because of some peculiar DNA markers that I noticed." A curious look came over her face. "What I found is interesting." She paused. "You and mother are closely related. Either you are brother and sister or...." She paused again.

I took a deep breath. "Or... mother and son?", I quietly interjected. We stared at one another for what seemed eternity. Finally, I turned and looked out of the window into the Sound.

"Please, don't judge us harshly. What happened was... is hard to explain. No matter what I tell you, it will not make sense to you. Just know that we loved one another, and that you are a product of that love. Turning back toward my daughter, I asked, "does your brother know?" He had inherited the piety that his mother had held so long ago, and I did not know how he would react.

"No, dad. Only you and I will ever know. I always knew that you and mother had a deep love for one another. Whatever happened, I would never condemn you for that." Hesitating for a moment, she continued. "Just one other question: would you do the same again?"

Turning back to the window, I quietly stated, "without question."