Time + Magic + Love = Mom

Most of Craig's Time Machine was gone...a spherical area of maybe ten feet in diameter...just empty space ending in a partly collapsed pile of titanium tubing and rubble. I studied it silently for long minutes, wondering if Crazy Craig had successfully made his trip back in time or if he had simply annihilated himself and a great portion of his machine. I felt in my heart with an absolute certainty that I would never know.

Pocketing my money, I walked back to town in an early morning misty rain, feeling as if my world had ended. In my little pest infested room, I surveyed my surroundings and knew that I did not belong here anymore. I packed up a backpack with what little I cared to take with me and then leaving my apartment keys lying on the bed, I closed the door behind me and hiked down to the bus station. It was time to go home.

Riding the Gray Hound home took most of two days, what with all the layovers and waits for connections. It gave me time to think about what happened and to wonder about my future. My heart ached for what had been lost and in the few fitful bouts of sleep I managed to catch during my ride, I was both blessed and cursed with images of a life that might have been -- living the last twenty years with Mom as husband and wife, raising a family, although to think about being my own father, made my head hurt. I was plagued by images of more children...dark headed little boys and girls that Mom and I would never have.

I sat for hours watching America pass by, aching for the pain I had caused Mom, loving her and leaving her in one breathtaking moment, seeing first hand the passion her younger self had had for my father...for me, and finally understanding how that part of her life had gone essentially unfulfilled all these years. Then for the first time since this craziness had begun, the implications of it being incest...at least, kind of -- sort of, began to surface.

I didn't know if Mom knew or how she would feel about it. All these years, I'd never seen an inkling of anything but motherly feelings or emotions from my mom. I wasn't sure how I could even bring it up with her without her thinking that I was nuts and then what if what Craig and I had done was beyond the pale of reality...what if the whole thing had been a massive delusion on my part. The only evidence I had of my entire magical trip was the hellacious bruise on my cheek and that could have come at anytime during the "experiment."

The bus trip seemed to go on forever and even when it was finished, I still had thirty miles to hitchhike into the mountains of East Tennessee. Still, I was lucky as I caught rides that had me in a couple of hours walking up the mile long gravel road that ended in a hollow where our house and Mom's herb business was nestled. I was scared and nervous at my reception. If I confessed the truth of what happened to Mom, would she understand or would she feel violated and betrayed? I couldn't resolve it in my head -- the entangling complications and paradoxes of our relationship becoming entwined with the deeper complexities that time travel represented.

There was the low rumble of far off thunder as I trudged up long the gravel road. A songbird was making a special effort in the trees above me. Finally, I topped the last hill and saw the house I had grown up in down below, looking peaceful. It was a modified craftsman house, two stories tall with a large, wraparound porch. A battered pickup truck sat in the driveway -- Mom's old Ford truck that we'd traveled to Tennessee in fifteen years ago.

On the bricks at the bottom of the steps, napped my dog, an aged beagle named Mushroom, or Mush for short. As I descended the last sloping hill, maybe a hundred yards out or so, he picked up my scent and raised his head and gave one, short, baleful howl before putting his head back down. I adjusted my backpack strap on my shoulder and continued on down. At least now it wouldn't be a total surprise, Mush being Mom's early warning system.

A moment later, Mom stepped out of the front door. Even at seventy-five yards or so, she made my heart leap and I knew that whatever I had felt three days ago or nearly nineteen years ago, nothing had changed. I could feel my breath begin to increase and a warmth flow through my body, the end result being a hardening of my cock in my blue jeans.

It was still my Mom, as lovely as she'd been at twenty-two. Her dark mahogany hair with little hints of gray was unbraided today and fell across her shoulders and down her back to brush against her plump butt. Yes, in her face maybe there was a few lines here and there...a few added pounds and below her peasant blouse with one shoulder exposed, I imagined her breasts were a little larger and hung a little lower, but it all only enhanced her beauty.

Mom watched me approach, a confused smile on her face as she recognized me...a smile that slowly faded as I got closer. Her eyes squinted as she studied me and she slowly began to back up, withdrawing from the top step of the porch to stand with her back against the screen door by the time I had climbed up the porch steps. We stared at each other, a odd, almost frightened smile barely curving her lips. Thunder rumbled again in the distance, a little louder and a little closer. A storm was about to break and the air held tension and power in it.

"John," Mom said softly, her eyes locked on my face.

"Mom," I replied, not knowing what else to say.

Mom took a tentative step towards me...her soft, stone-washed jeans making a whispery sound as she came closer to me. In bare feet, she was almost silent in her movement. We stood bare inches apart, her breasts jutting out in her blouse almost touching me. She reached out and stroked my face, taking care as she slowly ran her thumb across my bruise.

"Oh, John," Mom breathed. "You finally came back to me." Tears began to run down my mother's face. "What took you so long?"

Again, I didn't have a clue as to what to say to her...or how to explain it all and I never got past, "Mom...I..."

"Your poor cheek...it looks like it just happened yesterday, John."

I nodded as I stepped closer, placing my hands on Mom's plump waist. In a trembling voice, I replied, "For me...it was practically yesterday, Mom." I was crying now too -- feeling Mom's pain at all the years of not knowing...feeling absolutely awful that I had spent the best part of the last three days without her and absolutely horrified at the thought of not having her in my arms for the last twenty years.

Mom bit her lip and nodded and said haltingly, "But you've come back to me...after all this time, you're back to stay?"

I managed to gasp, "Forever," and then we jumped into each other's arms, Mom's lips pressing against mine, her tongue sliding into my mouth, instantly familiar and absolutely right as I held her tight too me, lifting her off the ground as we kissed, relishing the feel of her lush body pressing into mine, her left leg curling around my leg, hugging me fiercely as our tongues renewed their loving relationship.

Things became a bit of a blur as we tugged and pulled at each other's clothes. We parted lips just long enough to yank each other's shirts over our heads, Mom's fingers clawing at my chest while I cupped and squeezed her breasts which were larger than I remembered and sagged more, but which were beautiful in their shape and heft -- the pendulous, sloping breasts of an Earth-mother goddess. I felt her nipples, thick and round, swell between my fingers, her pulse evident against my palms.

Kissing and caressing, we somehow danced our way into the house, stumbling into the screen door along the way and tearing off the upper hinge so it hung precariously, something I noticed absently as I kissed Mom and steered her towards the stairs that led upstairs to her bed. Before we reached the stairs, we'd both shucked jeans and I discovered to my delight that Mom was going commando and that she still had that marvelously hairy bush, still black and wild, still feeling so soft and inviting as I palmed her pussy, feeling the wetness and the heat spreading between her legs.

Then we were stumbling on the stair steps and the bed was forgotten as Mom sat down on the wooden steps and leaned back and spread her legs, her hand wrapped around my cock as she drew me to her and said, "John, I've missed you for so long. Take me, lover...take your Momma Chloe!" And then I was in her and what had been just a few days for me and nearly two decades for her were swept away in the span of a couple of heartbeats as I sank into her hot, slick flesh, coming home forever to my mother...coming home to where I belonged.

My head spun with desire and delight as Mom and I made love, hungrily hunching into each other, savoring each sweet moment my cock was buried deep inside her cunt, relishing every bit of pleasure that was her sopping wet and clasping flesh wrapped around my throbbing erection. Our ravenous kisses were punctuated by Mom's moans and cries each time I broke the kiss to duck my head and wrap my lips around one of her immense and swollen nipples. Mom's legs came up, full and long, to wrap around my hips, her feet crossing as she would constrict her strong thighs and urge me deeper inside her.

We were man and woman, mother and child, soul mates -- all combining to create a higher level of love making, each aspect enriching our pleasure and our love for each other. If anything, our lovemaking now was made greater than it had been at the music festival by the complete and total understanding of each other...the simple acknowledgment that we were mother and son and what our nineteen years together contributed to making our intimacy greater than before.

Mom's cries echoed through our house, filling the absences of all these years alone with a love nearly indescribable. Mom's orgasm swept over her and she clawed my back as she screamed, "YESSSSS! FUCK ME, JOHN! FUCK ME, BABYYYY! CUM IN ME, JOHN, CUM IN ME, CUMMMM IN MOMMA CHLOE, CUMMMMM HOME TO MOMMA!" while she bucked and squirmed against my thrusting cock.

Mom felt so good, so right and my own climax raced to join hers and as I cried out, "I LOVE YOU, MOM!" I sank deep into my mother's pussy, my pubic hair grinding against her hairy crotch and began shooting my hot seed into her womb -- thick jets of scalding semen that seemed to rekindle her orgasm.

"OHHHH, YESSSSS!" Mom sobbed as she wrapped her arms and legs around me tight, hanging on for dear life itself as we both stiffened and shook with ecstatic delight, keeping my cock buried deep inside her as I filled her cunt with wad after wad of thick sperm.

I remember us kissing then for what seemed an eternity. I don't remember us somehow getting to our feet and making it to Mom's bed. Mom claimed later that I carried her to bed like a groom carries his bride. It all seemed a warm and pleasurable dream that I wound up waking up from under the covers in my mother's bed -- finding her watching me sleep, her long dark hair spread out on the pillows, most of her breasts above the blankets, slowly rising and falling majestically. I could hear songbirds outside the window in the trees and there was the gentle noise of a light rain on the tin roof of our house.

I didn't say anything for a long time, just smiling at Mom who had a radiant smile on her face...one I had seen at Woodstock, but not ever in all the years I was growing up. There wasn't a need to speak -- her smile and mine conveyed almost everything we needed to say...that we each loved the other and that all was right between us.

"How long have you known, Mom?" I finally said, breaking the silence.

Mom snuggled up closer to me, her lips nuzzling mine as she took her time in answering. Finally, "I'm not sure, baby. Part of me wants to say that I've known since the first time I held you in my arms after your birth and saw you looking at me. I looked into your eyes and knew that they were your's...my lover's, I mean." Mom pursed her lips and then giggled. "This time travel stuff makes my head hurt, trying to sort it all out."

I nodded and said, "You have no idea, Mom."

Mom giggled again. "I think I really became suspicious when you reached your teenage years. I remember when you were about sixteen, you unloaded a truck load of organic fertilizer one summer day and your shirt was off and you looked so handsome and so like the boy I made love to at Woodstock." Mom's tongue peeked out and she grinned evilly when she continued. "I think that's when I first had naughty thoughts about you, son."

"Really?" I answered, feeling myself begin to blush.

"Well...I mean, you looked so much like the only man I ever really loved and back then...well, who'd have thought that the man of my heart and the father of my child was actually my child who'd traveled through time to seduce me." Mo m grinned evilly at me.

I felt my blush deepening and I could barely keep my eyes on Mom's face as I said, "I never meant to do that...to be your lover."

"Mom reached out and stroked my bed-mussed hair out of my eyes. "But, I don't think you tried real hard to walk away from it, did you, son?"

Taking a deep breath and then slowly letting it out, I replied, "Not from the moment I first saw you. You were...are so beautiful and when we first kissed, I knew that it was meant to be."

Mom nodded and scooched closer to me, her breasts seeming even more voluminous as she lay on her side and mashed them against my chest. "Me too -- I felt the same way. The moment I saw you...despite the weirdness of the moment, despite you actually calling me 'Mom' the first time you spoke to me, I knew that we belonged together. I knew you would be the father of my children and my soul mate for all eternity."

"Children?" I said, playfully, my hands already slipping down to her abdomen, searching for her wild and hairy pussy.

"Mom smiled and said, "Why not? I'm only forty-one." She reached down and wrapped her hand around my cock, gently stroking the already hard and long shaft. "Who knows...I think you knocked me up the first time you fucked me, son." Mom kissed me then, her tongue teasingly rolling over my lips. "Hell, baby, you might have knocked me up again a little while ago on the stairs."

Mom kissed me again, this one lasting much longer as she eased back and gently guided me between her legs. She broke the kiss, breathing heavily as she looked down between us, her hand running the swollen head of my cock up and down the length of her blossoming pussy. "Well, just to be sure...we might want to do it again, Mom," I said. I kissed her as she brought me between her labia and then I whispered softly, "And again and again and again," as I slowly sank into her motherly cunt.

Mom cried out happily and thrust her hips upwards to meet my hard cock as she cried out, "Oh yes, son...forever!"

#

It might be a cliché, but it is also true that you could say that we've lived happily ever after. Mom and I have lived as husband and wife for twenty-three years. Mom still runs her herb business and grew it into something quite large and profitable in the internet age. I abandoned engineering and gained a Masters in history and teach in a local community college...my specialty, the 1960s. Last summer we watched with pride as the first of our twins, Daphne graduated from college with a nursing degree. Her brother, Billy will pick up a chemical engineering degree this coming spring. Our youngest, Janis starts college next year and she wants to follow Mom into the herb business.

As for Crazy Craig, I still don't know what happened to him. Maybe he blinked himself and his machine out of existence with his tampering of the design. Maybe he's back there ages ago, hobnobbing with the Ancients. Maybe he's somewhere in the future. I hope he's happy. I still think he was nuts, but I owe him so much. I owe him the life that I lead with the woman I love more dearly than anything.

Mom, at sixty-four years old, is as beautiful as ever, only her silvered hair betraying the years that have passed. Every day with Mom is more magical than the one before, our love growing deeper and richer with each passing day. Working and raising the kids up and life in general has kept us busy day in and day out, but we make sure we have our own, private moments whenever possible.

I'm sure the kids all roll their eyes each time they hear Jefferson Airplane or Janis or Joe coming from the speakers of the sound system in our bedroom and in the forty some years since Woodstock, there has been some great releases of the music performed there -- far beyond what one can see in the movie or original soundtrack. The kids have long known that when the music is playing that they need to give Mom and Dad their privacy. They know we're making love and magic, recreating and returning to the past even as we savor each moment of the present and anxious await the future...they know that this is our own magic time and that time itself is magic.

The End