Chapter 13
Contrary to the facts related to Martin by his scheming daughter, the idea of going to Rhode Island to visit her mother never entered June's mind.
She spent the better part of the morning on the telephone. Each of her closest friends met a new June Reynolds that day. The dark clouds that for nine months hung low over her life had been dissipated by a fresh, breezy indifference towards her future. She seemed to know that everything was going to improve. What had caused it, they wondered. A new man? A few of them asked her, but she was vague in her response. Pressed further, she made it quite clear she would not divulge the secret of her newly found peace of mind. One or two grew angry with her-she laughed it off. There seemed to be no weapon able to pierce the armor of her good humor.
She fixed herself a light breakfast and took a long, leisurely bath. Stepping out of the tub she dried herself quickly, then removed the towel in order to admire her naked figure in the full-length mirror. She was proud of her body. Why shouldn't she be? When she'd removed her nightgown the night before, hadn't her own daughter emitted a low, naughty whistie of approval? After they had masturbated each other, Liz had told her how all the girls her age who were into bisexuality would do anything for a lover of her looks and maturity. The possibilities seemed endless-June could occupy herself with young girls, Liz had promised to introduce her to dozens of them, or she could resume her affair with the young Carl Aldrich. This pleased her; she would enjoy the opportunity to get back at that weak-pricked Larry, and what better way than to throw him over for his son?
Whichever path she took, boys or girls (or perhaps both!)
June knew that the near future held many experiences, many ecstasies she would have never known without the help and love of her elder daughter. I must remember to thank her again tonight, June thought, licking her lips.
She went into her bedroom and selected her briefest bikini from her wardrobe. It was a white nylon 'string' type: the new style that had just come in from Rio and was the new rage on all the beaches. June was glad she had worked so hard to keep her figure all these years-a woman had to have a very good body to get away with wearing these bathing suits. She checked herself again in the mirror: nice. She felt twenty years younger. She giggled to herself; when she had bought the suit, her only reason had been that it was perfect for sunbathing, since it covered almost nothing but her nipples and her lower cracks; at the time she hadn't even considered using it for seduction purposes, but that was exactly what she had in mind now as she winked at herself in the mirror and went out to the pool in the backyard.
The idea had come to her immediately upon hearing of Liz's plans to go into the city. It was why June had been so enthusiastic for both her daughters to go: she wanted to be alone in the house with her son Bobby.
At first she was shocked that she could even consider it, but it hadn't taken long for her to see both sides of the question. It was true that the act she contemplated was branded as a crime even worse than murder in all the societies of the world, but that did not reduce the significance of the fundamental question: was it really so bad? Hadn't she already slept with her own daughter? Hadn't they both escaped unscathed? Could it be that lesbian incest was less dangerous than the heterosexual variety? The questions were endless. June dismissed them with a wave of her hand. Enough. She would do it and that was that.
Actually June Reynolds' irresistable determination to seduce her son had its genesis not in logic or passion, but in an emotional response. The night before, in the middle of their post-coital conversation, with her mother's lips lightly kissing her open thighs, Liz had made an offhand remark concerning evidence that her brother was becoming homosexual. June, horrified by the possibility, but careful to keep her reaction to herself, suggested that perhaps Liz could do something about it. The girl refused, insisting that sex with her brother would destroy her sanity. June thought her daughter's fears rang a little false, but there was nothing she could do-Liz was adamant. So it was up to June. She accepted the responsibility silently; like most women she was a good martyr. And as the time grew nearer, she looked forward more and more eagerly to her sacrifice. Liz had worked her magic once more.
June spread a beach towel on the ground and stretched out beside the pool. The sun began to bake its warmth into her golden-brown skin. She would lie here quietly, and wait for Bobby to come down from the house.
Bobby woke up with an ache in his cock. He smiled to himself when he remembered what caused it.
"What movie are we going to see?" he had asked Barbara the night before as they drove into town, the top down on the car, the sun setting, her long red hair blowing in the wind. She did not answer him. He thought that was pretty strange, but then maybe she hadn't heard him. Yet he knew something unusual was happening when they drove right past the movie-house and kept on going. "What are you doing, Barbara?"
"For the past few, days, baby brother, you have been a real little prick-sulking, moping around the house, not even asking if you could ball us-and Liz and I are fed up. Ever since we got Carl over the house to ball Holly, you've been acting like a little priest, so I've decided to take you somewhere where we can be alone, talk, screw, and get all this jealousy shit out of your system."
He gazed out the window, a dark look on his face. "I'm not mad at you and Liz. I'm mad at Holly. It just bothers me that she'd rather fuck Carl than me, that's all." He paused. "I thought she really liked me."
His sister smiled knowingly. "Look," she said, "there's no point ruining all your fun over a girl who isn't worth it."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he said angrily. "Only that a girl who'd rather fuck Carl than you doesn't have very much on the ball."
"You think I'm better than he is?" he asked.
"Much better."
Barbara glanced at him. Liz had been right: the male ego is a wonderful thing-wonderful because it's so easy to manipulate. "How about if we head over to the beach and find ourselves a nice, secluded spot." "Far out!" Bobby said.
They paid the toll and went over the bay bridge to the state park. The parking lot was almost empty of cars; all the daytime ocean goers had left; the beach was deserted under the summer evening.
"Let's move off into the dunes," Barbara suggested.
About two hundred yards down the beach they found a perfect place. They spread their blanket out in a narrow hollow of sand. On either side scrub-grass extended away from them in both directions; anyone approaching could be spotted fifty yards away.
"Think I can still get some sun?" Barbara said, removing her clothes and stretching out on the blanket, wincing at the red ball of the sun as it rolled down over the horizon.
"Nope, too weak now," her brother said, stripping off his shorts and laying down next to her.
Their little hollow was already being thrown into shadow as Bobby reached over to caress his sister's tits. She lay on her back, her heavy breasts crushed into thick pillows of flesh by their own weight, and let him investigate freely. She was intent on her own pleasure, but both sisters had agreed that this was Bobby's night, and he could have whatever he wanted.
For some people only the bedroom will serve for lovemaking; others enjoy the stimulation that the other rooms of the house afford; but for a special few the outdoors is the best of all possible worlds for sex. Bobby Reynolds was one of these. At fifteen the character of his sexuality was already beginning to develop. To put it in its simplest terms: there was something about the beach that made him super-horny. What was the cause of it? Perhaps it was the fantasies provoked by women half naked. Perhaps it was the total inversion of behavior associated with the scene: everyone displaying, enjoying, in short, celebrating their bodies. Maybe it was the blatant animalism he felt in existing so close to our natural origins. Whatever it was, the sun, the salty wind, and the surge of the sea were closely associated in his mind with the heat and the urge of fucking. * Even at night, with the sand cool next to their blanket and the breeze blowing over them, the shore worked its magic on him once more and he felt he could come forever.
He almost did. He fucked Barbara in the cunt first, then in the mouth. Then for the hell of it, he took her from behind, his cock up her asshole with nothing for lubrication but the grease from her orgasm. He rested for fifteen minutes by kneeling her over his face and sucking her off, then he fucked all three holes all over again. After six comes they carried each other back to the car and drove home.
So he was not surprised the next morning when he awoke with a tender penis. The funny thing was, it didn't hurt on the outside from the friction, it hurt on the inside from so many ejaculations. And stranger still, he still felt like fucking, but he just didn't know if his body could take it.
Well, it doesn't matter anyway, he thought as he washed and put on his bathing suit, I'll just lay out by the pool for a few hours and recuperate. He glanced out the window of his room at the backyard. From his vantage point on the second floor he had a clear view down into the pool area, which was protected from the eyes of curious neighbors by a high, solid wooden fence and tall, thick shrubbery. He could see his mother's tanned, lean body stretched out on a towel on the white concrete. A twinge of desire went through him. He had always thought she was nice-looking, but lately, with all that had happened, he'd begun to look at her in a different way. He wasn't ashamed of his feelings; he seemed able to divorce himself from the fact that this beautiful woman was his own mother. But, to his credit, he was mature enough to realize that if a woman like her wanted a man, she wouldn't have to go after teenage boys. He went happily down the stairs-at least he'd have something nice to look at while he hung around.
His mother heard him coming and turned her head toward him. She was lying on her stomach and she'd undone the top of her bikini in order to get an even tan on her back. He saw her smile spread beneath her big, round sunglasses.
"Morning, Mom," he said, dropping into a deck chair and squinting up at the bright blue sky. He wanted to make his interest in her body less apparent than it probably was; for her sake, he did not want to embarrass her.
"Morning? My Lord, it must be one o'clock already."
He did not realize she was playing with him. "Oh no," he said defensively, "it's only a few minutes past noon!"
"Still .. ." she kidded, "that's awfully late to be getting out of bed on a beautiful Saturday like this. You must have had quite a night."
He blushed immoderately, but June did not notice because of her sunglasses. "What movie did you see?"
Bobby thought desperately; he'd been unprepared for a third degree. He remembered something Liz had told him when they first started making it: conversation is like chess-in order to protect yourself you must stay five moves ahead of your opponent at all times-that, and not brevity, is the soul of wit.
"Oh ... uh .. . just one of those spy movies."
"Which one?" She was not trying to probe, she was only trying to make conversation.
Bobby racked his memory of the innumerable espionage films he had seen.
"Uh . .. Doctor No," he said finally.
His mother nodded knowingly. "Isn't that James Bond?"
"Yes," he said, happy to have a question he could answer easily. "I think I know it. Isn't that the one with Ursula Andress?"
"Yes," he said again.
His mother watched him closely. "She's very beautiful, isn't she?" She was thinking about her son's latency.
"I guess so," he said vaguely. He was sensitive about sex in front of her, afraid that any expression of interest might reveal his desire for her.
"You don't think she is attractive?"
"Sure," he said simply, "I guess she is."
His answers did nothing to relieve June's concern. Had he responded to her inquiries with an emphatic Yes, she would have gladly abandoned her plan, but as it was there did seem to be a problem. And only one sure-fire way to solve it. June imagined that almost any of her friends would be happy to assist her by seducing her son, but she did not underestimate the seriousness of the situation. She had to be sure he was treated in the right manner.
Bobby, in order to escape further conversation, had gotten up and walked off around the far side of the pool.
June watched him for a moment and then called, "Bobby, would you come over here please?"
He walked back. "Yes Mom?"
"This time of day the sun's rays are the strongest. I want to make sure I don't burn. Would you be a dear and put some tanning lotion on the backs of my legs while I lie here?"
Bobby felt a lump form in his throat and his groin. His mother's request, like a sorcerer's words, sent him headlong into an unreal world from which he did not emerge for the rest of that day. For the next twelve hours he would be a puppet with two masters: his own passion and his mother's whim.
He got down on his knees beside her outstretched body. He took up the tube of lotion and squeezed a bit of it out into his sweating palm. He reached down and ran his hand along the length of her legs.
"Rub it in well, dear."
His hands glided across the smooth, hairless skin. "Higher, dear."
His fingers crossed her knees and massaged their way up the back of her thighs. She perspired freely, her sweat mixing with the lotion and forming a shiny layer of oil over her hot skin.
"Now my back, Bobby." He moved up and began to work the white cream into her slender shoulders. "Lower, please."
He worked down across her back. The straps of her bikini top fell away to either side. He rubbed lower and lower undl his hands were only inches from her bottom. He could see the top of her asscrack peeking out at him from the edge of her panties.
"Now for the front," she said.
Part of him wanted to yell Stop! but he couldn't. His will did not belong to him, it belonged to his mother- he would do anything she asked.
June rolled over onto her back. Bobby's eyes went wide involuntarily, as though he had just entered a dark room and there was something in front of him he very much wanted to see. It was his mother's breasts.
June, well aware that the years had caused her ample bust to sag slightly from the pertness of girlhood, lifted each breast in a cupped hand. "I have to be so careful with my tits; they burn so easily, you know. Would you put some cream on them, too?" She was enjoying herself. As with the night before, when she had gone to bed with her own daughter, once June decided to do it, she made up her mind to have a good time. After all, how many women get to fuck their children?
Bobby was still prisoner of her strange spell. He reached out and touched his mother's breasts. June breathed a long sigh of relief as her son expertly caressed her swollen mammaries. He did not bother with the cream now; perspiration ran down her throat and onto her chest in slender streams; his hands moved easily over her skin.
She got up on her knees and faced him. She squeezed out a handful of lotion and began to rub it into his strong arms. She worked quickly toward his chest, moving her hands in little circles over his quivering muscles.
"You need some of this, too," she said softly. "I don't want your nice, pretty body to get burned."
Her hands massaged his neck and then moved down across his chest. Caught in some heavy trance, his lips were moving but no words came out.
"Is there something you want to tell me, darling?" she asked nonchalantly.
Facing each other on their knees by the pool, the mother and son caressed each other silently.
After a while June took him by the hand and led him into the house. They went right upstairs.
"Why, I must have sweated away at least five pounds out there today. I simply have to have a shower-will you join me?"
In the bathroom she untied her bikini bottom and took it off.
"Now yours," she said.
Bobby removed his bathing suit. For a full minute they stood and stared at each other's nudity. The sight of the penis of her only son-that little cock she hadn't seen in years, that she used to tease and tickle and take into her mouth in what she thought was play but knew now was something else-sent her into a paroxysm of delight. How it had grown! Why, it was just as big as his father's!
The vision of his mother's dark pubic triangle completed Bobby's enchantment. He was an automaton: his body, without direction, followed the instinctive impulses he had long controlled.
June intuitively knew he was about to move toward her. Not here, she thought. She wanted him as much as he her, but balling in the bathroom had never been her style. How to stall him? Only one way, she thought. I must act as though he does not excite me, perhaps that will dampen his desire long enough for me to get him into the bedroom.
She reached out her hand and took his. "Come on," she said, "we both need a bath." It worked. He followed her docilely into the stall shower. She closed the frosted glass door behind them and turned on the water.
A jet of water hit them. June dodged to avoid the hot spray-right into Bobby's arms. He kissed her savagely, locking his arms around her naked body and forcing his tongue deep into her open mouth. She struggled against him for a moment, then, caught in her own trap, surrendered to his irresistible force.
His hands closed over the small of her back, then groped lower and lower until he was holding one firm, round buttock of her ass in each hand. He pulled her hard against him and ground his prick on her soft pelvis.
She went wild on him. She held his head in her two slender hands and kissed him deeply. She slid her tongue over his open lips and into his mouth. She licked across his teeth and went deeper, then sucked her son's tongue back again into hers.
He repeated her caress, exploring her oral orifice so deeply that she nearly gagged.
She squirmed harder and faster against him as her excitement rose, her hips rotating in wide circles, and little cries of pleasure leapt up her throat each time her swollen clit brushed against his hardened cock-shaft.
They moved in their lewd dance to the rhythm of their own arousal, oblivious to everything but the other's wet and naked body.
Clouds of steam were pouring from the shower stall, as though the water that was falling on them could not extinguish the burning couple, but only make their fire hotter, fiercer. Bobby pressed his mother back against the shower wall and got one of his legs between hers. She assisted by raising herself up on her toes and hugging his neck, trying to get as high on him as she could. She rested her head on his shoulder to help maintain the position.
He took her standing in the shower.
Luckily he hadn't yet grown to his full adult height; he was still short enough so that he did not have to hold her in the air. She opened her legs to accommodate him, then closed them tight against his thighs.
For all his zeal, it took him a long time to get into her; suddenly all the expertise he'd developed over the past week deserted him. He licked her ear to distract her from his Tumblings. He began to think he would never succeed, and then just as suddenly he was in.
His mother went completely out of her mind.
"Oh God! Oh God! Oh Christ! Oh Shit!!!" she screamed in his ear. She clawed at him like a mad witch in the final moments of her destruction. He crushed against her in a vain attempt to escape the sharp nails of her flailing hands. She tore a long gash down the length of his spine (the scar of which he'd carry for the rest of his life to remind him of that day).
The water from the shower spattered against his back, rinsing off the blood that flowed out of the wound.
June had not had a hard cock inside her in almost a year. She was tight as a drum. He beat his penis into her vagina at an incredible tempo. She punctuated each thrust with an ecstatic yelp.
"Uh ... uh .... uh ... uh ... uh ... uh .. . uh ... uh ... uh ..."
She sank both hands into his hair and forced his head away from her, exposing his tender throat to her lips and teeth. Her mouth left huge welts on his young skin. She pulled away and looked into his frightened eyes.
"Fuck me, Bobby! Fuck your mother! Fuck your mother!"
He seemed to catch fire all over again. He wrenched her hands off him and pinned them to her sides, holding her hips motionless with all his strength.
"I'll fuck you. I'll fuck you," he said with suppressed rage. "I'll fuck you till there's not an ounce of come left in your body."
"Take it! Take it!"
He rammed his prick into her again and again and again. He stooped and then slammed up into her with all the strength in his legs. He did it again, and again.
She had her first orgasm. "Bobby!!!! OOOOOhhhhhh!!!! Yes ... yes ... yes ... YY YYYYYEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!"
He didn't stop-he couldn't stop. He drove it into her, he jammed it into her, he banged it into her. She came again.
"OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" Her head was waving back and forth, his hips were ramming up and down. He worked his hands between her buttocks and the tile wall and shoved a finger up her asshole.
"SSSSHHHHIIIITTTT!!!!!"
She was coming constantly now. He lost count of her orgasms. But he hadn't lost count of his own. His was coming up right now, and it was going to be his only one. For some reason he knew it was all coming out in one shot. Way down at the base of his ass, at the bottom of his cock, he could feel his ejaculation coming, forming a tight fist, ready for the punch.
June had raised her arms and rested them on Bobby's shoulders. Her whole body had relaxed-only the muscles of her ravaged cunt continued to clutch and contract.
Now it was Bobby's turn. For some miracle, probably because of all the fucking he'd done the night before, his sperm hadn't spilled sooner and denied his mother her full pleasure-now it came boiling up like a jet of blood.
For one single, brief second, Bobby stopped his pumping thrusts, then with a force that almost broke June's back, he heaved his meat into his mother's hole and sprayed her cervix with his incestuous seed.
Now he had her, now she was his, totally his.
They stood for a time in each other's arms as the shower of water continued to fall against them