Chapter 9
Katherine didn't feel the impact of what she'd done until it was too late when the deed had been committed and she was satiated, her crazed desire gone and her mind clear. It was like waking up the morning after you've made an ass out of yourself at a party and remembering it all with your clear, throbbing, aching head. At least the things she had done before, first with Bill and later with his friends Clyde and Jack, could in part be excused by drinking, or by circumstance, or even by the fact that she had been the object, the one on the receiving and accepting because she had very little choice; the humiliation and degradation that had been heaped upon her, and enjoying it because of the perverted creature, she must be down in her heart. But this was completely different. She'd been stone sober and the act had been premeditated. No circumstances had arisen to put her in a position where it was impossible to refuse. Of her own volition she'd gone looking for it, and what she had found had been innocent and pure and young. And herself always the directing force, she'd carried out the seduction with the lascivious and crazed lust of a jaded whore. As she made the seemingly endless drive back home, Katherine tried in every way she could imagine to rationalize her deed. But it was hopeless. The fact that she'd hardly been aware of its terrible profundity until after her maddening desire was satisfied and she was able to see with a clear head was no excuse and did nothing to ease her anguished conscience. And she couldn't help but wonder what Tod's mother who must feel all the love and protective instincts for him that she had always felt for Tom would think if she knew what her son had been subjected to this afternoon, not by a young nymphet who might not have ever been taught any better, but by a supposedly respectable married woman who was old enough to be his mother and who also until two days ago had always striven to live a pure, Christian life. As Katherine pulled into the drive and got out of the car and started up the walk to the house, she thought that as long as she lived she would never rectify or forgive herself for what had happened today.
Katherine walked through the house without a word to the trio who were watching television in the den. She went straight to the bedroom, undressed and got into a housecoat, then went to bed. In a few moments Paul came in. "What's the matter, honey?" She turned away from him and stared at the wall. "I just feel a little sick."
She heard him walk toward the bed, felt him sit down on the edge of it and put his hand on her shoulder on the outside of the covers.
"Well ... do you want me to call the doctor or something?"
"I went," she said without thinking, still not looking back at him.
"And ... ?"
"I went to Albuquerque. He said I just needed a good rest."
"Katherine?"
She sensed the suspicion in his voice. "Will you just leave me alone!" she snapped. "Just leave me and let me sleep."
She pulled her knees up almost to her breasts, curling into a defensive ball. In a moment he removed his hand from her shoulder, sighed and stood up. She heard his footsteps going away from the bed. The door opened and closed and she was alone. Crying softly, she rolled onto her belly. She spread her arms out beneath the covers, enjoying the friction of the sheet on her breasts which were scarcely protected by the flimsy housecoat. After all she'd done, and now knew she would never do again, she thought she could allow herself that minute consolation.
About ten minutes must have passed before the door opened again. Katherine still lay face down, and she pretended sleep as she heard his footsteps coming back to the bed, felt it give again as he sat down beside her. Silently she waited for the barrage of questions she knew were to come. But instead she felt his hand come to rest lightly on her back, slipping beneath the covers to begin to massage her with a gentle expertise she wouldn't have thought her husband capable of, carefully and tenderly loosening the stiff muscles of her back. An involuntary purr escaped her and she made a soft squirming motion beneath the covers. It felt so good and gentle and now she needed that so badly. Then, when she heard the voice that spoke, her body snapped taut as a wire: "Mrs. Beauchamp, I think I'm the only person in this house who understands what you're going through now."
It was Lys!
"I just want to tell you I understand. And somehow I want you to try to understand me."
She turned over slowly. Gritting her teeth she stared up at the blonde's beautiful, sympathetic face framed by the long golden hair that hung over her breasts almost to her waist. She felt the anger surge like molten lava up in her. She rose, trembling, to a sitting position on the bed, clutching her coat tightly to her half-exposed breasts.
"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"
"About what you're going through, and your natural reaction to it. I understand and I want to try to help you."
"HELP ME?"
Her hand lashed out like a whip, swiping hard across the side of the girl's face. When it had passed, she saw crimson prints of her own fingers rush to the girl's cheeks. But she hadn't flinched. And there seemed to be not a sign of hostility in the blue eyes that gazed, through the tears that filled them, calmly back at her.
"YOU ARE THE CAUSE OF IT ALL!" she said. "YOU ARE THE CAUSE OF EVERYTHING I'VE DONE!"
She didn't even hear the girl's still tranquil reply. In a flash she was out from beneath the covers and running, the house coat trailing loosely on her almost naked body, through the door and down the hall, across the patio, into the den where Paul was watching television and no sign of Tom. Without a reply to her husband's astonished gaze she clutched the coat together, her fingers fumbling to tie the sash, and went out of the den and on to the bedroom where she found him reading a magazine.
She stopped in the door and caught her breath. He looked up at her strangely.
"Mom?"
"GET HER OUT!"
"What?"
"GET THAT LITTLE CUNT OUT OF MY HOUSE RIGHT NOW!" she screamed, her body shaking with her anger.
She saw his face redden slowly. He nodded his head, tossing the magazine aside. He dropped his feet to the floor and stood up. His eyes bore angrily into Katherine's, then they slowly descended the length of her body that was hardly concealed by the flimsy robe clinging temptingly to her luxurious contours. Then he walked over and picked up the duffel bag he used instead of a suitcase and began tossing a few personal items into it. Katherine watched him dumbly for a moment, unable to believe what she saw.
"I didn't mean you," she said weakly. "Just her."
He didn't look up or answer. He went ahead carefully packing the bag. "Tom?"
She took a step toward him. She was looking at his face and his body. She was remembering him. She was remembering the day she had him. She was remembering the feel, so long ago, of his lips on her breasts as she nursed him. She could hear Paul's voice echoing from the reaches of her mind: "The only sex kicks you get are nursing that goddamn baby." She remembered him struggling with his gleeful face shining as the rest of the team hoisted him to their shoulders and carried him off the field. She remembered the sight of him, in the darkness of this room, as Lys sucked his cock that first night they got back. The images all flooded circularly and at once in her mind. And she knew something now, suddenly clear as bright light: If she let him walk out of the house now she wouldn't see him again for a long time. Maybe not for years. Maybe never.
"Tom! I didn't mean it."
He still didn't look up. She was walking toward him, her hand still clutching the robe, yet loosely so it hardly concealed her swelling breasts, so her slender satiny thighs protruded from it with her steps.
"I didn't mean it. I said that because I love you."
She threw her arms around him, feeling the coat to fall apart down the front. He tried to push her away, then with the realization that came upon him as he felt her naked breasts brush his arm, his body stiffened and he turned his head to stare at her incredulously.
"I didn't mean it," she continued, the words flowing from her mouth without control. "I didn't mean it, I said it because I love you and I don't want you to go or her to go or anything, I just want you to stay here because I love you. Tom. Tom. Tom."
"What are you doing?" he said, trying to push her away.
Her thighs brushed his crotch. She felt it and a shiver went through her body. A soft sob came to her lips. She squirmed her body wildly against him, kissing him madly all over the face. It had to be, she thought.
Insane as it was, it had to be. As if it had been written, long ago. And maybe it had.
"It has to be, Tom. It has to be."
"Mother!"
"I saw your father making love to Lys in the patio the day after you got here."
The words hit him like a bombshell. As she said it, she released him, letting him step back and stare at her with incredulous anger as the words and their meaning seeped into his consciousness. He looked dazed, almost in shock. Scarce surprise even registered in his eyes as she pushed the housecoat off her shoulders, let it fall to the floor behind, leaving her body completely nude and exposed before him. He didn't retreat as she stepped slowly toward him, her breath wrenching hoarsely from her lungs, her breasts swollen and heaving with the strained breathing, her eyes wild and determined with her lust. And as she undid his belt and unzipped his levis and pulled them off his hips, he didn't resist.
She reached inside his jockey shorts, her fingers lightly caressing the hard, erect shaft of his cock which twitched and throbbed at her touch. A sob of delight escaping her, she pulled the shorts off his hips so they fell, after his levis, to his ankles. She gazed down bleary eyed at the hard beautiful shaft of her mature son's virile young cock. Oh God, he was a real man now, she thought as she bent toward it, pushing him down to a reclining position on the side of the bed. Her son was a man now. He was everything that always, subconsciously, she'd ever dreamed he would be. "Mom?"
It was but a faint gasp of protest, and it faded away as he felt her lips touch the throbbing purple head of his penis, forming a circle as her tongue flicked wetly over the gland, then slide slowly down the shaft. Suddenly, his last resistance fading, he jerked his hips violently upwards, thrusting it deeper into her wet sucking mouth, his hands dropping to her shoulders, then moving down to the breasts that so many years ago had nursed him. A soft moan exuded from his throat and he began to rotate his hips sensuously, driving his cock slowly in and out of the exquisite cavern of his mother's mouth.
She could have sucked him forever. She would have loved to suck him until he came, to have swallowed every drop of that seed that was in part her own, to have licked his beautiful hard young cock dry of it, to have held it tenderly in her mouth until it deflated. But the urgency in her own loins was more than she could stand. And she could hear voices, Paul's and Lys', from somewhere else in the house. So one last time she inched her lips down the now slick, palpitating pole, her tongue flicking out into the bristles of hair standing off his youthful sperm-filled testicles. Then she raised her head and slid up his body, climbing on the bed with him and crouching above him, spreading her thighs wide as she seized the bursting, still growing member gently in her hands, bent it to an upright position and fitted the tip up between her open thighs into the already slick wet lips of her cunt.
With a soft wail Katherine dropped her hips abruptly down. It slipped in easily, filling and stretching her eagerly welcoming vaginal sheath until she wanted to scream from the ecstasy of it. She settled her hips on his loins, screwing them around in a slow gentle circle so the cock seemed to ream the hungry burning walls of her vagina.
Tom gave a soft groan, flexing deep inside her. She lowered her face to him and kissed him full on the lips, sucking his tongue deep in her mouth, rotating her hips more wildly as he thrust up, driving viciously to the most inner reaches of her cunt and causing her to wail gleefully. Then suddenly both of them began to toss and thmsh wildly, her son lunging beneath her, Katherine bouncing up and down so that at the peak she almost lifted completely off the giant, skewering instrument, and at the bottom of her descent she was excruciatingly impaled almost to the depths of her widely flowered belly.
The orgasmic fluttering in her loins began almost the instant the smooth rubbery head of his penis first touched the sensitive wet lips of her pussy. It rumbled like thunder deep inside her, a great stirring storm of the sea. Rapidly the ecstasy and longing that filled her surged upward toward its shattering peak. It's Tom, she told herself deliriously. It was Tom, her own beautiful young seventeen year old son, who was fucking her so deeply and wonderfully, Tom whom she'd wanted so long Tom, whom she'd wanted since the day he was born. The sound of the footsteps in the hall did nothing to deter her. She continued to toss and thmsh wantonly upon him, letting her body fall with total hedonistic abandon on his viriley hardened young cock that lunged with equal savagery into her burning loins. When she heard her husband's voice and the incredulous curse that escaped his lips, she didn't alter the frenzy of her tense staccato hunching. She was cumming insanely and her son, she knew, was also past the point of no return. She would have to deal with Paul later, she thought only vaguely as the shudders of ecstasy rippled through her loins, as she felt her vagina spasm, tighten hungrily on Tom's cock, wringing it for everything it could give her.
She lay exhausted on top of him. She thought for a moment she might have even slept. But now she was awake and content, his hands stroking gently over the tender naked skin of her back.
"I don't know what happened," he said. "I'm sorry mother. I know it was my fault."
She kissed him so passionately on the lips that he could not resist, squirming her naked breasts over his chest. Then with a soft, sad sob she lifted her hips up, her tightly locked vaginal walls reluctantly relinquishing the penis it warmly caressed, and rolled off of him.
"No Tom," she said in a voice that must have sounded strange to him. "Everything is all right for the first time in such a long time and it's nobody's fault and there's nothing for anyone to be sorry about." He looked at her strangely. "I just have to go straighten this out with your father and then ... "
"I guess I'll never be able to look him in the eye again either," said Tom. "But damn him, Lys was my girl and he had no business ... " A gentle caress of her hands on his wet, now deflated cock silenced him. "Don't be so up-tight," Katherine said with an oddly mischievous smile. She leaned over and tenderly kissed the tip of his glistening penis, then hopped off the bed and walked, still naked, into the hall.
She found Paul in the bedroom going through some personal papers. On the floor beside the chair she noted his briefcase, which he was apparently filling with the things he would be needing during the next few days. She'd expected as much. He was going to leave too. But she was pretty sure she knew how to stop him and to accomplish that, she'd already resolved she would do whatever was required. She had loved him in a way, without ever having given him a sexually satisfying experience. She had not been completely unhappy with him. But with what she'd learned in the last few days and with the freeing of her own mind from the horrible shackles of false morality that had bound her that had happened the moment she'd made up her mind to go ahead and yield to that ultimate temptation, incest she could hardly even dream of the happiness she'd cheated herself and Paul out of all these years. But she knew there was still time to try to make up for some of it.
Paul looked up with a seething anger. Nothing in his eyes displayed any appreciation or even awareness of his nakedness. Then he resumed shuffling through the papers.
"I didn't know if you'd get finished in time for me to say goodbye to you," he said without looking up.
"I don't want you to go," Katherine said.
He didn't answer. He bent down and dropped another batch of forms into his briefcase, then continued with his task.
"I love you."
"Fuck off," he snapped.
For a moment after that Katherine watched him in silence. A strange thrill of anticipation coursed through her loins. She wanted him now, so very much, as she'd never let herself want him before. She knew that out of her guilt, she'd channeled her natural sexual desire for the man she loved into an incestuous mother-love that was perverted not in itself but in its twisted motive. But she felt no guilt for what had happened with their son. That even now seemed pure and natural, the only logical response to her feelings.
Breathless, Katherine walked to the dresser. She saw him glance nervously up, then pretend to ignore her. She paused, so close to him his elbow almost brushed the thick black hair of her pussy, and slowly sank toward the floor. She reached down to his trousers and opened the zipper halfway before he angrily shoved her away, so hard she almost fell on her back. Breathing heavily now, she regained her balance and made no protest. With a swift deft flick of her finger she finished unzipping the trousers. She felt that though his penis wasn't nearly hard, neither was it quite soft. She took consolation in the fact that already she'd made a start, then met his angry gaze unashamedly, ready for whatever his response might be. For a moment she thought he was going to hit her, and she waited willingly even for that. Then again he tried to pretend to ignore her and returned his attention to the papers. Sucking in a sharp breath, Katherine reached to his crotch again, slipped two fingers in and changed the direction of his now rapidly hardening penis so it pointed up out of his fly. She felt him shift uncomfortably and again he glared at her, the anger not tempered by his astonishment. In spite of everything he tried to do to stop it, his penis was rising. And she could see in his eyes that now he was aware with grudging appreciation of her nakedness. She leaned forward and took it in her mouth, twirling her tongue sensuously around it, trying to call to fore in a moment everything she'd learned in the last three mad days. Instantly his cock swelled in her mouth to its full size and she popped her lips off of it and looked up with an expression of unreserved surrender.
"I'll do anything you want, Paul. Anything you want."
She saw the struggle mirrored in his face: anger and desire, love and hate in a relentless, life and death battle. His teeth gritted and his eyes flared and she waited, naked, on her knees. After what seemed a terribly long time, a vicious looking grin twisted his lips.
"All right. You asked for it."
He stood up, brushing past her, and walked over to the bed. He paused beside it and began taking off his clothes. Katherine rose and walked after him, her heart pounding so hard she thought it would burst, her breath sharp and heavy.
"Get up there," he said, pointing at the bed. "On your knees."
Beset by a vaguely frightening premonition, she complied. Out of the comer of her eye she watched him finish undressing. In his eyes was a look she'd never seen before, and she wondered anxiously what terrible thing he might be capable of doing to her to appease his wrath.
"Now, kneel up, with your incestuous little ass in the air," he commanded when he'd removed his trousers.
For a moment she hesitated. Then she felt his hand on her hips, jerking them to the kneeling position he desired: her buttocks high in the air, her face and torso and swollen breasts resting on the bed, thighs wide apart to expose her cunt and anus. She felt the bed give slightly as he climbed up behind her; then his hands slid into the crack between her buttocks, probing at the tight sore hole of her anus, and with a sudden sickening fear she remembered the terrible pain when that young boy in the deserted house had inadvertently violated for but a moment that terrible tightness, and she understood what he had on his mind.
Katherine bit her lip to muffle the cry of protest that welled in her throat. Anything but that, she thought. My god, she'd never be able to stand it! But somehow, even as she felt his hands grasp harshly at her hips, holding them steady in the air as he leaned forward to fit his giant palpitating shaft in the softly yielding crevice of her nakedly upraised buttocks, she held back her protest. She'd said she would do anything. She was going to stick by her promise.
Katherine gasped from the first contact. It felt huge, much larger than she'd ever thought it before of the relativity to her closed, unlubricated rectal hole. She could never take it. Tears filled her eyes as she felt him probe forward, pushing against the tightly contracted little circle, and she started to retreat. Then he seized her hips and tugged her backwards.
"Relax," he said. "Open it up."
She wanted to scream and plead for mercy. She wanted to kiss his feet, suck his cock until it was dry and soft and harmless. She wanted to tell him that when she'd said she would do anything, she'd meant "anything but this". But somehow she conquered her fear. With a soft urgent sob she sank her hips back, opening her anal passage as she felt his thumbs press outward on either side of it and peel it apart. Then he thrust forward mercilessly.
"Aaaaaagh! Aaaaaaaaagh!" she screamed.
She squirmed her naked breasts on the bedsheets, tossing her head from side to side as she felt the tight resisting nether ring giving way before the unyielding pressure, the tip of his penis popping up inside with a jerk.
She screamed again, then groaned deeply as the blunt intrusion of his cock vibrated through every fiber of her being, pushing the soft rubbery flesh inside her wide-stretched anal passage in great waves of pain before it. She moaned in submission, her eyes closing tightly in torment, shudders racking her body. At last she felt the coarse hair of his loins smack heavily against the softness of her nakedly exposed buttocks. The cruel fleshy thickness was buried to the hilt.
Without reservation, she began to cry, the sobs racking her body, the tears flooding from her eyes and wetting her cheeks and the pillow beneath them. She gritted her teeth and shoved her buttocks back against his, straining against the pain and he began to saw rhythmically back and forth deep in the soft depths of her back passage, gradually increasing the length of his strokes until the whole of his hugely-rounded rod was fucking deeply in and out of her.
But as he increased the vicious thrusting, he seemed to try to temper the pain with caresses of his hands that became almost gentle. At first they'd viciously held her pelvis in the humiliating position. Now they began to rove softly over her buttocks and down her thighs, juxtaposing the bitter torment of her rectum with soft tingles of desire that coursed out from his touch. Shivering, Katherine began to squirm her hips, increasing the sensation that, though still painful, was becoming more bearable.
Then a sharp cry of agony escaped her as he leaned forward so that his cock was even more bent down by its confinement in her rectum, even more, greatly increasing the excruciating friction. In response to her cry he automatically withdrew slightly. Another sob escaped her, but different now. She felt a lump in her throat and when she spoke it was with a low grunting voice: "D-do you, oooh, l-love me, d-darling?"
He froze behind her. For a moment there was complete silence save for both their breathing. His hands on her were still. The only movement was the throbbing of his cock inside her. Then he sighed deeply.
"Yes. I still love you."
He said it stiffly, grudgingly, but she knew he meant it anyway and right now that was all that mattered. She rocked her buttocks back hard against his loins, again taking the full length of the shaft in her throbbing, stretched rectum.
"Then fuck me hard," she gasped. "Fuck me as hard as you want to, as hard as you can and make me pay for all I've done."
For an instant longer he was motionless except for the painful twitching of his penis in her rectum. Then with a vicious lunge he unleashed the fury of his anger and lust, smacking her buttocks loudly with his loins, racking her body with the impact, the enormous instrument driving brutally into the tight, burning orifice.
But even as he'd resumed the lunging, the pain in her anus had been tempered by the feel of his hand sliding down her pubis, brushing lightly over her clitoris before one of his fingers plunged swiftly into her yearning vagina. Gradually, the pain seemed to fade. Or perhaps she learned to stand it. Or perhaps it was just the juxtaposition of the pleasure of his hand in her vagina and the knowledge that from now on life would be different and oh so much better that prompted Katherine to begin her own frantic squirming and lunging, wailing softly and deliriously as she used her own body to fuck back and compliment everything her husband did to her.