Chapter 11
It was obvious Rolf was shaken by his experience. John drew me aside.
"See if you can't get him settled down, Anne. He's had a rough time. The rest of us are going to look for Maria."
The way he said it made me glad I wasn't Kim's sister. Rolf acted a little punch-drunk and didn't immediately respond to the loss of his audience, but I guided him gently into my sitting room while the others scattered to find the missing girl. When we were alone, my son's composure broke. For a time he was again my little boy. And I cuddled him as I had in the past, his cheek pressed to my breast as I stood beside the chair he'd sagged onto.
His arm finally slid around my waist and he hugged me, his grip steady. "Glad that's over, Mom," he murmured.
"Me, too! I was scared to death for you!"
"My own fault. Dumb!"
"Why?"
He made a chuckling sound. "Thought I was smart. Figured maybe I'd catch up with you where we'd be all alone. You know."
I did know. He'd hoped-in the innocent optimism of his youth-that if he caught me alone and where interruption was un-likely, I'd be easy to persuade. The notion piqued me. At the same time, as I recalled what I'd promised him for the afternoon, his restless hunger for me aroused a responsive tingle of desire. It would have been an intense experience for both of us. The thrill of having my son make love to me again would have combined with the scary excitement of a secret passage to magnify every sensation. I shivered and unconsciously pressed my belly against his chest.
He didn't miss the significance of the sudden pressure. His free hand went to the back of my thigh and slid up it gently to rest on one asscheek. I flinched, driving my groin against him, and he squeezed the tense mound.
"Rolf! Behave yourself!" I exclaimed with abrupt breathlessness. "For heaven's sake!"
Impudently, he caressed the back of my thigh again. The arm that barred the small of my back frustrated my effort to twist away and he grinned up at me when I leaned back to frown at him. Thrusting his head forward, he deliberately rubbed his face on my breast. My relief at his safety must have combined with the wildly unconventional things I'd experienced in the previous few days to put me on edge. His caresses and the sudden nuzzling of my breast aroused a fierce hunger in me and made me clutch at him in involuntary desire.
Before I could curb that gesture, he ran his hand up the back of my leg under my skirt. As he fingered my buttocks through my panties I felt myself going to pieces. After all, I thought confusedly, why not! He's got to forget about what it was like there in the dark!
Rolf was quiet and thoughtful. The quick eagerness of his fingers lessened and with an affectionate squeeze he withdrew his hand from under my skirt. I tensed briefly; he surely hadn't abandoned the assault so easily. I wondered if I'd upset him by being too ready, if lack of resistance had dried up his appetite. But the fact was he'd stopped the devastating caress and my reason was regaining a footing. I hugged his head and bent to kiss his hair. A woman couldn't have asked for a son any more deserving of her love than mine.
"You could relax a whole lot better in the armchair," I murmured.
"I suppose."
His arm loosened and I stepped back, expecting him to get up. My typing chair was too small for him for one thing. Lean as he was, he filled the seat from side to side. And the back rest looked ridiculously undersized. He let his arm slip, then caught my hips with both of his hands. With a quick, fluid movement, he drew me to him again. And I was so off balance I was helpless to prevent his wedging his knees between mine so I straddled his lap. I held myself on tiptoe momentarily, gasping at his impudence and the treacherous attack. Then I sagged, the strain of standing seeming more than it was worth. And he cupped his hands at my buttocks and dragged me up his thighs until my pussy ground on the bulge of his trouser covered hard-on.
"Rolf, you're awful!"
"Mmmm! Doesn't feel awful to me!"
"Damn it, it doesn't to me, either! But you're terrible!"
In spite of myself, I had to jerk my hips. My pussy dug at his hidden cock and a sharp sensation of pleasure warmed me. Rolf's hands worked up my back and settled between my shoulder blades. He moved one to the back of my head and drew my face close to his. For a moment we were still, our mouths almost touching and our breath mingling. Then his wet young lips touched mine and a sea of desire burst upon me. I crushed my mouth on his and flung myself against him. I was giddy with greed as I gulped at his kiss. My tongue explored his lips and, when they parted, drove into his mouth with desperate urgency.
I felt his body go taut with surprise. His hips rose sharply and his hands tightened. He swallowed hard and sucked at the intruding tongue. But he adjusted rapidly. His own tongue drove past mine to fill my mouth and his hips began to undulate. The hard ridge of his cock rubbed on my clitoris and inflamed me with fierce heat. I heard myself whimper, deep in my throat, and recognized a new kind of response. The recent sex I'd enjoyed had done something to me; I had loosened up and was ready to throw myself into the experience without reservations or reluctance.
"Honey, I. love you," I whispered past his lips and around his tongue.
He pushed me back and laughed: "Huh? Talking with your mouth full, Mom! Couldn't understand you!"
"I said I love you, you damn smart aleck!"
"Oh! Good thing, after all these years." Coolly, he reached for the top button of my blouse.
Nettled by his flip attitude, I jerked his hand away from the button. He grinned hugely and pretended to try to evade my hands. It was the sort of mock wrestling we'd done under far different circumstances when he was younger. And I couldn't help giggling as we thrust and parried. He caught my wrists and held my hands still, at length, and laughed happily.
"Give up?" he asked.
"Of course not!" I wrenched against his grip. "You'll be sorry," he warned me.
It was my turn to laugh. But he pushed my arms behind me and captured both wrists in one hand. Calmly, paying no attention to my struggles or protests, he began to unbutton the blouse.
I would have undressed for him if he'd asked; I wouldn't even have argued. But finding myself helpless to prevent him from undressing me aroused a reaction I didn't know how to cope with. Where I would have been calm and reasonably self-possessed while taking off my own clothes, I jerked furiously at my imprisoned wrists and twisted my hips and shoulders violently to evade his fingers. Each button that popped free of its buttonhole and let my blouse sag open a little further made me flame with embarrassment and mangled dignity. And I became excruciatingly conscious of my position, my legs separated by his and dangling toward the floor while my pussy rode on the cylinder of his cock.
The more conscious I became of our lewd interlocking the more every point of contact stimulated my excitement and desire. And when he had unfastened the last button and leaned back to survey me, I sagged against the hand that held my wrists and panted loudly.
"Oh, you rat! You rat, Rolf!" The words were there, but the tone was a plea for more rather than an expression of contempt.
And he grinned with delight. As if he were removing the peeling from some piece of fruit, he casually pushed my blouse off one shoulder and then the other. The material fell away from my torso and settled down my arms.
He studied my boobs and shook his head. "How come bras are so tight, Mom?"
I glanced down involuntarily, embarrassed at the frank question. The cups had no room to spare; smooth, creamy flesh bulged at the edges and stretched the seams. The problem, of course, was my excitement. The trembling mounds had already swollen with it and I knew how my nipples must be pressing against the confining material.
"It's-it's just the way they fit," I told him weakly.
"That's cruel!" His eyes danced with glee as he reached behind me and disengaged the hooks.
The bra popped free, springing away from my boobs and letting them settle into their natural shape. With his grin growing, he deftly lifted the garment and passed it over my head. While it fell to join my blouse, he contemplated the huge globes. I cringed under his scrutiny, then lowered my head to watch with him while the nipples slowly thrust their way out of the pocket they'd formed for themselves in the softer underlying tissues. They looked like an erecting cock, telescoping into view on the swelling pads of the aureoles. And I was conscious of the halo effect of the filmy down that grew on the slopes around them.
Rolf continued to hold my wrists with one hand. He placed the other at the small of my back and bent forward so I had to lean back before his advance. He touched one nipple with the tip of his tongue, then the other. Smiling happily, he closed his lips on one and teased it with them, rolling it back and forth and worrying its tip with his teeth. I shuddered at the sharp needles of pleasure that spread through me. My breath came and went between my teeth, loud and insistent. And my hips worked slowly to rub my clitoris on his cock.
He played with my boobies for a long time. At first he seemed to be experimenting. He tugged at the nipples, caught them gently in his teeth, mauled them with his tongue and aroused them to their fullest, darkest state. But after a while he simply sucked a huge mouthful of one breast into his mouth and sucked on it, noisily as a young animal nursing. And he lost interest in keeping me helpless. I slipped one arm around the back of his head and clung to his arm with the other, unable to think of anything but the pleasure that was washing me.
The undulation of my hips grew increasingly powerful and excitement surged in me from my pussy. At length, my son seized my thighs and slid me backward toward his knees. I grabbed at his wrists and made a motion toward scrambling free. But he laughed and grabbed me, holding me in place with one hand and reaching into his pocket with the other. He had again trapped my hands and no amount of squirming seemed to loosen his grip. I was dumfounded to see him pull a length of thick nylon cord into the open until I recalled what he'd untied from my wrists and ankles in the morning.
"ROLF! What's that doing in your pocket!"
"Well-you know-I thought if I caught up with you in that passage, maybe...."
I groaned at his audacity. And knowing I couldn't defend myself, I submitted quietly to his lashing my wrists together behind my back. When they were secure, he helped me to my feet, holding me between his thighs while he unzipped my skirt. He showed immense enjoyment while he was working the garment over my hips. He did so at a pace that left no doubt he was making the most of the excitement anticipation breeds. But when the skirt had cleared my panties, he simply let go of it and allowed it to fall around my feet.
He let me stand quietly then. His hands resting lightly on my hips he ran his gaze repeatedly up and down my body, feasting himself like a glutton on the sight of the bulges and hollows. At last, he began to roll down the top of the panties. Again, however, he delayed the process. When he'd rolled them to where they exposed the bulk of my pubic hair and were tautly stretched across my buttocks, he stopped and made me turn slowly around while he studied me from all angles. I was numbed in terms of resistance; I was totally inflamed in terms of physical and emotional excitement. Awareness of his breathless excitement as he whipped himself into ever greater heights of lust by staring at me made me tremble with eagerness. And when he stopped my rotation and jerked the panties down my thighs I had to struggle to keep from thrusting my pussy toward him.
A gentle touch of his hand urged me to step out of the fallen clothes. He left my self-supporting hose where they were and pushed me back until he could once more wedge my knees apart with his. And he pulled me to him, pushing me onto his thighs. I found myself sitting almost on his knees, and he thrust them apart until the backs of my thighs rested across the fronts of his, my ass completely unsupported.
He reached under me with one hand to finger my pussy. My thighs tensed to raise my pussy and he dug his fingers into my slit, rubbing the pulsing flesh while I bounced up and down. I watched his face through a haze of passion. I saw the first flicker of a wide-eyed expression of inspiration when a new idea occurred to him. And I wasn't surprised when he made me stand and turn around.
He stood, himself, then, and hastily stripped. Seating himself immediately, he drew me backward onto his lap, astride him again. And with some awkwardness he managed to bend past me enough to lash my ankles together, crossed, under his legs. With a deeply satisfied sigh, he leaned back and pulled me back on him. When he spread his knees, my legs were pried widely apart and my pussy lay fully exposed. Only then did I realize he'd edged the chair into a position which directly faced one of the mirrors that flanked the fireplace. I gasped and turned my head away from the lewd picture I saw in the mirror. My thighs were obscenely parted, bulging where his pressed into the backs of my knees. My slit gaped open, pink and gleaming between the two strips of thick, honey-blonde pussy hair. And in the center of the wet flesh yawned the black maw of my vagina.
With one forearm pinning my elbows and drawing them toward each other behind me, my son thrust my breasts and belly forward to heighten the effect. His other hand went to my pussy, where his fingers traced paths along one pussy lip and back along the other. I couldn't have suppressed my growing excitement if I'd tried. My hips jerked and the imaged pussy opposite me leaped up and down. My boobies bounced and my belly writhed. I no longer tried to avoid seeing my reflection, but watched it with burning eyes and an open mouth.
But Rolf didn't restrict himself to fondling my pussy. He appeared to take delight in being able to handle me-in having the freedom to put his hand anywhere he wanted to. He abandoned my steaming pussy again and again to caress my belly or rub the inside bulges of my thighs or maul my boobies. And every new touch was a tongue of flame added to the fire of my lust.
In spite of his frequent excursions, he began devoting an increasing proportion of his time to fingering my pussy. Every jab of his fingers into the trough of my slit sent a powerful jolt of delight through me. When he started running one finger around the thick rim of my vagina I couldn't thrust myself hard enough onto the marvelous bluntness of the moving digit.
As my own movements became more agitated I grew intensely conscious of the heavy prod at my back. Rolf's youth and eagerness triggered a copious flow of the lubricating fluid men generate, and its slippery layers soon coated my back, his cockhead slithering in the quickly thickening wetness and arousing a curious, tingly excitement of its own. But when his thumb worked the hood of my clitoris back and began to rub the quivering little organ I went absolutely wild.
I arched myself and clamped my thighs on his until the muscles seemed to crack. I jerked my shoulders from side to side while my boobies leaped drunkenly. My ass lashed up and down uncontrollably and my bound feet jerked backward and forward under my son's legs.
"OMIGOD, HONEY! I CAN'T STAND SO MUCH!" I shouted through my panting. "FUCK ME! GET YOUR PECKER IN AND FUCK ME! NOW!" I lost track of time. My body churned with hunger for his cock and I continued to plead.
At last, when I was beside myself with frustrated desire, he let go of my clitoris and seized my waist. He raised me until his beautiful cock stood like a mast under my cunt. And he let me down on it, guiding me and letting me engulf the hot meat. I slid down the rigid shaft, watching with fascinated awe as the huge cylinder disappeared into me. And I groaned a guttural groan of pleasure as I felt the thick cockhead snuggle into the core of my belly.
The deep penetration and choking fullness at my cunt turned me into a savage. I jerked my thighs into powerful, ferocious action, flinging myself up the length of the stiff cock and dropping back on it in glorious, gut churning plunges. My ass slapped my son's thighs and his belly and made him grunt with every blow.
"HONEY!" My voice was hoarse, and the word jerked out explosively. "QUICK! UNTIE MY HANDS!"
He jerked the knot loose and I grabbed his knees, bending forward to give my hips greater mobility. Rolf groaned and slid one hand under my jerking belly and the other against my chest, above my boobies. He was taking advantage of every possible zone of contact, I told myself as he leaned over me so I struck his chest in my upward thrusts. He clearly wanted to extract every last drop of thrill from this fucking.
I drew a great, sobbing breath of surprise when he lurched to his feet. His hands supported my torso in a horizontal position, jutting out from him as if I Were dangling on the spear that was his cock. And he walked, each step jolting me, and swung me over the back of the armchair so my lower belly lay on it. When he removed his hands from under me I fell forward, ass up, head touching the seat cushion.
And Rolf began fucking with all the vigor he could muster. He clamped his big hands on my hips and pinned me tightly to the top of the chair back. His hips smashed back and forth and his cock blasted me brutally. When I thought he would surely come, he slowed the pounding and panted noisily.
"Jeez, Mom! Oh, what a tremendous feeling! I wish it never would end!"
"ROLF! ROLF, HONEY! DON'T STOP! FUCK, FOR GOD'S SAKE!"
But he lifted his legs out of the circle mine formed and, without letting his cock slip out of me, pulled first one knee then the other up so he knelt astride my ass on the back of the chair. He rode on the base of the cock that impaled me. And when he started to bounce, his entire weight drove the great piston downward.
"AGGHHH! EEEEE! NOW, NOW, NOWWW!" I yelled at the top of my voice as my own orgasm exploded in me.
"Not-yet!" Rolf grunted fiercely. "Wanta-keep-fucking-you! UNNHHH! CAN'T HOLD IT!"
His weight settled on me and his cock pulsed, his cum spewing into me in a flood of heat. I shook violently and my cunt clamped tightly on his young cock. His fingers bit into my ass and his thighs jerked against me. I held my breath while the ferocity of our climax subsided, then sighed deeply and collapsed.
"Omigod, Rolf, honey! Nobody ever fucked me that hard before!"
"I didn't know, Mom. I didn't know if it would work." He worked his legs off the back of the chair and leaned over me, lying on my ass with his cock still buried. His hands fumbled at my belly and groped until they closed on my boobies. He kneaded the inverted mounds affectionately while his belly crushed my buttocks. "I just didn't know! But I damn near fainted I came so hard!"
I felt a delicious lassitude settling over me and replied dreamily. "I came pretty hard, too, son. Pretty hard."
It was a little surprising to me, even doing as little thinking as I was, that my inverted position wasn't bothering my breathing. With my buttocks and the bony structure of my hips and thighs bearing my son's weight there wasn't anyone crushing my chest, though, and the back of the chair sloped enough so I wasn't hanging straight down. But I was utterly helpless. Rolf hadn't made any move toward letting me up and I didn't seem to have much leverage.
He chose that improbable moment to become quizzical. "You really do like to fuck, don't you, Mom?"
With the edge of my excitement blunted by such a fulfilling orgasm my urge to use the earthier words in my sexual vocabulary was gone. But I still did have a cock locked in my belly, and Rolf was young enough to escape the quick collapse of his hard-on with his climax-or maybe it was the position. Whatever it was, there was a stimulation at work I hadn't been aware of, and when he asked me that kind of loaded question and used that powerful word an amazing new surge of excitement ripped through me. I probably answered more warmly than I would have under most circumstances.
"Mmmm! Love to!"
"Didn't have a whole lot of chances while I was growing up, did you."
"You were more important, honey."
"I'm glad I get to make it up to you a little bit."
"I don't think I ever hoped you would. I got a bonus."
"It sure was over fast."
"It's always over too soon."
"Mom?"
"Hmm?"
"I was just thinking. It's still almost an hour and a half until lunch. Wouldn't you like to get that promise out of the way?"
"What promise?"
"The one you made this morning."
"ROLF! Now see here!"
Even as I reacted to his proposition he gathered my arms behind me and tied them. Without listening to my objections or noticing my struggle, he tugged his cock free, picked me up, and hoisted me onto his shoulder. Grabbing his trousers and one of the couch cushions in his free hand he carried me out of my sitting room into the arcade toward his own bedroom. I was horrified, hanging head down, to see John and Blaine in the courtyard, but they were too engrossed in their conversation to look up.
In his room, Rolf dumped me on the bed, placed my hips on the cushion, and untied my ankles. He quickly secured them in a fully spread position, then untied my wrists and finished spread-eagling me. I lay face up, my pussy upthrust by the thickness of the cushion and gaping because of the separation of my legs. Rolf at once began teasing my clitoris, and when my excitement had overcome the relaxing effect of my recent orgasm, he settled down to patient, happy caressing of my entire body.
I couldn't do anything to stop him or resist my own response. After that first warm-up, using clitoris massage, the stimulation was gentle and leisurely, but there wasn't a moment when I wasn't getting a little more excited. My son had satisfied his own initial hunger, too, and he found time to try whatever came into his imagination. He seemed fascinated by his ability to arrange me in whatever position he might think of-and in my utter inability to do anything but protest.
In the end, though, he returned me to the original spread-eagled sprawl and mounted me. And I came as hard as I had the first time, still loving the young cock and the enthusiasm that pistoned it in me as much as ever.
And I had no desire to contradict him afterward when, his sweating belly pressed to mine and each hand cradling one of my boobies, he made a prediction.
"Mom, we're going to fuck each other a lot, aren't we?"
Unless his interest could be diverted, I knew I was going to be helpless to refuse his kind of sex. Our temperaments just matched too well for me to resist him.