Copyright © 1997,  Baron Darkside.       ALL Rights Reserved

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author.  This story may be freely
distributed with this notice attached.  The author may be contacted
by writing mrdouble@mrdouble.com.


(1)  Disclaimer One:  This Is A Work Of Fiction; It Is Not True!
While Some Characters Who Appear In This Story May Be Under The Age Of
Eighteen, They Are Not Abused And No Abuse Is Intended Or Implied (If
You Disagree With My Definition Of Abuse, I'm Sorry).

(2) Disclaimer Two:   If You Are Underage (Under The Age Of Eighteen
(18)), Or In Locations That By Law,  Preclude You From Reading Sexual
Material, You Should Stop Reading This Material Now!!

(3)  Disclaimer Three:  If You Are, Now Or Have Ever Been,  Offended
By Sex, Incest Or Any Other Subject Of A Sexual Nature, Please Avoid
This Story.  (I Would Also Suggest You Seek The Services Of A
Psychologist.

(4)  Disclaimer Four:  This Is For Adults, And Contains Adult Oriented
Material.  If You Are Not An Adult, Either Chronologically, Mentally
Or Sexually, Please Do Not Read Any Further Or You Will Be Offended
(Probably).

(5)  Disclaimer Five:  The Author Of This Story Wishes To Remain
Anonymous, However I Retain All Copy Rights.



INCESTUOUS FANTASIES OF MOTHERS AND SONS
FROM THE CRYPT OF BARON daRKSIDE
Fantasy Number 63A
(The Monster Within - Part One)
A Tale of Incest by Baron DArkside


Today was the day.  He had finally made up his mind early that morning
as he lay in bed thinking of his mother.  He had decided, now was the
time.  After school and work, he would put the plan into motion.
As he walked home from work, a gentle mist cooled his face but did
nothing to calm the burning ache in his belly.  The aromatic smell of
burning wood filled the air, hinting at the nearness of Christmas, but
he barely noticed it.  His thoughts were on his mother, Rachelle.  It
seemed that he could think of little else but her lately, except for
his own irrepressible hunger.
Shivering in the cold dampness, he reviewed his plan to exorcise the
demon that was possessing his mother.  While, at the same time, he
fought to control the flood of hormones that raged through his
bloodstream.
His mother's depression was growing worse, it seemed.  When she wasn't
working at the bank, she slept.  While she seemed rational when she
was awake, she spent more and more time curled up in her bed sleeping.
She was growing more and more depressed for some reason.  He could see
it in her hollow, sunken eyes.  She seemed to be haunted by something.
Something she couldn't face.  So, she chose to escape from it in
sleep.  
Her bout with depression was forcing him to devote more and more of
his time and effort to maintaining some semblance of family life.  As
he spent more and more time cleaning, cooking, and working, he had
less and less time to seek an outlet for his overpowering need for
sexual fulfillment.  He hadn't had sex in over three months and he was
in desperate need of relief.  
This was his state of mind.  An eighteen year old male, at the peak of
his sexual need, denied release by his mother's helplessness.  Out of
this famine of carnal gratification came the idea.  He had dismissed
it as indecent and disgusting at first.  But the more he thought about
it, the better it sounded.  Finally, he was almost obsessed with it.
If she had been happy, none of it would have happened. He could
remember back when she had been happy, before his father had been
killed in a car accident.  Brent had been five when that tragedy had
struck.  Then, she had been happy again after Todd came along.  So
happy, she had married him.  The happiness lasted for a while, but
things slowly began to fall apart until finally, two years ago, he had
left.  Rachelle, only forty at that time had slowly drifted into a
state of walking depression.  She continued to work at the Interstate
Bank, as a teller.  But it seemed to be taking more and more of her
energy just to maintain the pretense of wellness.  It seemed as if
some evil demon was gnawing at her, consuming more and more of her
essence. Her reserves had been drawn down to a dangerous level.  Now,
when she wasn't working, she was sleeping.  
Brent had tried everything to pull her out of the doldrums, but
nothing worked.  Then he had found the letter.  Looking for her keys
one day, he had stumbled on the crumpled letter in the bottom of her
purse.  The letter was from the bank, and gave her thirty days to
improve, or she would be fired.  That had been a week ago, and instead
of inducing her to improve, she had only slipped deeper into the
darkness of her depression.  Something drastic was called for.
Something to shock her out of her depression.  That was why he had
finally decided to take such a grave step.
Arriving at the small, two bedroom apartment they shared, Brent
slipped inside and pulled off his slicker.  Taking it into the
bathroom, he shook it out and hung it up to dry.
Opening the medicine cabinet, he took down his mother's bottle of
sleeping pills.  Twisting the cap off, he poured two of the tiny,
white tablets out into his palm.  Then, he closed the bottle and put
it back in the cabinet.  Going back into the kitchen, he sat down at
the table and carefully ground the two tablets into a fine powder.
Finally, he removed the cork of the bottle of merlot that sat on the
table.  Slowly, he drizzled the powder down into the remaining wine.
There was only three or four glasses left in the bottle as he gently
twirled it around to mix the powder into the wine.  Finished, he set
the bottle aside and got up.  
Going to the cabinet, he set about preparing supper.  He had decided
on a pasta with a delicate red sauce, bread, and wine.  A repast that
would be light, yet filling.  Soon, there was a saucepan of red sauce
bubbling on the stove.  As it simmered, it sent fragrant spumes of
steam into the air, filling the kitchen with its savory aroma.
Getting a large pot out, he filled it with water and turned the gas on
under it.  Setting the dry pasta by it, he opened the freezer and
pulled out half of a loaf of French bread.  Popping it into the
microwave, he nuked it until it was soft and flaky.  Cutting it into
slices, he spread butter and garlic over it.  He quickly slipped it
into the oven and then set the table.  Now everything was ready.
Glancing down at his watch, he saw that it was five-thirty.  His
mother would be home in thirty minutes. More or less.
Getting a bottle of white zinfandel out of the refrigerator, he poured
himself a glass.  
The apartment had a small fireplace, but they rarely used it because
of the cost of firewood.  But tonight, he had splurged and bought a
bundle of firewood out of his wages from working at the grocery store.
Mrs. Cline had sensed that tonight was somehow special and had even
given him a discount on the wood.  There was enough wood to last for
three or four hours, more than enough time for what he had planned.
Taking some of the wood out of the bundle, he crumpled paper under it
and soon had a cheery little fire going in the small fireplace.  
Just about everything was ready and in place.  All he needed now was
the key player in the melodrama.  The heroine.  Walking over to the
window, Brent parted the curtain ever so slightly.  Looking out into
the growing darkness, he waited, slowly sipping on the glass of wine.
The soft drizzle still fell, giving everything a fuzzy, out of focus
surrealism.
It was curious, but their roles had somehow gotten reversed.  Standing
looking out the window, he envisaged himself as a parent waiting for
his child to return from a date.  Would she be late?  How had it gone?
Had she gotten into more trouble?  Would she be grumpy when she got
home?  Maybe something had happened to drive her out of her depressed
state.
Finally a small, diminutive figure rounded the corner.  It was his
mother.  Huddled against the cold and drizzle, she slowly made her way
up the street toward their apartment.  The way she walked, Brent knew
that nothing had changed.  She reminded him of a whipped dog, slinking
home with her tail between her legs.  She looked beaten and cowed as
she slowly trudged up the street.  A tear trickled down his cheek as
he watched her.  He loved her so much.  He would do anything to make
her happy, again.  Anything.  He couldn't explain the feeling in his
heart.  It ached.  Seeing her so depressed was almost too much to
bear.  Finally, he wiped the tear away and turned away from the
window.  What kind of god would put her through this, he wondered as
he skulked over to the stove.  
Picking up the pasta, he dumped it into the boiling water.  Then,
putting on a fake smile, he turned and faced the door.
He heard the rattle of her keys in the lock and then the door slowly
opened.
"Oh, Brent, Baby, I am so happy to see you," she smiled tiredly when
she saw him standing at the stove.
"I missed you, too, Mom," he smiled back at her stepping over and
helping her out of her coat.
"What a day," she complained, as Brent carried her soaked coat into
the shower.
"I'm sorry you had such a bad day," he yelled as he hung her coat by
his slicker.
"God, you don't know how wonderful it feels to be with someone who
cares about you," she told him as he came back into the kitchen.
Before he had a chance to do anything, she took him in her arms and
gave him a long, affectionate hug.
"Thank you for being here for me," she whispered to him, "sometimes I
think you are the only thing keeping me from going crazy."
"Aw, Mom," he blushed, "you know I love you."
"Yes, I do," she smiled, stepping back away from him.  "And I love
you, too."
"Oh, Honey, you are such an angel," she murmured, "you didn't have to
fix supper."
"Mom," he grumbled, "you know I fix supper for you every night.  You
work hard at your job."
"But what about your life?" she asked him tiredly, walking over to the
sink and turning on the water, "Don't you think I want you to have a
life, too?"
"Don't worry about me, Mom."
As she stood at the sink washing her hands, Brent wanted to take her
in his arms and just hold her.  Tell her that everything would be
okay.  He would take care of her.  All she needed to do was get over
her depression.
"In fact, since you are so worried about my social life," he laughed
deceitfully, "I have a planned a grand evening for us."
"Oh," she smiled again, turning and facing him as she dried her hands
Her face, usually pale and smooth, was flushed from her walk in the
rain.
"What kind of plans?"
"Pasta, some bread, a little wine," he said with a flourish, pointing
to the stove.
 "And then you can sit in front of the fire while I give you a
massage."
"Thank you."
"If only," she said, her voice trailing off as she gazed at him.
"If only what?" He laughed innocuously.
"If only I could find a man that was as caring and considerate as
you," she said softly, "I would marry him in a heartbeat."
"Why?" He asked, "when you have me."
"Yes, but," she trailed off again.
"But, what?"
"Nothing, I was foolish to even think it."
"What?"
"Nothing, dear, but one day you are going to make some woman an
absolutely wonderful husband."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, and I can only wish that I could find someone as caring and
sensitive as you."
"You will, Mom, just you wait and see."
"Sure," she smiled bitterly, "I am sure I will."
"You'll see," he said.
"Supper will be ready when you are," he told her walking over to the
stove and stirring the sauce.
"Give me a few minutes to catch my breath," she sighed, turning and
looking out the window at the soft, gentle rain falling outside.
Brent stood at the stove watching her as he stirred the bubbling
sauce.
Her legs beautiful and shapely arched down below the short skirt she
wore.  Her legs were made for high heels, he thought admiring them.
While she stood only five-foot four or five in heels, her striking
legs gave one the impression she was much taller.  Long and
sculptured, they seemed to go on forever before they disappeared up
under the hem of her skirt.
As he stood appreciating the beauty of her legs, she unbuttoned her
double breasted suit jacket and stepped back away from the sink.
"I'm going to freshen up a little before supper," she smiled, reaching
up to the tight bun of hair sitting atop her head.
"Sure," he smiled, watching her walk across the room and listening to
the clack of her high heels on the linoleum.  His eyes quickly found
the soft swell of her breasts jutting out against the white satin
material of her blouse as she walked toward him.  He watched them
jiggle softly with each step as she held her arms up working to loosen
the tight nest of tawny gold perched atop her head.
Like a cat, small and slinky, she past him.  As she did, his eyes
dipped down to the pleasing swell of her hips.  Full and rounded, her
hips swayed gently from side to side.  She filled out her skirt
beautifully, he lecherously thought to himself.
Turning his attention back to the twisting, churning pasta, he watched
it for several moments. It reminded him of his state of mind.
Flustered, he wondered if he should go on.  Was he going crazy?  Maybe
he was the one with the real problem, not her.  But he knew inside,
the predicament they were in involved both of them.  He had to do
something to stop the death spiral he and his mother were caught up
in.  Something had to be done.
Stirring the sauce, he wondered.  Was there another way?  Another way
to solve their dilemma?  She sounded so lonely.  But her definition of
lonely might be different from his.  To him, lonely meant the absence
of sharing sex with someone.  Probably from the female side, it meant
the lack of someone to talk to, to share things with, just to be with
someone.  But, he was there for her.  He was there for her to talk to,
share things with and be with, so there had to be more to her
loneliness.  Maybe she needed the intimacy of another kind of love, a
different love than the one they now shared.  A truly intimacy that
came only when two people shared everything.  Even their bodies.  He
and his mother loved each other.  About this, there was no doubt.  But
could they share this final bond?  Would it fuse their souls into a
marriage of love, or would it tear them apart? He had always felt
their love could transcend any adversity, but he was dangerously
putting it to the ultimate challenge.
"I'm back," he heard her say.
Startled out of his reverie, he turned and saw her standing by the
table.  She had taken off her suit jacket and her heels.  Her long,
flaxen hair now cascaded down over her shoulders like a dark, tawny
waterfall.  She looked like a little child standing there.  Lost and
forlorn.
"Feels good to let my hair down," she smiled.
"Looks good, too," he complemented her.  "Have a seat and I'll serve
you."
"You are such a darling," she smiled, sitting down and pouring herself
a glass of the tainted wine.  "Whatever would I do without you?"
"Maybe you'll never have to find out," he said almost under his
breath, knowing that the inference might be too obvious.
"Promises, promises," she sighed, quickly gulping down the glass of
wine.
Brent felt a finger of fright tickle his belly as he watched her
refill her glass.  What if she fell asleep at the table?
"Uh, Mom, take it easy on the wine or you won't enjoy supper."
"Okay," she murmured.
He quickly set her plate of pasta in front of her.  Looking down at
the plate of pasta with little tufts of steam rising from it, she
smiled.  
Happy to see she was pleased, Brent quickly fixed his own plate and
sat down with her.
"Aren't you hungry?" He asked as he watched her daintily pick at her
dish.
"I'm sorry, Hon," she murmured softly, "I'm just not hungry."
"That's okay," he told her, refilling her glass with wine.
"Why don't you go in and enjoy the fire while I clean up," he smiled.
"You are a darling," she sighed, slowly getting up and tiredly padding
out of the kitchen in her stocking feet.
He quickly cleared the table and stuffed the leftovers into the
refrigerator.  Picking up the almost empty bottle of merlot, he joined
his mother in the living room.
"Oh, My, Baby is here," she smiled sleepily as he sat down beside her
on the couch.
"Are you okay?"
"Just a little sleepy, is all."
"Well, why don't you just relax and I'll rub your feet."
"Love to."
He gently lifted her feet up into his lap.  He began to gently rub and
massage her small, soft feet as she stared longingly into the fire.
Listening to the faint crackle and pop of the wood in the fireplace,
he reveled in the feel of his fingers gliding over the soft silkiness
of her hose.
"Here, Mom, finish the last of the wine," he told her as she took the
last sip from her glass.
"Kay," she agreed.
Tipping the bottle up, he emptied it into her glass.
"Tates good," she cooed tipsily.
Slowly rubbing her feet, Brent felt the muscles in her legs slowly
relaxing.
"Don't spill the wine," he warned her as he saw her head begin to nod.
"Won't."
"Drink it all up, Mom," he urged her, seeing her head nod a second
time.
"Huh, uh, okay," she mumbled sleepily, turning the glass up and
draining it.
Most of the wine went into her mouth, but some of it spilled out and
dripped down her chin onto her white satin blouse.  
"Whoops," she laughed drunkenly.
"Give me the glass, Mom," he told her, reaching over and taking it
from her.
"Tank ya," she garbled.
"Its okay, just relax and enjoy, Mom,"
"Kay."
Brent gently rubbed her feet for several minutes.
"So Lonely," he heard her mumble as her chin slowly nodded down onto
her chest.
"Mom," he said, "can you hear me?"
There was no response from her.
"Mom, can you hear me?" he said, louder, gently shaking her shoulder.
There was still no response from her.
"MOM, CAN YOU HEAR ME?
Nothing.
Slowly, he moved his hand up her leg.  Over the slight knob of her
ankle. Nothing.  Up the tapered swell of her calf.  Still no movement
from her.  His fingers delicately skimmed over her knee, but still she
didn't move.
Then he tickled the sole of her foot with his other hand.  She was
always ticklish there, but now it had no effect.  She was definitely
out of it.
Slowly, Brent eased out from under her feet, easing them back down
onto the couch.  Picking up his glass of wine, he took a sip as he
walked over to the window.  Looking out, he saw that the mist had
given way to fog.  He could scarcely see across the street now.  The
whole world seemed to be was closing in on him.  Standing there,
looking out into the blurred night, he wondered if it was an omen.
Everything in his life now seemed fuzzy and out of focus.  What was he
doing?  He knew that he was about to do something from which he
couldn't recant.  Once he had stepped over that line, he was doomed to
the fate he had chosen.  No one could ever expunge the act from his
past.  The fever in his mind was burning out of control and the fire
in his loin raged higher and higher.
Tossing the last swallow wine down, he turned and looked at his mother
sprawled out on the couch.
In his eyes, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
In sleep, her cherubic face didn't show the lines of stress that were
there when she was awake.  Now she seemed at peace with her world.    
His feet felt like they were nailed to the floor. Straining, he was
finally able to take a step back toward the couch.  Now it seemed as
if his feet were mired in cement as he slowly trudged to the couch.
Stopping, he paused to let his conscience present its final argument.
But the verdict was already in and he slowly reached down and gently
lifted his mother into his arms.  She seemed as light as a feather as
he held her in his arms.  She didn't move as he carried her into his
bedroom.
Bending down, he let her slip from his arms onto the bed.  Looking
down at her, he realized that the demon inside his head had lied to
him.  His concern about his mother's condition had only been a ruse.
Now the only thing that mattered was the gratification of the monster
down below his waist.  
He had watched his mother spiral deeper down into her depression every
day.  As he had, it had called for him to expend more and more energy
to protect her from the outside world and herself.  He had gotten
caught up in the whorl of emotions that swirled around them like some
evil, consuming tornado.  The more depressed she became, the more
dominant he had become.  With dominance came power.  Now, he, as her
protector, he found himself unable to save her from his own
indecencies.  The tornadic chaos of love and desire had drawn him into
its fatal influence.  Now he knew he had no power to stop his headlong
rush from maternal love down the path to the forbidden love, the
illicit love, the Incestual love of a boy for his mother.  He had to
extinguish the fires that burned in his groin no matter what the
consequences.  Even if it drove his mother insane in the process.  
Tears ran down his cheeks as he slowly began to unbutton her blouse.
With fingers numbed by desire, he fumbled and struggled with each
button.  One by one, the buttons slipped out of their button holes,
until at last, her blouse was unbuttoned.
He stopped and wiped the tears from his cheek.
Then, breathlessly he deliberately spread the white satin blouse open.
Below it, a frilly, lace brassiere covered her breasts.  Her breasts,
soft and white were girdled inside a lacy white demi-bra.  The
brassiere cradled the base of her breasts, forcing the soft, pliant
flesh up and together.  The flowery design on the bra stopped just
above her areola, leaving the sloping swell of the top of her breasts
bare.  Running his eyes over her brassiere, he saw that the closure of
her brassiere was in the front, between her breasts and covered with a
tiny, ribbon bowtie.  
Like a child on Christmas morning, he tentatively fingered the clasp.
With bated breath, he slowly eased the clasp open.  As he did, the bra
sprang apart.  Tremulously, he lifted the halves of lace and
embroidery and lifted them away from her breasts.
Her breasts were beautiful.  It was difficult to tell their actual
size because she was lying on her back, but it wouldn't have mattered
what size they were.  He just sat there letting his eyes roam over
them, drinking in their beauty.  From the rising slope of the top down
to the soft, swollen bulge of flesh below.  They weren't large and age
had stolen most of their jut, but they were still beautiful in his
eyes.  The dainty areola was a pretty pink, almost a shocking pink in
comparison to the dusky darkness of most women her age, he thought.
At least in all of the pictures he had seen of older women, they had
dark cups of flesh surrounding their nipples.  And her nipples were
small, round pink little pearls of flesh.  With a trembling finger, he
gently touched one delicate fleshy pea.  It was soft and springy to
the touch and sent sparks of excitement tingling through his finger. 
He gently cupped both of her breasts, reveling in their soft
resiliency.  The indecent excitement of fondling his mother's
beautiful breasts was sending shock waves through his painfully
throbbing cock.  
Standing up and backing away from the bed, he quickly stripped his
shirt off.  Then he fumbled with his belt buckle.  It seemed to take
forever to get it unbuckled.  With fingers deadened by excitement, he
frantically unsnapped his pants and jerked the zipper down.  Hooking
his thumbs under his pants, he furiously shoved his pants and shorts
down, freeing his rigid cock.  It sprang forward in all of its glory.
A full, hard seven inches of granite maleness, ripe and charged with
impatience.  
Afraid to touch it for fear it would explode in his hand, he hastily
kicked his pants and short off and then toed his shoes and socks off.

Shivering with urgency, he leaned down and slipped one hand under his
mother's back.  Gently lifting her upper torso, he quickly peeled her
blouse and brassiere of one shoulder and then the other.  As he
lowered her back to the bed, he watched her soft breasts wiggle and
undulate sexily, flicking the little ball nipple back and forth lazily
as it did.
The monster below was growing more and more impatient as he fumbled
with the catch of her short, clinging skirt.  It took several moments,
but it finally popped open.  Anxiously, he inched her dress down her
beautifully tapered legs.  Down her soft, creamy thighs, over her
lovely rounded knees, down over the swell of her calves, past the
taper of her pretty ankles and finally over her small, dainty feet.
Dropping it to the floor, he could now see the triangle of golden
curls matted down at the base of her stomach underneath the sheer,
silkiness of her panty hose.  Another blast of fiery fervor scorched
his cock and balls and he ogled the forbidden valley of her womanhood.
Now only one last barrier lay between him and the object of his
desire, he thought as he gently eased his fingers under the tight,
cleaving waistband of her pantyhose.  Ever so delicately, he peeled
the clinging, silky hose down off the tumescence of her belly.  Softly
rounded by age and lack of exercise, her belly quivered and jiggled
slightly as he slipped the hose down around her hips.  Now the patch
of soft, golden curls covering her womanhood was bared.  Shivering at
the erotic gravity of the moment, he pulled the stretchy, clingy nylon
lower and lower until at last, he slipped the shriveled expanse of
nylon off over her feet.
Dropping her hose, he leaned back.  She was naked.  His mother was
lying before him completely unclothed.  Nude.  Stripped.  Defenseless
and vulnerable.  Gulping loudly, trying to swallow the lump in his
throat, he stared down at her.  Her beauty was even more radiant now
that it was openly displayed.  It almost took his breath away.
Gently, he reached down and lovingly caressed her soft, downy thigh.
Her skin was soft and warm to the touch.  His cock was bobbing up and
down dangerously as he slowly slid his hands down between her shapely
legs.
Another shiver of expectancy shook his body as he deliberately began
easing her legs apart.  Inch by inch, he spread them wider and wider
as he gazed down at the spectacle unfolding before his eyes.  At
first, the fold of soft, pink flesh nestled in the center of the
forest of soft, golden hairs was just a long, fold of pink flesh.
Then as her legs slowly parted, the fleshy gash between her legs began
to open.  Like a beautiful pink rose blossom, her womanhood slowly
unfolded itself revealing the delicate softness inside the thick,
bloated lips encircling it.  
Brent could only stare at the exquisite gorge of delicate, pink flesh
glistening in the soft light of the room.  His mouth went dry and his
heart began to pound so furiously, he thought it would burst from his
chest at any moment.  Or, it would just stop working.  Never, had he
felt such erotic desire.  Now the beautiful fleshy wound of her vagina
gaped open, fully unfurled for his scrutiny.  Mindlessly, he felt
himself being drawn down toward it by some irresistible attraction.
He was powerless to resist its captivating enticement.
Crawling up on the bed, he never took his eyes off the delicate, pink
chasm of flesh between her legs.  Slowly, he knelt down between her
soft, inner thighs.  Now his face was only inches from the very core
of her womanhood.  Inhaling deeply through his nose, he groveled in
the heavy musk of her sex as it floated up from her exposed
femininity.  Another shudder of perversity ran through his body as he
gradually inched closer and closer to the hot, glistening gate to her
forbidden sanctuary.  Now he could feel the hot, damp heat radiating
from it as he opened his mouth.  Tentatively, he gently ran his tongue
over the soft, limp lips of her womanhood for several seconds.  Then,
he inched his tongue higher, tenderly probing the soft, fleshy cave
that concealed her clitoris.  Then he felt an almost imperceptible
shiver of her hips as the tip of his tongue found the hard little knot
of her clitoris.
A shock shot through his body as he jerked his head up away from her
crotch.  Looking up at her face, he could detect no difference in her
appearance.  She still lay with her mouth open slightly, softly
wheezing as she slept.
Relieved, he slowly lowered his mouth back down to the fleshy gash of
her vagina, exulting in the raw aroma of her sex.
Ablaze with desire, he pushed his face down into the hot, wetness of
her vagina.  Rubbing his face in her sex, he lapped at her wet
sweetness.  Round and round, he ground his face into her pussy never
wanting to stop.  Finally, to catch his breath, he lifted his face up
from the hot wetness of her womanhood.  He could feel the warm
stickiness of her wetness coating his face from his chin up to his
nose.
His very psyche was reeking of her sex as he rose to his hands and
knees above her.  Looking down, he saw his thick, heavy cock bounce up
and down malignantly above the wet, waiting opening of his mother's
vagina.
The final moments crept by.  The time was at hand.  He could feel the
passion coursing through him as he prepared to desecrate the temple of
his creation.  Reaching down, he delicately wrapped his hand around
the barrel of his loaded gun.  His emotions were running unbridled and
he could already feel the precursory tickle of an imminent upheaval in
his scrotum.  Crazily, he slowly forced his unrelenting hardness down
toward the waiting grave of his innocence.
Then he felt the great swollen head of his cock touch the soft, limp
folds of flesh surrounding her pussy.  Ever so gently, he drug the
head of his cock up and down the slippery furrow of her sex.  
All thoughts of bringing her out of her depression were now gone.
Only one thing mattered.  His own liberation from the spell cast by
the monster he held in his hand.  It had to gorge itself on her flesh,
the flesh of his own mother to satiate its disgusting craving.
The head of his cock was soon coated with the warm juices of her
womanhood.  He was ready as she unwittingly waited to accept him in
unholy matrimony.  Slowly, gently he began the consummation of their
incestuous marriage as he slipped the hot, throbbing, head of his
penis down into her flaming, burning ring of fire. The soft, clinging
heat of her vagina slowly enveloped his hard, thrusting maleness as he
gently, lovingly eased it down into her inch by painful inch.  
Looking down into her face, he could see no hint of consciousness.
She continued to sleep the sleep of the dead.
Calling on the last vestiges of his will power, he fought to contain
the growing  urgency in his balls.  The writhing, bubbling reservoir
of semen was threatening to boil over at any second as he continued to
ease his cock down into her.  He had never felt such passion.  It was
as if his whole body was sliding down into her tight, sucking cunt.
While the depraved excitement coursing through his body magnified his
cock to the size of King Kong's huge cock, his mother's vagina became
a bottomless pit of hot, simmering meat.  Deeper and deeper into the
forbidden depths of her pussy and depravity knifed his cock.  The
battle to control his eruption was growing futile.  It was like trying
to hold back a tidal wave of frothing, boiling manlava.  
Then his heavy, full balls touched the soft valley of her upturned
buttocks.  As they did, he felt his belly grind down onto her soft,
yielding belly.  He was totally immersed inside her holiest of holies.
They were one.  He was completely buried inside the churning, burning
garden of his creator.  He was inside his mother.
It came boiling out of his loin like an eruption of flesh-eating lava.
It tore through his cock, blistering the delicate tissue inside as it
gushed forth.
"GGGGAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWDDDDDDDD!" he screamed as a gigantic geyser of
white-hot semen spurted out of his convulsing penis into the tight,
clutching confines of her vagina.  Then he felt a ripple of movement
course through her cunt as her autonomic nervous system fired off.
Staring down at her face, he didn't see any hint of consciousness as
his cock bucked and sent a second gusher of frothy cum spewing out
into her.  As the walls of her vagina were bathed with the
incandescent heat of his semen, her cunt clutched at him, milking him.
Even unconscious, her sexuality exhibited itself through the
involuntary embrace of her cunt on his penis.  The past, present, and
future poured out of his jerking, spurting penis.  Life ceased to
exist.  He was one, giant, spouting, exploding penis spilling out its
deadly seed onto the fleshy garden that had once nourished him.  There
would be no need for further life, if he could impregnate her in this
one, glorified blast of unbridled passion.  Recreated within his
mother's womb, he could want for no more.  He must empty himself into
the fiery recesses of his creator.  Fill her fertile loins with his
seed laden milt.  Then as he his cannon recoiled and fired its last
broadside into her, he felt the overflow gush out of her.  It spewed
out, running down and coating his dangling balls with his own hot goo.

Then the room grew dark and he felt himself being pulled down.  His
whole body was being sucked down into his mother's hot, whorling hole.
Suddenly, he was immersed in darkness.  For a moment, he had no
feeling.  Then he found himself swimming in a great pool of sex.
Flicking his long reptilian tail, he swam and searched the dark waters
for her signal.  Suddenly, he became aware of the others.  Hundreds,
thousands, millions of them, just like him.  All searching for the one
Her.  But, he had to be the one to impale her.  The one to drive his
barbed manhood deep into the ovarian core of her essence and join with
her to create anew.  Then he sensed it. At first only a faint whiff of
her acquiescence.  Whipping his tail angrily, he searched the seas for
the musky trail of her cry to him.  Then it came to him, stronger and
more powerful.  Like a siren song, it drew him to her.  Closer and
closer.  Then he saw her...
With a start, Brent awoke.  He was sweating profusely.  He was still
atop his mother with her warm, softness cushioning his body.  He
realized that they were no longer one, though.  His cock, shriveled
and shrunken had slipped out of her and now limply hung down between
her soft, smooth thighs.  Grunting, he rolled off her.  There was no
indication that she was alive except for the steady, even rise and
fall of her chest.
Reaching out, he gently shook her shoulder, watching her small, soft
breasts quiver like bowls of pink Jell-O.  She didn't move.
Rolling over, he sat up.  Looking at his watch, he saw that it was
four o'clock.  Getting up, he padded into the bathroom.  Standing at
the commode, he aimed his flaccid prick down at the round hole and
began to pee.  In the quiet stillness of the apartment, the sound of
his urine splashing into the water was almost deafening.  
Finished, he headed back toward his bedroom, stopping to look out a
window.  The fog was even thicker than it was earlier.  Not
surprising, no one was stirring in the early morning stillness.
Looking out into the living room, he saw that the fire was gone in the
fireplace leaving only a few glowing coals.  Then he saw their clothes
strown all over the couch and floor.  He quickly gathered them up and
folded his mother's.  Taking them to her room, he laid them down on
her dresser.
Returning to his bedroom, he saw that his mother still hadn't moved.
She still lay on her back with her legs spread wide apart as if
waiting for the return of her lover.  His eyes were immediately drawn
down to the great, gaping wound between her legs.  He felt another
tickle of excitement sparkle through his penis.  Crawling up on the
bed, he sat down between her outstretched legs.  He could feel his
maleness slowly growing hard as he stared down at the weeping gash of
soft, pink flesh dissecting softness of her underbelly.  
The earlier violation of her sanctity had only heightened his need for
her.  He was now totally and hopelessly addicted to the elation of
pleasure and power he had experienced.  Salivating at the thought of
possessing her a second time, he slowly stroked himself to hardness.  
Hard and ripe once again, he scrambled up to his hands and knees.
Quickly shuffling up between the soft whiteness of her long legs, he
took hold of his jutting malignancy and guided it down to the drooling
opening of her sex.  Shivering with a flush of pleasure, he eagerly
slid his rigid manhood down into her hot wetness.  
Thrusting into her, he drove himself into her all the way to the hilt.
Once buried inside of her, he held himself motionless, deep inside the
simmering, steamy core of her femininity.  The aphrodisiac of power
was driving him mad with passion as he willfully imposed his will on
her once again  She was completely defenseless against his attack.
Leering to himself, he slowly began to slide his cock in and out of
her vulnerability.  Locking his elbows, he hovered above her, rocking
his hips back and forth, fucking her with long, deep strokes.  Driving
himself all the way up to the hilt with every powerful thrust, he
gloried in the soft heat of her clutching, clinging cunt.
In and out, in and out, he plowed her fertile garden with his staff
feeling the growing tension inside his swinging testicles as they
slapped against her soft, warm buttocks.  The bed rocked wildly under
them as he roughly fucked her.
It was almost too much to fathom.  He was fucking his mother for the
second time.  But as he did, down deep inside, he felt guilt begin to
eat at him.  Still it didn't stop him from pounding his cock into her
again and again.  Slowly the crescendo of excitement grew and he felt
the pre-ejaculatory tickle emanating from his swinging balls.  Panting
and gasping for breath, he fucked her harder and harder.  Her body was
sloshing back and forth like dead meat under his attack.
He clawed his way closer and closer to the summit until at last he
growled out in exultation.
"FUUUKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!", he groaned as his hips lurched forward
driving his spurting cock deep inside of her.
Once again, her sacred temple was filled with his thick potency as his
prick jerked and spewed out thick, gummy gobs of cum into her.  Time
after time, it lurched and spit out its lethal load into her.  As
before, she was soon overflowing with his glutinous virility.  Even
then, his cock continued to hammer away at her. 
 Finally, his cock shuddered and stopped firing off inside her.  
Within seconds, he felt his cock begin to shrivel and shrink back down
the drenched channel of her womanhood.  He had filled her delightful
chamber for the second time.
Shamefully, he slowly pulled his cock out of her and rolled away from
her.  What kind of monster fucks his mother while she is drugged, he
asked himself.  In the cold, glare of post-coital apathy, he knew he
had committed a grievous sin.  He had committed the evilest of evils.
He had desecrated his own birthplace.  He had planted  his own
poisonous seeds in the forbidden garden.  He had eaten of the
forbidden fruit and was now filled with shame and disgust.  
Tears swelled from his eyes as he began to cry.  His sobs shook the
bed as he cried out his pain and disgrace.  Still his mother slept as
he cried himself to sleep beside her.
He awoke with a start.  As he slowly opened his eyes, he saw that his
room was filled with soft, hazy light.  The fog must still be hanging
on, he thought dully.  Stretching, his hand brushed up against warmth.
What? Then he remembered.  Oh, God.  He had really done it.  He had
fucked his mother.  No, he had raped her.  It had been the same as
rape.  She had been powerless to stop him.  Now he would have to pay
for his heinous crime.  Slowly, he turned his head toward her.  
Her iridescent blue eyes stared at him with glassy-eyed incredulity.
"What have you done?" she whispered, her voice quavering as her
beautiful face twisted in anguish...


Fantasy Number 63B
(The Monster Within - Part Two)


"You don't remember..." He croaked, trying to think up a defense for
what he had done.
"No, I don't..." She wept.
"The wine.  You were lonely," he mumbled dumbly.
"And then, you, we..." She sobbed.
"I'm sorry," was all he could think to say.
"And you're sorry," she whimpered, "you're sorry."
Suddenly his alarm clock went off startling both of them.
"Oh, no, I'm going to be late for work," he blurted out, throwing the
covers back, rolling out of bed, and flicking the alarm off.
Anything to extract himself from the macabre scene in which he found
himself playing the key role.
"And you're worried about being late for work," she groaned.
"I'm sorry," he muttered again, wishing there was something else to
say.
"Brent," she whispered.
Hearing her say his name, he stopped and turned to face her.  Standing
by the bed, he wished he could undo what he had so heartlessly done.
But he couldn't.  He felt terrible as he stood by the bed looking down
at her. She looked like a little, lost girl lying there with the
covers pulled up around her chin.  Then he saw her tear filled eyes
flick downward.  Suddenly it dawned on him. He was still naked.  
What a fool, he was.  She must think he was a cold-blooded rapist.
Not only that, he was even flaunting the weapon he had used in front
of her face.
He started to move his hand to cover his dangling cock, but stopped
when he saw her eyes widen as she stared at it.
She continued to openly gawk at his drooping manhood.  As she did, he
felt an adrenaline flush spread over his body.  Then he felt his penis
growing heavy as it began to swell and become engorged with blood.
Her mouth slowly dropped open as his cock grew.  Thickening and
expanding, it slowly lifted its puffy, swollen head
"Oh, my God," she gasped.
Groaning with shame, Brent spun around.  As he did, his erect, jutting
cock slashed the air like a rapier.
"I'm sorry," he muttered again, stumbling across the room.
Sobbing like a baby, he gathered up his clothes.  With tears running
down his cheeks, he threw his clothes on and rushed out of the
apartment without even bothering to tell her good-bye.  Somehow, he
didn't feel that would be appropriate this most  ruinous of mornings.
Arriving at work, he began what was to become the longest day of his
life.  His mind was in a turmoil.  He couldn't concentrate.  He kept
picturing the look in his mother's eyes.  Filled with remorse and
regret, he bumbled through the day.  It soon became obvious to Mrs.
Cline that his mind was somewhere else.  She must have asked him seven
or eight times what was wrong.  Finally, she wanted to know if he was
coming down with something.  He told her he didn't know and she told
him that he was of no use at the store in the shape he was in.  Then
she sent him home. 
Hanging up his work apron, he slipped his jacket on and skulked out of
the grocery store like a whipped dog.  Outside, it was dark and
dismal, echoing his own mood.  Now he had to go home and face his
mother.  What a fool he had been.  If he could only go back
twenty-four hours.  None of it would have happened.  Guilt and dread
clutched at his stomach, sickening him as he turned the final corner
leading to his home.  Shivering in the cold, he stopped under the
street light and looked down the street. Funny, he thought, but there
was smoke coming out of the chimney of their apartment.  Not ha-ha
funny, just strange.  It was something he hadn't expected.  In his
heart of hearts, he pictured his mother sitting around crying all day
long.  Building a fire connoted a degree of normalcy. He had assumed
his mother wouldn't be capable of anything so complicated in her state
of mind.  Stranger still was the odd flickering glow emanating from
the living room window.  His mom usually had every light in the house
on when she was home alone.
Uncertain of what awaited him inside the apartment, he slowly trudged
up the street.
Slipping his key into the door, he turned the knob and eased the door
open.
The heavy, sweet-scented smell of burning candles filled his nostrils
as he quietly stepped inside.
"Brent, I'm in the living room," he heard his mother say.
"Uh, okay, uh, be there in a minute," he stammered, barely able to see
in the darkness of the kitchen,  "after I wash my hands."
Stalling, putting off the confrontation as long as he could, he
stopped at the sink and turned the water on.
Washing his hands, he could see a soft glow filtering through the
doorway from the other room.
"Brent?"
"Uh, coming," he grimaced, turning the water off and drying his hands.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to put a smile on his face as he
plodded over to the doorway between the two rooms.
His jaw dropped as he looked into the living room.
Like some scene from some devil worship movie, the only light in the
room came from burning, flickering candles.  They were everywhere.
 But the most shocking sight was his mother.
She sat on the couch wearing a sheer, softly flowing gown that
caressed her body, giving the illusion of concealment, while at the
same time, hinting at the suggestion of sexy unmentionables hidden
underneath it. She had her long, elegant legs crossed and was
rhythmically bouncing one dainty foot, encased inside a sexy, glossy
white, high heeled pump. Up and down, up and down, it bobbed as she
gave him a dark, smoldering look.  Averting his eyes down away from
hers, he found his eye drawn down to the glittering white pump as it
leisurely rose and fell. With every kick of her foot, the hem of her
gown rustled softly above the delicate, thin strap of white leather
encircling her graceful ankle.  Up and down, up and down, it gently
rocked, hypnotizing him.
 "Are you okay?" He heard his mother's voice come to him through the
deafening roar in his ears. 
"Huh, uh, what?" he mumbled, trying to clear his head.
"Are you okay?" She asked him again.  "You look confused."
"I, uh, you, you aren't mad at me," he stammered.
"Mad?" she smiled cryptically.
"Uh, you're not mad?" he ventured again.
"I was, a little, when I first woke up and realized what you had done
to me."
"Mother, I am so sorry," he blubbered.
"But probably not for the reason you think," she smiled wanly.
"What, what do you mean?"
"You did what I didn't have the courage to do," she said softly.
"I've wanted to do it for the past two years."
"HUH!" He sputtered, his knees starting to wobble, "What do you..."
"But, when I woke up and found out you had done it," she frowned,
"done it to me while I slept.  I felt a little cheated."
"Cheated? But, what do you..."
"Why do you think I have been so depressed for the past two years?"
she murmured, motioning for him to sit down by her.
"Uh, I don't know," he whined, blundering toward the couch.  "I just
thought you missed Dad and Todd."
Her big, blue eyes followed him as he crossed the room.
"It's kind of complicated, but, I'll try to explain." She smiled
demurely, her full, red lips glistening wetly in the soft glow of the
candles, "At first I didn't notice how much you looked like your
father.  I loved him very, very much.  Then as you started to mature,
you began to look more and more like your father.  As you did, I found
myself being drawn to you."
"Huh."
"Yes, and the more I found myself attracted to you," she told him,
taking his hand in hers, "the less I felt toward Todd until
eventually, he sensed what was happening and left."
"You mean, you mean that he knew that you were, uh, uh, to me?" he
questioned her.
"Well, he never really came right out and admitted it," she said,
squeezing his hand gently, "but, I could see it in the way he looked
at you.  He looked on you as a competitor, not a son."
"Gosh," was all he could think to say.
"So when he left, I was left alone with you," she sighed softly, "but,
I couldn't let myself have you.  I wanted you.  You, my own son.  I
wanted my own son and It was slowly tearing me apart."
"How, what..." He sputtered.
"I felt like I was imprisoned with the man I loved," she said, taking
a deep breath, "but I couldn't have you.  I loved you totally and
completely, but I could only express a part of that love to you."
He gulped, flicking his eyes down to the jut of her breasts swell out
against the softness of her gown as she breathed deeply.
"It was just getting worse and worse," she frowned, "until I didn't
know how much longer I was going to be able to suppress my feelings.
I wanted you every waking moment."
The passion of her words and the heat of the candles was making him
sweat.  He could feel the perspiration on his forehead as it slowly
trickled down his cheek.
"Then, then, I wake to find that you had done it to me," she fussed
feebly, "while I was asleep.  I only wish our first time could have
been so different.  With so much more passion and love."
"But, but I didn't know," he blubbered innocently.
"I know," she smiled, her big, blue eyes sparkling and dilating in the
dim light as she whispered, "but, you do now."
"Oh, Jeez," he groaned as she reached out to him.
Her fingers flitted down his chest, quickly unbuttoning his shirt,
dipping lower and lower.
Soon, his shirt gaped open.  Smiling up at him, she gave his shirt
tail a slight tug and jerked it out of his pants.  Love spilled out of
her eyes as she hurriedly peeled it back over his shoulders.
"I can't believe it is finally happening," she panted softly as she
struggled with his belt buckle.
Brent was in a state of shock as he leaned back and watched her
fingers make quick work of his belt buckle.  This couldn't be
happening.  It was all some kind of sick dream, thought up by the
monster inside him.  The monster was just taunting him.  Slowly
driving him crazy with desire.  Then he would wake up.  
But it seemed real enough, he thought, watching her long, corkscrew
curls wiggle as she struggled with his buckle.
Finally, he felt the tightness around his waist go slack as a breeze
of air swept over his belly.  Then he felt the pressure on his primed
manhood as she slowly unzipped his pants.
"It was so beautiful this morning.  So big and thick," she huffed.
"I've been thinking about it all day long."
Then he breathlessly watched as she spread open his pants.  The
bulging lump in his shorts attested to his obvious excitement as she
quickly hooked her fingers under the waistbands of his pants and
shorts.
Grunting in a very unfemininely manner, she jerked downward.  He could
feel her long, pink fingernails scratch down his thighs as she tugged
his pants all the way down to his knees with one impatient yank.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," she exclaimed, her electric blue eyes widening
with excitement as his hot, thick hardness sprang free.
Aflame with passion, he watched as his heavy, hard cock began to bob
up and down impatiently.  
"God, it is beautiful," she groaned as she lovingly wrapped her soft,
warm hands around it.  
Holding it as it was made of the finest, delicate, pink alabaster, she
gently lifted it up from his quivering belly.
He could feel it throbbing with anticipation as she lightly squeezed
it.  Then she and slowly lowered her head down over it. Gently, like
the touch of a butterfly, her soft, full lips brushed the bloated,
burning head of his cock.  He had to fight to keep from erupting and
spewing his hot load into her face.
"God, Mother," he groaned.
Holding her soft, hot lips pressed down on his swollen, smooth
cockhead, she lingeringly kissed it.  Then, her lips slowly parted as
she gently sucked him into her mouth.  Insistently, she slowly took
half of his raging manhood into her mouth in one, sucking, pulling,
slurping gulp.
Deep in his balls, he felt a burning stab of urgency.  She had lit his
fuse and it was burning dangerously close to detonation.  An explosion
was imminent
Abruptly, his mother pulled her mouth up off him.  A malicious grin
twitched at the corners of her soft, red lips as she watched his
inflamed prick precariously jerk and twitch.  All at once, she rolled
off the couch and onto her hands and knees in front of him.  Like a
woman possessed, she tore the rest of his clothes off him.  Tossing
them aside, she quickly peeled her gown off and rolled over onto her
back.  She stared up at him with a wanton look in her icy blue eyes as
she lay at his feet.
Then, smiling wickedly, she slowly began to spread her legs apart as
she watched his eyes travel down her body.
Stunned by her sudden exodus, he sat on the couch staring down at her.
He was mesmerized by the lovely display of lace, nylon, and bare flesh
laid out before him.
A scanty, little, half cup brassiere lifted her round, smallish
breasts into two peaks of soft, quivering flesh.  Her small,
pearl-sized nipples jutted up in the air, hard and swollen as her
breasts were lifted and squeezed together by the lacy, red bra. Still
in a state of shock, he swept his eyes down to her soft, rounded
belly.  He suddenly felt another stinging surge of electricity slam
through his balls.  She wasn't wearing panties.
But then, he felt like he was going to pass out.  It looked like she
had shaved her pussy for him.  Staring harder, he saw that he was
right.  Her pussy was as bald as a baby's butt.  The lush forest of
kinky, golden hair that last night had hidden her womanhood was gone
leaving her pussy exposed and naked.  It was the sexiest thing he had
ever seen.  A shiver of excitement shuddered through his body as he
ogled her small, smooth, rounded mons.  Swollen and conspicuously
smooth, it made the thick, bloated lips of her vagina look huge as her
readiness softly glistened on the thick, swollen lips.
The sight was so erotically exciting, he was afraid to move.  Afraid
he would set off an eruption of the molten core of hot, boiling semen
inside his balls.
Finally, he was able to tear his eyes away from the oozing, fleshy
wound.  Visibly shaken, he swept his eyes down over her long, willowy
legs encased in silky, white, lace top, hose.  Since she didn't wear a
garter belt, he assumed the silky hose with the band of lace around
the top encircling her soft, smooth thighs with snow-white flowers
would stay up on their own.  Her long, beautifully arched legs,
covered with the shimmering white sheen of nylon swept down to her
dainty feet in the sexy high heeled pumps.  Even the tiny, thin strap
of leather circling her ankle exuded sex.  Then as he brought his eyes
back up her legs, he saw that she was beckoning for him to come to
her.
"Hurry, Baby, I need you so badly," she panted, slowly working her
hips up and down pantomiming her need for him.
Finally, he was able to pull himself up off the couch.  He fell to his
knees between her long, widespread legs.  Scrambling over her, he
hooked his arms underneath her legs and scooped them up, bending them
back down against her chest.  His slashing cock thrashed about wildly
as he thrust himself at her trying to find the hot, wet entrance to
her most sacred of treasures.  Then he felt her hand on his manhood,
pulling and guiding it down to her.  Aflame with desire, he dipped his
hips and sent his rock-hard cock stabbing down at the bulging wet,
pink gash that split her hairless mons. She had been spewing out so
much pre-fuck juice, he would probably fall inside of her if he could
ever find the slippery gate to her inner core, he thought.  As he
thrust himself down at her, she quickly guided the engorged, swollen
head of his cock into the hot, clutching socket of her womanhood.  The
instant he felt the fleshy, hot lips of her vagina envelope the head
of his aching penis, he roared and drove himself into her all the way
with all his might.  His throbbing cock slid in all the way to the
hilt.  Then his belly crashed into the soft, shaven smoothness of her
mons.  
"Oh, Fuck," she gasped.
Then like a wild enraged bull, he began to fuck her.  He pounded his
cock into her furiously, grunting and gasping for breath.  His
outrageous assault on her cunt sent her dagger heeled pumps flashing
back forth above his head as he savagely pumped his cock into her
defenseless pussy.
As he fucked her, she fought like a wildcat in heat. Clawing at his
back with her long, sharp nails, she left long, bleeding scratches
down his back every time he drove his prick into her sucking cunt.
Her legs bent back up over her shoulders left her slavering, spewing
cunt defenseless against the onslaught of his thick, hard maleness.
The large, round cylinder of rock-hard flesh slashed in and out of her
cunt effortlessly, splashing her gushing juices all over them as they
fucked like the depraved animals they had become.  This was not making
love, this was fucking.  Like two wailing, spitting wildcats, they
threw themselves at each other in carnal combat.
He could feel her urging him, coaxing him, driving him on with her
clawing hands as he drove himself into her.  Then, he felt a hot,
stinging pain erupt from his shoulder.  But, he couldn't stop.  He
only fucked her more savagely as she dug her teeth into the skin of
his shoulder.  Recoiling in pain, he felt her sharp, cutting canines
pierce his skin as she bit down on him.
Screaming like a wounded tiger, he slammed his engorged cock into her
savagely knocking her hungry mouth away from his shoulder.  
Then he began to fuck her harder and harder.
"FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK  YOUR MOTHER," she growled, clawing and
ripping at his back with her long fingernails.  
The unholy fire in their loins was now burning out of control, fusing
their bodies together in an evil and twisted consummation of their
incestuous wedlock.  Joined together as one, they groveled and writhed
on the floor fucking.
Coarse, ugly, vulgar sounds fucking sounds reverberated off the walls.
The loud, obscene, wet, slurping, slapping music of their bodies
slamming together filled their ears as they drank in the heated,
sex-filled aroma of her overheated womanhood.  The thick, musky
fragrance permeated the air.  The perfume of her smell was so thick,
they could barely breathe.
Finally with sweat dripping down off him and splashing down onto her,
Brent felt the tickling, tightening sensation in his scrotum.  He knew
an upheaval of monumental proportions was at hand. The band of pain
grew tighter and tighter until he could no longer stand it.  Suddenly,
his hips lurched forward sending his cocked cannon deep into her
slavering softness.  Then he roared out with pain and liberation as he
felt his balls explode and send their fiery load spewing out through
his jerking, twitching cock and out into his mother's hot, clutching
cunt.
"OHHHYYYEEEsssssssssss," he heard his mother babble as she began to
shake and shudder under him.
Holding his spurting, spewing manhood buried deep inside the clenching
fist of her fiery core, he emptied his hot, creamy treasure into her
spurt after fiery spurt.  Over and over again, his pumping cock jerked
and spewed out load after load of his potency until her cunt was
swimming in his potent syrup.  Then, the thick, creamy cum began to
spill out of her and drip down onto the carpet below.  
Her big blue eyes rolled back into her head leaving only the glaring
white of her  eyeballs staring up at him as she shook and groaned
underneath him.  As her body shuddered, she dug her nails even deeper
into the scratched and torn skin of his back.  
Finally, both of them came coasting down from the degenerate heights
of their Incestual culmination.  
Neither of them moved for several moments.
The wild, passionate craving for each other had been temporarily
satisfied.  But down inside that place where all emotions are born,
the monster still lived.  And it hungered for their souls.  So strong
was its hunger, it wouldn't let them rest.
"Again, again," she pleaded with him as he gently lowered her legs to
the floor.
"Yes, yes," he panted, crawling out from between her legs.
"Please, again, now," she wheezed clawing at him to impale her again.
"Yes, need you again," he grunted, quickly reaching down and
physically rolling her over onto her stomach.
Sensing that he wanted to take her from behind, she quickly struggled
up to her hands and knees.
The moment she was up, he clambered around behind her beautiful,
upturned buttocks.  As he did, she quickly spread her legs for him.
Slipping up between her soft, white thighs, he grabbed himself and
fitted his cock back into the socket of her oozing, dripping cunt.
Slowly, he began to work his hips back and forth, sliding his
resurgent manhood in and out of her.  Staring down at the soft,
rounded perfection of her ass, he lovingly ran his hands over it,
fondling and gently caressing the firm, soft globes of flesh.  Slowly,
he ran his hands up over her back to the strap of her tiny, red
brassiere.  Even as he slid himself in and out of her, he quickly
found the closure on her bra and unsnapped it.  As he did, the
brassier slipped down her arms to the floor.  As his hips pistoned
back and forth plowing her fertile fields with his mushroom headed
plow, he ran his hands down under her.  Softly caressing her smooth,
jiggling stomach, he quickly found the undulating cups of her breasts
as they swung  back and forth in beat with the steady, insistent
pounding of his cock.
"Feels good, Baby," she cooed as his fingers found her nipples and
gently toyed with them.
Then all at once, he felt her long, sharp fingernails gently tickling
his flouncing balls.  Another shudder of excitement ran through his
body as she gently grasped them, pulling on them and urging him to
fuck her faster.  Reluctantly, he let go of her breasts and slipped
his hands back up around her waist and grasped her.  Holding her
tightly in his grip, he slowly began to pull her back on his invading
weapon every time he shoved it back into her waiting wetness.  Once
again, the sound of flesh slapping against hot, wet flesh filled their
ears as the rhythm of their fucking slowly increased.  Rocking back
and forth faster and faster, he pounded his thick, glistening prick
into her drooling gash.  Drenched in her pussy juice, his battering
ram glimmered in the soft glow of the candles as he drove it in and
out of her.  Like a slow freight gaining momentum, he fucked her
faster and faster until he felt his balls begin to tighten and sting
once again.
"HurryBabyHurryBabyGonnaCumGonnaCum," she gushed out as she thrust her
hips back at him every time he sent his cock plowing into the wet heat
of her cunt.
"YESYEsYesyesyesyescummmmmmmmnnnnnnnnn," she groaned out as she began
to shake and shudder again.
Feeling her pussy clench down around his cock, he slammed himself into
her.  Letting go, he erupted in her again.  Spurt after spurt of
thick, hot, pearl-colored cum spewed out into her as he resowed her
fertile garden with his insulting potency.  Again and again, his hips
bucked and hunched into her as his cock lurched and jerked, firing
over and over inside of her until he had no more ammunition to fire.
He held himself inside of her until the final wave of his orgasm
washed over him.  Then he slowly leaned back, letting his withering
manhood slither out of the weeping, seeping gash of soft, slippery
meat between her legs.  Sitting back on his heels, he watched his cock
begin to shrivel and shrink.
"Can we again," he heard his mother ask as she turned to face him,
"it's been so long."
"But, Mom, I don't know if I can," he complained.
"Let me," she told him, slowly pushing him down onto his back.  Then
with an evil glint in her eye, she slowly descended upon his
cum-drenched mushroom.  Quickly slurping it into her mouth, she began
to suck and pull on it with such passion, he felt a trickle of
resurgence sparkle through his weary warrior.
Slowly, it struggled valiantly to rise from the dead.
Leaning back, he watched his mother suck on him.  Like a ravenous
lioness, she emerged from her own self imposed hell hungry and
ravenous.  Bending down over his impotent maleness, she first sniffed
it and then ran her tongue over it.  Then, like a victorious lioness
devouring its prey, she sucked and pulled on his flaccid, lolling slab
of meat.  Her hair, like the mane of a big male lion, spiraled down
around her face, dancing and swaying as she began to devour him.
Even her tailess behind waggled back and forth in catlike mime she
sucked him into her mouth.  As she sucked more and more of his
limpness into her mouth, he could feel her dangerous, sharp teeth
scraping along the sensitive skin of his cock.  Quickly, she consumed
more and more of him.  Finally, she had eaten all of the kill.  Her
full, rose colored lips now encircled the base of his cock.  He knew
that it would only be a short time before he was alive again as he
felt his cock begin to expand and fill her mouth.
Still, she didn't release him as he felt her tongue tickle and tease
him back to hardness.  He could almost hear her purring as she finally
let his hard, swollen man-cock slither out of her mouth.  Like some
evil pink snake emerging from its hot, wet lair, his cock crept out
between the soft petals of her lips, hard and primed.
"God, Mother," he grunted as she looked up at him and smiled, slowly
running her small pink tongue around her lips.  "You're wicked."
"Seeing another side of me," she laughed softly, "you didn't know
existed?"
"Oh, if I had only known," he murmured sadly, "all that time gone to
waste."
"We have a lot of catching up to do," she smiled lewdly.
As she spoke, she got to her knees.  Turning to face him, she stared
into his eyes with her misty blue eyes.  He felt her eyes searching,
probing for something in his mind as she slowly lifted one, long,
shimmering leg over him.  Still gazing deep into his eyes, she reached
down and found his regenerated maleness.  Smiling seductively, she
lifted him and slowly lowered herself down onto him.  
He saw her eyes waver and glaze slightly as he felt the hot softness
of her cunt slowly settle down around the head of this jutting
manhood.  Suddenly, her eyes dilated and her lids closed down to tiny
slits as her burning cunt melted down around him.  Her buttery, soft
vagina slowly slid down his throbbing, tingling cock as she absorbed
him into her body once again.  
She reached out and put her hands on his shoulders as she continued to
ease herself down on him.  Unable to stop himself, he gawked down at
the shamefully wicked reunion of their bodies.  His whole body
shuddered at the sheer depravity of what he saw.  
Her bald, hairless mons bulged downward to where it was split by the
fleshy rift of her cunt.  And there, slowly disappearing up between
the limp, dangling, bloated flaps of soft pink flesh was his thick,
hard cock.  As if it was slowly dissolving up into the oozing, weeping
wound of glistening, wet meat between his mother's soft smooth legs.
It made him want to cry. To laugh.  To scream.  He wanted to tell how
beautiful it was, but he couldn't speak.  Then, as he watched, their
bodies became one.  There was no way to distinguish the two.  They
were Siamese twins, joined in the most wonderful of places.
What would it be like to be forever joined to his mother in this way?
Day in and day out, fucking and loving without ever having to be
separated.  Just as he was once upon a time a part of her, completely
immersed in her protective warmth, he again was a part of her, but now
only his manhood was infused inside her womanhood.  He shivered again.
"Are you cold?" She whispered, gently squeezing his cock with her
pussy.
"Oh, God, no," he groaned, finally looking back up to her eyes, "I am
just so, so, I don't even know the word for the way I feel.
Wonderful.  Excited.  Enraptured.  Captivated.  All that and so much
more.  So much, it just makes me shiver to think about it."
"Oh, you little angel," she murmured, giving him a soft, lingering
kiss on the lips.
Leaning back, she slowly flexed her legs and lifted her hot, clutching
cunt up his thrusting cock.  Then she sucked him back inside her.  Up
and down, up and down went her hips as she began to lovingly fuck him.
As she rose and fell before him, he watched her soft, small breasts
jiggle like two little bowls of pink Jell-O.  He reached out and toyed
with them, flicking the little nipples and teasing them as she rode
him.  
He could feel the fluid movement of her cunt muscles on his cock as
she clenched him on the up stroke and released him on the down stroke.
He could also feel himself being fucked toward another detonation
inside of her.  
After ten or fifteen minutes, she was panting and sweat was coursing
down her beautiful body.  But, he still rode his jutting stallion with
wild abandon.
"Almost there, Baby," she puffed, grunting and groaning with each
impalement. "Almost there."
He was tottering on the edge himself.  Slipping his hand down around
her waist, he used his strength to augment the driving, pounding slap
of her hips on his thighs.
"Yes, oh, Yes, oh, Coming, Yes, OH, JEEEEEZZZZZZZ!" She finally
squealed, slamming herself down on him and taking him deep inside of
her spasming cunt.
As she did, her cunt began to milk him, coaxing it to release its
hoard of frothy cream up into her.  
"Oh, Lorddddddddddddd," he grunted out as his cock lurched and sent a
gusher of his cum spewing up into her.  
Their bodies clashed together in one final upheaval of emotion and
body essences.  
Collapsing, they slept.  
Brent awoke in darkness.  His mother was gone.  Where, he wondered.
Looking down at his watch, he saw that it was four o'clock in the
morning.  Yawning, he got up and trudged into his bedroom.  His mother
wasn't there.  He went on into his bathroom and relieved himself.  As
he held himself, he was mildly surprised to feel that he was a little
sore.  
Damn, he laughed inside, how many boys can say that got a sore dick
from fucking their mom?
Flicking his cock free of piss, he turned and started to crawl into
his bed.  
Wait a minute, he thought.  There aren't going to be separate beds in
this "marriage."
Hurrying down to his mother's room, he peeked inside. In the dim glow
of her night-light, he could see her curled up under the cover in her
own bed.  Smiling, he walked over and slipped under the covers.
He snuggled up to his mother, wrapping her in his arms.
"Welcome," she murmured softly, "welcome to my bed and my heart."
As she spoke, he felt her hand find his soft, limp manhood.
Unbelievably, she was able to coax him back to hardness and they made
love for a fourth time before falling asleep in each other's arms.
Their Sunday morning began again with leisurely, unrushed hour of
making love.  Brent could see the change in his mother.  She was
smiling and laughing happily.  She seemed to be a different woman.  A
woman full of energy and love of life.  Not the listless, washed out
hull of a woman she had been before. 
After they made love, she had gotten up to fix them breakfast.  Brent
had been able to stay in bed for a while, but soon he joined her in
the kitchen.  Stopping in the door, he laughed to himself when he saw
his mother walking around the kitchen naked.
"Aren't you afraid someone might see you?" He laughed, walking over
and taking her in his arms.
"Well, what about you," she chortled, reaching down and grabbing his
dangling cock.
"God, Mom, I love you," he groaned, kissing her on the lips.
"And I love you, too," she whispered.
Breakfast was postponed for another ten minutes as they fucked on the
kitchen table.
After breakfast, they spent the day trying out every known sexual
position.  Exhausted, but renewed spiritually, they fell asleep at
nine that night...

Fantasy Number 63A
(The Monster Within - Part Three)


The cab had arrived and Brent was just starting out the door when the
phone rang.  Should he answer it?  He was already running late and he
couldn't miss the airplane.  He hadn't seen his mother for seven long,
empty months.  It had been seven months of pure torture, but now he
was about to fly back into her arms.  Oh, Hell, might as well, he
thought, jerking the phone up.
"Hello," 
"Oh, Brent, I'm glad I caught you."
"Mom, what's wrong?"
"Oh, I just found out that we are having a late meeting tonight and I
won't be able to pick you up at the airport."
"Oh.  Well, okay.  I can catch a cab.  Its no big problem," he told
her, disappointed that she wouldn't be there to meet him.
"I'm sorry, honey, but I'll make it up to you later."
"I'll take you up on that," he laughed.  "What time will you be home?"
"I'm afraid that it won't be until around ten-thirty or eleven
tonight."
"Oh," he said, the annoyance clearly evident in his voice.
"But, we'll have most of the summer together," she chirped, trying to
brighten him up.
"And I know where we are going to spend it," he said suggestively.
"Oh, you are such a naughty boy to talk to your mother that way," she
laughed again.
"But you enjoy it as much as I do."
"Maybe more, maybe more," she told him.
"Wait, you said most of the summer," he said, as what she had said
finally sank in.
"I don't have time to explain now," she said, almost under her breath,
"later. You have a safe flight and I'll see you tonight.  And
remember, I love you."
"I love you, too, Mom."
Hanging up the phone, he rushed out the door and jumped into the
waiting cab.  Flying through the traffic like a maniac, the cab got
him to the airport just in time to catch his flight.
Rushing on board, he flopped down in his seat just as the plane's
engines whined up.  
Whew, that was close, he thought as the plane backed out and taxied
over to the runway.  The big, widebody lifted off and climbed to
altitude as he watched the countryside below grow smaller and smaller.

As the plane bored through the late afternoon sky, he watched the
scenery float by underneath them.  What had his mother meant?  Most of
the summer?  He couldn't think of any reason they wouldn't spend the
entire summer to together.  Brushing aside the uncertainty for the
moment, he thought back to the day he had seduced his mother.  It all
seemed so innocent now.  And look how it all turned out. He and his
mother had become lovers.  They had made love every chance they could
find.  
Then he had to go away to college.  He had hated to have to leave her.
But full scholarships weren't that easy to come by and having to pay
for his higher education would have been a heavy burden for her to
carry.  
They did get to spend Christmas break together.  It had idyllic.
Being mother and son and lovers gave their love so much more.  
His mother had become a different woman.  After the seduction, she
just seemed to come alive.  She was her old happy, carefree self.  He
had never dreamed that his hair-brained trick would be so successful.
In fact, four months after they had become lovers, she had been
promoted to assistant manager.  Quite a feat, considering she had been
tottering on the edge of dismissal when he had taken the hazardous
gamble with their lives.  Then two months after that, he had left for
college.  A whole year had gone by since then.  And he hadn't seen his
mother for seven months.  Seven, long, lonely months.  Like newly
weds, they had vowed to be true to each other while he was away at
school.  It had been a struggle with all the cute coeds running around
the campus, but he couldn't risk it.
Now he could feel his cock stirring in anticipation of its reunion
with her hot, wet pussy.  He tried to think of something else so that
his erection would go away, but his thoughts kept coming back to her.
And with the thoughts came another erection.  Damn, he was going to
have blue balls by the time his mother got home, he maliciously
thought.
At last, he felt his ears begin to pop as the plane made its slow
descent to landing.  Watching the lights outside grow bigger and
brighter, he grew more and more excited.  Then, with a screeching
lurch, they were on the ground.
His heart was pounding like he had just finished a 100 meter dash.
Damn, he was acting like a little boy.  It seemed to take hours for
the plane to finally taxi up to the deboarding dock.  But at last,
they started unloading.  Hurrying of the plane, he had to wait what
seemed like hours before his luggage finally came sliding down the
carrousel.  Then he was in a taxi speeding through the night to his
date with destiny.  Actual it was more like a date with his mother,
Ella, but she was his destiny.  Pulling up in front of the apartment,
the cab stopped.  Stepping out, Brent paid the driver and watched as
the taxi belched off in a cloud of acrid, blue smoke.  Coughing, he
walked up to the door and slipped his key into the lock.  Turning the
knob, he slowly pushed the door open.  The only light came from a lamp
in the living room.  Looking around the kitchen, he saw that nothing
had changed.  Carrying his suitcase with him, he slowly walked over to
the doorway leading into the living room.  He stopped, remembering
that afternoon so long ago when he had returned from work to find her
waiting for him on the couch.  He could still picture her sitting
there on the couch wearing the soft, flowing gown.  
His cock was already hard enough to drive nails with, he thought as he
recalled that exhilarating night.  How he had sat down by her and she
had told him that she wanted him.  Then she had undressed him and then
they had made love right there on the floor.  He didn't know if he
could call it making love.  It had been more like two wild animals
attacking each other.  Then, he had taken his mother from behind, like
two dogs in heat.  After that, his mother had sucked him back to life
and then rode him to another cataclysmic climax.  
There was so much adrenaline coursing through his body, he knees were
shaking as he set his suitcase down and walked over to the couch.  He
could smell the sweet fragrance of his mother's perfume as he looked
down at the floor where they had fucked.  He could see a faint, faded
blot on the carpet where their juices had stained it.  
Sitting down on the couch, he looked at his watch.  Nine o'clock.
Another two hours before his mother would be home.  Getting up, he
made himself a drink.  Taking it with him, he went down to his old
bedroom and pitched his suitcase on the bed.  Might as well get some
use out of the bed, he thought, laughing to himself, now that they
used her bed exclusively.
Striping down to the nude, he quickly showered.  He was almost afraid
to wash his cock, afraid it would go off in his hand.  Finally, he
carefully, gently cleansed the impatient muscle and got out of the
shower.  Strolling back into the living room, naked, he refreshed his
drink and sauntered into his mother's bedroom.
  It hadn't changed.  Everything was in shades of pink and white. Just
like her, he smiled.  All the pillows had ruffles and frills running
around them.  Just like her sexy undies, he reflectively thought.
Pictures of sunshine filled parlors with flowers and kittens hung on
the wall.  The fragrance of her light, flowery perfume hung in the air
like the smell of flowers on a warm, summer evening.  
Stepping over to her dresser, he stopped and looked in the mirror.  He
chuckled when he saw his cock jutting out, hard and ready.  Hell, he
thought to himself, she's not even home and I'm as hard as a rock.
What will it be like when she finally gets here?  Reaching down, he
pulled open the top drawer.  He felt his cock lurch excitedly as he
ran his hand down through his mother's collection of frilly, lacy
lingerie.  He remembered how his mother would buy a different outfit
every week after they became lovers.  She knew how much he liked for
her to dress up when they made love, so she would surprise him with a
different ensemble every week.  It wasn't all for him, though.  He
knew that she enjoyed displaying her lovely body, too.  Why wouldn't
she?  She was beautiful.  
Closing the drawer, he wondered what she was wearing at that very
moment.  Was she wearing panties?  If so, were they crotchless?  Did
she have a brassiere on?  Was it a peekaboo bra with her tiny, hard
nipples sticking out.  Then he imagined her sitting in a meeting
without any panties, her long, beautiful legs spread and her nipples
jutting out against the soft, sheen of her blouse.  God, he was about
to explode just thinking about her.
What would the other people think about her if they knew?  Would they
be shocked?  She had always been the quiet, soft spoken one at
parties.  Quiet, almost to the point of being shy.  He had seen the
way people looked at her.  Like she was a timid wallflower.  A timid,
beautiful wallflower, but a wallflower all the same.  If they only
knew what a passionate tigress she really was.  Finishing his drink,
he flipped off the light and lay down.  She would be home soon.  Very
soon, and then he would finally be inside of her again.  He would
return to the womb that had nurtured him.  Then he would fill it with
his seed.
Suddenly, he found himself inside a sea of sex.  His senses were awash
with her rich fertility.  Her scent, strong and irresistible was
everywhere.  Swishing his long, prehensile tail, he churned through
the thick female syrup, searching for her.  Then a faint trace of her
hot, seductive pungency touched his skin.  Slashing his long sinuous
lash through the syrup, he followed the trail of the cloying aroma.
Stronger and stronger it grew.  Then he saw it or sensed it.  His
senses were so overwhelmed by the presence of her sex, he couldn't
distinguish sight from smell or feel.  Suddenly, he became aware of
the reverberating thunder of her heartbeat as the sound waves
undulated through the thick soup of her sex.  Now he was there.  She
was all around him.  He rubbed his barbed head over the soft, smooth
velvet of her skin.  Searching, hunting for the fiery gash that would
lead to her core, her soul, her very reason for life.  Finally, he
felt it.  The tiny, hot, little, fleshy mouth was slowly yawning open
for him.  For him alone.  Ready to take him inside her.
Whipping his tail back and forth savagely, he drove himself into the
hot, cloying, sucking, clinching core of her self.  Harder and harder,
he kicked, thrusting himself deeper and deeper into the fiery oven of
her soul.  Then he was consumed by her, totally, completely.  He was
being pulled into the flaming depths of her essence.  Then his body
exploded into a million tiny pieces and their essences melted into one
coalescence of humanity.  They truly became one.  
Love and pleasure wrapped themselves around him.  Hot, sucking,
pulling rapture enveloped him.  She was him, he was her, they were we,
they were I.  His soul poured forth into their creation in great,
fiery gushes.
He could feel her hot, sucking mouth on him, sucking out his seed as
it came spurting out.  Where had she come from?  She was curled up
beside him, lovingly, gently sucking  on his jerking, twitching cock.
He couldn't stop.  His hips jumped and bounded, forcing his thick
hardness deeper into her mouth where it spewed out another gigantic
spout of his thick, seed laden nectar. 
"Oh, Fucking, God," he gasped, "been so long."
He couldn't stop.  On and on it went.  Like a fleshy volcano, erupting
again and again, spewing out rivers of molten cum into her mouth.  She
took it all, tenderly, adoringly accepting his offering to her.
Ecstatic throbs of pleasure continued to pulse through his cock as it
vomited out its steaming cargo into her mouth.  
At last, the pleasuristic spasms began to wane.  His cock jerked, then
twitched, then quivered in sensual surrender to her hot, clinging
mouth.
"Oh, Mother," was all he could say.
"Welcome home," she whispered, letting his withered maleness slowly
slither out of her mouth.
"God, how I missed you," he murmured, pulling her to him.
Nestling up next to her like spoons in a drawer, he celebrated in the
feel of her soft, warm back pressed against his chest.  Then his hands
began to refamilarize themselves with the soft, curving contours of
her body.
But, something was different.  Her body was more opulent, more
rounded, almost plump, he thought as he ran his hand over her soft,
curving hip.  Slowly he eased his hand down onto the soft, rounded
swell of her belly.  She was fat.  How could she have become so fat in
seven months?  But, there was something strangely different about this
fatness.  There was no fat.  Her stomach was swollen and hard.  As if
something inside was pushing out against his hand.  Then as if in
answer to his questioning touch, he felt a gentle but obvious stirring
under his hand.  Something inside of her stomach had moved.  
"Mother," he sputtered, "What..."
"Did you feel it?" she asked breathlessly.
"Yes, but..." He floundered, "what..."
"I'm pregnant," she said very softly.
"But, who...how...I thought you said you wouldn't go out with anyone,"
he blubbered, feeling a terrible, piercing spear of jealousy tear
through his heart.
How could she have made love to anyone else after what they had
become?  He felt his whole world tumbling down around him as tears
gushed out and started flowing down his cheeks.
"I didn't," she murmured.
"What...then how..." He stupidly asked, oblivious to the obvious.
"It's yours," she laughed softly, "yours and mine.  We made it
together."
"HUH..." He croaked.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?"
"It is our baby growing inside me," she said happily, "ours.  A little
you and I growing in there."
"Oh, My, God," he gasped as he felt another stirring under his hand.
She snuggled back against him, pressing her warm, full buttocks
against his manhood.  
He felt like someone had shot him in the stomach with a forty-five
magnum.  He couldn't breathe...
Then it moved under his hand again.  There was a live being in her
stomach.  Inside her.  And, he had put it there.  He had recreated
himself in the very same caldron that he had been formed.  Just the
thought of such depravity sent a spasm of perverse pleasure burning
through his cock.  Suddenly, he was hard and ripe again.  
He wanted to make another baby, and another, and another.  Make them
all to be as beautiful and wonderful as his mother.  Slowly he moved
his hand up to her breast.  Another shock.  Her soft, smallish breasts
had become full, heavy udders.  Touching, fondling the swollen, tight
juts of breast, he marveled at their size.  They were twice as big as
before, and her tiny little nipples felt huge.  Unable to see them in
the dark, he pictured them as big, bulging, pink berries.
She slowly inched forward, away from him and then he felt her hand on
his aching, throbbing penis.
"I want you inside me," she whispered, giving his ripeness a squeeze.
Grunting, she sluggishly struggled up to her hands and knees as he
scrambled up to his knees behind her.  Feeling for her in the dark, he
found her soft, rounded hips.  Holding her around her swollen waist,
he inched up behind her.  Poking, probing with his hard, fat cock, he
searched her warm wetness.  Suddenly, he felt her hand on his cock,
guiding it up into the fiery depths of her hot, sucking cunt.  Easing
his hips forward, he slid himself into her silken core.  It fit him
like a velvet glove.  Hot, clutching meat squeezed and caressed his
aching hardness.  It seemed tighter than before, he shuddered as he
pushed it in all the way up to the hilt.  Then his low dangling balls
slapped up against her swollen, rounded belly.
"Oh, I love the way you fill me up," she murmured, toying with his
testicles as he held himself deep inside the sucking, clutching depths
of her womanhood. Holding onto her waist, he began to slide his
bloated cock in and out of her wet, drooling slit.  The molten lake of
semen inside his sloshing balls was already beginning to bubble and
boil.  The depraved wickedness of sharing his mother with his baby was
so exciting, he didn't know how long he could hold it back.  In and
out, in and out, he drove his bloated prick into the fleshy gash
between her legs.
"Oh, yes, baby, fill Mommy up with his sweet, hot cream," she gurgled,
thrusting herself back on his pistoning manhood.
Then she began to shiver and moan as the first wave of an orgasm swept
over her.
"Oh, Jeez, cumminnnnnnn, baby," she gasped as her whole body began to
shake and shudder.
That was all he could stand.  Thrusting himself into her as far as he
could, he let go. A tremor ran through his balls as they released a
gusher of hot, stinging cum.  The molten river of semen shot through
his cock, spewing out into her like a river bursting through a broken
dam.
Spurting, spewing his cock bucked and shook inside the tight confines
of her cunt for several seconds before it finally stopped.
Groaning, he slowly eased back, sliding his cock out of the clutching
gash of sopping flesh.
"Oh, Baby, not so soon," she complained as he stumbled off the bed.
"I've gotta see what you look like," he grunted, blundering over to
the light switch. "Stand up so I can see.  Please."
"Oh, you silly boy," she laughed softly, "Why, you know what your old
Mom looks like."
"No, not pregnant," he grinned into the darkness as he heard the bed
creak under her weight, "remember, I was inside then."
"Yes, I remember," she said, "I remember."
"I'm going to turn the light on," he warned her.
"Okay."
Closing his eyes, he flipped the switch.
Silence and light filled the room.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, letting them adapt to the light.
His mother stood by the bed, looking back at him.  He felt his heart
skip as he stared at her with reverent adoration.  
Her hair seemed more gold than he remembered.  Maybe she had dyed it.
It was pulled back and swirled down around her neck, ending in a long,
spiraling curl that tickled the top of her right breast.  Her misty
blue eyes stared back at him calmly, as a little ‘aren't you proud of
me' smile played over her lips.  His eyes swept down to her swollen
breasts.  Once smallish, they now jutted out arrogantly, twice their
normal size.  The bloated cups tipping her breasts were now darker,
more pronounced just as her small, pea sized nipples bulged out with
pregnant fullness.  They were beautiful.  
Then, there it was.  The belly.  The white, distended ball, glistening
softly with the sweat from their love making.  It bulged out
sensually. Her belly was a big, white globe, softly roadmapped with
blue blood vessels just barely distinguishable under the transparent
skin.  Down below her belly, the soft underbelly, shaved and bare the
last time he had seen it was now covered with a bush of soft, golden
curls. 
As she saw his eyes find her pregnancy she lovingly ran her hands over
it, caressing and fondling her bulging stomach.
Her legs, still long and shapely were only a little thicker. Still
just as beautiful as before.  
Flicking his eyes back up to the exaggerated distention of her belly,
he grinned as he watched her gently rub it.
"Well?" He heard her ask.
"Your even more beautiful than before," he murmured blissfully.
"You really think so?"
"I do," he grinned, "really, I do."
"You don't think I'm fat and ugly?"
"How could you even say such a thing?" He mumbled, slowly crossing the
room to where she stood. "You are the most beautiful woman in the
world."
"You always know just the right thing to say," she gurgled, pulling
him to her and kissing him deep and long.
Tasting her, he returned her kiss.  He had to lean forward because of
her protruding belly.  Breaking their kiss, he gradually sank to his
knees in front of her.  Wrapping his arms around her smooth, muscular
thighs, he gently cupped the cheeks of her ass in his hands and pulled
her to him.  Like a moth drawn to the light, his lips flitted over her
bloated belly, gently kissing and licking the taut skin.  Round and
round her basketball belly he went, licking and kissing.  Pausing at
her belly button that was just beginning to stick out, he paid it
special homage with his tongue.  
As he paid reverence to her bulging abdomen, she lovingly ran her
long, slender fingers through his hair until, at last, he gently
pushed her back onto the bed.  Leisurely, she lowered herself down
onto the bed while he remained standing on his knees in front of her.
As she leaned back, her pussy, wet and weeping out his earlier
investment, floated in front of his face.  Lifting her legs up onto
the bed, she dug her heels into the bed, baring herself to his
probing, hungering mouth and tongue.  
Leaning forward, he buried his face in her steaming gash.  Inhaling
deeply, he wallowed in the aroma of her erotic scent.  Starving for
the sweet taste of her femininity, he lapped up the juices flowing
from her cunt.  He couldn't distinguish between the tart, saltiness of
his own ejaculate and her overripe syrup as he hungrily lapped it up.
Reveling in the taste of the ambrosial mixture, he explored her fleshy
gash with his probing tongue.
As he dug his tongue into her meaty slit, she moaned softy, gently
thrusting her pussy up against his gluttonous mouth.  Slowly he licked
and lapped his way up to the fleshy little cave where her clitoris
jutted out waiting for him.  Poking and probing with his tongue, he
found the swollen smoothness of her womanhood as he felt a shiver run
through her legs.  
"Oh, baby," she purred quietly.
Quickly, he attacked the protruding ball of nerve tissue, roughly
flicking his tongue back forth across it.  Hungrily teasing and
tormenting her with his tongue, he could feel her legs straining and
tightening with preeruption tenseness.  Lovingly, he lapped at her,
bringing her along with him, pushing her up the mountain.  Finally,
she was panting and trembling, tottering on the precipice of her
culmination.
Abruptly, he pulled away from her clitoris.
"Oh, No, please don't stop now, Baby," she whimpered.
His face was drenched in her wetness as he gently pushed her legs up
higher. As he did, her pussy rotated up higher and her tiny, puckered
asshole winked into view.  Flicking his tongue out, he gently reamed
her anus.
"Oh, oh, oh," she gasped, her little prune of an asshole clenching and
tightening against the unexpected attention.
Flickering his tongue round and round the wrinkled rumple of flesh, he
heard her begin to huff and puff.  After a few seconds, he dropped her
butt back to the bed and quickly assaulted her clitoris as her hips
began to jump and shake.
"Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, YESSSSSSssssssssssssssssss," she hissed as she began
to buck and bounce through the agony of her orgasm.
"Cummmmmmmmmnnnnnnnnnn," she groaned shaking and writhing under his
mouth.
He fought to keep his mouth glued down onto her as her hips slashed
and danced under him.
"Oh, God," she finally moaned as she stopped flouncing about and she
collapsed.
A month later, on a Saturday morning, Summer descended upon them with
a vengeance rendering their swamp cooler next to useless.  Brent sat
on the couch sweating and watching his mother parade around the living
room.  She was stalking around like a caged tigress.
"I wished we had a real air conditioner,' she complained stopping in
front of the blower, letting it blow the warm air onto her naked skin.
They very seldom wore clothes around the house now.  They were
comfortable with each other's body and it was hot.  The only drawback
was Brent's inability to hide his attraction to her.  Not that she
seemed to mind.
"It's a terrible time to be pregnant," she whined, turning to face
him.
"I'm sorry," he apologized for his contribution to her condition.
"Oh, it's not all your fault," she said with a derisive smirk, "I must
take a little of the blame."
"And now I have stretch marks," she fussed, "swollen ankles, my
breasts are starting to leak and I feel like I swallowed a bowling
ball."
He didn't know what to say.  He had never seen her so irritable.  She
must really be miserable, he thought, as he looked over at the bag,
packed and waiting by the door.  Although she had never told him the
expected date of birth, he guessed that it was rapidly drawing near.
Turning back to her, he saw a drop of perspiration drip off her chin
down between her bloated breasts.
"I really am sorry," he expressed his regret to her, "is there
anything that I can do for you?"
"Oh, don't pay any attention to me," she smiled tiredly, "we women
just get a little cranky toward the end."
"End?"
"Yes, it could be any day now."
"What, you mean, that, uh," he stammered nervously, "any day now,
huh?"
"I'm afraid so," she told him, plodding over to where he sat.
Grunting with the effort, she leaned over and wearily plopped down
between his legs.
Smiling weakly, she casually reached out to his cock.  He was modestly
embarrassed that it was almost hard.  But, it seemed to be in an
eternal state of erection when she was around.  
"Don't you ever get soft?" She laughed lightly.
"Not while you are around," he snickered back at her.
"Well, I guess that you know that this," she said, leaning down and
quickly sucking his rapidly hardening cock into her mouth.
She held him inside her hot, sucking mouth for several seconds before
she let it slither out of her mouth.
"... is going to be the only sex you get for two or three weeks after
the baby comes."
"Uh, no, no, I didn't," he stuttered, in wonderment.
"After I have the baby," she smiled lewdly, running her tongue around
the flared head of his cock, "it will take two, three, or four months
for every thing down there to get back to normal."
"Oh," he said, disappointment filling his voice.
"Well, maybe not all," she said just before she sucked him back inside
her mouth.
"Huh," he grunted, enjoying the feel of her hot, silken mouth
enveloping his manhood.
She ignored him as she hungrily went about devouring his throbbing
cock.  Sucking, slurping on him, she fucked him with her gluttonous
mouth while her satiny tongue stroked and licked at the swollen corona
of his cock.  Round and round his cock head went her tongue, flicking
and teasing the tender skinned monster.
Brent watched on with glassy eyed rapture as her lightly tinted lips
crawled up and down his corpulent tower of meat.  The thick muscle,
coated with spit, glinted evilly in the afternoon light as her mouth
slid up it.  Up and down, up and down bobbed her head as she nursed on
his hardened maleness.  Then she spit out his cock, letting it twitch
and quiver in the air as she sucked in one great, hairy testicle.
Swirling it around inside her mouth, she delicately nipped it before
spewing it out and sucking the other dangling ball into her mouth.
Sucking and pulling on it, she closed her teeth down above it,
trapping it inside the wet prison of her mouth.  Licking it, lapping
at it with her velvet tongue, she finally let it slip out again.  Both
of his heavy, hanging balls were drenched in her slobber.
Watching his irritated penis pulsate above her head, he felt her
roughly pushing his legs apart.  Groaning he spread them apart for her
as he felt her nuzzle down into the crack of his ass.  Thankful that
he had bathed earlier, he felt her hot, little tongue probing and
tickling his asshole.  
"Oh, God," he groaned as she pushed harder, digging her tongue into
his anus.
Then, with a lewd grin, she popped up and sucked his pulsating penis
back into her mouth.
The stark wickedness of her behavior brought the pool of semen inside
his balls to the boiling point.  She had never licked his asshole
before and even the thought of her doing it was so exciting, he nearly
came.  Then as he felt her hot, wet mouth descend down on his stinging
prick, he couldn't hold it back.
"Oh, No, Cummmiiiiinnnnnnnn," he gurgled as he thrust his cock deeper
up into her clinging mouth.
"Ummmmmmmmmmmmmm," she mumbled out around his spewing cock.
He felt the fiery stream of cum burn its way through his cock.  Then
with a jerk, his aching penis spit a huge gob of thick, heavy cream
out into her mouth.  She quickly gulped it down, sucking and pulling
on him, coaxing him to reload and fire again.  Then another jolt of
pleasure shot through his cock as another gush of cum poured through
it and out into her mouth.  Then another, and another, until at last,
his cock gave one final twitch and began to die.
"Oh, Fuck," he groaned, throwing his head back and resting it on the
back of the big, flowered divan, "you're going to kill me one of these
days."
"I'm glad you liked it," she laughed happily.
"Ouch," she yelped.
"What," he asked her.
"Oh, it was nothing," she grumbled, struggling to her feet.
"I'll be back," she smiled down at him as she turned and headed for
her bedroom.
He listlessly watched voluptuous sway of her round, soft ass as she
walked.  Funny, he had just shot his rocks off, yet he could feel a
tingle of excitement trickle through his defeated gladiator as he
admired her nude body.  
She disappeared into her bedroom and he heard the bathroom door close.
Closing his eyes, he leaned back and took a deep, cleansing breath.  A
happy somnolence drifted over him as he relaxed.  Then he felt him
slowly dozing off.  
"Brent."
"Huh," he sputtered, waking up.
"Brent, can't you hear me?"
"What," he answered her.
"I've been calling you for the longest time."
"Uh, I'm sorry, I fell asleep."
"Well, come in her," she told him.
"Okay," he mumbled, yawning and stretching, "coming."
"Not again, already," he heard his mother say sarcastically.
"Jeez, Mom," he laughed back, "is that all you think of?"
Getting up, he strolled across the room, his heavy, thick cock
flopping wildly.  Reaching down, he grabbed it and gave it a couple of
quick strokes.
I know that it's all I think of, he chuckled to himself.
"Finally," she grimaced at him as he sauntered into her bedroom.
"Sorry," he excused himself, "I dozed off."
"Well, I think it is time," she winced.
"Uh, time for what?" He asked stupidly.
"Time for me to go to the hospital," she mumbled.
"What, oh, no, already, oh, my, josh," he blathered moronicly.
"Now, settle down."
"Oh, josh, oh, shit," he went on, his heart pounding with nervous
agitation.
"First, go call us a cab, while I get dressed," she grunted as her
face contorted in agony.
"Are you okay?" 
"Just another contraction," she muttered, taking a deep breath.
"Hurry and do what I told you."
"Oh, Jeez," he blurted out, spinning around and rushing back into the
living room.
Somehow, he had gotten her to the hospital without the baby being
coming out or him dying of a heart attack.
Now he sat in the waiting room, waiting.  His mother had said if
anyone asked, his father was on a business trip and he was filling in
for him.  Sweat covered his forehead as he thought about what was
actually happening.  His mother was inside a birthing room having his
baby.
What if something went wrong?  What if they both died?  What if the
baby was born with a birth defect.  He had heard that happened with
inbreeding.  Damn, there were so many things that could go wrong.  Why
had they done this?  Why had they let it get this far out of hand?
Oh, if we could only take it back, he nervously thought.
Pacing back and forth, he acted just like the quintessential father.
Back and forth and back and forth he padded up and down the small
room.
What was taking so long?  Had something gone wrong, he wondered as he
watched the doors that sealed off the obstetrics ward from the waiting
room.  The sign on the door read "STAFF ONLY."
If only he could go inside and see how she was doing.
Finally after what seemed like hours, the big swinging doors bolted
open and a nurse came walking out.
"Mr. Martin?"
"Uh, yes," he answered awkwardly, not used to being addressed in such
a manner.
"Are you the father?" The nurse asked with a quizzical look on her
face.
"Uh, I'm a brother," he told evasively, feeling a twist of guilt in
his gut.
"Oh, well, your mother is fine," she smiled oddly.
"How is the baby?" he asked, his heart in his throat.
"Uh, he, uh, is fine," she stumbled over the word as if she were
trying to hide something from him.
"When can I see them?"
"In about thirty or forty minutes," she told him, turning and heading
back for the big, white doors.  "some one will come and get you when
they are ready."
"Okay," he smiled wanly.
Why had the nurse been so elusive when he asked about the baby?  Was
she hiding something from him?
Finally, the doors opened again and a nurse, dressed in a stark white
dress motioned for him to follow her.
His heart was pounding a mile a minute as he shuffled along behind
her.  He didn't know what to expect.
Then the nurse stopped in front of another white door.  Everything was
white.  Peeking into the tiny little glass opening in the door, she
slowly pushed the door open.
He was so anxious, he could hardly walk as he followed her into the
room.
There lying under the covers was his mother.  She looked tired and
worn out.  But she gave him a sick, little smile.
"Well, I'll leave you two alone for a while," the nurse said, turning
to leave the room.  "But you'll have to leave in ten minutes, young
man.  Your mother needs some rest.  She's had a very long day."
"Uh, okay," he mumbled, looking into his mother empty eyes.  
There was something wrong.  He could tell.  His mother looked
physically and mentally exhausted, but there was something more.
He took a step toward the bed and then he saw him.  His brother and
son lying cuddled up next to his mother.  He looked okay.  In fact, he
looked just like the baby pictures he had seen of himself.  He was
beautiful.  Suddenly his heart melted.
"Mom, is everything okay?" he whispered.
She didn't answer him for several seconds.
"Yes, but..."





 



 







Fantasy Number 63D
(The Monster Within - Part Four)


"But what?" he asked, fear clutching at his throat, threatening to
choke him.
"The baby, the baby has a, a deformity," she finally sobbed.
"Oh, no," he cried, "will he live?"
"Yes, but, oh, it so embarrassing," she sniffed.
"What?" He asked, looking over at the baby.  "I don't see anything."
Choking back her tears, she slowly reached down to the tiny infant and
gently loosened the blanket covering it.
Then, as Brent fearfully watched, she slowly peeled the cover back.
"Oh, Lord," Brent gasped, "how?"
"I don't know," she said, "unless it is our punishment."
The tiny infant, oblivious to the attention, lay sleeping.  
Brent stared down at its groin in disbelief.  The baby had a penis
that was almost as big as his.  The thick, monstrous cock had to be at
least six inches long and as big around as a banana.  
"It is huge," he whispered.
"I know," she whined.  "I was so embarrassed when the doctor held him
up, I could have died."
"I don't understand," he muttered as his mother tucked the covers back
around the baby, hiding his reprehensible deformity from the world.
"I don't know what to do," she mumbled.
"Is there some kind of operation that can fix it?" he asked.
"I don't think so," she groaned, "but I will ask the doctor."
"This is so humiliating."
Just then the nurse stuck her head back in the door.
"Time to go, young man," she told him.
"Uh, okay, uh, I'll be back tomorrow, Mom," he said, leaning down and
giving her a dutiful kiss on the cheek.
His mind was in a whirl as he reeled out of the room.  It was dark
outside, but he decided to walk the two miles back to the apartment.
He needed to think and clear his head.
How could such a thing happen?  It was unbelievable.  How could a baby
have a cock as big as a man's?  He had never heard of such a thing.
Was this god's retribution for their Incestual love?  Well, at least
he was healthy, in all other respects.  It could have been some life
threatening defect.
His mother and brother and son stayed in the hospital for three days.
He visited them every day, but the subject of the enlarged appendage
didn't come up again until they got back to the apartment.
After supper, the day they had come home, he and his mother were
sitting on the couch sharing a bottle of wine.  The baby was asleep in
the little crib in their bedroom. 
"Did you ever get to talk to the doctor about, uh, you know..."
"Yes."
"And?"
"He said that Drake's penis was normal in every way, except size."
"So there is no operation to make it normal?"
"No."
They both sat in silence for several moments.
"The doctor said that it was fifty-fifty chance that Drake's penis
wouldn't get much larger.  Or it might just keep growing in relation
to his size.  Or it may just become enormous."
"Well, I guess that we will just have to wait and see how our little
boy grows up," he said, with a weak smile on his face.
"Yes, I'm afraid so."
"But enough about Drake's," she smiled at him, reaching over had
rubbing him through his pants, "how is yours?"
"Lonely," he grinned, perking up noticeably, "but willing to wait as
long as you need."
"Well," she said softly, tickling his hardening cock through his pants
with her long, pink nails, "maybe we could do something for him."
Setting her glass down, she slowly unzipped his pants.  Reaching
inside, she dug around until she was finally able to drag his thick,
hard manhood out through the opening in his pants.
"Oh, he is so lovely," she cooed, "and so, so normal."
Lovingly, she slowly ran her hand up and down his aching cock.  It had
been four whole days.  Probably not long for some men, but when you
were used to having it two or three times a day, four days was an
eternity.
"Let's go into your bedroom," she said, getting up and picking up her
glass and the bottle of wine.
"Mine?"
"Yes, yours," she said, brusquely, "Drake is in the other room."
"Oh," he replied foolishly, realizing that his hots had clouded his
memory, making him forget about his son and brother.
"We wouldn't want to teach him any bad habits, would we?" She laughed
tauntingly.
"Uh, no," he retorted, feeling the first little flicker of jealousy
toward his son and brother.
"I hope that you won't find me disgusting," she said over her shoulder
as he followed her into his room.
Stopping at the door, he watched her set the wine down on his
nightstand.  His bed had become sort of a catchall for everything
since he had moved into her bedroom.  Bending over, she swept
everything off the bed with one sweep of her arms.
"That's better," she laughed mockingly.
Then, she leisurely untied her robe.  Still facing away from him, she
let the shimmering satin gown slowly rustle to the floor.
From behind, she still looked the same.  The same, long, flowing
lines.  The beautiful curve of her hips.  The same round perfection of
her arrogant derriere.  The same long, statuesque legs.
Slowly, she turned around to face him.  Staring at him with her
glacial blue eyes burning into his soul, she looked for any hint of
disgust or repugnance. 
Her breasts still jutted out full and proud, but her stomach was
deflated.  The round fullness was gone.  All that remained of her
pregnancy was a small fold of flesh with obvious stretch marks.  She
still hadn't fully shrunk back to normalcy.  Her pussy was once again
bald.  Well, almost bald.  There was only a stubble of what had been a
lush forest of her soft, fine pubic hair.
"Well?" He heard her ask.
"Your even more beautiful than before," he murmured in deja vue bliss.
"You really think so?"
"I do," he grinned, "really, I do."
"You don't think I am repulsive?"
"How could you even say such a thing?" He mumbled, slowly crossing the
room to where she stood. "You're still the most beautiful woman in the
world."
"You always know just the right thing to say," she gurgled, pulling
him to her and kissing him with a deep, searching kiss.
Tasting her, he returned her kiss.  This time, he no longer had to
lean forward because of her protruding belly.  Breaking their kiss, he
gradually sank to his knees in front of her.  Wrapping his arms around
her smooth, muscular thighs, he gently cupped the cheeks of her ass in
his hands and pulled her to him.  Like a butterfly searching for
nectar, his lips flitted over her shrunken belly, gently kissing and
licking the soft skin.  Round and round over her emaciated abdomen he
went, licking and kissing.  Finally, he paused at her belly button,
now receded and depressed.  Probing it with his tongue, he once again
paid it special homage.
As he paid reverence to her flattened abdomen, she lovingly ran her
long, slender fingers through his hair.  Then, he gently pushed at
her, trying to push her down onto her back.
"No," she whispered softly, pulling him to his feet,  "not yet,
please."
"Lay down and I'll be right back," she told him, giving him another
soft, lingering kiss on the lips.
"You must like the way I look," she quietly laughed as she saw his
manhood jutting out stiff and ready.
"You're still beautiful, Mom," he gushed, crawling up on the bed.  "As
beautiful as ever."
"You silly little boy," she bubbled, turning and plodding out of the
room.
Where was she going, he wondered.  Absent-mindedly, he slowly began to
stroke the thick, hard column of meat growing out of his belly. 
"Oh, don't use it all up," his mother scolded him, peeking her head
back around the doorframe, "I'm going to feed Drake and then, I'll be
back to fix your problem."
"Jeesh," he grunted, humiliated that she had caught him beating his
meat.
Then as she disappeared again, he had a jolting revelation.  He would
have to share his mother with his brother/son for the rest of his
life.  She was no longer his and his alone.  
A bitter melancholy settled down over him.  A tear slowly trickled
down his cheek as he let his cock flop back down to his belly.
The tears continued to flow, wetting the pillow as he wept in silence.
"What, what happened?" his mother asked as she sat down on the bed
beside him. "Why are you crying?"
"Oh, nothing," he lied, sniffing, trying to stop the trickle of tears
flowing down his cheeks.
"What?" she asked, running her fingers through his hair.
"Nothing, Mom," he snorted, sucking back the tears, "really, it's
nothing."
"You're not jealous of Drake, are you?"
"Oh, I don't know, maybe just a little, but I'll get over it."
"You'll have to, I'm afraid."
"I will."
"Good, now lay back and close your eyes."
"Why?"
"Just do it."
"Okay.  You don't have to get bossy."
"Well, I am still your mother.  I have a right to be bossy."
"Okay.  Okay.  You win."
Leaning back, he closed his eyes.  Then he felt his mother's soft,
warm hands on his penis.  She began to gently massage and knead the
swollen hardness of his cock, coating it with some kind of warm,
scented oil.  Her fingers continued to delicately spread the oil over
his throbbing cock until it was entirely covered with the slippery
lotion.  Then she stopped.
"Don't open them yet," he heard her say as he started to open his
eyes.
Wondering what she was doing, he lay there enjoying the delicate
fragrance of the oil.  Then he felt the bed shudder and creak in
protest as his mother moved.
"Okay, you can open them now."
Slowly, he opened his eyes.  
His mother lay on her back with her beautiful round butt poised on the
edge of the bed.  Her upper torso was on the bed, but her legs, bent
at the knee, were off the bed.  She looked kind of strange lying there
half on and half off the bed.
"What are you doing?" He asked quizzically.
"Come around and get between my legs," she directed him.
"But, I thought you said it would be several weeks..."
"Just do like I tell you.  Please."
"Okay, whatever you say."
Rolling off the bed, he clumped around the bed until he was standing
at her feet.
"You look kind of funny, lying there like that," he laughed.
"Look, I'm doing this for you, so quit making fun of me."
"I'm sorry," he mumbled shuffling up between her long, lovely legs.
He stopped when his jutting cock rested on her prickly little mons.
The hair still hadn't grown back and the short, shaven bristles
prickled the sensitive skin of his cock.
As he stood looking down at her, she raised one long, shapely leg,
lifting it until it was perpendicular to her body.  Then, she rested
it back against his stomach and chest with her dainty, little foot by
his head.  Then she repeated the process with her other leg.  Now, the
round, firm backs of both legs rested against him and his cock was
lodged between her soft, white thighs.  As she had lifted her legs,
her pussy rotated up until his cock was lying on top of it. He could
feel its soft flesh, warm and satiny.
"Okay, now back up just a little and put it in."
"But, you said that we couldn't do it for..."
"The other place," she whispered, interrupting him.
A searing jolt of excitement tore through his brain when he
comprehended what she meant.  She wanted him to put his cock in her
asshole.  She had never even hinted at such a thing before.  He had
wondered what it would be like, but he had never had the courage to
ask her.  Now she was openly inviting him to fuck her in the ass.
"But, please be gentle.  Okay?"
"Mom, we don't have to do this."
"I want to.  I want to do it for you."
"But..."
"Please, don't argue with me.  Just do it before I loose my courage."
"But, I don't want to hurt you."
"It will only hurt for a while."
"But, Mom..."
"Do it, Brent Martin," she ordered him, wriggling her butt. "Put it in
me, now."
Seeing that she was adamant, he slowly eased hips back until his cock
slithered down between her legs.  Taking hold of his cock, he
delicately rubbed the slippery cockhead up the crack of her ass
searching for her wrinkled anus.  Her ass was coated with the same
slippery salve she had rubbed on him.  The skin between the round,
full cheeks of her ass was warm and slick.  Slowly probing with his
cockhead, he gently leaned into her, applying more pressure.  Then he
found it as a centimeter or two of his barbed prick forced its way
into the hot, constricting tightness of her ass hole. 
He heard the sharp intake of breath from his mother.  He stopped
pushing.
"Push it in."
Straining a little harder, he leaned into her and felt the head of his
cock slither deeper into her.  The muscles surrounding the fragile
opening were strong and fought against his hooded invader.  
"Push harder," she winced, her beautiful face twisted into a grimace.
Obeying her, he grunted and pushed harder.  He could feel her anus
slowly dilating as the slippery head of his dick forced her open.  
All at once, she yelped in pain as the head of his cock popped into
her.  As it did, the muscles around her asshole snapped down around
the shaft of his cock.  Even as she grimaced in pain, half of his
penis slithered into her rectum before he could stop it.
"Oh, Fuck," she groaned.
Looking down between her legs, Brent saw that all but two or three
inches of his thick hardness was embedded inside her ass. 
"All.  Put it all the way in," she said through gritted teeth.
The muscles encircling her ass hole, defeated by the head of his penis
were no match for the rest of his cock as he shoved it into her.  It
easily slid into the hot, clutching tightness of her slippery asshole.
Just the wicked delight of fucking her in the ass sent chills up his
spine as he held himself buried up to the hilt inside the aching
tightness of her ass.
"Fuck my ass," she groaned.
Slowly, he withdrew his greased pole and then eased it back into her
again.  Then, holding onto her thighs he began to slide his aching
hardness in and out of her hot, clinging asshole.  He rocked his hips
back and forth, sawing the thick roundness of his cock in and out of
the strangling, tight clench of her ass.  As he fucked her, he saw the
grimace on her face slowly disappear.
Her eyes closed, brow furrowed, she endured the assault on her burning
asshole.  Then, he saw her reach down to herself and find her
clitoris.  She began to roughly rub it with her finger as her body
softly undulated to the rhythm of his fucking. He knew his cock
wouldn't be able to stand too much more.  His balls, slapping up
against the rounded softness of her upturned ass, were about to
explode.  Puffing and panting, he fucked her ass harder and harder.  
Then unbelievably, he saw her body begin to writhe and shake.  Her
fists flailed down on the bed as she rocketed off into an orgasm.  
God, she was having an orgasm while he was fucking her in the ass.  He
couldn't believe it.  It was too much.
Then the muscles around her asshole locked down on him, threatening to
squeeze the life out of it.
He blew up inside her ass, sending a gusher of his burning cum out
onto the delicate lining of her rectum.
"Aiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee," she shrieked as the scalding semen spurted out
into her ass in great, flaming gobs.  Again and again, his cock
spasmed and spurted more and more of it into her ass.
Brent felt like she was pulling him down into her ass as her ass
muscles tightened tighter and tighter.  She was going to cut his dick
in two.  He could feel the tight bands of muscle digging deeper and
deeper into the muscles of his cock.
Then, just when he thought he couldn't stand anymore, the muscles
began to relax.  Looser and looser, they became as his cock gradually
stopped erupting inside her overladen rectum.  
He felt himself growing soft inside her.  His maleness was rapidly
shrinking back to normalcy.
"Take it out, please," his mother quietly implored.
Easing back, he carefully pulled his fallen warrior back down her anal
canal. Then all at once, it popped out, followed by a stream of thick,
pearly cum.
"AAAAooooouuuuccchhhh," she yipped as it popped out.
"I never," was all he could say as he slumped to his knees between her
legs.
Leaning forward, he gently kissed the soft, fleshy folds of her
vagina.
She slowly scooted back onto the bed and he crawled up beside her.
Snuggling up together, they slept until the wailing cry of their son
woke them.
A week later, Ella returned to work at the bank. Brent once again
assumed his old job of housekeeper and cook for the rest of the
summer.  Ella had been instrumental in establishing a nursery at the
bank and now took full advantage of it.  Drake spent his days there
and his nights with Ella and Brent.  They were as happy as they could
be as the rest of the summer slipped by.  Too soon, it was gone and
Brent had to return to college.
During the next four years, Brent came home every chance he got, but
the visits were few and far between.  It seemed to him that every time
he returned, his brother/son had grown another foot.  And his mother
seemed a little older and a little more unhappy.  She seemed to be
regressing back into her depression.
Brent had invited his mother to attend his graduation, but she had
evasively declined, saying the Drake was sick and couldn't travel.
She couldn't leave him at home alone.  So after graduation, Brent
packed up and bid farewell to his dormitory.  With fond memories of
school floating around in his head, he headed down the road in his
dilapidated old car.  
Pulling up in front of the apartment, Brent reached down and turned
off the ignition.  The tired old engine wheezed a couple of times and
then died.  A new car was going to be the first thing on his agenda
when he got a job, he thought.  Opening the door, he crawled out.
Easing the door shut, he crept over to the door of the apartment.
Slipping his key into the door, he silently pushed the door open.  The
kitchen was empty.
Quietly closing the door behind him, he tiptoed across the kitchen.
Then he heard them.  He would know that sound anywhere.  He felt his
stomach heave sickly.  The sounds were coming from his old bedroom.
But who, he feverishly thought as he reeled across the room.  Now the
sick, wet sound of two bodies slapping together was deafening.  Even
louder than the roar that filled his head.  A scorching wave of
jealous rage washed over him, leaving him trembling with anger.  
Then he was at the doorway.  Fighting down the bile that was
threatening to spew up into his mouth, he looked inside.
At first, he could make any sense of it.  Why in God's name would his
mother let a teenager fuck her?  How could she after all they meant to
each other?  Had their love been so disposable?  After all they had
been through, and now this.
His brain numbed by anger and disgust, he just stood watch his mother
being fucked by the young boy.  
From where he stood, neither of them could see him.  The boy on top of
her was facing away from him.  She lay on her back with her legs
spread while the boy pounded his huge cock into her furiously.  Brent
was paralyzed as he watched the boy's tight, little ass rock back and
forth wildly.  It had to be some macabre nightmare, he thought as he
watched the muscles in the boy's ass clench and relax.  Drake was
driving his gigantic prick into his mother's drooling slit at a
frenzied pace.  He had never witnessed such fury as the boy savagely
attacked her.  Their fucking was so different.  There was no love in
it.  It was fucking.  Animalistic fucking.  He could see no tenderness
or affection emanating from either of them.  They were just fucking.
At least the boy was fucking.  His mother was just laying there taking
it.
"Unh, Unh, Unh, Unh," the boy grunted as he hammered himself into her.
Brent could hear his mother whimper each time the boy slammed his cock
into her.  The disgusting sound of his cock slurping in and out of her
was sickening.   
Then suddenly, the boy growled and drove his cock into her as deep as
he could.
"ANnnnnghhhhffffuuuuukkkkkkkkkkkkk," he barked as his hips began to
jerk and shake.
Brent knew he was going to vomit, but he fought to hold it down.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the boy jerked his hips back,
yanking his monstrous cock out of his mother's violated cunt.
"Annnooouuuccch," she moaned in pain as the boy backed off the bed and
stood up.
The boy turned and started for the bathroom.  No, it couldn't be.
But, how, Brent's mind feverishly wondered.  It was his brother,
Drake.  What in the hell was happening.  Drake was only four years
old, for Christ's sake.  But he had the body of a twelve or thirteen
year old.  And the prick of a fucking horse.  Turning his head back to
his mother, he saw that she hadn't moved.  Her violated pussy still
gaped open obscenely.  Drake's giant penis had stretched it all out of
shape. He could taste the bile in his mouth as he watched the yawning
pit slowly collapse back on itself, sending a trickle of Drake's
venomous pus trickling down onto the bed.
Gagging, he turned and bolted out of the house.  Leaning up against
the hot, flaking plaster on the side of the apartment, he heaved his
insides up. The spout of burning acid blistered his throat and mouth
as it spewed out of his mouth onto the wall.  Retching again and
again, he vomited until there was nothing left, but still he couldn't
stop as heaved dryly.
At last his stomach quit trying to turn itself inside out.  Leaning
against the wall, he wheezed and gasped for breath.  He felt terrible.
They had created some kind of fucking monster.
Finally, he was able to straighten up.  Looking around to see if
anyone had witnessed his downfall, he saw an old, homeless man staring
at him.  He was shaking his head.  The man's hair was matted down with
filth and he hadn't shaved in ages.  His clothes were filthy and had
holes in them.  His dirty shoes were so old, they probably didn't even
have soles in them.  And this man was shaking his head at Brent in
disgust.  God, had he stooped this low?
Getting into his car, he drove around for three or four hours before
stopping at a bar.  Finally, after three drinks, he staggered out to
his car and drove back to the apartment.
Stopping in front of the apartment, he saw the vile puddle of vomit
where he had spilled his guts earlier. This was the first time he had
dreaded seeing his mother since that day so long ago.  The day that
had sent them down the twisted path that led to this odious juncture.
If he had only known.
Taking a deep breath, he crawled out of the car.  Unlocking the door,
he eased it open.
No, it couldn't be happening again, he feverishly thought.  Then the
pounding slap of two bodies crashing together filled his ears once
again.  This time, his mother sat on the table with her legs wrapped
around Drake's waist as he pounded his cock into her with a vengeance.
His mother had her arms carelessly thrown around the boy's neck as she
stared off into space with lifeless eyes.  There was no emotion in her
eyes at all.  She could have been watching television or cooking
supper or washing clothes.  Still, the boy's hips flew back and forth
rapidly, sending his mammoth penis plowing in and out of her at a
frenzied rate.
He just stood there watching Drake's ass fly back and forth.  Then he
looked up and saw his mother staring at him.  The look in her eyes
sent a jolt of terror prickling down his spine.  Her eyes now showed
some animation, but what he saw there frightened him.  She was staring
at him with hate in her eyes.  Why?  What had he done to deserve it?
Then, just as the realization came to him, Drake slammed his cock into
her all the way to the hilt.
"FUUUUUUKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!" He bellowed out as his ass began to shake
and quiver, the muscles in it tightening into bands of steel.
Still, his mother glared at Brent, showing no interest or concern for
her other son as he spewed out his vile putrefaction into her bruised,
battered womanhood. 
Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.  Drake stepped
back, letting his mother's legs flop to the table as his cock
slithered out of her.  She disentangled her arms from around his neck
and let them fall to her side.  Drake didn't say a word, he just
looked over his shoulder at Brent and then trudged out of the kitchen
with his gigantic cock dangling between his immature legs.
Brent didn't move.  He didn't know what to do as he and his mother
stared at each other.  Then they heard the television.  The sounds of
a cartoon came floating out of the living room.  Then Drake laughed.
The unconcerned, infantile laugh of a child.  
"What?" he was finally able to croak as he stumbled over to where his
mother sat on the table.
"He won't leave me alone, Brent," she said helplessly.  "He is on me
all the time."
"When?"
"All the time," she groaned wearily, "I am surprised that he lets me
go to work."
"But, when did it start?"
"I don't know," she mumbled, "I don't remember, three or four months
ago."
"How?"
"Fuck, I don't know," she whimpered, "it just happened."
"Doctor?"
"Doctor says he has hormone problems.  Has the mind of a four old, but
the body and sexual drive of a pubescent boy.  You know how that is.
Sex seems to be all he thinks about."
"Doctor gave him some pills."
"And?"
"Won't take them," she mumbled, "Would rather fuck me."
"What can we do?"
"I don't know, but I am at my wit's end."
"Well, I'm here."
"I'm glad," she smiled feebly, "but I can't see that it has helped
much."
"Maybe, I can keep him off you."
"We'll see."
"I'll try."
"Tired.  Need some sleep," she said, slipping off the table.
"I'll watch him while you get some sleep then."
"Good luck."
She scooted off the table and tiredly padded across the kitchen with
Brent following her.  As she started across the living room, Brent saw
Drake hungrily following her with his eyes.  As Drake watched her, his
hand with down to his cock. Brent couldn't believe it, but the boy's
cock was hard and stiff already.  And he hadn't been off his mother
more than ten minutes.  Jesus Christ, Brent thought, he must be
possessed by some demon.  The boy had a monster living inside of him.
The monster within.  
"Drake, Mother is going to bed to sleep," Brent warned him, "you leave
her alone."
"I don't have to mind you," Drake petulantly complained.
"You will or I will spank you," Brent hurled back at him.
"Hunnnh," Drake huffed, turning back to the television.
"Night," Ella said tiredly, plodding into her bedroom.
Brent walked over and sat down on the couch.  He watched Drake as the
boy stared into the television.  The cartoon blared loudly.  Every
once in a while, Drake would look over his shoulder and glare at
Brent.  Brent could feel the rancor in his brother and offspring.
What a day, he tiredly thought as he closed his eyes.  He had driven
all morning, seen his mother raped, puked his guts out, and seen his
mother raped again.  
"OH, DRAKE, PLEASE."
What?  What was happening?  Then he realized he had dozed off.  Drake
was no longer in front of the television set.  Then he heard that
sound again.  The sickening, disgusting slap of two bodies slamming
together.
"PLEASE STOP," he heard his mother pleading.
Staggering to his feet, he  lurched into her bedroom.  Drake was on
top of her again.  His hips were rocking up and down like a runaway
jackhammer.   His mammoth prick was sliding in and out of her with
nauseating ease.
"GET OFF ME, DRAKE," she snarled, beating at his back with her fists,
"I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE."
"Want fuck, want fuck, want fuck," Drake grunted every time he slammed
his cock into her.
Brent stumbled over to the bed and grabbed hold of Drake by the
shoulders.  Heaving back, he tore his ranting brother off his mother.
Just as he did, the boys monstrous penis came slithering out of her
spewing out a noxious gusher of purulence up her belly, over her
chests and into her face.
"OH, GOD," she retched.
He threw his brother across the room where he slammed into the wall.  
Drake turned around.  Shaking his head, he suddenly charged Brent with
his head lowered.  Brent hadn't expected retaliation and was taken by
surprise. Drake's head crashed into his chin, knocking him back. Brent
saw stars flashing before his eyes as he slithered to the floor.
Knocked senseless, he couldn't move.  Then his eyes cleared.
The scene before him was unraveling in slow motion.  Drake stood
rubbing his head where it had struck Brent's chin.  Looking over to
his mother, he saw her dreamily reach into the nightstand.  Slowly,
with fatal clarity, she withdrew her hand.  He couldn't believe it.
In her tiny fist, there was a small, silver revolver.  
"NO!" he screamed, but no sounds came out.
Then he saw Drake start toward her with a depraved smile on his lips.
His hand dropped down and he ran it up and down the malignancy jutting
out of his hairless groin.
"Mommy want to fuck?"
PoP!      PoP!         PoP! Pop!
PoP!
Brent watched incredulously as Drake stumbled backward.  Four tiny,
little, black specks circled the horrendous atrocity sticking out of
his hairless belly.  Then he saw the other dot.  Where Drake's left
nipple had been.  Suddenly, blood began to gush out of the hole.
Drake looked down at his chest in disbelief.  Then Drake just sat
down, flopping heavily to his ass.  Sitting there, stupefied, Drake
looked up at his mother.
"Why?" he mumbled.
Then he fell backward.  Flat on his back, he was gasping for breath.
His chest heaved up and down two times and then he stopped breathing
as his head rolled to the side.  Brent stared into his lifeless,
unblinking eyes.
PoP!
"NO!" He screamed as he saw a spray of red explode out of the back of
his mother's head.  
"NO!"
The gun fell from her lifeless fingers and her arm flopped down to the
bed.
"NO!" He screamed as his mother sat staring at him with sightless
eyes.
"NO!" he screamed and screamed...

The End...

Hope you enjoyed...

The Baron...(;-{)



















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