Rex Taylor: Mother lover

He closed his eyes and took her by the waist, bending forward to brush his chest against her back, and he began to fuck her for lust and love and because she was Cathy and he was Chris and they were made for one another. His cock plunged in forcefully, drew back, once more jabbed home, squishing along the lubricated walls of her cunt. She moaned, she chewed her lips, she clawed at the sheet upon which she knelt, and above all else she fucked him in return, her hips gyrating to apply the most sensual stimulation of which she was capable upon the barrel of his pecker. It was heaven, she thought, and she wondered how she had ever lived without Chris, how she had ever been able to face the days of her life without the prospect of reaching nirvana with the aid of his wonderful cock. "Oh, yes," she croaked, her throat as dry as her snatch was wet, "oh, yes, yes, yes, YES!!"

Gwen left her car with a heavy heart, dreading the necessity that faced her now. She had lied to her daughter all these years, she had concealed the facts of her own life, had kept from Cathy the now inescapable truth that the girl had a father living instead of dead, as well as a twin brother whom she had never known. And now the lies had caught up with Gwen Corby. She opened the door, hoping that Cathy might be sitting on the sofa or perhaps still dawdling over breakfast, and hoping at the same time that she might put off the ordeal just a bit longer.

The living room was empty. Her heart thumped so loudly that there was a rushing in her ears and she felt just a bit dizzy. Cold chills and hot flashes alternated upon her body and she drew a hand across her forehead, surprised when she looked down at the little beads of sweat on her fingers.

She stood in the kitchen, and her hand went down to brace itself upon the refrigerator handle. Contact with the solid object restored Gwen's sense of balance and her head cleared. She smiled, confident again. And then she heard the sounds that came from Cathy's bedroom. The sound of a mattress squeaking energetically, the sighs and moans of a young girl, the sighs and moans of a young man. Her vision went black for a moment and her entire body froze and then she went to see what she knew she must see.

It was them. Her son, her daughter. They were on the bed, both of them naked as the day they were born, and Chris was putting the prick to Cathy. Dog-fashion at that, she noted, with Cathy on hands and knees on her bed and Chris hunching her from behind, bent over her back, his hands full of his sister's tits. Cathy's head

was shaking back and forth, her long blonde hair flying in disarray, and Gwen was shocked to realize that her teenaged daughter was hovering on the verge of what gave indications of being a throbbing, twitching super orgasm. Chris' eyes were closed and there was sweat bubbling from every pore of his body. His hips muscles were tight and knotted and it was clear that he was on the brink of his own climax. Both of the kids were moaning and sobbing so earnestly Gwen felt for one passing instant as though she were an intruder upon something that was none of her goddamned business.

She clutched the doorframe, closed her eyes, and then screamed, "CATHY!!"

The kids jerked at the unexpected sound, and they rolled on the bed, their dog-style pileup collapsing. Chris twisted his body to face Gwen and his cock flipped out of Cathy's snatch just as his balls released their scorching load. Cathy screamed wordlessly as she felt his prick leave her cunt, and she reached to clasp his cock as it squirted, the cum flying everywhere-onto the sheet, onto her legs, and some of it into the wet tangled fur of her bushy crotch. Her hand shucked rapidly on his hard shaft, emptying his dick of its creamy jizz, and she rolled from side to side upon the bed, her legs kicking, her snatch lips throbbing and burning for want of that last little measure of love and affection that would have sent her directly into seventh heaven.

Gwen's legs were rubber as she walked towards the bed. The kids opened their eyes and she saw them blush. "Oh, God," she said sorrowfully.

Cathy looked up at her mother with anger burning in her heart. "Why did you have to spoil it?" she demanded. "Why couldn't you have left us alone? Goddamnit, I nearly came! And you kicked

it up for me!"

"Cathy!" Gwen snapped. "Don't talk to me in that tone of voice!" There was a catch in her throat, and she knew that she. would be crying within moments. "You can't realize what seeing you-seeing Chris-"

"If you're worried," Cathy announced bitchily, "don't be. I'm on the Pill. You won't be a grandma till I'm ready to make you one."

Pills-orgasms-they weren't talking the same language. Mother and daughter, they were still strangers. Gwen wanted to die with the shame she felt.

"Chris," she said, turning to the boy, speaking as evenly as she could manage, "I think you'd better go home. Your father wanted to speak to you about something important."

He shrugged, making no effort to cover his crotch. Gwen had already seen him squirting his cum, so it was no big deal if she saw his cock getting soft now. His hand touched Cathy's shoulder.

"Don't go," she said. "You don't have to go."

"You do," Gwen declared. "You really do. Trust me."

"Okay," he said, and he left the room. In a few minutes Gwen saw him leave the bathroom, wearing only his pants, his shirt lying across his forearm.

"If you loved me, you wouldn't let her chase you away!" Cathy yelled as Chris went out the front door.

Gwen sat down on the bed with her daughter, taking care not to touch the patches of fresh sperm that still globbed on the sheet. "Cathy, Cathy honey," she said, "I don't know what to say "

"Because you caught me screwing? If you'd ever taken the time to be my mother, to spend any time

with me, you'd know that I like to get screwed. I'm not a virgin, Gwen, for God's sake!"

"It's not that at all!" Gwen screamed. "I don't care if you've balled everything that wears pants in Connecticut! Now get your things packed up. We're leaving as soon as we can get the car loaded."

"Leaving?"

"Yes. We're going back to New York. Cathy, there's so much to talk about, so many things-"

"I don't want to leave."

"You have to. You don't have any choice. We have to go home."

"Jesus, Gwen-you know now that Chris and I are making it. Why can't you just accept it? We don't have to run away because you caught me in the act. I told you, I'm on the Pill, so I can't get knocked up. Can't we just spend the rest of our vacation here?"

"No, we can't," Gwen said evenly, trying to control the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. "Now, young lady, you listen to me for a change. Pack up everything you want to take because we're leaving in half an hour. And, please, put some clothes on." She went out the door without looking back, not wanting Cathy to see the tears that flowed from her eyes in rivulets.

She heard Cathy slam shut the bedroom door; she heard Cathy turn on the stereo-Black Oak Arkansas-and raise the volume to full; she thought she heard Cathy scrambling around inside the room. Gwen finally wiped away the last of her tears and began to box up her typewriter. The hard rock coming from Cathy's room was almost deafening and she had no choice but to request the girl to turn it down and get on with her packing.

Gwen tapped at the bedroom door, again and again, receiving no response from inside. She turned the handle and the door opened. Cathy

wasn't there. A window was open and the curtains rustled in the breeze. Gwen looked around, saw the piece of stationery taped to the mirror on Cathy's dresser. She tore it loose and read the message twice, then ran into the living room.

The switchboard that handled all calls on the island was reluctant to release Mr. Robinson's phone number, but Gwen persuaded them that it was truly an emergency. She waited with chattering teeth as the phone rang once, twice, and then Don answered it.