Copyright© 1996-2003

"Have you heard of those trollops of Birmingham
And the scandal that's currently concerning 'em?
How they lift the frock
And tickle the cock
Of the Bishop while he was confirming 'em?"
-author unknown

The helicopter lowered close enough to the surface that the blades caused the salt water to soon cover the woman completely. The cool water soaked through her light summer dress and hair as she ignored the water and looked up into the glass canopy. The pilot hovered close enough that his mirrored glasses could easily be seen, and the attractive woman shivered in fright.

From the vantage point of the pilot, she never moved. Sarah forced her fingernails into the palms of her hand to still her fear and her body. She could see that the male pilot spoke into the microphone attached to his bright yellow helmet and then seemed to wait.

Time flowed incredibly slowly as the fearful mother felt her patience disintegrate. Just when she thought she could no longer control her fear, the twin Huey suddenly rose and then rushed over her head. The deep thumps of its rotors loud until it rounded the peak of the low mountain and fell then behind it. The echoing sound soon faded away.

Sarah fell into the foot of water about her ankles, her body now trembling violently and she allowed the tears to come. A half full bucket of clams sat a foot from her, forgotten. It wasn't long until a distant voice yelled out to her - the shrill sound obviously scared for her.

Minutes later, strong youthful arms wrapped about her shoulders and a head was placed next to hers. "Thank God, mom!" The tide was slowing coming in and the sand bar that she sat upon appeared to be slowly sinking beneath her. Her son moved his arms beneath her shoulders and lifted her. "Come on, mom. Let's get back to the Sarah Jane." Years ago, her husband had named his sailboat in honour of his wife.

That had been before.

Sarah tried to help her son and wrapped an arm about his shoulder, yet fear disabled her almost completely. It had been much like this for the last few weeks; her fifteen year-old son had cared for her more than the reverse. She felt proud that he was turning into a man, yet she also felt humble when her young son took the pinnacle position within their relationship. It was supposed to be the reverse, she thought.

"We should move the sailboat, mom, before the helicopter comes back." They reached warm dry sand and continued up the short rise and over the drift wood. "I don't think he saw her but he'll know she's about," he said, referring to the boat.

The young man rushed the two of them through the very dense forest and suddenly the forty-six foot craft sat before them. It had been the pride of her successful husband, and the dread of hers. Sarah hated the ocean, but found refuge on it when she most needed it. Her son grew up on the ship with his father and knew how to sail the Sarah Jane better than even Mike, her husband, though her son's youthful impatience often showed through in his sailing, as it did in his life.

Wading out, David helped his mother up onto the stern and waited for her to safely gain the cockpit. He knew of his mother's fear of the water and respected that emotion. In fact, he respected and admired everything about her. Climbing aboard, he untied the two lines from overhanging branches and then started the engine to back out of the tight confines of the overgrown forest. Usually Sarah helped with crewing the ship, but David correctly assumed she needed time to collect herself.

Within the hour, the craft drove forward under full sail as the sleek craft sliced through the water. Sarah had disappeared below long before the craft had reached open water. David shouted at the wind and spray as he joyfully drove his ship with the wind. It had been like this for several weeks, but it was the first time someone had found them.

North of Gibbons David knew it would take much to find them again. It was simply luck that his mother had been several hundred feet from the shore when the search helicopter had found her, far away from the nearest cover. He had seen his mother's paralysis as she stood bravely before the hovering 'copter. Soon he would be able to anchor the Sarah Jane in another remote and concealed spot while the search continued. David hoped another incident like today would never happen to his mother again.

Sarah woke hours later, her face itchy with the dried tears and her still-wet salty body cold in the chill night air. In the stern main cabin, she lay lonely and wondering if the path her son and she had embarked on had been the right one. She often thought she was doing something wrong, something immoral and even illegal. Yet love made her do things that she would never have thought about.

She sat up in the firm twin bed and shook out her long, straight dark hair before realizing the Sarah Jane was again at anchor. The sound of gentle waves washing against the metal hull and the easy movement of the sailboat told the tale. She may dislike the water, but she had learned a few things in the last few years with her husband.

With easy movements, the thirty-six-year-old woman slid out of bed and stood in the only open spot in the cabin to remove her damp clothing. She pulled off all her coverings then, shivering, she quickly pulled on a huge wool sweater and plain white panties. The boat was quiet, so unnatural since her son liked to listen to his music rather loudly at all hours of the day. Sarah opened the thin wooden door to find the rest of the small ship dark. The only light was from the three-quarter moon coming through the port holes along the starboard side of the lounge.

For only a second the earlier fear touched her and she shivered with fear. Then she heard her son's familiar snore from forward. He must be asleep in the fore cabin. It was very much like him to allow her to calm herself and take control of the situation to find another spot to anchor. Stealing through the rest of the ship, the attractive mother slowly opened the door to her son's small triangular-shaped cabin.

She took a moment to admire his sleeping form, so youthful so calming to her soul. At moments like this she knew why she had left her husband, why they lived like renegades. With cat- like grace she crawled into bed next to her son. He normally slept very soundly and never even realized someone was working the thick quilt down his body. Sarah smiled when she saw he hadn't worn anything to bed but she simply tore her eyes away and slid her body down along his before covering the both of them up.

Laying her head onto his shoulder, the woman closed her eyes and felt love for the only man who hadn't treated her as an object. Soon, she also slept soundly.

David felt the smooth warm skin of his mothers legs along his own strong limbs. She was curled up next to him, sleeping. He was surprised that she had crawled into his bed rather than sleep the night through. She wore her favourite thick wool sweater that could easily cover the two of them.

He loved his mother with a passion that had started the first night she had crawled half-naked into his bed. That was when it had started and they had not turned back from the path they both now enjoyed.

They were lovers.

As she slept, he moved his hand down to rest it against her panty- covered bottom. David lifted the edge of her wool sweater to her waist and then moved his hand on top of the cotton briefs. Ever since he could remember, he had been obsessed with her round firm bottom. As a kid he used to hug her leg and press his head into her ass just to be close to it, though he never realized why at the time. And later, when he started to discover his own maturity and temperament he often stole glances at his mother's shapely ass, and though guilty feelings often accompanied these voyeuristic moments, he found his desire more powerful than his guilt. The last few weeks together she had come to realize his enjoyment of her bottom and not once hindered him in any way.

Gently, the young man rolled his mother away from him and onto her back. Her sleep was disrupted momentarily before her breathing again became slow. David rolled onto his side and pushed the quilt down their bodies. The darkness covered her effectively, yet his desire easily pierced it to place his hand again upon her, this time above her pubic mound.

Sarah awoke slowly with the realization that a hand was gently touching her. The manly scent of her son was easily distinguishable and she feigned sleep to discover what else he would do with her. Her legs were slightly apart, enough for him to slide two fingers along her mound down far between her legs. She felt the hand expertly move her clean white cotton panty to the side and the fingers again travelled the same course. This time, they slipped between her outer lips and slid down the length of her sensitive inner pink folds. She could not control the gentle lifting of her pelvis, but continued to feign sleep.

David smiled in the dark as his mother's body reacted to his touches. Besides her buttocks, he had always been attracted to her long smooth firm legs. Not until he was older did he appreciate how youthful they had remained, compared to other older ladies his mother's age. His fingers, now sporting a light coating of her sexual lubricant, gently strolled down her inner thigh to just above her knees. She moaned in her sleep and moved her knees a few more inches apart. Quickly squirming down the bed, David placed a single passionate kiss on the inside of his mother's thigh about half way from her crotch to her knee.

Hands came down and entwined into his long unkempt hair. "Well, dear, couldn't sleep?" She was teasing her son, and her voice told him so.

Kissing again, an inch higher, he continued, "I had this dream, mom." Before she could say anything, he continued, "About a sexy woman who loved hard cock so much she couldn't get enough."

Sarah giggled to her son's amusement. It rarely pleased her when he used vulgar language with regard to their relationship. It made her feel cheap. And the only time he did use it was when he was horny, which was more often than not since they chose not to live a lie. Another part of her was worried that what he said was the truth, that she could not physically imagine living without her son's cock. So Sarah pulled her son's hair upwards towards her sex. Mostly to silence him, but partially to give her body the attention it needed.

Yet David was learning that he could have anything when it came to this sexy older woman. Holding his face a few inches from her moist and musky-smelling sex, he toyed with her. "Do you know any women that fit that description, mother?" So he played the verbal game with her, something she didn't relish but understood.

She was also experienced enough to know that he would only continue to push until he got his way. It was a trait he had got from his father, something that Sarah loathed. She used a voice that often worked on him, her girlish pleading voice, as she attempted to again distract her only son. "Please, baby!" The renewed tug towards her sex and its message could not be interpreted in any other way.

In the dark, she felt his hand move up to the junction between her legs and a finger surprised her when it wormed its way easily up her vagina. Sarah gasped out and arched her back in pleasure; it wasn't the tongue she had been craving but for the last few years any sexual attention was enjoyed immensely. The finger pumped within her folds several times before being easily extracted. She groaned out, feeling her resolve disintegrate and she whined for more attention.

David smiled and knew how to get his mother to become a desirable sexual slave to her own desires. She often played the dominant maternal role until he suddenly showed any interest in her sexually. Then it was simply a matter of deciding how he wanted her, and he did indeed want her. Right now he wanted her to beg for him. Slowly, reaching up her body, he moved his hand to her face and slide the finger into her mouth.

She knew what he had planned before he did it - her own strong scent preceded the digit and she allowed the finger to enter fully into her mouth. It wasn't the first time she tasted her own bodily fluids, most often upon the skin of her young son and lover, and it excited her realizing where her son's finger had just come from. In fact, she realized she became excited with almost anything her son did to her or around her. Sarah remembered, when she had recently watched her son masturbate, how strong her own orgasm was and the hours of pleasure David enjoyed with her afterwards. She could not say no to her son, or to their incestuous relationship, for when she felt the familiar rush of warmth and electricity flow through her veins, she was a submissive to her desire.

David felt her lips enclose his finger and suck upon it firmly. She pulled his paw from her mouth to moan, "Mommy needs your cock, baby." She resumed her fanatic sucking.

He pulled his hand down again towards the juncture of her legs. Before his hand reached her sparsely-furred mound, he placed a single kiss directly upon her clitoris. As he knew it would, she gasped loudly and squealed with delight. His mother had a hair- trigger clit. "Mommy needs to ask properly!" Her legs had earlier been moved widely apart, so that he now knelt directly below her. The hand again strolled down her sloppy wet vaginal lips to stop against the hard wrinkled hole between the cheeks of her ass.

Sarah tried to relax her anus as the finger firmly pressed into her. She gasped out loudly in surprise and painful pleasure. It was too much, he could have her any way he wished, and they both knew it. He simply wanted to hear those words from her. "Fuck me, David!"

He passed the second knuckle and stopped to enjoy the firm pressure of her spincter muscle about her index finger. Using a surprised analytical voice, he asked, "Where, dearest mother? Where would you like me to fuck you?"

It was simply too much, the game had gone far enough. Sarah needed his cock immediately. She didn't care anymore. "Fuck me anywhere, David!" She was practically shouting within the small triangular fore cabin. Her son rotated his finger within her ass hole and she quickly added, "Fuck my ass baby, is that what you want? Fuck my tight ass hole and make me scream."

Calmly, with the smile which could almost be heard in his voice, David asked, "But what is it you want, mother dearest?"

"All I want is your cock!" She groaned out when he took a long lick from the edge of his invading finger to her clitoris. Even this far gone within her excitement, she knew what her son liked. "And your come, baby! Mommy wants you to come inside me, on my face, in my ass! Anywhere you want to, baby." The sound of her own nasty words also excited the middle-aged woman, and she knew her son may indeed do the things she begged him for, if not this time together, then maybe next time. Everything she asked him for he had delivered at least once since they ran away to be lovers of the flesh. Sarah knew what it felt like to have her son's sperm and his eyes upon the smooth skin of her face.

This time David groaned. Sarah felt his unbalanced movements in the dark and knew what he was doing and shivered in excitement. Her son straddled her head with his knees before bending over his mother, his breath blowing upon her hot sex. His own hard phallus pressed into the side of her face and she moved her head enough so her hungry mouth could engulfed him. It was one of the most degrading things she could do, and the most exciting - to suck upon her son's hard penis.