Chapter 2

About a month and a half later, life had returned to semi-normal. Our adventure in rural Georgia was simply never talked about now. Bill and I had spoken briefly about what happened that evening when we got home, and each had agreed to believe what the other said was true. I lied, of course, when Bill asked me directly if I'd encouraged Jeremy or if I'd climaxed with any of them. I pretended astonishment that he would even suggest it. I never asked him directly about his experience with Amber. I know he ejaculated in her, but I am also positive that he's embarrassed about it. That's just his nature. So I mercifully let it go. I think that was quite charitable of me.

Bill is obviously not over it, however. We've only had sex once since Amber and I were raped, and that was awkward. Now he spends a lot of his time in Washington D.C. lobbying for his company. He seems driven now and so focused on work. I think it helps him forget that he fucked his daughter. Or to be fair, I guess I should say that Amber fucked him. But whatever, he's been extremely successful lately, and has earned a number of bonuses over the past few months. He's rarely home, but the extra money is always nice, so I didn't complain.

I often thought about that experience, too. I can sometimes physically feel the thickness of Sheriff Jeter's cock stuffed so deep up inside me. I've occasionally thought about calling him, but I knew that would be foolish. I've dialed his number half a dozen times, but the one time I let it ring, I hung up. I hope I don't ever call him, but I know it's a real possibility. I haven't had sex in a long time. I think about it constantly.

I've thought about having an affair, but I'm just not that kind of woman. I've only cheated three times in our sixteen-year-old marriage, and I think that's really outstanding. I mean, it's one thing for a normal frumpy housewife to not cheat, but not for someone who looks like me. I get hit on constantly! So I'm very proud of how faithful to Bill I have been. It will be Bill's fault if I do have to look around.

Being raped the way I was has had a profound effect on me. I seem constantly on the edge of desire, constantly thinking of the men who had taken me and the way they did it. Sex has been a persistent thought, and sadly, sex with my husband is a rare occurrence now. I've become nothing but unfulfilled arousal.

Not surprisingly, the incident has affected Jeremy and Amber, too, but in quite different ways. Jeremy has always been a loving and demonstrative boy, always hugging and kissing me, and lately he's been even more so. He seems very protective of me, almost as if he wants to make me his possession. His relationship with his sister has grown more secretive. I'm not sure I understand that.

Amber had turned into a bit of a bitch. She seems to always be competing with me. If she sees a guy checking me out me when we're out shopping, she'll go to outrageous lengths to make the guy look at her. On the few occasions that Bill is home anymore, she flirts openly him, having constant "wardrobe malfunctions" and other "accidents" that display all of her "charms" to him, often while sitting in his lap. She makes sure I notice. It only embarrasses Bill, I feel.

But lately things changed dramatically.

It began in late July. It was very hot and muggy in Augusta. Amber was on a two-week Caribbean cruise with her boyfriend and his family. I was putting up some new curtains in the dining room, and had changed into some cute little shorts I'd bought earlier that week and a cut off tee shirt that I like to wear around the house when no one's here. It's rather brief, coming just to the bottom of my boobs, but it's so very cool on these hot muggy Georgia days. And in truth, I love how sexy I feel in it.

Every time I'd stretch up to adjust the curtain, the lower half of my boob was plainly on display. I knew I was giving every passerby a little peep show each time I'd raise my arms above my head, but that only made me feel sexier. And I frankly needed to be admired.

I heard the door open, and saw Jeremy, just home from school, walk over to give me a hug and a kiss, as he's done since grade school.

"Hey, hottie. Nice boobs!," he said, kissing me on the neck, and putting his arms around my waist. "Saw the through the window!"

"Is that anyway to talk to your mother?" I said in mock dismay.

"It is when your mom is as hot as you are and her tits are like totally on display!"

"Jeremy, stop that now!" I said in a similar tone. I paused a moment. "You think I'm hot?" I asked with a little giggle.

"You're a MILF," he said. "Know what that is?"

"Yes, I know what a MILF is," I answered trying to sound stern. "That's not a nice thing to say to your own mother!"

"Mom, you're the hottest MILF in the school. All the guys say that." His pelvis was pushing up hard against my bottom and his fingers were lightly tracing circles on my belly while he kissed my neck.

"Oh, really? All the guys?" I said looking up over my shoulder at my son's flushed face. He was obviously enjoying this. I could feel his cock beginning to harden against my butt.

Yeah, all the guys. Every time you come by to pick me up, every guy in the school goes fucking nuts wanting you."

"Doesn't that embarrass you?" I asked innocently.

"Are you kidding? This isn't like back in the day. I love having the hottest mom!"

"Everybody says I'm hot?" I asked. "Hotter than Jake's mom?" I added somewhat petulantly. "She's really very pretty."

"She's flat as a board, mom. Nobody wants to fuck her," he said in a slightly raspy voice, pulling me closer into his body. His left hand was pushing down against the waistband my shorts.

I have to admit that I loved what Jeremy had just said. Melissa, Jake's mother, always acted as though she was a runway model and always gave me just the snootiest looks when we'd meet. I could tell she didn't like the way I dressed, and somebody once told me that she had called me a "tramp" at a dinner party. She was the kind of woman who always thought she was at the cutting edge of fashion and that she and her hedge fund husband were just so superior to the rest of us. And I also know that she thought she was hot! So when Jeremy told me not one the guys thought she was the least bit sexy, I just loved it.

"What about Donny's mother?" I went on. "She has huge boobs!"

Jeremy's right hand had risen to the very underside of my breast now. I just stayed where I was, intrigued by the conversation and what Jeremy was doing. His right hand seemed about to cup my breast and his left appeared determine to investigate what was beneath my shorts!

"Mom, come on. She's fat! You're the hot MILF mom," he said huskily, kissing my neck again and moving his hand up that last inch to finally cup my breast fully in his hand. His erection was pushing hard into my butt.

"Jeremy," I said, "what are you doing?"

"I'm feeling your hot tits," he replied, beginning to caress my nipples.

"Jeremy, I'm your mother!" I said with some consternation. But I made no effort to move his hand.

"You're a MILF," he answered huskily. Both hands were now cupping my tits and openly kneading them. "And I want to fuck you!" he groaned pulling hard on my nipples.

"Jeremy, I'm your mother," I repeated, trying to catch my breath. "Please stop." I could feel my nipples stiffening between his fingers.

"You liked it when I fucked you in that barn. I know you did."

"That was different, Jeremy. That was rape. They made us do it."

"All the more reason to do it right, this time," he said breathing hard into my ear.

His right hand had moved down to caress my belly again now. I was beginning to lose control of myself. As his fingers explored the waistband of my shorts, I wantonly sucked my belly in to give his exploring fingers easier access to the prize he was obviously after. I let out a tiny moan when his fingers found the cleft of my pussy.

"Jeremy, this is so wrong," I sighed arching my back.

In one quick motion, he pulled the tee over my head, turned me to him, and grabbed my ass and squeezed me hard against him with all of the pent-up ardor in his body.

"I don't care," he groaned. "I need to fuck you. Feel this," he said, placing my hand on the throbbing bulge in his pants.

It had just gone too far now. My lack of sexual satisfaction, my own built-up eroticism, and the memory of Jeremy's extraordinary cock filling my cunt in the Georgia woods and the explosive climax he'd produced so deep inside me had me dripping wet. I struggled to regain some composure. I knew I should not let this happen. This would be incest, not rape.

Suddenly, his lips were on mine and his tongue was thrusting into my mouth. I could feel my knees buckle and my determination fade. I simply surrendered to his powerful need. And to my own!

"Just this one time, then, Jeremy," I moaned. "It can never happen again," I whimper into his mouth as his tongue darted deeply inside. "Just this one time."

He slipped the shorts from my quivering thighs, and as I stepped out of them, he scooped me into his arms and carried me back toward the bedrooms. I expected him to take me to his room, but instead, he walked right past and deposited me on his father's bed. It only made the extreme eroticism of his incest more intense.

"Jeremy" I said again as he lay me on his father's bed and pushed my legs apart, "Only this once. Just to make up for the rape. Promise me!"