Chapter 4

It always feels a little weird slipping into bed between my dad and mom, but he only watches as mom rolls onto her back for me. It’s already morning and her face is crimson in the orange-tinged light of the dawn as it pours through the tattered, swaying curtains. Crumpled clothing and stained sheets litter the room, draped across overturned furnishings or piled across the discolored carpeting. Above the bed, one of two paintings is askew. The other one collapsed to the floor weeks ago.

“Ready?” I ask with a grin. She always is, but it’s good to be polite. At least I think it is. My mind is aswirl.

As her full lips pull apart, leaving small sticky trails to tremble in her quickening breaths, she nods. After settling her warm palms onto me, her fingers dig into the flesh of my buttocks; I arch forward. The nails go deeper. Mom’s mouth tears wide and her head drives back into the pillow when I plunge into her. Still so slick and loose, I can take her in one thrust. And once again, my dad gasps. He never gets tired of watching all of me disappear into her. While he says it’s the creature, his smaller rod glides through his slow-moving fist. Pride echoes from him as I stroke mom.

At first creaking, the bed is soon thumping against the wall as her legs wrap tight around my back. Moans leap from her open lips as Mom’s wide, hungry, desperate eyes lock onto me. The curve of her belly is larger today. She is a mother once again. As I lean over her, the distended slickness of her heavy abdomen rubs against my stomach.

“Is it okay, mom?” I am concerned for its child.

“Yes. Oh, God! Yes!” She misunderstands. But after a rapid nod, her fingers clamp into my rocking buttocks and I just grin at her.

Whether I am feeding her or the creature’s child, I have no idea, but her nails claw deep when I lower my open lips. Eyes white-rimmed, mom flings her head upwards; our tongues meet just before our mouths mash together. As we kiss, mom moans into me; the bed bangs ever louder against the wall. Above us, the last painting swings on its wire, scraping and slapping. Hand racing now, my dad’s breathing is heavy and rapid.

As my toes curl tight, something is going to get fed.

After ripping my lips from mom to gasp for more air, her tongue flails out, and she stares at her husband as I pound her into the thumping mattress. A cry stops in her throat as her gaze flicks back to me. Her fingers stop digging and her legs crush me as her mouth flies open. Inside, her sleek walls are undulating; milking me already. She knows. We’ve done this enough.

With a groan, I drive my pelvis against her and arch my heaving chest up; she shakes in my grip.

“Fill me!” she says before flinging her head back to scream.

While her body slaps between me and the mattress, I unleash spurting jets into her. Atop the shaking bed beside us, dad grunts and soft wet spatters soil the sheets before him. No, it’s not just the creature that ensorcels him, not at all. With a playful grin, I swirl my hips, dragging mom’s shuddering frame around beneath me. Madness and lust fight with hunger in her eyes as they latch on mine. She is my mother. She deserves another one.