Chapter 3

Bobby slowly opened his eyes. It took him a few moments to remember where he was as he looked at the clock over the refrigerator. It was already three o'clock in the afternoon. Where had the day gone?

He wracked his brain trying to remember. Suddenly, with a shock, it all came roaring back into his brain.

"Could it have been a dream or had it really happened?" he asked himself.

Down deep inside, he hoped that it had really happened, but he knew that the probability of that was small. Just then he caught the fragrance of his mother's perfume, erotic and mysterious floating in the air. Breathing in deeply, he savored its smell. He loved the smell of her perfume. Then he gradually became aware of the heavy scent musk in the air. The smell of sex was so strong, it almost masked his mother's perfume. The air in the room reeked with it.

He suddenly became aware of his mother sleeping beside him. He could feel the heat from her body and sense the rhythmic rise and fall of the sheets with every breath she took. But that didn't really mean anything. She could have gotten cold during the night and came in to be next to the fire. How would he know?

Finally, his mind began to work again. What was she wearing? Did she have her pajamas on? That would be the key. He knew that he was naked, but he always slept in the nude, so that didn't mean anything.

He had to find out what she wore underneath the thin sheet that covered her. Was she wearing anything, or was she naked. Just the thought of her lying next to him naked sent a spasm of excitement tearing through his cock. He had to know.

Timidly, he ever so carefully reached down and slowly lifted the sheet that covered them both. Then taking a deep breath, he peered under it.

GOD, HIS MOTHER WAS NAKED. So it hadn't been a dream. He felt another jolt of excitement spark through his cock as he realized that It must have really happened. He reran the whole erotic episode through his mind.

It had really happened. He had actually fucked his mother. Feeling his prick rapidly begin to harden, he ran his hand down to it. He found it covered with dried secretions of thier love-making. God, he had fucked his mother. Just like he remembered.

Suddenly he felt a deep, overwhelming tenderness toward her as he stared at her lovely face. She was a beautiful woman and he loved her so much. His heart was so full of love for her, it ached.

Feeling overwhelmed by his love for her, he knew that what he felt for her was much more than just love. He still loved her as his mother, but now there was more. He loved as a lover, too. He wanted to have her as his own. He didn't want to share her with any one else. He had unexpectedly become extremely jealous of her. Even after making love to her all night long, he found himself wanting her again.

As his cock continued to tingle and grow, he slowly peeled the sheet down off her body. He still thought her breasts were the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen. He adoringly watched them as they rose and fell with each breath she took. He was tempted to take one of the big, bulging nipples in his mouth, but knew that he had other things to do first. That could come later. At least he hoped that it would, but he didn't know how she would react to their incestuous rendezvous.

Begrudgingly, he gently rolled out of bed. Standing up, he saw that his cock was already half hard again. Smiling with smugness, he walked over to the window and looked out. The skies were gradually clearing. While dark and foreboding clouds were still whipping across the sky, there was an occasional glimpse of blue sky through them. The rain had tapered off dramatically. There was now only an intermittent spattering of rain as the heavier clouds went overhead. It looked like the rains were over, but the trail down the mountain would probably still be impassable.

He stood watching the clouds float by for a few moments, then he turned and plodded back to the room where he had imprisoned the stranger. Opening the door, he saw that the man still hadn't moved. Bending over him, Bobby reached down to feel for a pulse. The instant he touched the man, he jerked his hand back in shock. He knew there was no reason to check for a pulse. The man's skin was cold to the touch and rigor mortis had set in. He was obviously dead.

Bobby broke out in a cold sweat as he stood looking down at the corpse.

Oh, Shit, what have I done? Will I have to go to jail for killing him? It had been self-defense, hadn't it? Oh, God, I hope that they believe me.

Stumbling back out of the room, he closed the door and locked it. Why had he locked the door? It was fairly obvious that the man wasn't going anywhere.

"Are you all right?" he heard his mother call from the couch as he reeled out of the room.

"Uh, uh, Yeah, uh, sure," he stammered, "uh, gotta use bathroom."

Rushing into the bathroom, he closed the door and tried to gather his thoughts.

What could he do? It was patently clear that there wasn't much he could do for the cadaver in the back room. He had already done all he could for the stranger. He had helped him find his maker.

Would he have to go to jail for killing the man? It was self-defense wasn't it? Kind of, anyway. Hell, they hadn't asked the man to come into their cabin. He had just burst in and taken over. He had brought it all on himself.

Well, it was all water under the bridge now. What would come, would come.

Splashing his face with cold water, he looked into the mirror. His eyes were immediately drawn down to his groin where his cock now dangled down lifelessly. The shock of seeing the dead man had momentairly deflated his love sword. He also saw that his groin was still covered with dry semen. With a sudden sense of shame, he quickly stepped into the shower to wash away the evidence of his transgression. As he showered, the shock of finding the man dead began to wane. Obscene thoughts of what he and his mother had done were already filling his mind again. If it hadn't been for the dead man, his mother would still be his mother and not his lover, too. As much as he hated the man, he had to thank him for that.

Drying off, he threw the towel on the hamper and started for the door. As he started to turn the doorknob, he realized that he was about to brazenly walk out into the presence of his mother without a stitch of clothes on. What would she think? Would she think him arrogant and insolent, parading his conquest before her? It would probably be more discreet to cover himself and not flaunt his nudity in front of her. After all, she was still his mother.

Quickly wrapping a towel around his waist, he opened the door and walked out of the bathroom.

"What's wrong, you sounded upset?" his mother asked him.

Looking over to where she sat, he saw that she was making no attempt to cover her herself as she sat on the couch smiling at him. The sheet they had slept under had fallen down and was draped across her legs.

A tiny spark of excitement shot through his cock as his eyes quickly dipped down to her big, drooping breasts.

"Did I do something wrong last night?" she asked him.

"Oh, No, NO," he blurted out, "Last night was was unbelievable."

"Well, what is wrong?" she yawned, stretching and sending her breasts into a spasm of jiggling and wiggling.

"Uh, the man," he started to say.

"What is wrong with him?" his mother interrupted, "Is he okay?"

"I don't think so," Bobby said, walking over to the couch.

"Do I need to look at him?" she asked him, sliding her long, tanned legs out from under the covers, "I took a course in first aid once, even though I think it is more than he deserves."

"Well," he hesitated, "unless you know how to bring him back from the dead, you would be wasting your time."

"WHAT?" she gasped, her face turning as white as the sheet draped over her thighs.

"He's dead," Bobby said emphatically.

"Dead?"

"I'm afraid so. Gone to meet his maker. Dead. Beyond help. However you want to say it."

"Oh, My Goodness,"

Bobby sat down by his mother and took her hands in his. They sat this way for several minutes staring into each other's eyes. Neither of them spoke until at last, Bobby squeezed her hand.

"There was nothing we could do to keep him alive,"

"I guess not," she shivered. "but it is spooky having a dead man in the back room."

"Well," he smiled at her, "at least he won't be bothering us any more. Now we are all alone."

"Yes, I suppose we are," she said, "all alone."

"I'm sorry that he died," she said softly, "but we didn't do anything wrong."

"That's right," he agreed, unable to stop from looking down at her breasts as they quivered and shook eroticly.

"He brought it on himself," she said softly.

"Right," he agreed again.

"Well, fuck him," she said, venom creeping into her voice, "I'm not going to let what he did ruin my life."

"I agree," Bobby smiled mischieviously, brazenly looking down at his mother's exposed breasts once again.

"Oh," his mother laughed softly when she saw him staring at her breasts, "and why is it that you have my love-toy covered up?"

"I didn't want to seem to obvious," he said, blushing slightly, "in case you were having second thoughts about what we had done."

"The only second thoughts I'm having is about having seconds," she smiled, standing up and looking down at him.

"You mean that you don't feel bad about what we did?"

"Should I?" she asked, turning and heading for the bathroom, "I'll be right back. Make us a snack and we can talk about it."

His eyes were automatically drawn down to her round, perfectly proportioned ass as it wiggled and jiggled seductively with each step she took.

As his eyes followed her, he was surprised when she stopped at the door of the bathroom.

Smiling proudly, she looked back over her shoulder at him.

"You like?" she laughed softly, tossing her hair and stepping into the bathroom.

This couldn't be happening. His mother was treating him as an equal. A lover. A friend. It was inconceivable, he thought as he watched her disappear into the bathroom.

This woman was his mother. The woman who had; wiped his ass when he shit in his pants, made him clean his room; made him eat his veggies; made him do all those distastful things that mothers make kids do. Yes, she was this same mother, but now she was also something different. She wasn't just his mother. She was treating him as man, and a lover, not some foolish child.

He had expected her to show some remorse or anguish for what they had done, but she didn't. Not one iota. Maybe she was hiding it for his sake, but he didn't think so. She didn't usually hide her feelings.

Listening, he heard the shower come on. Picturing her standing under the water, letting it run down her beautiful body, he got up. His cock was now fully inflated and standing at attention as he hurriedly prepared them a hearty snack and opened a bottle of wine. Waiting for her, he stood by the cabinet slowly stroking his cock and sipping on a glass of wine. She took longer than he had expected and he had almost brought himself to the point of ejaculation several times and finished two glasses of wine before he heard the bathroom door open.

Letting go of his throbbing prick, he held a glass of wine up and saluted her as she walked out.

"To the most beautiful woman in the world," he brashly exclaimed.

He almost dropped the glass as his eyes feasted on her beauty.

"What? Were you expecting something else," she brazenly laughed, seeing that he couldn't take his eyes off her as she strolled toward him.

"Uh, No, I just can't get over how beautiful you are," he foundered, openly gawking at her.

"Well, let me see you, too," she chirped, walking up and jerking on the knot that held his towel wrapped around his waist.

"Oh," she gulped as the towel dropped to the floor exposing his ripe hardness jutting out at her, "God, you have a lovely cock."

Lovingly, she wrapped her hand around it and gently squeezed it sending a shiver of pleasure coursing through it.

He groaned as she intimately fondled his cock.

Smiling at him mischievously, she turned her back to him. Still holding onto his bloated maleness, she inched back and wickedly rubbed her ass up against it.

As she slowly rubbed her soft, full rearend up against his swollen manhood, Bobby reached around and took her breasts in his hands.

"God, I love your breasts," he murmured, familiarly fondling their heavy indolence. "They feel so soft and heavy. Like they were full of milk."

"I'm sorry that I don't have any milk for my baby," she mewed, "but, is there anything else my baby would like?"

"Just let me fuck you, forever and ever," he told her, squeezing her big, pendant breasts.

She let him paw her breast for a few moments as she played with his rock hard penis. Then she slowly leaned over the table. Pulling away from his groping, grasping hands she bent over until her body was bent at almost a ninety degree angle over the table. Thrusting her butt back against him, she reached out and pulled the plate of snacks over in front of her. She slowly began to pick and eat the snacks as she deliberately rubbed her ass against his resurgent manhood.