My Mother, the Widow - Cover

My Mother, the Widow

Copyright© 2002 by werewolf

Chapter 2

Incest Sex Story: Chapter 2 - A son goes home to claim his inheritance and to reclaim his mother

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Drunk/Drugged   Lesbian   Cheating   Incest   Mother   Son   Brother   Sister   Rough   Swinging   Orgy   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Petting   Fisting   Sex Toys   Water Sports   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism  

We stood together just outside the doorway of the church welcoming the leeches, or perhaps I should have said, our fellow mourners.

I played my part perfectly, the dutiful son comforting the grieving widow, both of us dressed in the sombre black of mourning, even down to the little black g-string I'd pulled up over my mother's stocking clad thighs, barely seconds before the limousine had arrived to carry us to the little church, crawling at a snail's pace behind the hearse.

"Hello" I said, shaking yet another clammy hand, "Thanks for coming"

I swear that by the time the last of the mourners had either shaken my hand or touched their wizened lips to my cheeks, I could actually taste the bloody mothballs, but the tender touch of my mother's lips on mine, as we turned to enter the church, lifted my rapidly sagging spirits

The television crews had agreed to respect our privacy for the funeral and the reception following it, so there was no fear of any smart ass lip readers seeing my mother telling me that her cunt was soaking as the doors closed behind us!

She kept a thigh deliberately pressed against me throughout the service, making me very much aware of the tiny little nub of a suspender button and reminding me of how she'd brought me a cup of coffee up to bed, dressed only in black seamed stockings and high heeled shoes! Or of how she'd squatted over my face while I feasted on her deliciously wet cunt, before I rolled her into a sixty nine and pumped what had seemed like gallons of spunk into her throat!

"My God Michael" she'd giggled as she sat in the chair, one stocking clad thigh over each of the arms, while I shaved the previous day's stubble from around her fragrant little slit.

"This is so fucking sexy"

I could only agree with her as I concentrated on my delicate task, the sheer wantonness on her face though, threatening to divert me from it!

Manfully I'd ignored my fully erect penis and actually settled for a few lascivious licks of my tongue between the creases of her cunt before hurrying to finish dressing for the coming ordeal.

When we stood up to pray for my late (and largely unlamented father) our fingers touched, just that and nothing more, but that little touch said all that needed to be said, the subtle hint of perfume she wore filled my nostrils and aroused me, for Christ's sake I was getting an erection in church!

We allowed the press to take a few photos as we filed out of the church, mum and I being quite content to let the others take the centre stage, posing and looking suitably downcast at the loss of a "dear friend," bollocks!

The reception at a local hotel was even worse, but dutifully I stuck to my mother's side and by and large managed to fend off most of the crawlers who hoped to gain some sort of favour or to introduce themselves as an important part of what was now our company!

With most of them, I was brusque, almost to the point of being rude, at nineteen I was just a babe in arms in their world, but in my world as a sub lieutenant in the British army, I was already a veteran of the mean streets of west Belfast and of the openly hostile country side of south Armagh. I'd been spat at by sweet little old ladies, been given cakes with fillings of excrement, been shot at by players, sneered at by the young dickers, eager to graduate to fully fledged killer status, I felt myself to be more of a match for anyone keen to take me on, which was fortunate because the first candidate made himself known soon after we arrived at the hotel.

"Clive" he said, thrusting a limp paw towards me, "Clive Springer, your father may have spoke about me"

"How do you do" I said politely and looked around for something to wipe my hand with after gripping the dead fish he called a hand.

"No doubt I'll be seeing you shortly" he announced grandly, "The company will need restructuring of course"

He paused for effect at this momentous news.

"And who knows? I may well be able to find an opening somewhere for a bright young boy like yourself!"

"Well that's very kind of you, but in what capacity will you be acting, when you find me this opening, Mr Springer?"

He looked around furtively before saying importantly,

"Ah well obviously your father thought it best to keep it to himself, but it's pretty well understood that your lovely mother here will be only too pleased to let an old hand like me take over the reins"

He winked to mum confidentially and failed to see the quick flash of annoyance in her eyes. I looked at her and she nodded, reading my intentions clearly and correctly.

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