In Safe Hands

"If you don't want this," she said, "say so and I'll stop. I'll try to stop."

"I want it," I said, and she smiled. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you to do what Mommy says." Goosflesh stippled her beasts.

I nodded. "Sure."

Another smile.

She came onto the bed, her hands positioning me, getting me exactly where she wanted. Then she lay in front of me and shuffled close. She raised one leg and wrapped it across my waist, but low down so when she drew closer still my cock lay against her belly. I wondered if it was a precaution, in case I tried to fuck her.

She tugged on my leg, wanting it raised and I did so, letting her lie it across herself, wrapping us together like a tied parcel.

"Oh baby," she said, something sad in her voice, but I said nothing. My cock burned, ached.

Mom slid her hand between us, searching, finding, fingers wrapping around me.

Her breasts flattened against my chest.

Her lips kissed my neck, my cheeks, avoiding my mouth for the moment.

"Fuck my hand," she said, her words soft. "Fuck my hand like you're fucking me, Adam. Like your fucking your Mom." There was pain in her voice, but it was the pain of need, not shame.

I started to move, pushing into her fist, the sensation exquisite.

"Yes, baby," she whispered, "fuck me like that."

I laid an arm over her, my hand on the curve of her ass, and she pressed tighter against me, all heat and want and need. There was only one way this was going to end but it was what we both wanted.

"Do it like I know you want to, baby." This time her lips brushed across mine, a feather touch, then gone.

I clutched at her ass, my fingers tracing the cleft between, and Mom made a sound deep in her chest. Beneath us the bed springs creaked and each time I thrust the bedhead knocked against the wall.

"Any time you're ready," she said, her voice shaking with my thrusts.

I pushed my other hand beneath her, clutching the other side of her ass, thrusting. She didn't move her hand. It was there for me to use, not for her to use on me, and my cock slid through her grip, striking her belly. Her breasts pressed, flattened, withdrew. Her mouth returned and finally covered mine, both of us hungry for the contact. I opened my lips and waited. After a moment her tongue came out, exploring. I lay passive, allowing her to invade my mouth while I continued to fuck her hand. I pulled the cheeks of her ass wide and ran a finger along the full length of her cleft and she pushed her tongue further between my lips.

"Do it, Adam," she said, her words tangled between our mouths. "Please, baby, I need this so bad."

She needed it? I didn't understand. It was me fucking her hand, me clutching her ass, me pressing against her. And she needed it? But my mind didn't want to think about anything other than the growing pressure that was demanding release.

I thrust, thrust again, and spilled.

Mom gasped, drawing me tighter as I shook against her. My cum slicked her fist, making my passage easier as I thrust over and over, emptied over and over, slicking us both with my emissions until there was nothing left. Then she drew her hand clear and laid it around me, pulled me close until her head rested against my chest. We breathed together, fast at first then slower, synchronised.

"Oh, baby," she said, and I saw tears glitter in her eyes. I put a finger under her chin and lifted her face so I could kiss her.

"Not now," I said, and she nodded as if she understood, which was more than I did.

This time she made no effort to clean us up. We lay tangled together, belly to belly as my seed dried on our skins and sleep took us like falling into the eye of a hurricane.

*

When I woke it was a natural rising from somewhere deep, calm and safe. No terrors had grasped me in the night. No scream had spilled from my mouth. But I was alone, still naked, tangled in the sheets. My cock ached from what we had done. I felt good, like something I had been dragging around for months had released. I was lighter. Happier.

I rolled onto my back and looked around. An empty room.

I wondered how long I had slept alone.

My hand reached out, patted the mattress. Cool.

I glanced at the other pillow. There was a depression where Mom's head had lain, but no Mom.

I rolled across and buried my face in her pillow and breathed in. Her scent. Sex still on her and the smell of her bath. I inhaled the smell, growing half hard, enjoying the sensation.

The house was silent. I glanced at the alarm and knew why I had woken alone. The clock showed ten after eight. Mom had risen and gone to work four hours earlier while I slept the sleep of the sated.

I rolled on my back, my hand dropping to circle my cock as I replayed what had happened. How it felt as I spilled my seed across her smooth belly. How the cheeks of her ass felt gripped in my palms.

My cock came harder and I glanced down, watching myself stroke it. I didn't know if I wanted to make myself come or not, but believed if I didn't stop what I was doing that's just what would happen.

I pictured Mom's breasts, heavy, swaying as she moved against me.

Pictured her on her knees while I pushed my cock into her as she mumbled into the pillows to fuck her harder.

Pictured her with my cock between her lips as I spilled seed onto her tongue, kissing her afterward so I tasted what I had gifted her, and as I did that seed jetted from me and splashed my chest.

She was my Mom. What we had done was wrong, but we had both done it, both wanted it. I thought we had both wanted it.

As my cock softened I thought about what might happen when she got home. What might happen in the weeks to come. The events of the night before felt like a dream. A better dream than I was used to, but a dream all the same.

My hand ran along my belly, encountering the slick cum coating me. It made me think of how it had been the night before and I wondered, had it actually happened, had it been real?

I rolled from the bed and padded into the bathroom and took a shower. Then I dressed in jogging pants and tank top and ran the mile to the bakery. I reached there a little before nine and went in the back door, almost bouncing off Jasmine as she came through with a tray of sweet rolls.

"Hey, honey boy, watch where you going or we'll end up in a tangled heap on the floor." She did a movement that set off reverberations throughout her entire set of curves and slid the tray of rolls onto the wooden table top. Then she came back toward me, pushing me until my back was against the now closed door.

"Sorry, Jaz," I said, but it was too late. She pressed even closer, her body touching mine. Closer still, pulling me toward her now.

"You gotta apologise proper to me, Adam." Her mouth covered mine and I pushed her away, my hands against her breasts instead of her shoulders where I meant them to be, and she took it as encouragement, her own hand snaking down to my cock.

"No, Jaz!" I pushed again, slipping past her.

When I glanced back, sure she had to be mad, Jaz only laughed. "Next time, honey child. You missin' somethin' fine here, real fine." She cupped her breasts and shook them.

I went through to the bakery. Mom was taking bread out the oven and I stopped to watch. Perhaps sensing me Mom half turned, her face serious when she saw me.

"What are you doing here?" she said.

"I came to help."

"Dressed like that?"

I looked down. "You took the car. How was I going to get here?"

"You were meant to sleep late." Still no smile, and something turned to ice in my stomach.

"It is late," I said, and that at least lifted one corner of her pretty mouth. "What can I do?"

"You'll have to stay here dressed the way you are. Put on a coat and help with the rolls, then you can cook the next batch of beignets."

We worked around each other, turning like long practiced dancers. I wanted to reach out and touch her, stroke her when we passed, but I didn't. Something had changed. Last night had happened, shifting what lay between us. I knew Mom must be regretting what we did. Well, if she did I sure as hell didn't. The memory would remain with me until the day I died.

Jaz came back through to stack more trays and I made sure I stayed well away from her.

We came to the end of the dough and Mom started to clean the trays and vats. I took the heavy steel tubs and sank them into the big sinks and started to wash them out. It took almost an hour until we were done then Mom came across and stood in front of me. She reached out, took my hands in hers and held them between us.

"About last night," she said, her face serious.

I nodded. "My fault. I shouldn't have let it happen."

She tilted her head to one side, eyes flicking to and fro against mine. "Is that what you think, Adam? It was a mistake?"

"You're acting strange, Mom. Like you're mad at me. And I said I was sorry."

"No," she said. "You said it was your fault. Are you sorry, Adam? Because I'm not. Not sorry at all."

She stepped closer. Lifted my hands so they lay caught in hers along the valley between her breasts. She came closer still. Her face tilted up to mine and when she parted her lips I kissed her.

Mom responded, her mouth hungry for more, and my tongue slid through against hers, the two of us fighting to see who could kiss the hardest. I grasped her breast, feeling the potent weight of it. Mom ground her hips against me.

Some movement caught my attention and when I pulled away it was to discover Jaz standing in the doorway between the shop and the bakery watching us. She had one hand on her breast, the other beneath her skirt and I wondered how long she had been there.

I stepped away from Mom, who reached out to stop me.

I nodded, indicating Jaz, and Mom jerked around. But now Jaz had stopped touching herself and half turned, as if she hadn't witnessed what we had done.

"We're done here," Mom said. "You OK to close up?"

"Sure, honey," Jaz said. She entered the room all the way now, came up beside Mom and laid an arm across her shoulder. "You go home with your handsome boy. The pair of you got a lot to catch up on, I'm sure." She kissed Mom on the side of the mouth, her eyes on me as she did so, her message as clear as day.

I drove home. Mom sat beside me staring out the window, quiet.

Inside she walked ahead of me, climbed the stairs and after a moment I heard the bathroom door open then close. The lock snicked. A minute later the shower began to run.

I drank a glass of water, then stood in the kitchen staring out the window at the yard. I had images in my head of packing my stuff and finding somewhere else to stay. How could we live under the same roof feeling what we did? It was obvious Mom was fighting her feelings—though maybe feelings was the wrong word. Her urges. Her needs. She was young enough to have those in spades. And I was the wrong person to satisfy them.

I drank more water then went upstairs and started to lay my stuff out.

"What are you doing?"

I hadn't heard the shower stop or Mom come into my room, too lost in my own misery.

"I'm trying to make it easy on you," I said. "On both of us." I turned to look at her, dressed in a fluffy white towel and, as far as I could tell, nothing else.

"I don't want it easy," she said, "I want it hard."

She tugged at the towel and it dropped to her feet. She was, of course, naked underneath. She was also naked between her thighs. She must have shaved her pussy in the shower. For me? Of course for me.

She stood with her feet planted apart, her hands loose, allowing my eyes to track across the wonder of her body.

"I wish I was younger," she said.

"You're perfect."

She gave a tight laugh. "Sure. You say that now but it ten years, twenty, you'll be looking for young pussy. You won't want me."

"I'll always want you," I said.

"Really?" She started across the room. The drapes were open, midday sunlight streaming in, lighting her like a spotlight.

"Really," I said. My hands went to her waist and pulled her against me. She smelled of soap and shampoo and we kissed again, her hands tugging at my clothes until I was naked too. Then she went onto her knees and took my cock deep into her mouth, almost the entire length until I was sure she was going to gag but she didn't.

"Mm-mm," she said, head bobbing.

I thrust against the pressure of her lips, feeling a sudden urge to spill wildly into her mouth and fighting it down. I wanted more than a fast fuck. I wanted to worship her.

I grabbed her under the arms and lifted. She fought me, but it was a fruitless task and she let me lift her. We kissed again, and I tasted my cock on her mouth and it got me even harder.

I lifted her, light as a feather, and carried her to the bed. Laid he gently on the covers then kissed her directly on her pussy.

"Unh," she said, then parted her thighs wider.

I opened her with my tongue, amazed at how slick her folds were. I grasped her ass in one hand, her breast in the other, and used my mouth, resisting when she tried to drag me away. I wanted her to climax first, before we did anything else, and eventually she did, shaking and crying out.

I climbed across her, mouth on hers so she could taste herself on me as I had tasted myself on her.

Then I rolled her onto her front and laid across her, pushing her legs apart with my knee. I gripped my cock and laid it against the opening my tongue had only just left. Mom lifted herself, making the passage easier, and I slid into her until my belly was against the soft cushion of her ass.

I began to thrust, movement jagged and fast, knowing the moment of restraint had gone. I bit my lip, riding against Mom until I could hold out to longer. I thought, for an instant, about pulling out and splashing over her ass but it was never going to happen.

I emptied deep inside her, gasping, clutching at her breasts as I pumped over and over.

Then, as she slumped to the bed I laid across her until my cock softened and slid free, spilling my seed along her thighs.

Mom rolled over, breathing hard, and I kissed her belly, her breasts, her mouth.

Her hand stroked my slick cock. She slid along me until she could suck it between her lips, leaving a sheen against them.

I started to grow hard again and she laughed, the sensation strange because my cock was still in her mouth.

She lifted away and sat across my hips, moving slowly from side to side.

"Young men," she said, "you gotta just love 'em, don't you?"

I grabbed her ass and tried to impale her on me but she twisted away, went down along my body once more.

"This time," she said, holding my cock and examining it, "you get to come in my mouth. After that you can fuck me. And the time after that I'm thinking I'd like you in my ass." She looked along me, a grin on her face. "Do you have an objection to any of that?"

I shook my head. No objection at all.

*

Two years have passed since I quit the army. I don't know if they were happy or not to let me go. The army doesn't like to show they care, whether they do or not.

We sold the bakery and moved to the west coast and bought another in a small town south of San Francisco. We rise before dawn to bake bread and cakes and in the afternoon I swim in the cold ocean and run the hills, and when I get back we touch each other in all our secret places.

As far as the world knows we are man and wife. Mom looks young and I guess I look a little older than I did.

Our daughter is due in a month but that doesn't stop us fucking every chance we get, If anything it leads to some interesting positions, and I have to admit stroking Mom's tight belly as I spill into her is better than anything I've ever experienced.

Jasmine has promised to come out when the baby is born to help out. She emailed to say she'd left her husband, and I'm trying to work out what Mom thinks about her coming to stay, and exactly where things might lead. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters but the two of us. Soon to be three.

As I soften inside Mom our daughter kicks and rolls inside her, preparing to make an appearance.