All characters in sexual situations are 18 or older. Thanks for reading!
The aircar flew over farmland. Greenhouse towers rose from the earth below, some reaching heights just below their flight path. Theodore had learned in history class that farming used to happen in the open, exposing crops to the vagaries of weather and pests. What an odd thought that was, as he looked out at the neatly ordered glass skyscrapers, each producing tons of clean, healthy food per day. The gods were good, bringing him to life in a civilized era. He glanced at his mother, who was also watching the passing farmland out the window. He had so often cursed his luck having her as his mother. But perhaps the gods had known what they were doing about that, too. He studied the swell of her tits under her bodice, the beguiling angles of her perfect face, and her lustrous, shining black hair pinned carefully in place. He realized that he had stopped breathing, and forced himself to start again.
An awkward silence carried on between them. Penelope felt the discomfort growing. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her son watching her. What did he expect of her?
Should I simply ask him if he wants me to please him? Should we use this time to talk? What should I ask him about? A good mother communicates with her son. Where should I start?
Theodore took a deep breath and broke the silence. "Are you nervous about going back to the hospital? I mean ... it must have been unpleasant finding yourself there ... not knowing what had happened."
"That's very considerate of you to ask, Teddy." Penelope turned her gaze fully on him. He was sitting across from her in the car, slouched in his seat, with one leg straight. His tie was loose, and he wore no jacket. She loved the way he reclined wherever he was. "I ... am not looking forward to going back there. I wouldn't do it without you." Her smile was tight, barely spreading from her lips to her eyes. "It was terrible waking up in that locked hospital room, banging on the door for help. Praying that your father would come for me. And he did, thank the gods."
At the mention of his father, Theodore went quiet again. He looked back out the window. Did the gods have a plan for his father, too?
Can I have only one parent that loves me? Is this some new curse?
Maybe the gods weren't so benevolent.
Penelope could see her son's inner turmoil. It twisted and wrenched her heart. She thought about pouncing on him, but her body wouldn't fix everything. He needed her mind, too. "How are you feeling, lambkin? Are you happy to accompany your mother on these interviews?"
"I'm feeling better, Mom." Theodore couldn't remember her asking him about his feelings in the past. At least, not in the few years leading up to her disappearance. He moved his gaze back to her. She was leaning forward, her eyes inquisitive, her posture at attention. He could see that she really wanted to know.
In that case, why not tell her?
"I've been lonely, Mom. You left me. Then, my friends left after graduation, and I stayed behind. Then ..." Theodore forced himself to swallow the knot forming in his throat. "Then, Victoria left. Even Cora was almost taken from me. I ..." He clenched his fists. The heat of anger rose inside him.
"I understand. I ache that I had a part in this. I never wanted to hurt you. I'm trying to be a better mother." She saw his forehead furrow with rage. That expression both terrified and enthralled her. "You're not alone now, though." She moved over to his seat, sat next to him, and pulled his head to her bosom. She rested his cheek on her bodice, feeling his weight on the top of her breasts. Lovingly, she stroked his hair with her gloved fingers. "I have improved as a mother, haven't I?"
"Yeah, I'd agree to that." Theodore nodded his head, feeling her ample flesh shift under her bodice and bra. He was hard again. It was difficult not to be erect around his mother these days. "I'm still lonely. But ... you've been good for me recently. I know how much effort you're putting into our relationship." He thought about how her face had looked when she'd struggled through the pain of bouncing her pussy on his dick. Her expression had been deeply strained but steadfast. She really was committed to him. The anger that had swelled at his loneliness faded into nothingness. With that gone, his emotions were mostly aligned with ... he wasn't sure.
What am I?
He thought for a moment, and the answer was plain. He was horny. He was horny and grateful to have his cheek on his mother's magnificent tits, with her gloved hands in his hair. A minute later, he watched her gloves drop to the floor before his eyes. Her bare hands were in his hair now, her delicate fingers gently massaging his scalp. He closed his eyes. It felt sublime.
"We still have several hours before we arrive. Would it make you feel less lonely if I took care of your needs?" Penelope sighed. It was so lovely to have him cuddled up to her. His glorious, pudgy body was perfect for snuggling. Her belly flipped over and over, her palms grew clammy, and her vagina thrummed with expectation. She suspected that her panties were already soaked through.
"What about your needs, Mom?" Theodore lifted his face off her bosom and looked into her liquid, green eyes.
"All I need is for you to love me." She smiled at him with warmth, caressing his cheek with her bare hand.
"I love you." Theodore leaned his face close to hers. He saw her eyes grow distant and her lips part. She had the most alluring kiss-me-face.
"I love you too, Teddy," she whispered, her words barely above a breath.
"I'm engaging privacy mode with the car's AI. It doesn't need to see what comes next." Winifred's voice came over the aircar's speakers. "Or, you could simply sit on opposite seats as you were before."
"Yes ... yes ... engage privacy settings." Theodore's face heated with anger at the interruption. "And leave us the fuck alone, Freddie."
"There's no need for that sort of language, Teddy," Winifred said.
"Oh, Teddy, I become undone when you're cross like that. I don't know why it affects me this way." She drank in the sight of him: the way his brow furrowed with rage at their AI.
