Destinys Child Ch 02 The Conclusion

I suppose it's funny that a young man of twenty believes, without a doubt, that he knows all the answers. Is it any wonder then, that when faced with an inconceivable outcome, he acts upon it to alter the predetermined fate.

As you can guess, things did not unfold as my parents had planned. Instead of heading to the first university, I headed to the airport. When mom realized this, she asked me what I was doing, and I told her, "The idea of me going to school and leaving her behind was not going to happen," and for that, I got one of those 'ahhhhs' which spoke of endearment.

"Since visiting places I wouldn't consider, was a waste of time, I booked a last-minute vacation at a resort in the Dominican Republic."

Another, "Ahhhh."

There was excitement in her, as I explained we would have five days, four nights, with no rules, or the need to hide. We would finally be able to be like regular adults, have date nights, couples experiences and express our love openly.

She held my hand in her own; it was warm, soft, and made me feel important.

I chose to park close to the terminal, knowing that it would cost more, but also aware that besides gaining protection from the elements in the multi-level structure, I had a chance for a quickie, pre-flight. See I had it all worked out. I parked and started to collect the stuff, and once I was on mom's side of the car, I asked if she grabbed the sunscreen.

Knowing she hadn't, since I actually didn't purchase any, I waited for the inevitable, "Honey, I can't find it."

"Try the center console," I urged, as I moved into position. Then, in one quick motion, I ran a hand under her skirt. The first touch had her falling over, but when I reached her panties, she began to struggle back.

"Come on, mom," I urged. "I just want a tiny taste."

"Desmond Anthony Hargreaves," she began, and I knew using my full name was the 'I mean business' tone, but I still managed one solid lick. She seemed for a moment to falter, as her body jerked and slipped a bit deeper in the car, so I licked again.

"Desmond," came the next plea, but this one didn't have much command behind it.

On the third lick, I began inching a finger inside, and the response was, "Oh you," before it strangled off into a kind of gurgled moan.

It was easier now, as her body accommodated my advances. There was no struggle to stop me from licking and probing, and her thighs began to run with signs of excitement. One knee rose up to rest upon the seat, giving this glorious artistic pose of flashing stockings, heels and panties. I wanted a picture, but couldn't risk stopping, so I licked faster and added a second finger.

Suddenly, a sweet long, "Ohhh, fuck me, baby," escaped her lips, and I was already prepared.

My other hand had released and was stroking my cock, so on hearing the urgings, it moved up and sank inside. Even from this short tease, I could feel the shaking in her legs, but I didn't let it overly distract me.

Long, slow strokes sank again and again, until the air was filled with, "Oh baby. Oh, fuck me. Oh, fuck me, baby." So, I sped up.

Now the sweet sound of, "Oh Desmond, you're going to make mommy cum, baby. Faster, faster."

I teased her with a little, "So should I stop, then?"

"If you do, I'll cut it off and finish myself." (I smile every time I recall that answer.)

It was no more than a dozen strokes though, before she screamed out, "YES!"

Then she calmed enough that they couldn't hear her in Alaska. I knew I wanted to finish, but was also aware that if I kept it up, we'd have no energy to get to the plane. So I slowed, until just heavy panting remained, then pulled out and put my equipment away.

As I pulled mom out of the car, and slowly escorted her through the terminal, I asked if she felt better. And I got a very satisfying, if somewhat dreamy, "Mmm-hmm."

On the plane itself, I asked mom if she was ready for this. She smiled, saying it was the nicest gift anyone had ever gotten her. I explained that I intended to take her dancing, horseback riding, scuba diving, and to literally rock her world. Suddenly, a memory flashback reminded me of those very words and how that turned out.

I struggled with that, but it was quickly swept away, when she simply said, "You already have."

She kissed me there at thirty-five-thousand feet and I melted into it, but a stewardess came by and asked if we'd like a drink. Mom said she would have a gin and tonic and I said I didn't need alcohol to dull my senses, then pretended to tickle mom.

The stewardess laughed, a kind of fake laugh, I thought, then she asked, "So cute, have you been married long?"

Mom instantly piped in, "Forty-seven days," and I looked at her smiling from ear to ear.

In my head, I did the calculations, and replied, "You remembered." For it had, indeed, been forty-seven days since the police officer unofficially proclaimed us to be husband and wife.

"I guess that makes this our honeymoon," I offered, with a raised playful eyebrow.

To which she offered, "Hope you remembered to pack the resuscitation kit, then."

I watched as she used the hem of her skirt as a fan, feigning overheating, and how the garter clasps winked in and out of sight. I knew she had done it purposefully and said nothing.

Suddenly, a hand appeared in front of me with a drink. Naturally, it was the stewardess who I had forgotten all about, and as she handed over the drink, she smiled and winked.

I want to say this evolved into a wild inflight free-for-all, but mostly, we talked and just enjoyed the moment. Part of the conversation, though, was that she had written to the young man from the DNA site again, but sadly he had not written back. She wondered why and asked if I might offer any insight, since I was just about his age.

Let me tell you, it is hard to play both sides of the field and I really wanted to come clean, but forever in my mind rested the thought, that if she knew the truth, everything would change. In the end, I decided to tell her that perhaps it was hard to accept that everything you knew was wrong. That he may need time to accept his destiny - to which mom let out a tiny chuckle.

I guess I had a questioning look because she explained that after he was gone, she couldn't face the world, the reporters, or the infamy, so she changed her name to Delores. She was born though Destiny, and my saying he needed time to accept destiny, just seemed humorous.

I tried to act all wise and mature, telling her, there really weren't a lot of choices here. She could continue to write to the young man, in the hopes he would eventually respond, or she could try to give him time. She always knew she wanted him in her life, but he only had a few months to even process this. She had fifteen years of looking, and he had only two months of learning his fate.

At this point, mom interrupted, saying, "What do you mean fifteen years?"

I responded, "Well figuring a high-school crush and sex on prom night, that would have made you eighteen. Add to it nine months gestation that brings you closer to nineteen. Subtract that from your age of thirty-four and you have a son who is fifteen. I knew, of course, this was wrong, but sometimes it is best to play oblivious than shine a light on the truth.

Mom, though, chuckled and said, "That's pretty good, and almost right. My son is actually nineteen not fifteen, and it was junior prom not senior.

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In case there are any nitpickers out there, let me say I know I am supposed to be twenty, but remember doctors had to guess my age and only mom knew my actual birthday.

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"So DNA results come back and say you are the mother, but if his life is to be believed, that means either his or your results were mixed up, you were wrong about who the father was, or he was inadvertently switched at birth.

"If he thinks beyond that, and outright believes your version, then his parents are kidnappers, purchasers of a child on the black market, or adopters, which, in the latter case, means he was stolen - most likely abused, found, could not be identified, and reclassified to be available in the adoption system. Since it was so publicly reported, that means he likely was transported out of state; otherwise, the connection once he'd been found would have been tested and reviewed.

"Simply put - you laid in his lap a conundrum. If he follows up with you, he puts his family or himself at risk of jail or worse. If he were to ask his mom or dad and they were guilty of such a horrendous crime, what would they do to keep the story quiet? If they were not guilty, how do they explain not telling him of his adoption after nineteen years? Surely, it was going to come out and the longer they waited, the more rebellious his reaction.

"There is a chance you might never know him, but no matter how life unfolded from this point on, at least you had a measure of closure. You now knew he had a life, which didn't have to be the case. Sure you were not a part of it, but there is comfort knowing he had at least lived, and was continuing to do so."

Mom kissed me after that, thanked me for the wisdom of my words and for being her rock to lean upon. It gave her a lot to think about, and even some idea of the struggles he must now be faced with. She snuggled up and hugged me tightly saying, "You have such a beautiful, romantic mind; I am glad you are my husband."

There was a long moment of silence, before mom spoke again. "Des, can I ask you something?"

"Sure mom, anything."

"Should I stay married to your father?"

Wow! I mean WOW! How the hell was I supposed to answer that?

I guess I was silent for a long time because mom started to speak again. "I know it's a hard question, Des, but I have been thinking about it a lot. I mean I thought I loved him, but then you grew up and you changed everything. At first, I thought it was just because you kinda look like my high-school sweetheart, but I know it's more. Every moment I get to spend with you, feels right. And every time I am with your dad, I feel like I am cheating on you and it breaks my heart. I want to be just yours, Des."

I took a long breath then said, "Mom, I can't tell you what to do. All I can say is trust yourself. No matter what, I will try and be with you as your son, a lover, and ultimately as your partner. I don't really care what others think of our relationship because these are my feelings and my life, so only I can say what is right for me.

"There is a kind of thrill at taking you, my own personal forbidden fruit, but I love you unconditionally. You obviously know I like the risks of potentially getting caught, and sure I struggle with dad getting to see you naked or being with you, but those are my issues. I wouldn't trade what I have for the world, but I can't pretend I don't think of what it would be like if you were my wife."

Mom was quiet for a while, then simply said, "I love you." She seemed to nestle in closer if that were even possible, and I watched as her legs curled up under her. Amazingly, a few minutes later, mom had fallen asleep.

A while later, the stewardess came by and smiled, as she saw mom all curled up against me. Oddly enough, she paused beside me to ask if there was anything she could get me, and I jokingly said, "Feeling in my right arm would be nice, but I'll wait until food is served."

Moments later, she returned with a coke and a blanket. As she handed me the coke and began unfolding the blanket, I said, "I didn't order these," but she patted my free arm and bent over me provocatively to arrange the blanket on mom.

"I know, hon," came her soft response, "but sometimes, we don't really know what we want."

I felt the heat as her thigh pressed against my leg and from the hand resting on my shoulder for balance, as she leaned to adjust the blanket on mom. I would have helped, but with mom on my shoulder and the other hand filled with an unwanted drink I was trapped.

All I could really see was her tight uniform bent before me, with its lithe curves and haunting scent. As her task was completed and she rose up, her support hand glided down my shoulder to my bicep, where it gave a near imperceptible squeeze.

"Food will be served in about an hour, hon," was all she said, then disappeared down the aisle behind me.

Later when lunch arrived, and mom woke up, she smiled and thanked me for the blanket. I told her that was all the stewardess, who by the way, was acting very peculiar. I explained what happened and my impressions. Mom laughed, saying, "Maybe you should sit by the window for protection."

After lunch, mom excused herself for the bathroom, but moments later, the stewardess was back asking if everything was to my liking. Sure, I noticed that the top three buttons of her uniform were now open, and how she leaned slightly in, as though having a quiet private conversation. But in my distraction of looking, her thigh once again pressed against my leg.

My eyes could not help but look down at the contact and as my head rose to respond, mom interrupted saying, "Hon, how about you take the window seat for a while."

The stewardess seemed to jump, as she straightened up and backed away, but mom stood there in the aisle staring her down, until she was out of sight in the galley.

Once in place, mom curled up, leaned against my other arm and smiled widely.

"How about a movie?" she asked.

To which I smiled, and said, "Sure."

As I was scanning through the options, mom said, "So, she's pretty cute, don't you think?"

I looked at mom anxiously awaiting my response, and replied, "Sure, she's okay, but she doesn't hold a candle to you." Mom hugged me, as though that were the right answer, but honestly, it was my truth. Nobody from school, work, or life... ever had, what mom had.

As the movie started, we shared a headset, and mom arranged the blanket, asking if it was okay. As justification for this, she said it's kinda nice and the plane is cool. Me, I was comfortable pre-blanket, but if it made her happy, why not.

It couldn't have been more than ten minutes before mom's hand under the blanket, began stroking my cock through my jeans. My immediate reaction was to jump slightly, then look about nervously, but mom just shifted tactics.

She began a systematic, very light tracing, as though she were drawing and shading my cock with a single finger. I could feel it swelling, hungry, anxious and begging for release. Soon enough, mom's fingers worked open the zipper, then stole inside to grasp, and stroke and pull on her desire.

A moment later, it was free of both my underwear and pants, and the small ring of her forefinger and thumb attempted to encircle it. They glided with practised skill up and down, moulding to the surface until a second, then third finger joined the play. For a moment, they paused just under the head and squeezed before the forefinger caressed over the top, to coat itself in the sweet viscous pre-cum.

She used the new slippery coating to increase stimulation, especially at the helmet's rim by rotating her slick fingers under the head in a half twist, before vanishing again back to the cock's base. Mom seemed intimately aware of just how much I could take though, for time and again, she paused just as I wanted to find release.

I tried distracting her in one of those moments, by stroking her breast through the light material of her blouse, and discovered she had removed her bra at some point and I had not noticed. I felt the over-sensitive nipple, which fired a spasming jolt through her and a leg dropped from the seat. Then before I could build up another, mom pulled back the blanket and swallowed me whole.

The timing and speed were unmatched, yet it was the warm, moist, pressure-filled chamber that truly set me off. Mom's tongue flattened inside to drag along the shaft, as it slowly moved in and out, and I felt, more than noticed, she had covered her head with the blanket.

She teased and tormented my desires in a slow, meticulous way that I presumed was to keep any slurping sounds at bay, but who truly knew. All I could say was when the end came, it felt like mom had swallowed the entire thing and I was spitting hot cum down her throat.

She was slow to release her prize, too; for long after the hard jerking spasms left, she was still caressing the shaft with her tongue and fingers.

I want to say I reciprocated, but mom was a sly one and held me at bay, until we landed. Yet, I can add one more tiny detail to this recounting. As we prepared to de-plane, I slipped a hand under mom's skirt, as she reached in the overhead bin for her luggage. Not only had she lost her bra, but her panties had vanished, too.

From the airport, we went to the resort by transfer van, a small vehicle which handled eight passengers, the driver and luggage. As it turned out, mom and I were cramped into the back row with the luggage, but I for one was thankful. I checked out the passengers and driver in front of me, then looked at mom and placed a hand upon her thigh. Moments later, I moved it up until her hand stopped me, at the hem of her dress. I smiled a soft knowing smile, and returned it to her knee, then tried again.

I didn't know how long this transfer would take, but I didn't care, I knew what I wanted. Time and again my hand moved up to the hem and was blocked, so it retreated, yet I sensed some weakness and I continued.

Slowly, mom's will vanished, and I was permitted the bare flesh above her stockings. My fingers rolled inside, deeper between the thighs, and ultimately made contact. Her pussy parted for my fingers, she was biting her lip, and placed her purse between my hand and potential observers. I felt the hard bud of her clit, and began stroking around it, as her thighs squirmed, but then, as I attempted to slip inside, the van turned into our destination.

We checked in, and made it as far as the room interior, before mom grabbed me and literally threw me on the bed. There was no time to remove clothes, she just took me out, straddled me and rode me for all she was worth.

Screaming "Fuck me baby. Oh my God, you made mommy so wet. Come on baby fuck me, make mommy come. Oh fuck yes like that, like that. Oh my God yes baby!" Then she collapsed on top of me panting and shaking.

My cock and hips kept stroking in and out, although this change in angle meant it wasn't as deep, or as forceful. I could feel her heart beating, and her breath upon my neck, but I held her close and just kept going. After a short interlude, a new moan escaped her lips, and my cock seemed to swell with pride.

"Baby," she began "ohhhhh"

My speed increased a tiny bit, and her hips rolled down, sinking my cock in deeper

"I want that sweet seed inside me, baby."

I kept going. I could feel the intensity growing, feel her body responding, and for just a moment I thrust as hard as I could. Suddenly her own hips wildly reacted, spasming to drive it a tiny bit deeper, but unable to maintain a constant pressure it yo-yoed. The added sensation set me off, and as I started cumming, my hips renewed their thrusting, as fast as I could.

Suddenly she was screaming "Oh fuck baby - I'm cumming. I'm cumming again! Oh baby, fill mommy with that hot seed! Oh my God. Oh my God... Babyyyyyy"

Finally the sensation seemed too much, for she rolled off me, and I could visibly see spasms in muscles around her stomach and legs. She held both her breasts, squeezing them softly through her blouse, while her lips panted out breathlessly.

Ever so slowly, the symptoms seemed to subside, and as we lay in each other's arms I asked "So do you need the resuscitation kit yet?"

She laughed and hit me square in the chest with her hand saying "You"

I kissed her once then added "Maybe now we should close the door?"

I watched as her head rose to look, then briefly at me, before asking "Did you know the whole time?"