1. Saturday dawned. The early morning was dull and gray and promised rain. Martin was up by six and quickly shaved and showered. His wedding day! His fiancée Isabelle and had decided to sleep apart for the few weeks before the wedding, so he was alone. But his wedding was not uppermost in his mind. Still trembling with the remnants of his rage from the previous day, he padded to his mother's suite. He entered the anteroom and paused. The door to the bedroom was ajar and dim light of the early morning filtered in.
He hesitated by the door, but was emboldened by the silhouette of his mother's form on her huge king bed. The silence in the room was broken every few moments by a low sound that he could not immediately place. Craning his neck into the room, it became clearer – his mother was moaning softly in her sleep. Martin advanced slowly into the room. Carmen's form became clearer as he approached. He stopped at the foot of the bed and stood stock-still.
She lay on her back but her torso was twisted so that from waist down she was on her side. She was naked except for the white stockings with pink ties from the day before and a long pink chiffon scarf tied in a big bow around her neck. Her arms were flung up towards the head of the bed, elevating her magnificent breasts. Evidence of Jack's rough treatment was stark. Even in the dim light, Martin could see the mass of bruises around her nipples as well as the angry welts on her buttocks where Jack had spanked her.
After the afterglow of her lovemaking with Jack had subsided, the pain had set in. Her breasts and her buttocks felt raw. Her virgin ass felt as though a hot bar of steel were still inserted in it. She could not lie on her buttocks or her breasts. She had taken sleeping pills to ward off the pain and escape into the refuge of slumber.
In repose, her face was beautiful, her blonde mane scattered about the pillow. But each time she moaned, her forehead furrowed. Martin felt a lump form in his throat. He advanced around the bed and gently sat down by her side. Just as he did so, she moaned again. A deep feeling of tenderness and protectiveness came over him, fueled by his longstanding obsession. Impulsively, he leaned forward and ran his wet tongue over one of her abused nipples. He was gratified to hear her sigh. He tongued her other nipple. She breathed deeply and sighed again, causing her breasts to jounce enticingly. Very gently, he ran fingers over both her breasts, spreading his saliva into a fine sheen. Martin felt his cock growing and hardening. Years of voyeurism made this moment supremely exciting.
Another low moan escaped her lips, but to Martin's ear it sounded less troubled. Still massaging her breasts very gently, he leaned low over her lower belly and inhaled deeply of the aroma of her crotch. After so many years of masturbating with her panties stuffed in his nose, the smell of the real thing went to his head like a drug. He continued to gently stimulate her abused and sore nipples and now blew gently into her crotch. Her pubic triangle of fine blonde down rippled under his ministrations. She sighed again and her outflung arms stretched, causing her breasts to bobble under his touch.
'Darling ... ,' she mumbled in her sleep. Martin was thrilled and emboldened. He grew more daring and stuck out the tip of his tongue, just barely touching her labia. Her position on her side meant that he had to push his face deeply into her crotch to reach her vulva. She smelled musky and faintly sweet. He caught a whiff of her perfume along with her womanly scents. Unbidden, the thought ran through his head – she perfumes her cunt!
He continued to tongue her thick nether lips, eliciting more deep sighs. The sleeping pills kept her under the surface, even as her mind recognized the pleasurable sensations and sought to emerge into consciousness. She stirred, flexing her arms and mumbling. Martin could only catch the odd intelligible word, like 'Darling!' or 'Oh, yes!'
By now Martin had lost all inhibition. He gently stroked her buttocks as his mouth found her clitoris. He licked it and sucked on it. He felt her hands on the back of his head, but she was not pushing him away. Her hands ruffled his hair, as she so often did. His ministrations were having an effect. Her cunt was growing damper and damper. As seconds turned to minutes, her crotch grew wet and then soaking. Martin delightedly inhaled her womanly juices.
Dimly he realized that her moans had turned to words: her voice came into his leaden brain.
'Martin, Martin, ....' His mother's voice was slurred, thick with sleep. But she was aware of him and what he was doing. Slowly, slowly, Carmen came up out of her deep slumber. First of all she became aware of the burning pain in her ass and around her abused nipples. Secondly, she became aware of the heat in her crotch and the source of it. But the sleeping pills deadened her reactions – it was so pleasurable to just lie there. She mumbled again, but now she set her senses adrift and when she finally formed words, she repeated, 'Yes, ... oh ...., yes, ..... oohh! ..., just like that, ...., omigod!!'
This was all the encouragement Martin needed. He nuzzled into her crotch now, reaching as deeply into her swollen cunt as he could with his tongue. He was not rough, but he was insistent. His cock was fully erect now, a bigger erection than he had ever managed with Isabelle. Carmen excited him as no other woman could. His beautiful mother was moaning and crying out in passion and it was because of him! He felt her scissor her legs around his head and now her hands held his head resolutely.
Even with her thighs squashing his ears, he dimly heard her mewing:
'Ooohh! ... Oooohhh!! .... OOOOHHH!!! .... OMIGOD!! ... Ooohh!!'
Martin knew her passion intimately from all his years of voyeurism. He had watched Jack fuck her and watched her masturbate – he knew that she was very close to orgasm. He redoubled his efforts, sucking on her clit and spearing his tongue into her sensitive cunt. He was rewarded moments later when her mewing crescendoed. Her thighs began to tighten spasmodically and her hips began to rotate. She pulled his face even tighter into her crotch and her musky and sweet cum permeated his mouth and nose. He almost came himself, but just managed to hold off, thinking longingly of what was to come.
Carmen felt her pleasure with her release. But she was used to explosive orgasms with Jack and compared to those, it was a gentle climax. Martin now eagerly kissed her belly and then clambered up the bed, rolling her over onto her back as he did so. Lying on her abused ass brought on sharp stabs of pain and she cried out, 'Oh GOD!! That hurts!'
Martin was instantly contrite and looked so miserable that Carmen stroked his face and said, 'It's not your fault, honey. Mama will take care of you now.'
Carmen had unconsciously stoked Martin's passion for so many years that it seemed natural that she should take him in her arms and let him lick her breasts and suckle on her nipples. She rolled him over and straddled him. She gently fellated his engorged cock and brought it to her wet cunt. Slowly, slowly, she impaled herself on him. His dick was so much smaller than Jack's that she engulfed him quickly and easily. She did not feel fully penetrated and she had to squeeze her cunt muscles hard to make a tight seal around his manhood. Martin was in heaven. He gently massaged her bruised nipples as she rode him. She swiveled and rotated her hips to increase contact with her clitoris.
'Dear Martin,' she whispered. 'Such a good little boy. Mama loves you, darling.'
'Oh mother, oh mother! Oh, OH, OHHH!!' Try as he might, Martin could not hold himself back. Just the thought that he was fucking Carmen, the mother he worshipped, after so many years of watching made his passion effervescent. He came with a strangled cry in one explosive surge, and convulsed briefly. Carmen still straddled him, but he quickly began to soften inside her.
'I'm sorry, mother, I came too soon, ...' he began to apologize.
'Hush, hush, baby,' Carmen cooed. 'It's OK. Mama loves you.'
* * * * * * * * * *
2. It was past eight when Jack awoke, yawned and stretched. They had to be at the church by ten! He quickly went through the motions of shaving and showering, and put on the morning coat and trousers that were already laid out. He was ride with Isabelle to the church along with her mother, Louise. He made his way over to the guest wing and knocked on Isabelle's door. 'Entre!' he heard her call out and entered.
Isabelle was vision. Daphne Yoo hovered over her, her mouth full of pins, making last minute adjustments. The bridal gown was a silk creation of ivory white that left her creamy shoulders and back bare. It had a tight bodice with minimal support for Isabelle's full, firm breasts. There was a small bow between the bodice bra cups. The rear let out into a five foot ruffled train, but the front was smooth and managed to perfectly cling to her firm thighs and long legs. She wore elbow length white lace finger-less gloves and a narrow white choker on which hung a small diamond studded cross. Her blonde tresses were piled up on top of her head and a discreet tiara supported a gauzy veil. Daphne Yoo had just adjusted the veil around her face. The white diaphanous cloud of muslin enhanced rather than detracted from her fine features.
'Beautiful!' Daphne Yoo said, stepping back and surveying her work. 'You look absolutely stunning, my dear.'
