A lot of you have been waiting anxiously for this installment. Merry Christmas to you all - consider this your Christmas present! I hope it lives up to expectations. As always, please offer up your thoughts, comments and criticisms - it is what helps to inspire me.
Enjoy...
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"Hey, Hamilton! Tony and me are catching a beer -- why don't you come along?"
I was unlocking my truck in the company parking lot, heading home after a day's work. I turned at the invitation and shook my head as I replied to one of my co-workers, Willis, "Naw, man -- heading home. My lady's waiting for me." Willis and Tony worked in cubicles near my own -- like me, they were fresh out of college, but unlike me, they were still looking for Miss Right or even better as far as they were concerned, Miss Right Now.
Tony rolled his eyes and said, "C'mon, John! Man, you're not even married yet and you're pussy whipped!"
I just grinned and shook my head again. "With what's waiting for me at home, if that's pussy whipped, then Lord, beat me all you can!"
Both guys guffawed and while Willis climbed into his beater of a car, Tony got a far away look on his face and I knew he was calling up the picture of my Mom that sat on my work desk. It wasn't anything scandalous -- just a picture of Mom sitting on a rock, the hills above our home in the background -- she was wearing a short summer dress that showed off the heft and beauty of Mom's heavy breasts and her shapely legs. "Yeah, man -- I can dig that, I reckon." He grinned at me and waved goodbye. "John, you and your lady have a great weekend!"
Of that there was no doubt. As I drove home, I thought that truthfully, life couldn't get much better. It was now October and we'd been living on Mama Polly's old property for the better part of five months now. My first real job was going well -- my supervisor was pleased with the quality of my technical writing and although it was a little more than an hour's commute each way, I generally left the house each morning with a smile and the memory of Mom on her knees sucking my cock before I was allowed out the door and I drove home each night keenly anticipating taking my mother in my arms again.
Each day seemed to bring new discoveries as I realized how incredibly deep a relationship can become when you are sharing your life so intimately with another. It wasn't just the sex, although that became more intense as time passed, but also the simple things that make up everyday life. Holding hands as we strolled along the street, catching our reflections in a storefront window, marveling at seeing ourselves, hand in hand or arms around each other's waists -- just another couple in love out window shopping.
Reveling in the knowledge that this was my mother and soon to be my wife and that now, here in this time and place, I could kiss her like a man kisses his woman in public and that others saw us as only a couple -- as "John and Carrie" whether or not they knew our incestuous secret. Simple things like sitting at Mama Polly's kitchen table having supper and looking at my beautiful mother and knowing that we would be sharing thousands of suppers like this in the decades to come, filled me with wonder.
And of course, there was the sex. Everyone can debate whether the ever increasing pleasure of our lovemaking is because of us being mother and son -- or simply the end result of the joining of true soul mates. It is both and neither and it is something more, this thing that Mom and I share, and although I have tried so many times to put what we are on paper -- I, at best, can only create a pale echo of the love my mother and I have. Nevertheless, as Mom and I lie gasping in bed, naked and sweaty as we bask in the afterglow of our incestuous orgasms, we both agree that it just gets better and better each time we are joined -- cock and pussy.
Now we were preparing to marry -- to be joined as husband and wife under the eyes and blessing of God -- a joyous event that we had both been anticipating for a long time. A long time ago, atop a tall building in Chicago on New Year's Eve, I had promised Mom I would stand with her in front of a minister and before God and claim her as my wife and now that time was upon us.
As to who would perform the ceremony -- well, Mom and I agreed that there was only one possibility...Reverend Simmons, the now retired preacher from Mom's childhood church -- the church we were now attending. As I tooled down Interstate 75, I felt my cock stirring as I recalled the day we had finally asked Reverend Simmons to officiate at our nuptials.
It had been back in August, a few weeks after returning from Molly and Deb's wedding that we had invited Reverend Simmons and his daughter Melinda over for Sunday supper. Mom fixed a sumptuous pot roast and mountains of mashed potatoes and peach cobbler for dessert and I was amused to see that wiry little old man put away two heaping helpings of everything.
We all had a good time -- the reverend was a great story teller, never really crossing bawdy, but titillating us with his recollections and making us laugh till we were almost crying. The whole time he was talking, his eyes behind his thick lenses were roving over Mom's delicious body while his hands always seemed to wandering about Melinda's petite frame.
I didn't blame him, Mom was wearing a halter top that left little to the imagination, tit flesh overflowing the top and sides and which the seams appeared to be on the verge of unleashing Mom's massive breasts. She also had on blue jean cutoffs, her ass cheeks jiggling enticingly as she moved around the kitchen and dining area bringing food to the table or bending over to check the cobbler in the oven.
And I confess to roaming an appreciative eye over his Melinda who, despite being at least fifteen years older than Mom, was a very attractive and sexy woman in her own right -- wearing a light blue spaghetti strap summer dress that drew attention to her bare shoulders and slim figure.
We had finished dinner and were in the living room enjoying Reverend Simmons's stories -- him finishing up one about Mom's daddy, Tom and how as a teenaged boy, he had dropped a skink (a salamander-like critter) down the front of the Reverend's mother's dress at a church picnic. "And Momma let out a yell to curl your hair and she was out of her dress in a flash and running across the field, her big ol boobs flopping this way and that and turns out she wasn't wearing knickers that day."
