This is my first submission and is quite a bit longer than originally planned. The story concerns itself with mother/son incest, so if that isn't your cup of tea, you should pass on this one. I welcome any constructive comments.
Chapter 1 β returning home
Returning home was bittersweet. He had been away at the university for the past two years and had only made it home for Christmas once. The remainder of the time he had stayed on campus to train or to study. Michael Cross was attending school on a swimming scholarship, but over the past two years the competition had become so fierce that he found himself having to train harder and harder to compete. In spite of what his coach called a great work ethic, his times were not improving and the head coach had indicated that perhaps he might want to consider swimming for a division II school next year. That was his not so subtle way of saying that Michael's swimming career at the division I level and any dreams of Olympic glory was over. So with a sense of resignation, he had pointed his 1997 Chevrolet pickup truck toward south Florida and was about to spend a summer there without training and traveling to swim meets for the first time in years.
For some reason, he was not devastated by the news. He had left it all in the pool, knew he had done his best, and although the knowledge that he had failed still hurt, he accepted his fate and immediately began to put a positive spin on the situation. But, it would be a big change because for all of his teenage life, and even before that, his only focus was competitive swimming.
After his father's death in a single engine plane accident ten years ago this past summer, his mother had taken on the role of both parents and had seen to it that he was able to continue pursuing his dream. Since both his mother and father had been competitive swimmers until their late teens, it was logical for her to continue his training. But as any athlete knows, there comes a time when it is over, and as compared to many sports, the shelf life of a swimmer can be very short.
He was ready to turn the page and as his old pickup smoothly rolled down Interstate 95 toward his home in Ft. Pierce, Florida, the late evening sparse traffic coupled with the seemingly never-ending straight stretch of road gave his mind a chance to wander to thoughts of the future. First on his agenda was to simply take two weeks off and lounge around the house doing as little as possible.
He had spoken to mom on the phone and she knew all about the situation, and it was her suggestion that he just loaf for a couple of weeks and clear his mind before deciding what direction to take next. Her voice on the phone had sounded neither disappointed, nor upset. He even thought he detected a hint of relief in her voice.
Mom and he had always had a great relationship. She became pregnant with him when she was 18, and she had told him on more than one occasion that upon discovering she was pregnant, swimming was quickly relegated to an afterthought. As it related to swimming, she was more supportive one with him providing the competitive fire, and she had never been one of those parents that pushed to a destructive point.
As his thoughts went to mom and their relationship, he choked up a little thinking about what she had sacrificed. He pictured her in his mind's eye: taller than the average woman at 5'9", lankier than in the pictures of her when she swam competitively, short blond hair groomed in the style many women preferred these days, brilliant blue eyes, small, firm breasts that matched her athletic frame, and a facial resemblance to Sharon Stone, except for her lips, which were much fuller. Growing up, all of his friends seemed to be captivated by her beauty, but to him, she was just his mom. He pictured her now, and strangely, that picture was of her was in the pale blue bikini she sometimes wore that made her eyes jump out at you.
Almost imperceptibly at first and then unmistakably, He felt his cock begin to grow. He felt his face blushing because he was thinking about his mom in her bikini and not some coed at school, but that was only momentary as his hard cock quickly dominated his thoughts. He visualized mom on a horizontal deck chair lying on her stomach with her long smooth legs slightly splayed. He imagined himself at the edge of the pool looking directly between her legs at the strip of blue bikini making little ripples as it molded itself to her pussy. She had always had an incomparable ass, and he could see her bikini rising a quarter of the way up her perfectly rounded globes clearly exposing the soft indentation where her long legs ended and her gorgeous ass began. He felt his cock throb with excitement as he imagined slipping silently out of the pool and dropping slowly to his knees and then burying his nose between her legs before planting a big kiss directly on her pussy.
He shifted in his seat to accommodate his throbbing erection while moving his right hand to the crotch of his blue jeans. He rubbed his cock through his jeans, moaning involuntarily. He quickly realized that he was going to get some relief soon and it was only a matter of whether it would happen with his cock in or out of his pants. Since he was less than an hour from home he made a quick decision that it might not be too cool showing up at the house with a big, wet cum stain on the front of his jeans, so he unbuckled and unzipped his pants. His jeans were still a little tight because of the extra material his gigantic hard on was occupying, so he lifted up and with a little effort managed to move his pants about halfway down his butt as his cock sprang angrily though the hole in his boxers. Even though he was not touching himself, his cock was pulsing and throbbing like crazy and he could feel the cum in his tight ball sac rising like a barely contained oil gusher.
He absently searched the cab of the truck with his right hand for a tissue or a t-shirt, anything to catch the impending explosion of cum. Wedged between the seat and the backrest he found a small convenience pack of Kleenex with two small tissues. Lifting his knee to rest against the bottom of the steering wheel he covered the fat head of his cock with the tissues in his left hand while he slowly pumped the shaft of his 8 Β½ inch cock with his right.
He knew the small amount of tissue would be strained to the limit to contain what had built up in his balls, so he didn't want to jerk off like a wild man. After his hand had made less than a half dozen trips from his cock head to his balls he felt a tremendous load of cum rush to the top of his dick. He couldn't help but spasm forward in his seat. After the first two blasts, cum was already seeping out of the entirely inadequate tissues back down on to the thumb and forefinger of his right and in between the fingers of his left. Hot cum kept blasting from the top of his dick running down the shaft. He tried to fold the tissue over to make more usable area, but it was no use β it was completely saturated with cum. The only finger not coated with cum on his left hand was his pinkie, which he used to lower the power window so he could throw the tissue out. He put his left wrist on the top of the steering wheel and surveyed the mess on his right hand and prick.
Now what, he thought. As though it had a mind of its own, his right hand went to his mouth and he tentatively tasted his slippery spunk for the first time.
"Hmmm, not bad", he said quietly to himself. It smells a little of bleach, but it has only a hint of bitterness. There was something about eating his own cum that gave him a rush. Unhesitatingly, he began to suck each of his fingers clean. When he had that job completed, he circled his hand around the base of his cock and pulled it up until it tightened and came together as it reached the slit at the top of his rod. He had accumulated a fair amount of cum, and spellbound he brought that up to his mouth as well. After getting his fingers wet, they made several trips back to his cock until he was satisfied that it was as clean as his fingers could make it.
He slipped his softening cock back in his boxers and immediately proceeded to slurp the spunk off his left hand until all that was left was the slight odor of cum. After a deep breath, he worked his pants back up and although it was an effort was able to zip and button them up.
Chapter 2 β the reunion