Page 09
"Not you. Just your father." Mom cracked the egss and they began to sizzle in the frying pan.
"But, where are you going?"
"You'll see. I want you to take me there." Mom walked over to the toaster and pushed the bread down.
"There?" I asked, not quite following.
"The commune."
"The commune?"
"Yes. It's only about a day's drive away. I've already put my things in your jeep. I'm leaving my car here. I don't want it."
"Mom. Are you sure?"
"Yes. My mind's made up. Pour yourself some juice." The toast popped up and Mom buttered it, then swung over to the stove and dropped two eggs on top. She placed the plate in front of me. "Pour your juice," she reminded me. I was still taken aback, trying to put it all together in my head. "Nevermind," Mom said, "I'll do it." She got a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with the juice I'd taken out of the fridge.
"Mom this is crazy. Why don't you think about it for a couple of days."
"I'm not doing that anymore. It's not right for me, it never was. I'm leaving whether you take me or not."
"I'll take you. Of course, I'll take you." I was feeling more rattled all the time.
"Thank you. Now calm down and eat your breakfast. You'll give yourself an upset stomach. Everything will be fine."
Mom sat down and began sipping her coffee again, watching me and smiling reassuredly. When I was finished, she told me to pack an overnight bag while she washed up the breakfast dishes. When we got into the jeep I found my backpack in the back with a couple of Mom's suitcases.
"I thought you might want to stay a little longer," Mom explained. "Surfing must have worn you out. You were dead to the world this morning when I packed it up."
It was a long day's drive. We finally arrived about nine that night. The 'commune' was a large, prosperous farm with several houses and outbuildings, all white and impeccably maintained. We were welcomed into one of the larger houses. It seems we were already expected. Jena and Jenny and a host of others came outside onto the large porch and then down to the driveway when our lights approached the house. People milled about us, well, Mom really, hugging and kissing. Eventually we made our way into the house.
I couldn't stop looking at one of the older men who stood near Jena a lot. He looked very familar, kind of like Jenny.
Mom noticed me watching him and leaned close. "Donny, your father," she whispered.
Mom and I were put up in one of the empty bedrooms in the big house. Mom offered no further explanations about Donny and I didn't ask. He was a nice guy and seemed pleased to see me though he didn't give any hint that he knew of a special connection with me. Jenny was very pleased to see me. I stayed.
By the end of the week, Jenny and I were known to be an item and seemed to be a point of discussion. Mom talked to Dad, briefly informing him that she had left him, followed up by assurances that he could do whatever he wanted with the house and all that; she wasn't interested, she said. Mom handed me the phone and I told Dad I didn't know when I'd be back. He told me if I wasn't there in a week, not to come back. I hung up.
I moved in with Jenny that night. Mom stayed in the room we had been provided the first night but after a month she was in the habit of visiting Donny and Jena's room a couple of nights a week. When it became known that I was a writer and was skilled with the internet, I was put in charge of producing the farm's (they didn't call it a commune) newsletter which was shared with a number of similar organizations around the country. I created a facebook page for all the farms to join and soon the communication between them increased a hundredfold. Everyone was thrilled.
The only sad part of my new life was the end of my sex life with Mom. Mom, Jena and Donny clearly had a special connection which was quite apparent to all, not just the half dozen or so old timers that had been there just as long. Jenny and I shared the same thing. Nobody, Jenny assured me, had any idea that we were half brother and sister and cautioned me not to let on. It seems I had replaced one incestuous relationship with another, more distant one. C'est la vie.
One day, Jenny told me that they were all going to a big get-together involving several farms. Mom wasn't going, she explained because, as Jena had told her, she wasn't ready yet to be re-introduced to the general community which contained many more old friends. Jenny was keen to introduce me but I declined, saying I wanted to stay behind with Mom and that anyway, being introduced was an experience I wanted to share with Mom. Jenny understood.
Mom and I had the big house, and most of the farm, actually, to ourselves for three days. We took the time to explore the place, walking mostly but also riding horses and driving around on the backroads that permeated the farther reaches of the farm.
On the the second night alone we were sitting on the two, large couches in the living room of the big house, just the two of us. The conversation turned to Mom's current situation.
Out of the blue, Mom mentioned Donny and remarked, "He's not nearly as exciting as he used to be. In fact, in many ways, he reminds me of Gordon."
"Mom. You've got to be kidding. Donny," or Don as everyone but Mom and Jena called him, "may be older but he's no Gordon."
It felt funny referring to Dad by his first name but the past few weeks here I had become comfortable with the fact that Don was my true flesh and blood.
"I know what you're saying, son, but you'd be surprised. In many ways, he is like Gordon. Maybe you guys," Mom laughed, "all get the same way when you get older."
"Like what, for instance?" I pressed.
"Like getting grumpy."
"Don's not grumpy," I countered.
"Well, he's not exactly the laid back, fun, how do you say it, 'dude' I once knew."
"Well, ok. But that doesn't make him like Dad."
"Maybe so, but I know one way he's exactly like Dad, and, looking back, he always was."
"Yeah. How?" I had no idea why I felt so strongly about defending Donny. Maybe it was because he was my father.
Mom was sitting on the big overstuffed couch, facing me, her back buried into the corner. I was sitting in the same position at the far end of another couch at right angles to hers. She smiled. A very amused, very pleased with herself, smile. She scooted her hips forward as if to lie down but then turned over onto her stomach. Laying her head down on the cushion, her face broke out into a big smile. Her hands reached down to her sides and she started pulling her dress up, using her fingers to scrunch it up in a ball. My eyes locked onto her hands. Little by little, inch by inch, Mom drew the dress up until it was stretched tightly across the back of her thighs at the base of her buttocks. With a quick flip, she pulled the hem over her bottom and above her hips, revealing a bare, pantiless ass.
"He's afraid to try anything new," Mom's husky voice floated across the room, washing over my face, as her hands slid up onto her cheeks and pulled them apart. "Are you afraid?"
She held them there, smiling. Understanding was slow to seep into my brain but eventually the invitation began to seem real and I stood. It felt like I was moving in slow motion through a thick, clear fluid. I wanted to move faster, but I couldn't.
I was surprised to see my t-shirt fly off to my right. I wasn't even aware I'd taken it off. I stumbled forward in slow motion but managed to catch myself, pulling my right foot out of my jeans. Mom's smile was huge now. She was laughing out loud, I could hear the sound but barely recognized it because it was so slow. I stumbled to a stop, dragged my left foot out of my other pantleg, then pushed my shorts down, painfully catching them on the huge boner that had instantly sprung from my groin. I must have set a world erection record.
I fell on the couch, knees straddling Mom's thighs, looking down at Mom's bare ass and the partly open pussy slit between her legs. My eyes moved up to the dark little hole above, barely open, and then only because Mom continued to hold her cheeks apart. I knew what she meant by 'new'. No wonder my cock was harder than it had ever been before.
I leaned forward, dipping my cock head toward that unknown heaven but Mom's voice stopped me, suddenly ringing true in real time.
"Make it wet first," she cautioned.
I paused, as if unsure about how to proceed.
"Spit on it, like you did before, you little brat," Mom laughed throatily. "But if you want to do both, do the regular one first. No going back and forth."
Mom lifted her hips and I pushed my cock between her tight thighs, into her slit, shoving inside. She was surprisingly wet though she hadn't looked horny. She must have been thinking about this for awhile, and it had gotten to her. She moaned as soon as I began prying my way through her tunnel. She definitely wanted it and I was thrilled to know she had missed me.
As if reading my mind, Mom husked, "Ohhhhh, baby, I missed you so much."
I started pumping Mom, slowly because I wanted to last. At least that was my intention but within a few minutes I was pulling her hair, gently tugging her head up, and that just made my hips take on a life of their own. Soon, I was rattling her behind the way I had on our living room floor while Dad was upstairs, working. I laughed out loud. What did he know about life. Sitting at a desk upstairs working, on his own time, while I fucked his woman downstairs.
I really began pummeling Mom now. I let her head fall forward and she bent her arms so she could use her hands to brace against my onslaught while I wrapped mine around her slender waist, holding her bottom in place under my assault. We were both moaning and grunting but I could still hear the sound of my cock moving rapidly in and out of her cunt. I used one hand to grasp her shouler and increased my frenetic pace.
"Ahhhhhhh, godddd, yeahhhhh," I cried, unloosing weeks of pent-up mother cum. There was nothing like this, not even my half-sister could make me feel like this, and still the best was yet to come.
As soon as Mom stopped reacting to my convulsions, before I completely recaptured my breath, I slid my hands down to her ass and spread her cheeks. I leaned close and spit on her little bud, then spread it around with my thumb. Several more times I spit, rubbing it slowly around, before I ventured to poke my longest finger into that sweet asterisk. Just the fingertip but Mom's moan of pleasure would have made you think I had shoved my whole cock in. She was filled to the brim with anticipation.
I spit on her hole and worked my fingertip in and out, only pushing further when it became easy. I was surprised when I pushed my long finger inside and seemed to burst through an inner doorway. In very short order I was moving my finger easily in and out, trading off to insert my thumb, which I pushed in firmly, trying to widen her hole with the thicker part near the join to my hand.
"Enough," Mom cried.
I stopped immediately, disappointed. I was just getting geared up for this new experience. I pulled my finger out.
"I need something bigge. I need you now," Mom hissed, lifting her ass up, moving it in a tiny circle.
My cock recognized the invitation and moved, seemingly of its own accord, unerringly toward that beckoning cave. I inserted my tip and Mom instantly groaned with pleasure.
"Yes, oh, yesss," she hissed.
I pushed gently forward, widening that tight orifice. It was very tight and strenuously resisted my cock but I kept a firm, steady pressure until it suddenly yielded, leaving the field in full retreat.
"Ohhhhhhh, godddd, owwww, ohhhhh, godddd," Mom yowled.
"Are you alright?" I cried, leaning over, watching her face intensely, trying to make sense of her tightly screwed up face.
"Don't stop," Mom cried. "Keep moving!"
I kept pressing my cock in and Mom continued her confusing moans. I kept shoving until the soft skin of Mom's ass was pressing against the inner skin of my thighs beside my balls. My cock was fully plugged into Mom's ass.
"That's it, baby. Fuck me there. Fuck my ass."
I started moving.
"Slowly," Mom cried. "Go slowly."
I moved cautiously out just a little, then pushed back in. Mom moaned, in pleasure, I think. Out and back in. Another moan. More in and outs, more moaning. I struck a rhythm and Mom seemed to enjoy the song I played more and more. This was just like fucking her from behind on the floor, only way better. Soon I was stroking all the way in and out, changing up my speed, even pausing when fully in, then grinding around in a circle. Mom really seemed to like that but when I pulled all the way out, and then waited a few seconds before plunging back in, Mom went wild.
The sounds coming from her throat were truly primeval. Each time I pulled all the way out, she tried to hump up to recapture my cock. Eventually, she was up on her knees and I had to get up on my feet to escape her clutching orifice. But only briefly, for I couldn't stand to be outside either. Squatting over Mom's ass, plunging in and out, I created my own grunting lyrics until I pushed her flat on the couch and shoved in deep for a mutual, quivering orgasm.
****
From then on, Mom and I managed to find ways to be alone. We went riding in the forest or left the farm on various excursions. There was no need to make excuses; everyone undertood that a mother and son liked to be alone from time to time. Nobody discovered the truth.
Mom changed her appearance. She cut her long hair short and wore it in a cute, busy fan that spread out from her head. She looked less like an older hippy throwback and more like a confident woman, fresh and in tune with nature and the people around her. Often, when we were alone, Mom would wait for me in the living room, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the couch, stark naked, her full tits sitting upon her chest, nipples poking proudly up, a languid smile on her face, waiting for me to join her at the start of another trip down our own memory lane. That picture of her, naked, leaning back on her elbows, beckoning me with that secret smile, is emblazoned in my brain.
Not that my sex life with Jenny wasn't rewarding; she just made love differently than Mom. For example, when she sucked me she would only allow me to put head of my cock in her mouth and then only after teasing it mercilessly on the underside with the tip of her tongue. I took retribution by licking around and around her pubes before dipping just the tip of my own tongue in her slit, never plunging in all the way, and teased the shit out of her by flicking her clit as lightly as I could until she came. All in all, life was very full.
Strangely, we received a long letter from Dad. He had moved on with his life, quit his job and met someone new. There was a huge bank draft in the envelope. Dad had sold the house and liquidated most of his assets and split it down the middle, over his lawyer's loud objections. He had bought a sailboat, he explained, and was off on his own adventures. He hoped to see Mom in a year or two, and me of course. He wished us the very best. It was best too, I thought, that he never knew the truth about Mom and I, but in reality, if nothing had happened between us, Dad wouldn't be on a sailboat with his new partner. Such is life.
****
It's been about a year since I committed this story to paper. I thought you might be interested in recent developments at the farm.
Jena was diagnosed with an extremely aggressive form of breast cancer and passed away several months ago. Donny left the house to stay in one of the other homes housing only men. He and Mom didn't gel in Jena's absence and, in truth, they had never fully renewed their ties. Donny couldn't stay in the house because there were too many memories of Jena. Despite his earlier involvement, many years ago, with multiple women, Jena really was his true love and he seemed lost without her. He only lasted six weeks in the other home before he decided he needed to get away from the farm. Coincidentally, his solution was to hop in the farm's sailboat, a 40 foot classic ketch (I hadn't realized there was one) with everyone's blessing. Jenny and I, and Mom, were left in sole possession of the big house. Jenny and I moved into the big bedroom that had formerly been occupied by Donny and Jena.
Jenny became pregnant. There is no doubt whose child it is, she hasn't been with anyone but me since I arrived. Daughters really need their mother, especially when having their first child. Although Mom hadn't been around most of Jenny's life, Jenny had heard about her since she was little and knew there was a special bond between Mom and Jena. In Jena's absence, Mom became Jenny's surrogate mother.
Bjorn (Borg had been an idol Mom and Jena shared) was born a couple of months ago, just before Donny left. Perhaps it was the birth of his first grandson that prompted Donny to renew his search for adventure, his youth, or to realize his bucket list had not been realized. I don't know. Anyway, one evening, I had just put on a huge fire and Mom and I were sitting around on the floor in front of the couch like we had those fateful evenings at home. Jenny came in from feeding the baby and putting him down for the night. Mom moved over and patted the rug between us and Jenny squeezed in, pulling her dress up to enjoy the heat of the fire.
"Whew," she sighed. "What a great fire."
As usual, little Bjorn hadn't been up to the task of emptying Jenny's modest breasts and they were still swollen with milk. Jenny's dress, which she had forgotten to rebutton, was open to her navel. As my eyes traveled over her breasts, I noticed a residue of milk on the breast Bjorn had last suckled and a drop forming on the nipple of the other. I reached over and wiped the residue from the closest breast. Surprised, Jenny started to close her dress.
"Oh, sorry," she cried. "I forgot."
But before she could close the dress Mom's hand cupped the bottom of the other breast and her finger swooped up, capturing the drop of milk, now fully formed and in danger of dripping off Jenny's tit. Mom brought her finger to her mouth and sucked the milk from her fingers.
"Mmmmmm," she crowed, "that kid is a wasteful little monkey."
It was my turn to be surprised. Jenny looked positively shocked.
I pulled Jenny's dress apart and cupped the breast I had just cleaned, catching the droplet that had now formed there. Bringing my finger to my lips, I repeated Mom's appreciation.
"Mmmmmm, my son's meal is my dessert."
Mom laughed out loud and I chuckled at my own joke.
Jenny, however, didn't laugh. Regarding her breast with a strange expression, she scooped up the new droplet forming where Mom had retrieved her treat. Slowly, Jenny turned to Mom and put her milky finger to Mom's lips and, gazing intensely into her eyes, pushed her finger in. Mom's face revolved in a tiny oval as she sucked hard on Jenny's finger, her eyes locked on the younger woman's. Mom's mouth popped when Jenny pulled her finger out, she was sucking it so hard.
I replaced my hand on Jenny's tit, cupping it from below, and waited for another droplet of milk to form. Mom copied my action, cupping the other breast. Jenny looked down at our hands cupping her breasts. She extended her finger onto the nipple of the breast I was holding and bent it over, rushing the formation of the next droplet. Appreciatively, I pulled my finger up and offered it to Jenny, pushing it into her mouth when she parted her lips.
We both turned our eyes to the breast Mom was cupping. She had taken Jenny's nipple between the thumb and forefinger of her other hand and was squeezing it to force a droplet of milk onto the finger held below it. Upon success, Mom raised the finger to Jenny's mouth and pushed it inside. I bent my head, took Jenny's nipple into my mouth, and began to suck. A moment later, I opened my eyes when Mom's hair brushed my head. She was sucking Jenny's other nipple. I felt Jenny's hand cradle my head and saw her other hand doing the same for Mom's.
