Incest/Taboo Sacred Glen

They'd come from the east, from where the sun dwelled, on ships which rode the wind and with wonders unimaginable. The priest, like his people, had been mesmerized, questions forming only after The People began begging for the stranger's drink that made them say and do things sacrilegious, only after the diseases spread, only after the strangers defiled the sacred glen.

The People were dying.

They'd been born when the Spirit of the glen passed through a man, a man both good and evil, into the womb of his daughter, who was pure and full of love. She, The Progenitor, bore the first, then more children came and they, like this verdant land, were prolific and made many children, and The People multiplied and thrived.

He had spent weeks in the temple reading the ancient inscriptions, searching for the words that would awaken the Spirit, entrusting his daughter to his novitiates, heeding them to keep her from the strangers. Now in the glen, her by his side, he said the words, but when the Spirit flowed through him he saw the world as the Spirit saw the world and knew his daughter was no longer innocent, that she and the novitiates had been seduced by the strangers. She had drank their liquors, shared her body.

The priest died that night. His daughter called together the novitiates who, respectful of the old priest, immolated him in accordance with the rituals.

Awakened, its calling unfulfilled, the Spirit waited in the glen. Occasionally people entered, but they, like the priest and his daughter, were both good and evil and did not interest the Spirit.

Then she came.
​

* * * * *​

"Daddy, it's beautiful."

Aaron Voss smiled. While his daughter was a young woman, when excited her voice rose in pitch and bubbled with the enthusiasm of a twelve year old girl. She was standing at the crest of a ridge - she'd rushed up to see what was on the other side - the family trailing behind. Aaron looked to his wife, who slipped her hand from his and said, "Go ahead dear," and he trotted to the top, the pack on his back no impediment for the experienced hiker.

As he did he thought of the resemblance of his wife and daughter. California beach girls, taut fit bodies, long athletic legs. His wife Abigail, called Abbie, had long ago trimmed her reddish-blonde hair to a sensible shoulder length, but Deborah's wavy hair still hung to the middle of her back. Their round faces featured hazel eyes that glittered when excited or happy, which was almost always, long lashes, arched brows, straight noses, wide cheekbones. There were differences, his five foot nine inch daughter had several inches on her mother and had developed the full round bosom Abbie had always said she wanted, but to see them was to know they were mother and daughter.

He reached the crest. His daughter gave him a hug and repeated, "Isn't it beautiful?"

It was Edenic.
​

* * * * *​

Since discovering the Native American sites near her home in Las Cruces as a child, archeology and anthropology had fascinated Deborah. When asked what she wanted for her eighteenth birthday she said for the family to explore a little known site in the Honduran jungle: the remains of two villages of a tribe that had called itself The People and disappeared with the Spanish incursion. The trip would require several days of hiking and camping, but the outdoors had always been part of her family's life. Her parents, inveterate tinkerers, held several patents for camping gear that generated the royalties that allowed them to focus their considerable attention on their children. Home schooled, Ben the eldest, and the two sets of twins Becka and Charity, Christian and David, found college undemanding, with Ben, an aspiring architect, graduating in three years as valedictorian.

In four days of hiking and exploring the family found the two villages and a third, previously unknown, but not the temple assumed to be near-by. Now returning to the river - they'd rendezvous with the boat tomorrow - they'd been looking for a place to camp when Deborah impulsively decided to look on the far side of a near-by ridge. Her instincts, as usual, were impeccable; the small valley was paradisiacal.

No one finding a reason they couldn't - there were no posted limitations and the government issued map contained no restrictions - they erected three tents in the glen, one for Aaron and Abbie, another for the girls, Deborah, Becka, and Charity, and a third for the boys, Ben, Christian, and David, cooked dinner, told stories, thanked Deborah for choosing such a wonderful present they could all enjoy together.

Sleep came quickly; it had been a strenuous four days.

And the Spirit, seeing that the youngest one, the one they called Deborah, was pure and good and full of love, flowed through them.
​

* * * * *​

Aaron was dreaming. The kids were off exploring and he was on his knees behind his wife, holding her slender hips, driving himself into her. She came, came again, then he did, and as his dream body jerked forward so did his sleeping body, waking him.

As his disoriented mind returned to reality his wife whispered, "Hey honey," and he said, "I was having this dream, sorry to wake you."

"You didn't, I've been up. I was dreaming my husband was making love to me," then ran a finger on his erection and said, "The way you were moaning, it seems you were dreaming the same thing."

"Yeah, I was, how weird is that?"

"Not very," she said, working her hand inside his boxers, "We've gone without for four days, what was the last time that happened?"

Slipping a hand under her white tee-shirt to her braless breasts, finding her nipples hard, he said, "Last time we went camping with the kids."

She peeled his boxers down his legs saying, "Four days is way too long. It's two in the morning, if we're quiet we can get away with it."

He pulled her tee-shirt over her head, leaned in, licked her breasts, said, "You sure? I'm not my cleanest, only been bathing in streams."

Twisting her hand on his shaft, pre-cum dripping from him, she said, "You'll owe me a trip to the spa," kissed him, straddled him. With a fingertip he traced a line from her neck between her breasts, over her stomach, stopped at her panties, circled around to her back. She leaned forward and looking in his eyes said, "Falling in love with you was the best thing that ever happened to me."

He said, "You, the kids, I'm the luckiest man in the world," lifted his head, his lips grazing hers, then capturing her lower lip between his, stroking it with his tongue. She lifted a leg and worked her panties off; he caressed the hollow of her thigh, pulled her close, kissed her mouth, neck and collarbone, licked her nipples. She reached for him, placed him on her sex, whispered, "Let me," rolled her hips on him until he was all the way in, withdrew, did it again, kissed him muffling his moans, reached back and massaged his balls.

They made love with oft-practiced skill, pacing their movements, dragging it out, letting it build. When it was time he grabbed her hips and pulled her to him, his shaft and head dragged over her g-spot. She tensed, came, felt him his body tense and jerk as his thick warm seed coursed into her body.

Afterwards, bodies limp, they looked at each other, smiled with joy in their eyes, kissed.

Their children - who'd woken from their own erotic dreams - had listened to them. Each considered masturbating, but they were sharing tents. All returned to their dreams.
​

* * * * *​

Abbie, the first one up, reviewed the map while brewing coffee, then cup in hand leaned against a tree, marveling at the beauty of the place, thinking about how wonderful the sex had been last night.

Looking up into the canopy she saw what appeared to be a giant cocoon, far too large to support its own weight. It was not one cocoon, however, but scores of interconnected cocoons, a mammoth colony with several large colonies hanging from it, supporting each other, giving the totality unworldly strength.

She was making a sketch of it when Aaron, emerging from the tent, said, "God your beautiful."

She kissed him, said, "Good morning my love," and gestured to the tree. "Take a look at that."

He did, saw what she saw, refilled her coffee cup, poured one of his own, looked at her sketch, pointed out a few things she'd missed, then hearing the children turned to the tents and said, "Morning, your Mom fixed coffee."

While friends gave them the credit, Aaron and Abbie simply considered themselves blessed. Six healthy happy optimistic children, each other's best friends, and who'd never given them any real trouble. Ben, like Deborah, took after Abbie, tall, slender, and blonde, while the two sets of twins, the girls Becka and Charity, the boys Christian and David, resembled their father, brown hair, stockier, more heavily muscled.

As the kids emerged Abbie, who always thought her children beautiful, saw a little something extra, sort of a glow. Thinking it meant last night's lovemaking had not disturbed anyone she said, "Everyone sleep well?"

And although their sleep had been interrupted by erotic dreams and their parents, each nodded yes, for despite the four days of hiking each felt a bit more vigor, bit more pep than usual.

Abbie said, "I figure it's two hours to the river. If we give ourselves four we'll need to leave here in three hours."

Deborah said, "While we were working our way down the ridge last night I saw a grove of trees I didn't recognize. I'd like to take a look."

Ben said, "I'll go with you. How about you guys?"

David said, "Christian and I were thinking about exploring the valley floor," then turned to Becka and Charity, "You guys want to come?"

The twin girls looked at each other, said, "Yes."

Ben said to his parents, "How about you?"

At the thought of getting some private time a look passed between Abbie and her husband and she said, "We'll hang here, break everything down, get lunch ready."

Aaron and Abbie didn't know it, but their children knew that look, seen it a thousand times. With so many of their friends' parents ranging from disinterested to disgusted with each other, or single, or part of blended unhappy families, that their Mom and Dad dug each other was just plain cool.
​

* * * * *​

"Do you recognize the trees?"

"No, I'll pack some leaves, bring 'em home, try to figure them out," then pointing to a bush, "I recognize that."

"What is it?'

"A species of blueberry."

"Are they safe?"

Popping one in her mouth she said, "Whoever heard of death by blueberries? Want one?"
​

* * * * *​

The Spirit dwelled in the glen, and everything in the glen, but most strongly in the life of the glen so as Ben and Deborah ate the Spirit's life-force entered them. There would be changes, some soon, some taking longer.
​

* * * * *​

They feasted on the berries, picked enough for the others, and found a spot where the sun poked through the forest's canopy. Ben sat against a tree, his sister leaned her body on him, his arm, draped across her chest, nestled between her breasts. They were quiet, enjoying each other's presence and the wild sensual beauty of the place. Deborah, sun on her face, feeling safe and loved, slipped into a light nap, dreaming that her family was in this beautiful place on a day just like this one, that they were naked, and her father's penis - vibrant and beautiful - was hard. She opened her eyes, shook her head, the silken hair of her ponytail playing on her brother's skin, and said, "How long did I sleep? Is it time to get back?"

Ben said, "I'm not sure, you drifted off so quietly I didn't notice exactly when," lifted his arm to check the time and said, "We could hang a little longer, but they should be done by now. It'd be decent to help them clean up."

Deborah said, "You're sweet to think about them," stood, extended her hand, helped her brother up, and said, "You should have heard them last night trying to be quiet," then seeing the expression on Ben's face added, "You were awake, you heard them, didn't you?"

"Yeah. I'd figured they didn't do it while were camping, but I guess they just wait until the middle of the night and try to sneak it in."

"Yeah, aren't they cute?"

Holding hands they worked their way across the face of the ridge, saw that the tents had been broken down, saw their father and mother, shirts and socks on, otherwise naked. Re-living last night's dream Aaron was on his hands and knees entering Abbie from behind.

Aaron and Abbie had gone at each other the second the children disappeared, packed, checked the time, figured they had time to do it again. Pre-occupied they didn't see their eldest and youngest child stop, gape, then silently move up the ridge and behind a row of bushes where Deborah exhaled, sat on a rock, and said, "That's the first time I've seen two people having sex."

Ben, a bit surprised, said, "You've never watched porn?"

"No. What's it like?"

"Porn or sex?"

"Sex silly."

Ben sat by his sister, slid his arm around her shoulder, said, "Isn't that a question for Mom?"

Deciding to tease her brother she said, "Okay, I'll ask," stood, and saw her parents through the brush. Past her initial shock, with no risk of interrupting them or being discovered, she saw what they were doing was wonderful, full of love and beauty, as if this fecund place was manifesting itself in them. Last night's arousal returned.

Meanwhile Ben, mind turned inward, contemplated his sister's question. He'd had a few one night stands, far fewer than been offered, and been in love, seeing the same woman his first two years in college. His sister was asking about the second kind of sex. Deciding to try and answer her question, he looked up, saw her eyes fixed on something, guessed what it was, and standing, placed a hand on her shoulder and said, "Between people who love and care about each other, like Mom and Dad, there's nothing better. Look at them."

Covering his hand with her own she said, "I know, the love between them is so strong. It flows through the family, through all of us."

She watched and felt no shame at spying or the way her body - her nipples tingled, her vaginal lips swelled - was reacting. There was no reason for shame; her parents were expressing their love, the love they shared with the family. She slipped her arm around her brother's waist, pulled him to her, glanced down, saw the lump in his shorts. Seeing that it was effecting her wiser, more worldly brother the same way it was her, she felt safe to talk about it and said, "Ben last night, when we heard them, I felt comforted, and turned on. It's more intense now. Is that weird?"

Ever protective of his baby sister he wrapped his arms around her, kissed the top of her head, and said, "I felt the same way, feel the same way now. It doesn't feel weird; it's like this place gives us permission."

She turned her face to his; he was beautiful.

"I like it when you hold me."

She felt right in his arms, and suddenly he wanted his sister.

"I like holding you."

As if reading his mind she turned her head to a forty-five degree angle to his, touched his cheek with four trembling fingers, kissed his lips, said, "Show me about sex."

Ben considered asking if she was sure, but she was offering him something precious and intimate, to question it would be to doubt her, reject her, and then she reassured him, "Yes Ben, I'm sure."

He kissed her, then again. Their desire cascaded forward, lips moved on lips, tongue on tongue, they kissed with the passion that permeated this place. She moaned into his mouth, took his hands, placed them on her breasts. He squeezed, they were firm and round and warm, and then she moved his hands down her body, to the hem of her shirt.

While not one to brag or tease, Deborah was proud of her body. Now she was glad she'd never shared it with a man, she loved and trusted her brother; there was no better man, place, time. She lifted her arms; he pulled the shirt over her head; she reached back, undid her bra.

Her breasts, large and without hint of sag, blended with the flawless pink skin of her trim figure. Her areolas, an inch across, were slightly darker in color, her nipples thick and hard, a shade darker still. Returning his eyes to her face Ben said, "Deborah, they're, you're perfect."

Deborah stood on her toes, pecked his lips, pulled the tie from her ponytail, shook her head, loosening her hair, said, "I'd glad you like them, now take your shirt off." When he did she, as if contemplating a work of art, traced the lines of his body, his pecs and abs, with her fingers. His skin quivered and she pushed the hair from her face, looked up, said, "I love your body."

He kissed her, cradled her breasts, squeezed, ran his thumbs in circles on her areolas, across her nipples. She pressed her tongue to his, chased it into his mouth; they played. His hands slid down to her shorts but saying, "No, not yet," she moved into his arms; they kissed, caressed arms, legs, thighs, chests, stomachs, butts. She undid the buckle of her shorts, took his hand in hers, guided it down her body, inside her shorts. Ben worked it under the hem of her panties. Her hips rose to meet him, she tilted her head back, exhaled, moaned.

He was touching his sister's sex, he was touching his beautiful sister's sex. He grazed her clit, traced her soft swollen vaginal lips, moved up, fondled her clit - it was enormous - then down again, spreading her moisture. The heel of his hand on her clit, he massaged her sex in a circular motion. He kissed her mouth, ears, neck.

Holding onto his body Deborah gasped groaned. Her sex was on fire. Back arched, her breathing grew ragged; her hips, moving on his hand, rose and fell. There was a wonderful divine building pressure inside her.

He covered her clit with his thumb, rolled it against her body, caressed her pussy lips with his fingers. She dug her short hard nails into his shoulders, clutched the nape of his neck, crushed her breasts to his chest; her burning cunt burned was the center of the universe. Hips quaking she moaned, said his name, jerked, her pussy exploded; there were fireworks in her head and a landslide in her sex and she sang her joy as an orgasm - a long reverberating freight train that shook her world - rumbled through her. He pulled his hand from her shorts to hold her shaking gasping body to his.

Juice dripped down her leg, fell to the ground, watered the soil, joined her to this place.

Deborah, catching her breath, looked up, eyes glazed, said, "I love you Ben," kissed him, kissed him again, traipsed her fingers across the hard flesh of his stomach, undid his belt. Moving her fingers through his thick pubic hair she said, "I've never touched one," kissed his mouth, their tongues massaged and slid on each other; her fingers glided across the cock-head on a drop of pre-cum, then slid down him. Encircling her fingers on the shaft, she ended the kiss and said, "I don't see how something this big fits inside a woman. May I see it?"

Nodding yes, he pried the shoes from his feet, stepped out of his shorts, sat on the rock. His sister, eyes on his groin, joined him, said, "May I touch it?"

"Of course. Be firm, it won't break."

Despite his assurance she placed a fingertip on the shaft, lightly moved it down, said, "It's hard, and so soft," stopped at his balls.

"You can play with them too."

Cupping his scrotum she looked at him, saw pleasure on his face, squeezed, squeezed again.

"They're hot and swollen."

"They get that way when a man's excited."

Smiling, she wrapped her hand on his shaft - her fingers barely touched each other - and as more and more blood flowed into it, felt it pulse in her hand.

"It's different then I thought it would be."

"What do you mean?"

"It's so vital, full of life."

She twisted her hand, several drops leaked out.

"I felt those earlier, what are they?"

"Pre-cum, they happen when a man's excited, before his semen comes."

"Can I taste?"

"Sure."

She ran her thumb on the head, brought it to her mouth.

"It's good."

"It's better if you lick it off."

Smiling she said, "I'm not that naive. Are you asking your sister for a blow job?"

"Well, not yet, but it helps get me wet, it's lubrication."

She said, "Okay," swished saliva in her mouth, leaned forward, let a thick glob of spittle ooze onto him. It flowed down the shaft and she said, "Like that."

"Yeah."

Saying, "Look, more pre-cum is coming out," she ran her pinkie on the crown, then inserted the tip in his urethra, slid it in and out, pleased by his happy groan and steady stream of pre-cum. It was slicker than her saliva and she spread it on the shaft, noting that the underside, close to the head, gave birth to his most ecstatic moan.

She twisted her hand up and down, driving his foreskin over the head.

His moans sharpened.

Curious, she opened her mouth and, to her brother's surprise, swallowed the crown, closed her lips on it. It was alive - warm and hard but soft - and lips pressed together she slid her head back, stopping as he spurted pre-cum into her mouth. Firm grip on the shaft, she swirled her tongue on the head, stiffened her tongue, dragged it on the underside. Her brother jerked his hips forward and the crown slid on the roof of her mouth. She let him escape and said, "How did I do?"

"Wonderful."

Leaning back, twisting her hand on him, she said, "Is it always like this, shaft bright red, head purple."

He said, "No, it's usually the same color as the rest of my skin. It changes when I'm excited," and kissed her again. Their tongues took turns visiting each other's mouth as she swivelled her palm on the head, her fingers sliding on his shaft; her brother's sweet moans floating away on the breeze.

Her hands locked on him, she worked the underside of the shaft just below the head with the flat of her thumb. He got harder and warmer and bigger and she thought about his fat testicles brimming with semen and said, "Ben, may I touch your scrotum?"

"Yeah, it makes a guy feel great."

She palmed his ball-sac, caressed it with a circular motion. His gonads were huge; someday her brother would make many babies. She was also began to understand how it could fit inside her, for her spasming sex was wet and swollen and wanted a dick. Lowering her head she sucked one of his balls into her mouth, licked it, did the same to the other, pushed it out through tight soft lips.

She returned her hands - strong, soft, and determined - to his shaft, worked him in earnest. Her brother moaned and his skin glowed and she said, "Come for me, come for you sister," and his balls tightened and he said, "Ohgodyes," and he exploded, spraying sperm into the air. It was on her hand and dripped down his dick and she'd never seen anything so beautiful and brought it to her mouth and it was delicious.

Some dripped from her hand to the ground, disappeared into the soil, tying him to this place.

They dressed, and on the way back to the camp Deborah told her brother that someday she wanted him to enter her, come inside her, but not yet, for she wanted Daddy to be the first.
​

* * * * *​

As Deborah and Ben were exploring the grove of trees the twins worked down towards the valley's floor. It was Becka, eyes drawn by butterflies hovering over a dense patch of wild flowers, who saw it first, a bubbling froth of water with no apparent source.

She called to the others, "I found something, I think it's a spring."

They found her kneeling beside it, holding water in cupped hands. Saying, "I've never seen anything so clear, so clean," she splashed the water on her face, said, "It feels great on your skin."

The others did the same, then Charity said, "Do you think it's safe to drink?"

Christian said, "There's no way to be sure, but I don't see why not."

Becka said, "One way to find out," and brought her cupped hands to her lips. "It's delicious."

They dumped their canteens a respectful distance from the spring, not wanting to disturb it's purity, filled them with the water, drank themselves full.

As with the blueberries, the Spirit dwelled in the glen, and everything in the glen, but most intensely in the life and the things that brought life. The water and the tiny life forms that lived in it entered their bodies, integrating them with the land. There would be changes, some soon, some taking longer.
​

* * * * *​

Noting that the water drained through the bed of flowers they tracked it to a clearing with a small pond, no more than 50 feet across.

Christian said, "Does it all come from the spring?"

Scanning the surrounding hills Becka said, "I don't see any permanent tributaries, but it's bound to get run off from the rain and despite the last couple of days" - the sky had been blue and temperature moderate - "it rains a lot around here."

Shedding their small packs, they lay down. The ground was comfortable, rich soil carpeted by thick soft grass, and Becka and Charity rested their heads on their brothers' stomach, took their brothers' hand in their own. The siblings were soon stroking and caressing each others' fingers and hands and arms in a manner intimate and sensual.

It was Becka, recalling how the water felt on her skin, who said, "I'm going for a swim, who wants to join me?"

David, eager but practical, said, "Sounds great, but we have to hike out of here in these clothes. We'll be uncomfortable if they're wet."

Becka peeling off her shirt said, "Then we'll skinny dip."

None argued. In this fecund place, free from humanity, what could be more natural than being naked.

They stripped and frolicked and touched, at first in ways innocent, soon in ways they never had before. Mouths came together, initially teasingly, but soon in long intimate kisses. Playful touches became sensual strokes; breasts and vaginas, swollen and warm, and penises, hard and throbbing, were comforted by hands and fingers. They returned to the soft grass and the Spirit burning bright Becka took Christian in her mouth and Charity took David in hers, drank their brothers' cum, and then the brothers settled between their sister's legs, feasting on them until the two of them, singing songs of joy, flooded their brothers' mouths.

The boy's semen and Becka and Charity's juice dripped from their bodies to the soil, binding them to the land

On the way back to the camp they refilled their canteens to share with the family.
​

* * * * *​

Fueled by the blueberries and water - the lunch Abbie and Aaron had prepared was packed away and forgotten - the family made rapid progress on the hike back, each noting that the colors of the jungle seemed more vivid, the smells more lush, the birds' songs brighter.

That night, at the resort, after showers, after dinner, Deborah joined Ben in the boys' room. He lit a candle, they explored with lips and tongues and fingers and Deborah took her brother in her mouth and swallowed his semen and squealed her delight then Ben, returning the favor, head between her legs, ate her til she came.

The twins, in the girls' room, consummated what had begun earlier that day: Christian entered Charity, David entered Becka. They climaxed, switched partners, did it again, drifted to sleep. They dreamed of the family naked in the glen, Becka of making love with her father, Charity of doing the same, and both dreamed his baby was growing inside her. Christian and David dreamed of their mother's body thick with child.

In their room Aaron and Abbie, sweaty from sex, lay together. In the glen, on the hike back, at dinner, each had sensed a sensuality to their children they'd not before noticed, as if the kids had absorbed the jungle's beauty, or had the jungle simply allowed them to see a carnality in their children they, until them, had ignored?

Then, her mind in the glen, Abbie thought of she cocoons and in that moment saw it in her mind's eyes. Aaron, noting his wife's sudden focus, said, "What is it dear?"

"Remember the cocoons, the way they hung together, supported each other. You could design a hammock the same way, use it to sleep in most any tree and hang your gear from."

She got her drawing of the cocoon from her pack. The two of them sketched out ideas.
​

* * * * *​

The family was different on its return to Las Cruces, but not so different an outsider would notice. They'd always been physical, hugs and touches the norm, so if they hugged more, touched more, sisters leaning on brothers, brothers' arms wrapped around sisters, it went unremarked. They'd always been active and healthy and so if they ran faster, muscled-up faster, it was deemed the happy result of clean living. They'd always been close so no one thought it odd when the twins decided to get a place together in Santa Fe where they attended St. John's and Deborah decided to attend the University of Texas where Aaron had been accepted by its graduate school of architecture, and double major in archeology and anthropology.

Similarly, Aaron and Abbie had always been avid lovers, teased by friends that after twenty-plus years of marriage they acted like newlyweds, so thought their hyped sexual appetites more of the same. They tried to be discreet, waiting until the kids left, but if they'd come down from the bedroom in the middle of the day, faces flushed, bodies warm, to find their children had come home, they'd be greeted with approving smiles.

One last thing: Abbie, Becka, Charity, and Deborah dreamed of being pregnant. For Abbie the dream was painful.
​

* * * * *​

The design for the hammock came to Abbie and Aaron quickly and they were soon fabricating prototypes, discovering that while two people couldn't sleep in one, its stability, strength, and elasticity practically made it a sex-toy, and would test each successive design by hanging it in the backyard and fucking like bunnies. When they emerged from the basement with the latest, and what they believed the hammock's final iteration, the twins - Deborah and Ben were in Austin looking for a place to live - joined them in the backyard, climbed in and out, then said they were going to a friend's house, circled the block, and snuck back inside to make love while watching their parents do the same.

Afterwards, cuddled together, Aaron stroked Abbie's hair and said, "With Deborah going to college you and I can do this whenever ...," then, seeing the wistful look on her face, stopped. He'd seen it a lot lately. It was time to talk.

Covering her belly with his hand he said, "Thinking about more children?"

"Yeah, not that I ever forget, but it's been on my mind a lot recently. I'm not sure why."
​

* * * * *​

"Complications" was the word they used, there were complications when Deborah was born. Complications meant her womb was damaged, there'd be no more children. Friends, thinking six was enough, had been passingly sympathetic. Her husband however, understood and let her work through it in her own time, at her own pace, in her own way, ready to listen when she screamed life was unfair, hold her when she sobbed, never offering false assurances or empty bromides, and never, until years later when she was ready to hear it, sharing with her his own disappointment, for he'd wanted more children as much as she.

Doctors, friends, told her they'd seen complications shatter marriages; they'd never before seen complications strengthen a marriage.
​

* * * * *​

"Maybe it's the way we've been going at it, we're acting like we're trying to make another."

She laughed and said, "Yeah, even the kids have noticed, they look at us with..."

She stopped, unsure of what to say. How did the kids look at them? It wasn't their old, "Isn't it cute when Mommy and Daddy do it smirks," more a respect for, an appreciation, of their parents' sexual side.

Seeing his wife pause Aaron said, "Yeah, the kids are more..." then stopped, unwilling to say the word.

Abbie finished the sentence, "...sexual."

"Yeah, it seems our children are becoming, have become, adult sexual beings."

Neither was daring enough to share what they were now thinking. They had begun to fid their children sexually desirable and although they felt that it should feel wrong, it didn't.
​

* * * * *​

Ben and Deborah called that night; they'd found a place to live; they'd be flying home in the morning. The twins, knowing their parents were planning to hike into the mountains to test the hammock, said they'd pick them up at the airport and that afternoon, for the first time, the six siblings made love as a group. When Abbie and Aaron returned the Sprit was thick in the house and, greeting Ben and Deborah with hugs, Abbie thought her magnificent son had never looked so good, Aaron that his daughter was as beautiful as her mother at that age.

At dinner that night Deborah and Ben said they'd be returning to Austin the following weekend to register and Becka and Charity asked Aaron to accompany them to Santa Fe to help find a place for them to live.

Later Abbie and Aaron made love and for the first time crossed the line, imagining they were with their children.
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* * * * *​

It was the following Saturday morning, after Aaron, Becka, and Charity left for Santa Fe and Ben and Deborah for Austin, that Christian and David sprang their surprise. "Hey Mom, we have reservations for three at The Turkey and the Hound, our treat."

It was her favorite restaurant, great food, funky, up-scale, but not overly formal. She hugged her sons, felt the sexual charge that had become all but omni-present, decided to dress up, put on a blouse, knee length skirt, and high-heel sandals, wore her blonde hair down.

Her sons, she was pleased to see, had done the same, wearing khaki slacks and pull-over shirts, David's sky-blue, Christian's teal. Admiring their muscular builds, so much like their father, she saw they'd become men.

Christian said, "Wow Mom, you look great." His brother nodded in agreement.

She rose on her toes, kissed his cheek, said, "Thanks honey," slipped an arm around his waist.

At lunch she sat between her boys; they were witty, funny, treated her like a queen, even flirted a bit. The food was delightful, the wait-staff attentive, the women openly admiring her sons, but who could blame them? They, like her, sensed Christian and David's sexual energy.

And if the waiter ogled her, it was nice to know at forty-two she still had it.

David's phone pinged. "It's from Becka, they checked into the hotel, they'll start looking at places to live this afternoon. They sent some links."

Abbie said, "Let me see," flipped through the descriptions, said, "These are all two bedrooms, one bath. How will your four fit, and entertain?"

Not batting an eye at his mother's not too subtle reference to sex David said, "Don't worry Mom, the four of us will find a way."

Abbie smiled, thinking herself blessed with children who so clearly loved each other, said, "I'm sure you will," and reaching across the table felt a charge when she grasped her sons' hands, a bigger one when they dragged their thumbs across her palms.

"How will it be for you and Dad? With Deborah taking off you'll have the house all to yourselves."

Deborah said, "I'm sure your father will keep me happy, he always has."

A knowing grin on his face David said, "I'm sure he will."

Abbie said, "Yes, I'm very lucky," then felt a charge between her legs when her sons, openly eyeing her, replied, "So is he."

The check came, the boys paid. Abbie gave each a kiss and hug, let her body linger on their powerful bulky muscles, wished Aaron was home. They's done it right before he left, but she was ready for more.

On the way home she sat between her sons, enjoying their bodies, their hands resting on her legs. They suggested a movie, she picked something they'd all enjoy, sat on the couch, leaned her body on David to her right. Christian, sitting to her left, placed her feet in his lap and she shifted position til practically laying in David's lap while Christian slipped off her sandals, massaged her feet. Abbie mewled; her son knew exactly how to touch her, when to be firm, when to be light. Her attention drifted from the movie.

Seeing her response David swept her blonde hair aside and kneaded her neck with strong fingers. Eyes closed, movie forgotten, increasingly aroused, Abbie let her sons work their magic, her mind in a netherworld between sleep and wakefulness.

Christian's hands moved under her skirt and although Abbie suspected he was testing her, she purred, "You boys make me feel so good," and parted her legs.

David's hands moved from her neck to her chest, his fingers grazing the top of her swelling breasts; Christian's hands moved further up her legs.

Her desire spiking, her thoughts increasingly forbidden, she decided to caution her sons and licking her lips said in a dreamy voice, "Boys this is wonderful, but be careful, don't go too far."

Her sons, however, heard an invitation, not a warning. Her tone of voice, her flushed skin, let them know she loved what they were doing to her. She'd also affirmed she knew they were going to far, but bade them continue, leaving it to them to determine where the line was.

Emboldened Christian said, "Just a massage, we don't often get our beautiful mother all to ourselves," moved a hand inside her thigh, used the other to caress the back of her knee, further opening her legs.

David, watching the slow rise and fall of his mother's chest, said, "Don't worry Mom, it's just the three of us, we're helping you relax, making you feel good."

Her nipples were outlined in her blouse. David looked to his brother, who nodded - he'd also seen them.

She knew she should stop them, but didn't want to. Instead, skin aglow, breathing flat and slow, tingling nipples hard, she was broadcasting her arousal. She arched her back, ran her tongue on her lips and her fingers down David's body, purred more than said, "Feels so good boys." Christian moved higher, within an inch of her sex, then his knuckle grazed her panties. She knew that he knew she was wet.

She also knew it was no accident and that just as her sons had become sexual objects to her, she had to them.

Christian pressed a fingertip to her mound, rubbed in a circular motion; Abbie raised her hips, bit her lip, rocked her sex on Christian's finger. David moved his hands down her body, cupped her breasts, squeezed them through her top.

Christian slipped a finger into her panties, then inside her. Abbie pushed herself onto him.

David's penis, hard and hot, was pressed to the small of her back.

Her, "We shouldn't be doing this," carried so little conviction as to be an endorsement.

Christian crooked his finger, found her g-spot, said, "Do you really want us to stop Mom?"

Abbie opened her eyes, glanced at David, at Christian. They wanted her to say it.

"No, I don't, please don't stop."

As David worked his hands under her top to her breasts Abbie lifted her butt and Christian tugged her panties down her legs, dropped them to the floor, leaned over, kissed her thigh, did it again, closer to her sex.

Deborah spread her legs, raised her arms, and David unbuttoned her blouse, pulled it over her head, slipped the straps of her simple pink satin bra off her shoulders, stroked the pale firm areolas, pinched and rolled her nipples.

Christian, hands on her inner thighs, further spread her legs, then kissed her pussy, darted his tongue inside her. Abbie squirmed, her cries growing louder, and Christian wiggled his way up to her clit, attacked the swollen nub with quick strong strokes of his tongue. She draped her legs on his back, trapped his head; Christian licked and sucked and fingered her aching cunt. She climaxed, but Christian kept going, drove her to another orgasm, then another and another until, her fingers relaxed and Christian, face glazed with her cream, raised his head, licked his lips, smiled. She considered pushing him back down, but wanting room for all of them said, "Boys, let's move this to the bedroom." Her and Aaron's king-sized modern Danish was the biggest bed in the house.​