7 comments/ 11298 views/ 0 favorites Names By: Catherine_Leary The girl came up to his door on a hot day that was like all the other hot days that had come before it and damn it he liked his days, hot or not, to be all the same. She knocked on his door. "What the hell do you want?" She knocked again. "I said what the hell do you want?" He peered out the hot glass at her form, smeared outline against the whitewashed desert. He looked for a car but didn't see one. That's how you crept up on me, he thought. No car. No engine. How in hell did she manage to get through all this blast-furnace waste without a car? She knocked. "What the hell do you want?" "Why does one knock?" "What?" He bellowed through the door. "What?" "I said, why does one knock?" He opened it. She stood there and smiled through the screen. "Yes. That's why." "You want to come in." "Yes." A hot wind blew dust in his face. The sun was so white and his eyes so squinted he could barely discern her face. "I want to come in." "I'm not going to let you in." "Where else am I going to go?" He thought about the miles. At least five of them, those had been the specifications when he built the house all those years ago: a minimum of five miles in every direction and gimme a stack of those thorny hills between myself and civilization. No roads either. Clear a space that I can find with a pickup truck and don't you worry about the state of it. I'll take care of it myself. Long miles of nothing but scrub and white hot sand. "It's not my affair. Where you're going nor how you came here." She wore sunglasses. They turned her visage into that of a giant insect. "If you don't let me in I'll get sick at the very least. I could die trying. As you have no road I don't even have that to follow back to the highway. The cell reception out here is not so good. It's better closer to the road but I have no way of reckoning myself back to the road. And you won't allow someone to come here. Getting rid of me entails at the very least you climbing into your truck and driving me through the desert and back to the road. I imagine you'd want to blindfold me first." He just looked at her. "To keep the secret. I might tell others. I might lead all the crazies to you." "How did you get here?" "I walked." "What?" "You heard me." "If you walked all the way in here you can walk right back out. I won't begrudge you some water if you want to hand me your jug." "How kind of you. Considering it's a hundred and four degrees out here and approaching noon. The killing hours. Do you want to watch my bones bleach in this desert?" "Right now, yes, that is what I want. That is what I want most sincerely. Nothing would please me more than to see your bones lying on the desert floor." She grinned. "That answer doesn't shock me at all. Was it intended to?" "How did you find your way here?" "My price is to walk through this door." "I won't allow that." "Then you'll never know." White salt stains encrusted the fine hairs on her upper lip. The big black glasses covered her eyes. "Supposing I made it out on my own," she said. "Supposing a trucker passed by just as I stumbled out into the highway. Say there was someone on the highway to catch me and take me back to a hospital somewhere and plump me back up full of water and feed me full of painkillers to numb my horrid sunburn and if it wasn't a Statie who picked me up off the highway there would soon be policemen in that room. All of them would want to know the story. How did a young woman such as myself come stumbling half-cooked out of the Mojave? Where did she come from? How indeed. I know the police must know you're here. I know someone knows. Someone has to. If I found myself in this situation…well, you're a brilliant man, aren't you?" "I don't believe you walked all the way here." "You don't have to." "Prove it." "I can't and you know it." She lifted her foot and hooked a finger into the back of her sneaker. She pulled it away from her heel. "Here's a blister. Is it bloody enough for you?" "God damn you. Damn you straight to hell. You're all crazy, do you know it? Crazy. Ever last one of you." "Your Appalachia is showing." He itched to smack her. "I'll get you your water. And then you can walk your pert little ass right back out to the highway killin hours be damned. Maybe a little heatstroke will teach you to stay away from a man's door. Be good for you, that's what I think. Could be you'll have a little vision in the desert. It's what all you crazies want, after all." She handed him the jug. It was empty. "I got no answers. You hear me? I got no answers. Everthing I had to say was in that damn book. I've got nothin to say to you." Her sunglasses were inscrutable. "It would please me to see you gone when I get back here to this door. It would please me very much." She stood there. "All right, all right. I'll go get your damn water." She sat down on the stairs, edged into a bit of shade, and waited. She pondered the passing moment, and the moments that had come before it, all of them unbroken in a line. She wondered how many moments had passed since the trucker left her on the highway, how many moments since she'd climbed into the truck, how many still since leaving her home. How many moments measured in footfalls? How many moments stretched between this one and the moment she'd decided to be here? Did the moments make a line or was there some loop happening outside her comprehension, a big cosmic stitch? She remembered the feeling. The certainty. The door opened. She stood up and turned around. He stood with the jug in his hand, now dripping water. She couldn't look away from the drips. The white plastic tainted with the weight of the water inside. Light passed through it in a different fashion. She imagined its temperature, how it would feel in her throat, and she was amazed to realize that she could no longer conceptualize cold. She knew it, knew it as a thing, but the heat killed her memory. It was so hot out here she felt shimmers building in her brain. The darkness behind him, the cool shade of the house, looked Stygian and welcoming. She could not see the furnishings. "Here's your water," he said. "Now get out of here." He wore a T-shirt and a pair of old shorts and some flip-flop sandals. His hair was mussed. The long journey made it hard to think. She wanted to talk but her mouth was filled with the sensation of his unshaved face. Her words had nestled in her fingertips. She felt the visuals on her tongue and her skin longed to speak and she thirsted somewhere in her navel and her confusion hammered out of the bright light, stretched on the ground and pounded by the string of moments to a malleable thickness. She felt it folding around her. This was part of how he wrote; the strangeness of time in the desert. "I can no longer conceptualize cold," she said. "I have no memory of it." He blinked and squinted. "How's that for outrageous? I grew up in the cold but I can't remember it. It's all words like numb and crystal and ice and snow and they mean nothing. It's like sand. Sand falling through my fingers. I want to conjure the memory of cold and I can't. I can't do it." He started to open the door. "My senses have all swapped places. How's that for fucked? I see your face with my fingers. I taste the color of your eyes. I smell your voice." She started to laugh. "This heat is stewing my brain. Cook, cook. Steam. Whew! I've gone synesthetic. Whew!" "You're crazy." He handed her the jug. "You're a crazy stupid little girl and I want you off my land." "Please let me in." "No." "I'm going to faint." "Go right ahead." "No, really. I am." "Is this some sort of threat?" She took a drink of the water. The first touch of it on her tongue drove back the shimmers. She drank too quickly. The sensation of cold filled her thoughts along with a floating, and she drank more thinking the weight of the water would be enough to hold her down, to keep her conscious. Water spilled down the sides of her face. Water dripped on her chest. She drank until her stomach felt like a stone. She closed her eyes for a moment and took deep breaths. "No," she said. "Tell me about my bones." "Huh?" "My bones lying in the desert. Tell me about my bones." "Your bones aren't in the desert. They're inside your skin." "Not yet. They aren't yet. Are you thinking about my bones? I'm dead. My bones are stewing in the waste. I'm dead and I just don't know it yet." "I'm not thinkin about your bones. I'm thinkin about your insanity." "Tell me about them. Say something pretty." "The sun has taken your crazy brain and turned it inside out." She swayed on her feet. Her eyes rolled back in her head. "Oh shit." She fainted. Names He walked to the window. "Close your eyes." "How am I supposed to see with my eyes closed?" "Just shut up and trust me." He closed his mouth. A moment later he closed his eyes. "Consider this repayment for the juice." She put her hands on his shoulders. She rested them there. "Now keep them closed. Don't open until I tell you to. This is important. Do not open your eyes. Not even for a second. Even a second will ruin the effect. Do you understand?" "Yes." "Not until I tell you to. Repeat it." "Not until you tell me to." "That's right. Now shush. I'm going to touch you. Shhh." She put a hand on the nape of his neck and left it there until the skin grew warm. When it was warm she lifted her hand and drew a slow circle. He felt it tingle. "Don't you open those eyes. I hear you thinking about it. Don't speak either." He drew in a breath. "All right." She took her hand away. "Now open." He did and for a moment the light was too bright. The mountains came into focus, the jagged outline of rocks. A stand of cholla. Low snarls of prickly pear. The pink light was everywhere. It filled the crevices and stained the dust and drew long purple shadows across the ground. The sun was a hot boil, a bullet wound torn into the sky and leaking blood. It spread along the horizon. It went to flame before his eyes and the one breath tightened in his chest: pink pearl and immolated blood and even the long purple shadows were gorgeous. "How did you…?" "Oldest trick in the book. I took your eyes out of the equation and distracted you with touch. When you opened them again you weren't thinking about your eyes or what you were seeing. You were thinking about my fingers. Then once your eyes reoriented to seeing you could actually see, without all the blinders of thought. You got anything to eat around here?" "Um, yeah. In the kitchen." "I kind of gathered that. You busy yourself with the window. I'll go fix myself a sandwich." "I'm not going to busy myself with the window." "Then don't. I'm going to busy myself with that sandwich." She went into the kitchen. She opened cabinets and peered inside them. She looked in the fridge. She found a loaf of bread and some peanut butter. "Mmm and honey too." She took down the jar. "You know how long it's been since I had a peanut butter and honey sandwich?" "Of course I don't." "Well, it's been a long time." She fished out two slices of bread and dropped them on the counter. "Where are the knives?" "Use a spoon." "A spoon?" "Sure. Spreads easier." "Why not. I never thought of using a spoon." "I bet there are lots of things you've never thought of." "Cute. So cute when you're sarcastic." "Look at you. Just bustin into my food like that. You've got no shame." "You're looking at the woman who walked five miles in the desert sun just to be here. And fainted. She fainted at your door just so she could find a way to bust into your food. Mmm. Honey." She licked a spill off her thumb. "Yummy honey. Yummy yummy. I tell you the fainting was worth this alone." "Are you ever gonna tell me why?" "You're an anchorite. I'm so jealous. I wish I could leave the rest of my life behind and abandon reality and live in a cave. It's a metaphorical cave, but still. It's like being an anchorite. I wish I could be alone with all those sunsets. When you're alone with them long enough the sunsets start to talk. Don't they." He scoffed. "Or are you just afraid?" "I'm not afraid." "I see why you write. There's nothing else to do." "There's plenty to do. Takin care of this place is no mean feat. Everthing's gotta work. It won't do to have the air conditioning quit or to have something in the pump go or to spring a hole in one of the pipes. Or to have the goddamn toilet back up. Who's gonna come out and fix it? You know how much a plumber charges when he has to come all the way out here?" She put the pieces of bread together and took a big bite. "Nope." "And you don't care either, do you." "Nope." "It's all just wind." "Yep. I know, I know: you don't care what I think." She held up the sandwich. "You want one of these?" "Naw." "Are you sure?" "Yeah, I'm sure." "Suit yourself." "I aim to." "So why did you come out here? You know, to live." "I came out here over a woman." "Really?" "No. I inherited this big pile of money. Figured I'd spend it all on land and I got the most bang for my buck out here. There was already a well drilled and so I thought why not? Build a house. Just disappear." "Really?" He smiled. "Nope." "Now you're fucking with me." "I like it. The empty places speak to me." She rolled her eyes. "Now that's some bullshit right there. It's the kind of thing you think I'd want you to say. The resonance of lonely places. The cutting light of noon. The deepening shadows. I could go on and on." "I never wrote such tripe." "You might want to watch it. You're edging into dangerous territory." He watched her take great bites out of the white bread. "There are always bones in places of water. A tree of ribs gives no shade and men come to the water's edge and sift through their chalky footprints. They put the pieces in their pockets. They do it against the thirst. A bone is a talisman and it will lead you to water. You did write that." He stood in the doorway. "And they all moved on. You wrote that too." "Anyone could write that. A sentence so simple a child could construct it." "But a child wouldn't put it in this context. No one would, really. That is why they make such a big deal of you." "They have nothing better to do with their time." "Aren't you curious? Of course you are. It's where the countless hours of research come from. The days spent in meditation. You've made curiosity a religion. What makes a bone a bone? What gives superstition its power? Why do men and women forsake their homes? What does the dream really mean? Are there any satisfactory answers?" "No." "But there are a lot of reflections. Mirrors that show what's around the corner. Mirrors that show your own face. That's where all the answers are anyway." "What does a bone mean to you?" She tore a paper towel off the roll. She wiped her lips with it. "Careful," she said. "Careful." "The significance lies within the reader. To me they are just bones." "You're lying." "Bones are death." "You're still lying." "Bones are the summation of the past." "These aren't even good lies. These lies are beneath you. They aren't even passable. They aren't pretty." "The truth is seldom pretty." "No. It is beautiful." He thought about the strangulation of memory. The death of an ice cube. "Even when it's ugly it is still beautiful. It is beautiful for all the bleeding and the awfulness and the pain. The beauty isn't in the softness of the words or their clean smooth flow onto the page. It's not in the rhythms of speech. The beauty lies in the power to stop breath. It's like a kick. But it's the kick you want. Perhaps it's even the kick you need. The resulting pain is an anchor. It's a way back to life. Imagine if you will a woman on the floor. She wants to be slapped. She wants it and she fears it and there is a man who will give it to her even though she cries and shields her face and curls up on the floor. Even though she hides her face. This man knows. It is the knowing that is beautiful." He thought about that lazy circle full of pink light. "Bones hold everything else up. When they are stripped down and the life gone, they are still standing. They are monuments to air once breathed. They are monuments to water." She looked at him. "Everything in art is simple. The bones hold the memory. Everything crumbles in the face of water." "What is water?" "Water is life." "And the desert?" "Stasis." "Interesting." "If water is life it stands to reason that the desert is death. But the desert has nothing to do with reason. It's a held breath." "A held breath." "One that has been waiting for a long time." "I want to brush my teeth." "Well go on ahead. I'm not gonna stop you." She fished a toothbrush out of her small bag and went into the bathroom. She used his toothpaste. He watched her lean over the sink and watch herself in the mirror. She cupped her palms together and filled them with water and rinsed out her mouth. "You know, I figured you for one of those Dixie cup guys." "What does that mean?" "It means I want to kiss you." "What do Dixie cups have to do with kissin?" "Not a damn thing." She wiped her hands on a towel and stepped up to him so they were standing belly to belly in the doorway. "Do you want me to?" "Are you always so forward?" "Yes." She grinned. "Well, maybe not always. I was considerate. I brushed the barf off my teeth. But yes, most of the time. I am." "And they say the younger generation has no manners." "Are you uncomfortable?" "A little." "Do you want me to stop?" "I'm thinkin on it." "It's okay. Take your time." She took his hands and put them on her hips. She squeezed his fingers and set his grip, then leaned her shoulders into the doorway. Her ass slid into his palms. He pulled her against him. "Oooh. Nice." "A man gets lonely out here." She put her arms around his neck. "I have no sympathy for the man. The man does it to himself." He rubbed the space between her collarbones. "You come out here for this?" "No." He kissed her neck. "Your bones are living and beautiful. They are holding you up. They are full of blood and strength. They know their way through desolate places." He moved his hands up her back. "They reckon by the starlight. They know the smell of water. Now tell me about my bones." "I don't have the words." "You have them." He put a hand under her shirt. "Tell me." "They sing." Her breath came faster. "They sing in their chains like the sea." "Why are you here?" "Because I don't know where else to be." He pinched her nipple. "I'll ask again." She gasped. "The pink light made me do it." "Tell me the truth. Tell me the beauty." "I dared myself and a friend tried to talk me out of it. Sometimes I want to be you. Sometimes I am you. Sometimes I'm so full of fear that it makes me crazy. I don't know how else to be." She held his hips tight to her own. "Your words turn me on. They tie me down. They cut me and clean away the blood and hold me up so the sun burns me and my blood is hallowed in this dry place and all of these things are true but they're only reflections," she whispered. "They're bones." He pulled down her jaw and covered her mouth with his. She groaned and met his tongue with her own. He pulled back. "Take your clothes off." She shrugged out of her shirt. "You catch on quick. Show me your tits. Aw now that's pretty. Lookit you blush." She leaned her head into the wood. "Tell me something interesting." "How am I supposed to know what you find interesting?" "Make a guess." "Some fellows down in Ethiopia found a fossil skull, three hundred thousand years old. It shows evidence of having been scalped. Three hundred thousand years men have been doin this to each other. Can you believe that?" She unfastened her bra. "I see you can believe it just fine. You wanna hear about the boiled bones of Chaco Canyon?" She unbuttoned her shorts. "The flaying rituals of the Aztec Indians?" She shimmied out of her panties and pulled him down into a kiss. He groaned a little and held her face and kissed the sides of her jaw. She arched her throat into his mouth. "Could be you're the last young woman in the world to leave her pubic hair alone," he murmured into her skin. "What do you think of that?" She laughed a breathless laugh. "You look nice naked." "Mmmm. Are you hard?" "Stick your hand down there and find out for yourself." "Show me." He put a hand in his shorts. He stroked a few times under the loose cloth and pulled down the elastic. "You're nasty." "Keep talkin." "You are a nasty, dirty man." "Now you're makin me want to play with it." "Would you?" "Would you like that?" "Yes." He spit twice into his palm and grabbed hold of his cock and stroked. She kissed his neck. "That's so hot." "You think so?" "Does it feel nice?" "Yeah, it feels nice." "It looks nice," she murmured. "But I want you to stop." "I don't wanna stop." "But I want to play too." "By all means, darlin." "No. I want you to watch me." She put a hand between her thighs. "Tell me when." She bit her lip. "Don't let me finish." "Aren't you a dirty little thing." "Don't let me go too far." She breathed the words. "Stop me." "I'm not gonna do that, darlin." "I want you to." "You like that?" She whimpered. "Yes." "Feels good, don't it?" "Yes!" "Put your fingers in there." She bent her knees and hooked her fingers inside herself. "Now how does that feel?" Her chest heaved. "Good." "I ain't gonna stop you." Her knees weakened. "Please, I…I…" He leaned forward and put a hand on her breast and whispered into her ear: "I like watchin you diddle yourself. I like watchin you get all weak in the knees. I like seein how much of a slut you are. So I ain't gonna stop you. Understand?" Her eyes closed. Her hand strummed across the dark hair. "You understand?" He brushed a thumb across her bottom lip. "Say it. Say I understand." "I…" "Come on now, darlin. You can do better'n that. Say it." "I…uh." "You're close." "Uh." "Close." "I…" "That's nice. That's so nice." "I…understand!" Her body locked, then moved again, stiffened and hesitated; her fingers kept going and her breathing cracked. She cried out, grabbing onto his arm. She dug her fingers in. Her hips bumped once, twice, three times, punctuated by a long rhythmic moan. Her knees softened and she started to slide. He held her up and she clung to him, breathing hard into his neck. "Now that was a lovely thing to see." She panted. He cupped one buttock and she wrapped that leg around him and whined a little. She rubbed her cunt against him in tiny hard circles. He put his face in her neck and ran his nose along the length of it, clasping her buttocks in an iron grip. Her breathing sharpened. "I wanna fuck you," he whispered. "I wanna fuck you so damn bad." "Oh yeah." She ground harder. "Yeah." "I need to get you out of this doorway." She loosened the grip of her leg. He held her rump and leaned into her space, just breathing, his forehead balanced on her forehead. She lifted her chin and her breath mingled with his; she kissed him, quick and soft on his mouth. Her breasts hung against his chest. He took up a handful of one and kissed her lips and bent his head and kissed her nipple. "Out this damn doorway," he breathed. She let go, her hands opening and sliding down along his arms. She stepped out of the doorway and kept her eyes on his face. He went into the bedroom and she followed. The bed was unmade and the rumpled sheets smelled unwashed, like a nest. She went to him and put her nose in his hair and drew a deep breath, her skin flush with his body, and he took her into his arms and inhaled the sharp scent of the sweat nestled in the folds of her thighs and the clean warmth of her shoulders, salty and pale. He flicked his tongue across them. She moved her hands over his hair and licked his ear and pulled his shirt up and off. He looked into her eyes. He took her breasts in both hands and hefted their weight, then got down on one knee and licked her nipples until they stood up and licked them a little more. She got on the bed. He climbed over her and hauled her hips, sliding her across the mattress until she was level. He pushed down his shorts. "Say yes." She spread her thighs wide. "Yes." He went in slow. "I want to feel this," she whispered. Names "Shhh darlin." He let a hand hover over her navel. "What do you see?" All that darkness awoke something primitive. "I see you," she whispered. "I see you seeing me." His touch ignited a rush of breath. She felt heat, and tingling, and racing gooseflesh. "Don't you close em," he said. "I know you want to." She closed her eyes. The fire drew in and concentrated in her womb. "What are you doing to me?" "Open your damn eyes." She did. "I'm just touchin you. That's all." "It feels like a lot more than that." "Look for yourself." His hand rested on her navel. It rose and fell with her breath. Her breath increased and his knuckles rose and fell faster. "How does it feel?" "I don't…know. Tingly. Warm. Throbbing. Awake." He took his hand away and slid down. He licked her belly. She felt the shock of it and gasped. "I don't care what you think of your body. I think it's sexy. You've got a belly and it makes you sexy. Doin this with you is makin me want you." "I can't go again." "I can." He slipped a finger in her and pulled it out. "So can you." "I can't. I'm too tired." "I want to turn you over. I want to fuck you that way. I want you to say my name." "When is enough enough?" "I don't know." He went down and licked her clit. "Not yet. It's not enough yet." "Is it ever enough?" He moved off her. He took hold of her shoulder and flipped her over and pulled up her hips. He spread her cunt open and slipped his tongue inside her. He drew circles with his tongue around her clit. "I don't know." He slid three fingers in and pumped them. "One more time. Just one more time." She rocked her ass into his hand. "That's it." He rubbed her clit. "Yes. Yes." "Do it." "Do what?" "Fuck me." "What's my name?" She hung her head. "Joel." He breathed faster. "Ask me nice." "Please fuck me, Joel." He got on his knees. He steadied her hips and she gasped at the invasion. He leaned over her and held her shoulders down and slammed into her. She cried out. He took a handful of hair and pulled on it until her neck bent back and her face lifted out of the pillow. "You aren't fuckin no damned book. You're fuckin a man." She grunted with every thrust. "You understand me, you grandiloquent bitch?" "Y-Yes!" Namesake's Legacy No persons, animals or plants were harmed in the production of this story. Realities, sensibilities, taboos and cultural norms were defiled. Sometimes words were abused. Sentence structure was sometimes slaughtered and grammar sometimes butchered. Please don't bother to point out any of these self- acknowledged faults, unless, of course, you are a horny MILF with schoolteacher fantasies. Then you can join me in after-school detention. I would love to hear from you. I have done my best to present a readable and I hope an entertaining story. * PROLOGUE: I turned the corner onto our street. I was greeted by a scene out of a television show. There must have been a dozen police cars, marked and unmarked. The street was teeming with activity. Half a dozen reporters and their camera crews, were jabbering away. My heart sunk as I realized that all the attention was clustered around our house. I peddled as hard as I could towards the house. About thirty yards away from our driveway I was intercepted by a couple of cops who apparently knew who I was. I was rather harshly yanked off of my bike and escorted to a makeshift command center behind our house. My 19-year-old sister was there, tearful and visibly upset. There was no sign of my mom or her husband of 6 years. They had been arrested. My mom was in custody for three days. With the help of an attorney friend of hers she was released on bail. They refused let her husband out, citing a high risk of flight. Three weeks later the charges against mom were dropped. Her husband, Dan, had confessed. I felt a small measure of vindication when all the truth was revealed as I had always mistrusted him. It turned out Danny boy was leading a double life. He presented himself to his family and community as a respected real estate entrepreneur. That however, was an elaborate and clever cover to defraud many a household of their savings. To top that off he was neck deep in debt and had been stringing along a couple girlfriends on the side. The only decent thing he did was to finally tell the truth, which cleared my mom's name and saved her the hassle of an expensive legal battle. His deal with the state and federal prosecutors however, left us rather destitute. We lost our house and most of mom's savings. We were all devastated, but mom was hurt and ashamed the most. The last straw came one night several weeks after this mess started. I had just graduated from high school. We had moved into a trailer. I had come home from my summer job at the golf course to find my mom and sister tearful and frantic. First my sister then mom had received threatening phone calls, demanding money. It seemed that Dan had not only cheated little old ladies of their savings but also some unsavory characters, who were non-too- happy. We called the authorities but some of the law enforcement types were never convinced of mom's innocence. They were not too keen to help. Finally a female FBI Special Agent stepped in and lent a hand. She had been one of the few compassionate figures in the investigation. She advised us to move and coached us on how to legally disguise and conceal our identities. On her end the Special Agent followed up on some of the left over leads from Dan's fiasco intending to scare off those who may still lurking. It was not the witness protection program but it was enough to take the heat off us. We started over in a new location, barely owning anything. We moved to a small town in the rural mid west. We were able to find an old farmhouse to move into. It needed quite a bit of work. The deal was that I would be the laborer on the renovation in exchange for rent and meager pay. The owner came by daily and showed me what to do, how to do it and brought in the needed supplies. Since my college plans were on hold. My mom and sister regularly drove the only two vehicles we owned. It was an ideal job for me. I got a bit extra cash on the side and I learned some valuable skills. The community we moved into was very small. It was very tight-nit and most regarded all outsiders and newcomers with disdain and mistrust. It was even tougher on us since we really did not care to join one of the two churches there. There were no bars or other entertainment except the local high school sporting events. My options for entertainment were limited. I did spend more time than I should on the net. My former girlfriend no longer wanted anything to do with me. Chatting up my other friends became stale. Porn became an occasional source of relief. Otherwise, I practiced my bass guitar, worked out and regularly watched rented DVD's, with mom and sis. My sister, Jane worked at the local dairy queen and was able to make a couple of casual friends. She was also bored and biding her time until she can move away and restart college. Mom worked as a bookkeeper at the local general store and helped some of the farmers and businessmen with their taxes. At home we were buddies and kept each other entertained. Mom seemed to be a pillar of strength. Though, she did have a temper. I guessed it was a family trait. Mostly she was cheery and up beat. She rarely showed the hurt and embarrassment my sister and I knew she struggled with. My high school friends had all thought she was hot. And she managed to stay trim and keep her attractiveness despite her tough time. I believed that with time she would be all right. All in all we were safe and that's what mattered. I kept telling myself that it was just a matter of time before I could get my life back on track. I accepted that my obligations to my mom and my sister superseded any short-term plans I had for myself. Mom always thanked me for the mature way I dealt with all this. I never knew my dad. He never took any responsibility for my sister and I. In fact he split before I was born. My mom gave me her family name after I was born, O'Hern. I guessed that made me a bastard. Mom and sis were all I had. Mom was proud of how we all stuck together during adversity. That was fine and dandy but it sure did not quench my restlessness or my horniness. Looking back at my relatively short life, I could not think of anything worse that had happened to us. It was hard for me to fathom then, that from these hard times came incredible experiences that unlocked unimaginable passion. Part 1 It was an ugly evening. The wind blew the torrential rain sideway, making the windows shudder. I waited in my room. The computer screen provided a dim eerie glow. After a bit I turned my off PC, expecting another blackout. I was bored and a bit worried. Mom was late. It was really unlike her to be late without a call. Normally, a nineteen year old did not worry so much about the whereabouts of his mom. However, after all we'd been through I couldn't help it. Besides I was bored out of my skull. She was driving the only available car. My sister, the lucky twerp, had the other car. She was away touring and interviewing several colleges. She at least got to get out of this shit-hole town for a couple of weeks. I picked up my bass and hoped the power would not cut out began to play some of my riffs and scales. My mind wandered back to an evening several weeks ago. Before she went out my sister had confided in me that she was interested in a local man. She'd planned to meet him after she got off work. It had been her manager at work. He'd been about ten years older than her. "I'm so tired of living like a recluse in this stupid town", she had said, "I don't give a shit if he's my manager I just need to have some fun." "Your manager?" I'd said, "He's married, holy shit Jane are you sure that's cool?" "I can care less Russ," Jane had said indignantly, "I need to do something. I feel like I'm wasting away." "But your manger? Aren't you afraid of losing your job?" "What do you know? Besides I know you're no prude. How the hell do you keep from going crazy?' "I don't know sis. It's tough. I just survive. I figure it's only temporary." "You must be some kind of celibate, bro. Or maybe you're into some really good porn. If you weren't my brother hell I'd even go out with you." "You couldn't handle me sis." I had replied. "Just lay off me bro. And tell me where I can find some of that good porn, you wanker." She had retorted with smile, playfully punching my shoulder. She had gotten up and left to get ready. Before I went to sleep later that evening, I had e-mailed her a link to my favorite erotic story sites on the net. I hadn't been asleep for too long when I was awakened by the unmistakable voices of mom and sister arguing. "Where the hell have you been?" I'd heard my mom's angry voice, waking me from my slumber, "After all we've been through, the least you could have done is call me that you'll be late." "Jeez mom what's the big deal? I was just out trying to have a good time." "I saw you earlier with Rick Crandle. Don't you know he's married and he's your boss to boot?" "Hey I'm an adult and I know what I'm doing". "You listen to me young lady," Mom had used her most stern and serious voice, "You live this house and you'll follow some basic rules. What the hell are you trying to do? Do want us to get run of town again?" "I'm not the one who has problems choosing men, mom! I'm going to bed." "How dare you throw that in my face. Now sit right down and listen to me…" "Let go of me mom!" Jane had screamed at her. "Don't you dare push me young lady, I'll show you." I had always known better than to get in the middle when those two. Screaming and yelling was one thing. I was frightened, however, that this had gotten out of hand. Like me they had possessed hot tempers. So I'd jumped out bed and put my lounge pants on as I'd heard them scuffling. I had it made out of my room and down the long upstairs hall when I'd heard the unmistakable rhythmic sound of a spanking. I'd wisely decided to be a little more cautious in my approach. I had quietly made it to the top of the stairs and looked down into the living room. My sister had struggled hard as mom delivered blow after blow on her bottom. Jane had worn a tight little skirt that evening. It had been pushed up to the top of her thighs. She had wiggled and squirmed across mom's lap. Mom's hand had furiously turned the barely exposed bottom folds of my sister's ass red. "Ouch" she had screamed, "Please stop". "Listen to me," the blow had continued, "You will never ever strike me again." "Ouch, please stop. I'm sorry!" "You will be a responsible member of this household." "Mom, please! I'm sorry I'll be good I promise." Slap! "I expect you will act in a matter that's respectable" Mom had pulled up her skirt revealing a bare, panty-less firm bottom. Red splotches had formed on her upper thighs and ass, "My, my and you will dress respectably too!" She had punctuated her last statement with several resounding slaps. "OUCH, please mom I'm sorry, really I am! I'm sorry!" The spanking had stopped. She had started to gently stroke my sobbing sister's inflamed bottom. "Now, now I hope I won't have to repeat my self in the future." In as much as I was glued to this scene I had had enough common sense to withdraw quietly to my room. In the seclusion of my darkened room I had logged on to my computer. Fully aroused I had stayed up all night surfing the web for spanking sites. It was a brief matter of time and a few link clicks away before I stumbled on incest story erotica. However, the sight of my sister's red ass, getting spanked by her own mom, incessantly drove me to distraction and gnawed at me. A rumble of thunder snapped me out of my reverie. I contemplated logging on my computer again. I had over time discovered some really hot spanking sites, incest story sites and sites that dealt with older women and younger guys. Now I was not some nerdy compulsive wanker. Shit, I hadn't had sex for about nine months. I was a healthy and fit nineteen year old after all, living with two hot women. My sister was small and somewhat skinny. She had a tight little ass. She kept her golden hair short which gave her a pixie look. She had smallish perky tits that jiggled ever so slightly when she wore no bra. My mother was about five foot seven. She was not like any of the typical MILFs on the net. In other words she was not surgically enhanced in any way. She did however possess a sexy and very curvy figure. Her breasts are ample but not in an exaggerated way. She did have a beautiful hourglass shape. She had long auburn hair that she worn down most of the time. She was a very hot 47 years old. Being in the same household with both those women, I could not help but admire them and at times be aroused by the casual glimpses of their bodies. The thought having sex with them never seriously crossed my mind beyond the casual fantasy. But I couldn't help but find the forbidden notion of incest hot. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. I made my way downstairs. My mom was shedding her raincoat and putting away her umbrella. "It's awful out there," she smiled. "Mom, where have you been?" I said, a bit too urgently. Immediately, her demeanor changed. "Russ, honey, I was just out," She said hesitantly, "I just had a cup of coffee with someone." "Someone? Like who?" I was a bit curious now. I smelled a fait trace of alcohol on her breath. She did not seem drunk though. "Not that it's any of your business young man," She said, trying to regain her composure, "but if you must know, I was with Rick Crandle." "Rick Crandle! He's…" I was flabbergasted, but I knew better than to say that my sister had the hots for him, "He's married! And he's, he's Jane's boss!" "Now you listen here Russell O'Hern," She was getting pretty livid, "I'm not going to put up with your little inquisition. Rest assured nothing happened." "Yeah right!" "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She moved in real close, pointing her finger at my chest. "Hell mom, I can smell the booze on your breath." I really did not feel like backing down nor losing this argument. "Hey I'm the parent here Russ. I'll not have you question my judgment." She poked my chest with her finger. Something in me snapped. Perhaps it was all my pent up frustration at our current circumstance or maybe her finger poking me, I impulsively said "Yeah like your judgment about your jailbird Danny." After I'd said it I immediately and regretfully knew that was low blow. "I can't believe you said that Russ," She grabbed my shirt at the shoulder and pushed me toward the couch, "That's so unfair. Now you lay off". She exerted more force. I definitely did not want to hurt her, but I sure didn't like being pushed. So I just went with her effort and sat down the couch. That pulled her off balance. She was now leaning over me her hand on my knee. "Stop pushing me. What the hell am I supposed to think Mom?" I continued, "You say you were out with some married guy and you come home late, smelling of booze." She didn't move. Her fingers dug into my knee. Her other hand repeatedly slapped my chest. "I'm the parent here mister! Now I'm not going to put up with your shit anymore." "Then stop attacking me mom." I grabbed her wrist and twisted her hand away, not letting go. "Ok, ok just let go, please it hurts." It seemed the wind was finally out of her sail. "Perhaps we're both too wound up", She added. "Just stop hitting me I hate that." "Ok now let go please. You've made your point." I released the grip on her wrist. She placed both hands on my knees and kissed my cheek. "What's gotten into us? I'm sorry I just had a bad day." I could not pass up this opportunity to sneak a peek down her blouse. Well what could I say, I was a horny nineteen year old. Her breasts looked magnificent, cradled in a frilly lavender bra. Before, I jerked my awareness to the present situation I wondered if she was wearing panties to match. That contact, though borne out of frustration, was somewhat stimulating. "Well we O'Hern's are known for our hot blood aren't we," She said with a playful chuckle, "I like that about you. Let's just agree to behave more like adults next time". "Adult, huh mom?" I teased, "The last time someone came home late she got a spanking". "Oh my, you heard us? Now you should not have been eavesdropping, mister curious George," "Hell mom you were loud enough to wake the dead." With an impish glitter in her hazel eyes, she removed her hands from my knees and tickled my ribcage, "Besides, I don't think you have the guts to give your old me a spanking". I was very ticklish. I squirmed as she tickled me. And I finally got a hold of both her hands to stave off her assault. Then it fully registered what she said. My family had had this way of challenging me and getting me to do stuff. "I don't think you have the guts to do a back flip off the dock," someone would say. There I'd go, back flipping off the dock. "I don't think you have the guts to climb that tree." Up the tree I'd go. Since her request seemed so audacious I hesitated on acting on her challenge, "I wouldn't be so sure mom". She wiggled a hand free and tried to tickle me some more. She giggled, and clear as a bell, she said it again, "I don't think you have the guts to give your old lady a spanking". As nineteen -year-old male, I was not the swiftest when it came to nuance of social interaction. I knew that. By then there was no mistaking what I was being challenged to do. And as a nineteen-year-old male, I was not going to let that challenge go unanswered. I pulled her over my lap. I started to lightly spank her bottom. She was wearing a skirt that covered the upper half of her thigh. I vividly remember how her bottom felt as my first tentative slap connected. Even through the fabric of her skirt, her ass felt amazing. It was both firm and soft at the same time. It jiggled so hot under the force of my hand. She laughed and yelped as I began to spank her. She struggled and wiggled on my lap and tried to stop my blows. She tried to ward of my slaps with her hands. I pushed them away and the intensity of my strikes increased. "Oh, stop it honey," She yelped, "That's starting to sting!" "I told you I could do it," I was gaining some courage. My cock stirred in my shorts, "Tell me you're sorry." "Russ," She hissed, "I am your mother stop this at once. Ouch!" I did not stop. I held her down tight. She protested. She struggled. My cock was rock hard. I was sure she could feel it pressing on her tummy. It had gotten this far and I didn't care. My blows were rather hard, raining down on her wonderful ass. I wished that her skirt wasn't covering it. "Now mom, tell me you're sorry." "Russ, I'm sorry please, please stop." She pleaded, "I'm sorry". I knew I had to end it but I wanted to prolong this incredible scene as long as possible. "Sorry for what mom?" I demanded as I slapped her bottom, alternating from one cheek to the other. With my other hand I yanked up her skirt, partially exposing her ass, spanking her harder on her exposed flesh. "OW! I'm sorry for being late". Slap. "OH! I'm sorry for pushing you". Slap. "I'm sorry for hitting you. Please stop. You've made your point. Ouch, stop please". I stopped spanking her. For what seemed like an eternity she just lay there. We were both breathing hard. "I guess I deserved that didn't I?" She spoke softly. "Mom, I…" I was at loss for words. "I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me." Namesake's Legacy "It's ok honey. You did what you had to. Besides I am a sucker for strong men." She reached back and gave my leg a tender squeeze. She then got up partially and pulled down her skirt. There in front of my face was a generous red bottom. She wore a lavender thong. "Please honey, rub it gently for me. It still stings". I massaged her lovely ass. I heard her moan softly. "I'm sorry I hurt you". "No baby, don't be sorry. I guess I had it coming," She whispered. I didn't know how to respond to that. Perhaps I was just too preoccupied with feeling her smooth, tender fleshy cheeks. Before I could think of anything to say, mom said, "Oh Russ, we've had a terrible time haven't we?" "Yeah mom, it's been pretty crappy. I mean, shit we've lost everything. But we still have each other right?" Mom began to cry. It was soft at first but sobs followed shortly after. "Russell honey, I am so sorry," she sobbed, "I didn't know Dan was such a crook." "Mom, it's ok. I know it wasn't your fault." I continued to caress her scantily clad behind. "I can't help it help it. I feel terrible for all you've been through," She declared, "Just so you know, it wasn't as it seemed with Rick Crandle. He was trying to date your sister, and I just wanted to put a stop to it. He agreed to meet me and I threatened to tell his wife after he wanted to give me money for sex. I just feel so rotten about everything." "Mom, It will be alright." "Russ honey, I just feel so bad. I can't help it I feel like I need to be punished. Please spank me again hard." "What?" Ok call me dense to question an invitation like that, but I was nineteen and she was my own mother after all. "I've done other bad things too," She sobbed, "The other night I was in you room looking for the car keys. You left your computer on. I saw all the pictures and videos you look at. I'm so sorry, but if it would make it up to you spank me. Please honey spank mommy, just like those dirty videos. Spank me please!" "You looked at my computer?" I was incredulous. Yikes, did she see the incest stories? Privacy had always been a sacred practice in our household. I did not need any more prompting. Slap! My hand against the bare flesh of her ass made completely different sound and had an incredibly fantastic feel to it. It was intoxicating. "Ouch, I know I shouldn't have done that Russ," She hissed between sobs. Now I was thinking that I'm glad she had done it. Slap! Slap! Slap! "You knew how much I hate having my privacy invaded". "Ouch, "She cried, "I'm sorry honey I was wrong to do it. Ouch! Spank me harder". Slap! "Harder!" I was really into it by then. Emulating the videos I'd watched, I rained down some pretty hard blows on her quivering ass. Mom squealed and cried. "Oh honey that really hurts. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry. Really I am". "Tell me you won't ever get into my computer again". Slap, slap, slap. "I won't I promise honey, I wont. Ah, please stop it's really stinging now." She tearfully pleaded. I spanked her a few more times and ended with a hard resonating slap. "Ouch! OUCH!" She cried out. I rubbed her inflamed flesh for awhile until her crying subsided. She just laid across my lap, sniffling. After what seemed as an eternity, she spoke up. "Thank you. I really needed that. Whenever, I felt bad about something I did, I always felt better after a good spanking. You were quite good at it. My daddy spanked me like this well into my twenties." She got up and stood in front me. Her back was turned to me and her ass was at face level. She looked over her shoulder, "Look at how red you made it." She didn't really give me time to reply. "And look at you. You're quite inflamed yourself". She kneeled down in between my knees, looking directly at my bulging crotch. "That looks like it may need some attention." She whispered. She released my cock from my shorts, "Oh my that is so beautiful. Just sit back and let me take care it." She first took off her blouse. She then ran a finger over the length of my shaft. "Let mommy take care of you." The sight of her tits mesmerized me. They bounced rhythmically in her brassiere as she stroked my throbbing member. It didn't take long at all until my whole body stiffened and I spurted. She caught my cum in her blouse as she moaned along with me. Mom got up and kissed me on the cheek. "This should have never happened. Now you go to bed and we'll talk about this tomorrow. I love you honey. And know that I have no regrets". "Mom, this was amazing", I stammered. "Shush," She placed her finger over my mouth, "Tomorrow. Let's sleep on it for now". She walked away and started up the stairs. Half way up she looked over her shoulder. With a sheepish smile she said "I enjoyed it too, honey." She then continued her climb. She rubbed her thong framed red bottom with her hand. I couldn't sleep. I paced the small floor space of my room, mulling over what had happened. I wanted to talk to her, to see her, to feel her. I was hard again, the memory of what happened teased me to no end. After about an hour that seemed like a millennium, I padded down the hall towards mom's room. I listened at the door, nothing. How I wanted to knock, to just barge in, crawl into bed with her. Something about the way she said goodnight, told me that would not be the right thing to do. Go figure, a nineteen-year-old who listened to something other than his prick. Back in my room however, my prick demanded relief and I furiously complied a couple more times before I was able to fall into fitful sleep. Part2 I awoke mid morning to a quiet house. It was Saturday both our day off. There was no note from mom as to her plans for the day. I tried to occupy my self as best as I could as the day dragged on. I thought of countless scenarios and what I would tell her. I had to convey to her how much I wanted her. In a million ways I justified my incestuous desires. I hoped to no end that she would want me too. I tried to restrain myself from jerking off. Hell, I knew that my sexual stamina had limits. I was hoping that I would get another turn with her. I played my bass. I surfed the net, no porn. I went running, dodging puddles from last night's storm. Endlessly and compulsively, I rehearsed what I was going to say to her. Nothing sounded right in my churning mind. The day dragged on and on. I took a cool shower. It didn't help. I always hated cold ones. After drying myself I wore some lounge pants and a tank top. I went downstairs. In the kitchen I grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. Her voice startled me. I spun to see her standing in the door-way. "I don't suppose we can just pretend that nothing happened last night." She said softly with averted eyes. "Mom, I…". I stammered. Damn it, nothing intelligent came out. That was not how I rehearsed what I wanted to say. Then again, what could have I possibly or even plausibly said. If this were one of those incest stories I'd read, the son would just forcibly tear her clothes off, spank and humiliate his mom before fucking her. While that image was quite sexy, I was not about to force myself on her. It just wasn't who I was. "Russ, please sit down we must talk." She motioned me to the kitchen table. We both sat opposite each other. She rested her chin in both her hands. Her elbows were on the table. With a sigh she began. "First I would like you to know that I am fully responsible for what happened last night…" "Mom, hold on a minute…" I wanted to protest. I wanted to let her know that it was all right. "Hush, please honey" She reached across the table and put a finger on lip, "I've thought long and hard about what I am going to say. So please just let me go on without interruption "As I said what happened was all my doing. I am responsible. So I just hope that what happened has not offended you and scared you or creeped you out. And if it has made you feel bad in any way I sincerely apologize. I'll do anything to make amends." Again, I took a deep breath mustering the effort tell her its ok. She sensed my intent and stayed me with a gentle pat on my arm. "Russ, you and your sister are all I have. We are all we have. I don't want anything to get in the way of that. We have been through so much. And you have been a rock for the both of us. Please I don't want to ruin that. I love you and respect you so much. Also I beg you to be completely honest with me as you always have been and I'll do the same." She placed both hands on my hands. She bit her lip and looked at me with an expression that I understood to say, 'Well?' "Ok mom, here goes," Now it was my turn to take a deep breath, "There is nothing to apologize for. I can't imagine that our mutual love and respect will ever change. Not for this or anything. I will always be there for you. So please whatever you do, don't feel bad. "Besides, mom, it's not like you forced me," I chuckled triumphantly at the memory, "I mean I could have stopped it at anytime". "Don't bullshit me Russ," She said with a hint of smile, "I know how guys think and nineteen year old guys at that. You could not have stopped that any more than you could have stopped the sun rising this morning." "Ok you've got a point there. But you still don't need to apologize ok"? "Against my better judgment I am inclined to believe you Russ." She smiled briefly, before her brow furrowed, "God I was so vulnerable and weak. Do you feel what we did was wrong"? "Aw come on mom!" I cried out, "Its only wrong if you beat your self up about it. It did me no damage. I still love you like I always have. And besides if you want honesty, well I enjoyed it. In fact if I get the chance…" "Russ, it was very clear you enjoyed it," She smiled fondly, interrupting me, "I meant what I said last night I enjoyed it too. I want you understand where I'm coming form, how I let this happen. Just listen, please. "Though I've had several lovers over the past couple of decades or so, only two have been totally fulfilling sexually. Those two have been the two men I've stayed with the longest. Dan was one of them. Looking back at the first several years he was a good choice. But something happened to him later, its like he changed or got bored, greedy. Who knows? What a sonofabitch! "The first one, hmm, well he moved me the most. He died and broke my heart. He was my first true love. And that's a story for another time. I will tell you this, I'm not talking about your father, sorry to say. "What they had in common was how we clicked together sexually. I'm not sure that I should be telling you this at all. But I don't think that telling is anymore drastic than what happened last night. I do want you to understand ok?" "Mom, its fine," I said in soothing voice, my curiosity getting the best of me, "I want to hear about this". "You see they were both into spanking. And sometimes they liked being somewhat forceful. Don't get me wrong, I am not into severe pain, humiliation or abuse. They knew how to use just the right amount of force to make it edgy. We were so uninhibited and obscene. And unlike some of my other failed relationships, these guys could also be gentle and passionate lovers. Though sometimes the balance of power seemed to tip in their direction in bed, they knew how to read me and fulfill my needs. It just turned me on so much when they gently asserted themselves. Yet, they treated me as an equal and true partner in and out of bed. It is a rare man that can be that versatile". She gently stroked my forearms across the table. She continued, "So last night Russ. I was feeling so vulnerable and tired. When you and I argued it escalated. It's that notorious O'Hern temper that we both have. But then, I don't know, something happened. I mean I wasn't drunk. You just reminded me of my first love, so much it practically hurt. I could somehow see him in the way you acted, in the way you looked at me" "You know what we did last night is considered wrong by many people?" "Mom, I don't think that spanking is wrong if both parties agree to it." "What we did last night is INCEST Russ! Not some hot story off the Internet. The real thing". "What we did last night was incredible mom. It felt awesome, beyond words". "I know honey, I enjoyed it as well." She said softly before her tone changed, "But what we did is considered wrong. No matter what happens you can't tell a soul, not your sister, your best friend, no one". "Mom, you should already know I wouldn't". "Russ, what happened last night felt very loving to me. Do you understand what I am saying?" A single tear streaked down her cheek. "Mom, I still love you so much. I always have and always will. You know that don't you?" I held her hands. "No matter what, promise me we won't lose that." She squeezed my hands. "I would be able to stand it if we ever lost it mom. I'll always love you". Mom stood up and released my hand with a final squeeze. "Russell baby, I am glad we had this talk. I am so relieved that we see things eye to eye. If you ever want anything from me, all you have to do is take it. Remember, I can't resist my man when he is forceful. Anything honey and anytime…" With a seductive smirk and throaty chuckle she turned and walked down the hall. The swaying of her hips mesmerized me. It took a few seconds for it to register. She actually offered herself to me. The one thing I had been obsessing about all of last night was offered to me! Our talk though, had brought me back to earth. I realized a higher level of purpose and responsibility about my lust. And I recognized that my fantasies held a deeper meaning. Like a caterpillar changing into a butterfly, mom had transformed into a sexual and spiritual being. I just wanted to commune with her. I caught up to her half way down the hall. My mind must have been racing at light speed, as she wasn't that far away. She turned to me as I embraced her. Our mouths locked and our tongues danced furiously with each other. We stood there kissing and groping each other. Her back was pressed against the wall. Our breath was frantic and hungry. It seemed like an eternity, a wonderful visit to nirvana. I kissed her neck, nibbling on her soft flesh. She moaned passionately as I fondled her breasts. She wore a crew neck cotton shirt. I could not feel a bra. The more I squeezed the more passionate her moans became. "Mom I want you so bad," I whispered kissing her ear. "Then take me baby," She exhaled. She squeezed my stiff member, "Mmm, hard." I put my lips on hers wanting to kiss her. As my tongue probed for hers she bit down on my lip. At first it felt pleasant almost exciting. Then it began to sting. I pulled away. I tried again. And again she bit my lips. This time I was afraid she might have drawn blood. The skin was definitely broken. "Ouch," I pulled my mouth back. "How bad do you want me, Russ?" She hissed, "Take me, take me!" I tried to pull her skirt down and ended up ripping it off her. Mom's breathing and her moans told me I was on the right track. Reaching behind her I fumbled a bit before I was able to snake my hand through the strap of her thong. She renewed her struggle as I ripped them off. I thought they my have been light blue. I did not care about their color. I threw back the taters of her skirt and panties. I managed to slap her ass a couple of times. She yelped, moaning. "Is this what you want mother?" It came out as a growl. "Yes baby, yes," She pleaded, "Take me Russ. Take me hard". I released my cock. I picked her up by upper thighs pinning her back to the wall. My hands cupped the globes of her ass. I was amazed how easy I was able to bury cock completely into her pussy. She was wet and wonderfully snug. Gradually building up momentum I thrust into her. I kneaded her ass. I was fucking my own mother and I was delirious with lust. Our thighs collided with sucking sounds. "OH, Russ, fuck me baby, fuck me hard." She screamed, "Cum with me, now please cum". I was already thrusting furiously. It did not take me long to feel that momentary weakness in my legs, the skip of heart's beat that preceded a mind blowing orgasm. "Oh shit mom. I'm cumming…right…now". "Russell-l, ba-by-y, I can feel you cuming inside me, this is incredible!" I just held her up against the wall. Her body was limp but she held on tight with her arms wrapped around my neck. Our staccato breathing echoed in the hall. Slowly my mind came back to the present. I opened my eyes to see my mom beautiful green eyes smiling back at me. We kissed slowly and passionately. Slowly she got down. With her eyes locked onto mine, mom removed her shirt. She looked spectacular, naked. Her breasts were medium sized and pendulous. Her nipples were still hard. She had a trimmed bush that exposed her smoothly shaved lips. "You are so beautiful mom". "Russ, I'm nude before you. Naked in front of my own son," She smiled, "Now its your turn honey". It didn't take long to take my shirt off and step out my lounge pants. My penis however, was coming back to life. Mom noticed it. With an exaggerated flourish she curtsied before it. "Thank you kind sir for your most timely and kind compliment". She giggled, "I hear by declare the beginning of naked day. No clothes allowed for the next twenty four hours". We embraced and kissed again. "Mom, lets go upstairs, we have so much more to do and we have less than twenty four naked hours to do it in". I followed her upstairs, leering at her nude form. My cock grew harder with every rung I climbed. Mom's bed was spacious. We cuddled and kissed. We explored each other's bodies with our hands, our mouths and just by pressing our flesh into each other. She smelled wonderful and tasted better. Her attention to my body sent shivers through my soul. I hoped that my touch and my kisses were doing the same for her. We moved with each other, like an intricate tango that injected me with confidence that we were on a path of mutual bliss. I tasted her. Licked her shaved pussy lips. Tickling her clit with my tongue, she shuddered and squealed as she came. My face was drenched with her sweet juice. I was quite a turn-on to have eaten my own mom to climax. My turn was next. She stroked my cock. She pushed it between her tits. I came in her mouth as she lovingly licked and sucked me dry. I lost track of time. We stayed in her bedroom for most of the day. We talked, laughed, touched and kissed. She prepared some food mostly stuff you could eat with your fingers. In her room bathed in candlelight, sipping wine, we fed each other with care. "Russ, honey?" She head rested on my chest. Her arms cradled her head. I stroked her hair as we looked into each other's eyes, "Are you ok with this?" "It's perfectly fine your head is not that heavy and I can still breath" The playful sarcasm was obvious. "Come on silly you know what I mean. We spent a good part of the day naked, making love and fucking. Do you any problem with this? I am your mom, still." "Mom this is incredible and you know I feel this way. You are still my mom and I still love you." "Russ, this is not what typical mom's do with their sons." "Well too bad for them. I guess then we are lucky and special," I scrutinized her face to read her expression, "Are you ok with this mom?" "Hey, I'm still lying here naked with my own handsome son, aren't I?" she chuckled and nudged me with an elbow, "But you know what this is?" "Incest!" I interrupted, "It's just another word. It can mean a lot of things." "Hmm, incest, such an interesting word. It can be so many things...not like say the word murder or theft, those can be so final and clear. But incest, can be such a hot word, don't you think?" Namesake's Legacy "Yeah I know what you mean. It's like it's forbidden or something you know?" "Yes baby it can be such a naughty word!" She giggled and squirmed, "Do you think I'm naughty? Is your mommy naughty?" "Hmm, let me see. You made love to you own son. You let him fuck you. You sucked his cock. Now you're lying naked in bed with him." I was able to reach her bottom. Slap! "I'd say that is pretty naughty of you." "Russ, I am pretty naughty aren't I? What are you going to do?" Slap! "Get up mom and stick your ass up." I positioned her at the foot of the bed. She held onto the brass frame with both her hands. She was on her elbows and knees. Her ass jutted upward beautifully. I kissed her cheeks and massaged her buns and thighs. Without a warning, I slapped her shapely bottom. Slowly and rhythmically I increased the pace and intensity. Her mirror was across the room facing the bed. I could see her face and chest. Her tits bounced and jiggled with each blow. I could see myself kneeling behind her. We locked eyes. The look on her face could only be described as unmitigated lust. "Mother you have been bad, or naughty as you say." "Russ spank my ass, I need it I deserve this." "Tell me why I should do this." I demanded. Slap. "I've been naked with my son. And…" Slap. "I've made love to him. And…' Slap! "Ouch, I sucked his beautiful cock and tasted his cum" Slap! "I've fucked my son. He's my lover now. And…" Slap! "Ouch, and…its… INCEST!" SLAP! "YES! It's incest, and I love it" Slap, Slap SLAP! "I love it, every second of it I love it. Spank me hard Russ. Spank mommy's ass." Her ass was turning red. With my free hand I stroked her wet pussy. I brought her to another orgasm as I spanked her ass and finger fucked her. In the mirror her face contorted in climax. Her tits swayed with beat of her heaving chest. She collapsed on the bed and sighed as I gently rubbed her red cheeks. "Oh Russ, I loved that. It just gets me so hot". "Mom I love spanking your sweet ass". I kissed her ass cheeks, gently soothing her flesh with my tongue. "I'm glad you do. In a bit I'll take care you in a special way. Just let me recover." I licked my way down her crack. I felt her shiver at the sensation. She shuddered when my tongue moved by the area surrounding her anus. She moaned when I kissed her hole. "OH Russ, Now you're being quite naughty," She cooed, "Have you ever had anal sex?" "No mom, never". I admitted expectantly. "Would you like to baby?" "Hell yeah!" I said sounding rather adolescent. "Good baby," She exclaimed, "I love it in my ass. It's one of my favorite things. I would be thrilled to be your first. Now you have to get me ready with your fingers and some lube." She instructed me eagerly. Eventually, I worked my cock into her rear. She goaded me on until I was able to thrust in her rhythmically. My balls slapped her beautiful bottom. I was in heaven, again. "Mom your ass is so fucking tight. This feels so amazing." "Yes baby. Fuck my ass you beautiful motherfucker. Fuck mommy's ass hard!" We both came together, moaning and panting. "You know it was my daddy who used to spank me. After we lost my mom, we became lovers. I was about your age and it all started when I came home late one night "We were lovers for two fantastic years, until his untimely death. We really loved each other. He was the man that moved me the most. I still miss him and all the naughty things we used to do. It's really no surprise that you look and act so much like him. It's too bad you never got to know him. You would have loved your grandpa. Your grandpa Russell O'Hern was an elegant man. And you Russell O'Hern, so aptly named, are walking in is footsteps. You see I really am quite naughty, don't you forget it." Lying in bed together we hugged and kissed. Softly we murmured words of love and gratitude we genuinely felt for each other. Sleep overtook us.