22 comments/ 167779 views/ 96 favorites The Island of I Ch. 01 By: Ahabscribe Okay, here is the first of a three part story - previewed as Lovecraftian, although on reflection, I'm not sure I stayed completely true to that genre. It starts a little slow, but parts 2 & 3 should make up for the usual carnal carnage you've come to expect from me...lol. I am very keen on getting your comments, be they pro or con. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters therein are fictional, existing solely within the confines of my imagination (such that it is). Enjoy! * I cannot honestly say that the first time I set eyes on Isprey Island that I harbored feelings of dismay and horror, although loathing might have been a dominant emotion. I remember that it was green and verdant, a beacon of furious life in a dark, gray and very forbidding ocean. I remember seeing the house for the first time, rising up on the side of the dominant hillside like a great, white fortress. I remember that I had just turned eighteen and that I was eager, ravenous almost to get on with my life and frustrated that instead that I would be spending the summer before university with my parents in this isolated, primitive place. My father, Thomas Halloran, a professor of literature of rather infamous reputation, had taken a sabbatical from Miskatonic University -- no doubt to the relief of his students and many of his peers in order to do research on a relatively unknown author from early medieval England named William Isprey. My father's academic specialty had been Nordic bards, but near the time of my birth, he had come into possession of a Renaissance era treatise examining the writings of one William Isprey from the late 900s AD, an account of his adventures with a party of Viking adventurers who had established a colony on Isprey Island, some three hundred miles off the coast of Maine. Most experts had discounted the writings as fiction, an almost quaint tale of adventure and horror that invoked images of worshipping Dark Gods and questing for arcane power, My father, however, had become obsessed with the treatise and had spent most of my life searching for fragments of Isprey's work, particularly a piece my father called, "The Summoning." For years, Father had sought to gather the means to visit and do work on Isprey Island which had been associated with William Isprey since before the arrival of the Pilgrims in the early 1600s. The happiest I've ever seen my father is when he brought home from a research trip to Saint Petersburg, an ancient map marked with Nordic runes and Latin words and was purported to be a Viking sailing chart dated from the 1100s which clearly marked a tiny island off the coast of North America as Isprey's Island. Since the time of the arrival of the Puritans, various folk have dwelt on the island, albeit not for long, the island claimed and disinherited in turn by the English, the French, Massachusetts, and Maine. Individuals have built homes there, only to sell or abandon them. The last was a wealthy recluse who built a substantial Cape Cod house there in the late 1880s and which has been rented out time and time again after his suicide in 1913. Others have done archaeological research there, confirming that a group of Viking colonists had established a settlement, intermittently maintained between the years 900 -- 1100. Along with artifacts of a Viking outpost was evidence that some Native American groups had been on the island over the centuries with the findings suggesting that it had been a site of some religious significance. Now, my father hoped to make his contribution to the history of Isprey Island and perhaps find evidence that would lend credence to William Isprey and his work being more that fanciful fiction. On rare occasions, Father would share some of his work with Mother and me, but it held little interest for me -- Father's translations and suppositions making it sound like Isprey was merely a madman, seeking to call upon long forgotten ancient gods he referred to as the Old Ones to grant him power. I knew that in this summer of Father's research, my purpose was to simply be his slave laborer and that the many shovels and axes and other tools he had gathered and had loaded on our charter boat would be utilized by me to clear away brush or to dig for his proposed evidence. Father had offered vague hints that he was sure of the location of a site where Isprey had actually conducted his rituals and that once uncovered, it would allow him to offer up "incontrovertible" proof of his theories about William Isprey. When my father talked of such things, I knew that in his faraway stares he was seeing himself accepting the Nobel Prize for Literature or some such damn fool thing for all his years of sacrifice and ridicule. The truth was that it was actually Mother who had born the sacrifice and ridicule that others heaped on Father's ideas. Father never paid attention to the derision of others. It was Mother that suffered the pains that the sneers and isolation that the academic community inflicted. Father never paid attention to us either. For my entire life, his place in our lives was an almost constant vacuum as he closeted himself off in his office, pouring over old manuscripts or sequestered himself deep in the older vaults of Miskatonic's library, seeking amongst their immense collection for clues or answers to his obsession. Often, when he could find funding, he would be off doing research in Europe or the Middle East. Mother never complained, but always gave me a sad smile when I complained bitterly about being abandoned by Father, telling me in her always gentle way, "His work is important, John. He loves us in his way and provides for us...in his way and we must love him back as much as we can." Ah, that was my mother in a nutshell...gentle and loving and never complaining. From my earliest memories, she always seemed beautiful, sad and wan, her golden blonde hair framing her pale face, her skin like flawless porcelain. I remember even now glancing at her as we stood on the prow of the fishing trawler Father had chartered to transport us to Isprey's Island, her long, modest white dress flapping in the sea breeze, her hair streaming behind her in the bracing breeze, a barely hinted expression of dismay on her face as she studied the verdant isle growing larger before us. Mother noticed me glancing at her and reached out to place her hand over mine, her soft fingers trembling slightly as she did so. "Perhaps we'll enjoy ourselves despite the isolation, John -- our chance to truly get away from it all." Her fingers squeezed my hand wrapped around the safety railing. "And it does give me a last opportunity to spend time with my only child before he ventures off into the world and makes his own mark." She smiled at me lovingly as she always had, the love that was evident in her face tainted by the always lingering sadness. I tried to smile bravely back and to be encouraging. Realizing it was lame even as I said it, I replied, "I will come home to visit, Mother...as often as I can!" Mother smiled at me, her eyes growing glassy with tears as she knew that my words were a lie. I hoped to put the gloomy, dark world of my father and Meskatonic University behind me forever. In my clothes chest rested my acceptance letter to Stanford and I already knew that once I was in the embrace of California, I would never return. As we approached the dock, a somewhat disturbing odor alerted me to the nearness of our ship's captain, Horace Waltern, a scruffy, pot-bellied old salt who smelled of cheap wine and sardines at all times. Father had charted his boat, "The Vulgar Harpy," to carry us out to the Island...a journey of nearly two days. In the next three months, he was to be our only contact with the outside world, bringing in fresh food and supplies every three weeks. "Just ye look at her...never seen such a green place in this bitch of an ocean before...'taint natural." He spoke the words into my ear, making me nauseous with his foul alcohol and fish breath. Even before I turned however, I knew that his eyes would be roaming lasciviously over my mother. He had lingered near her whenever his duties could spare him...even now as we approached the simple dock of the island, he had left the navigation of his boat to his first mate, a sullen Indian who rarely spoke. I suppose it was only natural that men would look at my mother so. Despite being her son, I recognized that Mother was a beautiful woman, tall and very bountifully blessed as it were with what father had once laughingly called an "hour-glass" figure. Mother ignored his rude stares and said, "It does seem odd, but Thomas tells me that that the island's lush foliage is due to the Gulf Stream and that most years, it flows around the island, its warmth making it green and ripe much as it does England across the sea." Captain Waltern licked his lips as he stared at the swell of Mother's breasts, barely hinted at her mostly buttoned up dress. "Maybe, ma'am, but it's a wrong place...unnatural and I'll keep you in my prayers every night." I snorted in derision, knowing that if the captain thought of my mother at night, it would not be in prayer that he would be engaged. His vulgarity made me ache to simply push him into the freezing waters of the Atlantic for thinking such lewd things about my mother. He turned to glare at me, but before he could say anything, Father strode up, already looking impatient and said, "Captain Waltern -- I would appreciate you expediting the transfer of our cargo to the docks as soon as possible. My time on the island will be limited and there is not be a moment to waste." Father was a formidable looking man, years of reading in dimly lit libraries at faintly scribbled works had left him with a hostile squint that combined with his stocky frame made him look like a brawler in a common tavern. The captain glared at my father for a moment, irritated to be ordered about so, but then nodded and said, "We'll see to it." He gave Mother one last leering glance and stomped away, hollering at his deck hands to see to our gear. As the engines ceased their roar, the first mate brought us deftly up to the dock where to my surprise a man and woman stood waiting. The man was young and I would have guessed him to be my age or maybe a bit older -- his hair black and curly, a lean wiry frame clothed in a sleeveless T-shirt and faded and frayed workpants. He had one arm wrapped possessively around the woman's shoulders and as I walked down the gangplank, leading Mother by the hand, I could see the woman was much older than the young man -- her long wiry black hair laced with gray and pulled back tightly into a bun with a gleaming silver needle stabbed into it to hold it in place. She wore a modest servant's dress -- an apron wrapped around her waist. The male in me appreciated her obvious health and solid and womanly appearance. Her legs were thick, but shapely below the hem of her dress, feet in sturdy work shoes while the bodice of her dress swelled from her completely covered but obviously huge breasts. Her skin, like the young man's was of an olive cast, but I was unable to ascertain their ethnicity. Her face was wide and expressive, an anxious smile etched there as she watched Mother and Father and myself approach. Mayhap she wasn't a beauty as reckoned by modern standards, but there was an aura of loveliness about her and a frank and raw sexuality that reminded me of the paintings of Rueben that hung in the art gallery at Meskatonic University. "Mister Halloran, we've been expecting you," she said with more than a hint of an accent in her voice which sounded pleased and happy, yet nervous. "Antonia...and young Hector, isn't it? You've grown, lad." Father extended his hand and shook the young man's firmly, then leaned in and kissed the woman on the cheek. "Everything is ready at the house?" She nodded and said, "Of course, Mister Halloran. You will love it -- it is a grand place. She turned her gaze to me and my mother, waiting several seconds before my father remembered to introduce us. "Of course...my apologies, dear," he said gruffly to Mother. "Carmen, may I present Antonia Grabelia and her son Hector. She will be our housekeeper during our stay and Hector will work the grounds and be a jack of all trades. Antonia, this is my wife Carmen and our son John." I took Antonia's hand, a bit startled at the great warmth there, but then distracted and amused as she did an odd little curtsey. "Ma'am," I said simply. Then I shook her son's hand, both of us shaking firmly and taking measure of each other as we made eye contact. He was strong, but I held up my end. We both smiled, finding no fault in each other and nodded in greeting. "John, I pray you and Hector get along -- I expect to have you both working hard to clear my site. I nodded and said, "Of course, sir." I wasn't aware that there was any sarcasm in my voice, but saw Hector catch my gaze, roll his eyes sympathetically and then nod. I felt certain then that we would be friends and that like me, he thought my father to be a pompous ass. Antonia brushed past me, triggering a bit of a flush as the edge of her large bosom brushed my arm as she moved to take Mother's hands, her breasts jiggling a bit as she reached up on tiptoe and planted kisses on first one cheek and then another. My mother's faced flushed with red at the action, unused as she was to close contact. Back at the University, Mother rarely kept company with other faculty wives, pursuing her own solitary interests of painting and working in her garden. "I'm very pleased to finally meet you," murmured Mother. "Thomas has talked so much about you from his trips to Ankara and Bucharest." Antonia smiled proudly and said, "It has always been a pleasure to serve your husband. He has been very generous to Hector and myself. We were thrilled to receive his request to work for him here in America." Mother nodded, an odd, but still sad smile on her face, "Well, close to America at the very least. I hope we can show you the sights of New England after Thomas completes his research here. New England is so lovely in the fall." Antonia's smile grew larger and she said, "That would be so wonderful, Missus Halloran." She slipped an arm around Mother's waist and steered her up the dock towards the house. "Come, let us get you settled in. I'm sure after staying on that...degenerate's boat for nearly two days, a hot bath is in order." Mother laughed, her voice a crystalline joy to hear -- laughter never coming to her easily, as she allowed the other woman to guide her along off the water and up a sandy path that led towards the house on the hillside. One of the boat's deckhands walked up with a heavy box and handed it to me. As I grunted under the weight, quickly adjusting it so it wouldn't slide from my grasp, he snapped, "Make yourself useful, boy." I glanced at Hector who was glaring at the deck hand until another handed him an equally heavy box and Father said, "Be lively, lads. Carry that lot up to the house and come back for the rest." We both turned and struggled for the sandy path, not making a sound until we were well out of range of Father at which point, Hector grinned at me and said, "I imagine all things being equal, you'd rather be in California right now." I rolled my eyes and replied, "California, Florida, even Hell's looking good right now." # Mother and I quickly discovered we were no longer living in the 20th Century...one might surmise that we'd barely escaped the 19th Century. The house was massive and impressive, constructed by artisans -- every room an architectural delight with exquisite woodwork and moldings, hardwood floors covered by authentic Turkish rugs. The house had electricity, supplied by a fuel oil fed generator that was generally turned off during the day, but lacked a phone or a two-way radio. The stove and water heater were powered by a huge tank of natural gas. A large, antiquated radio sometimes caught a signal from somewhere in Nova Scotia from a station that broadcast mostly in French and favored what I assumed to be polka music. Still there were some positive aspects of the house. My bedroom alone seemed to be larger than the apartment we'd lived my entire life in. There were at least twenty rooms in the house and every day or two, I seemed to discover another nook or cranny -- once even a "secret passageway" that led from the upstairs hallway down to the "servants quarters" below. We largely confined ourselves to the upstairs rooms while Antonia and Hector took rooms below -- rooms clearly built as servants' quarters in another day and age. Mother offered them both rooms above, feeling that it was ridiculous to treat them in such a way, but Antonia steadfastly refused and was supported by Father who lectured Mother on maintaining appropriate societal lines. This was emphasized at the evening meal as Antonia refused to allow herself or Hector to sit down and dine with us. Like Mother, I felt awkward being served dinner in the dining room by someone who would then eat her own meal in the more plain kitchen not ten feet away. Lunch and breakfast were more sociable, but were more or less rushed affairs to provide fuel for Hector's and my arduous labors outside. To our surprise and much to my dismay, behind the house was a large swimming pool, long fallen into disrepair -- extended neglect making it a green slimy pool of algae choked water in which nothing could swim except for the abundance of frogs that would lull us all to sleep at night with their steady and monotonous croaking. Even Mother who as far as I knew had never ventured into the ocean or wore a bathing suit seemed disappointed by the waste of such a potential source of recreation. We all quickly settled into defined routines. Father turned another upstairs bedroom into his office where he sorted through crates of books and manuscripts and notes that all revolved around his quest to uncover the secrets of William Isprey. When he wasn't prowling about the island, searching for signs and clues, he would isolate himself in his office, quickly taking to sleeping there on a metal cot that Hector and I brought down from the attic -- an action that seemed to deepen the sadness that enveloped my mother. With Antonia firmly and effectively running the household chores, Mother's routine was a more sedate one. She would take endless walks around the island in search of scenes to paint or she would sit on the balcony that faced the morning sun and practice her art there or would wander the house, carrying a book, seeming sad and lost as she sought a place to read in quiet. I knew that she was carrying new disappointment in her heart. That Father all but ignored us with his work was nothing new, but I sensed shattered hopes that here in the middle of nowhere amongst only three other people, that he would have paid her a little more attention. Still, she never complained, going about her day often only speaking to me or Antonia...painting or reading or gazing out at the dark and foreboding Atlantic as it never ceased throwing its waves against us. My life quickly seemed to winnow down to waking up to one of Antonia's huge breakfasts which gave me the fuel to spend the day clearing designated pieces of the estate that had become overgrown with brush and small trees. Hector and I would spend day after day, digging, cutting and dragging off the brush. It was mindless work and we spent hours talking about girls and sports and sports and girls, pausing every so often in surprise as we began to uncover sheets of cut stone laid out in what appeared to be a circular pattern in a thicket of thorny brush to the north of the house. Each new discovery sent Father into an ecstatic state I'd never witnessed in him before and each one usually resulted in a modification of his instructions on where to clear the brush off next. To my own surprise, the pattern soon became clear to me and Hector and we began anticipating Father's orders, much to his surprise and our secret amusement. The Island of I Ch. 01 At five o'clock in the afternoon, Hector and I were released from our tasks and we usually cooled down with a quick dip in the ocean before supper. After that, we went our separate ways, Hector taking supper with his mother and then spending the rest of the day with her in their quarters although sometimes I spied them walking hand in hand into the woods on one of the footpaths. My own evenings were generally spent in the company of Mother, both of us reading or playing gin or chess or Mother painting as we conversed -- on rare occasions being joined by Father, he making appearances usually because he had some new insight into his work or had made a new discovery about dreary old William Isprey. Our one respite from the dreary work was that at Mother's insistence, at noon on Saturday's we could lay our burden down and until Monday morning, Hector and I were free to pursue our own interests which included fishing from the beach, swimming and eventually plotting to resurrect the swimming pool. In the outbuildings near the dock, I had discovered what I believed was the machinery that would pump fresh water into the pool as well as the filtration system that would keep in clean....there were several containers of chemicals for the pool and chemistry was something I was very good at while Hector was very adept at machinery. With Father's exasperated blessing, we spent many of our spare hours trying to clean the old pool, draining it bucket by bucket and mopping and scrubbing the interior in a near vain effort to bring it back to life. We also studied and worked to put the primitive machinery back into good working order, progressing slowly by trial and error. Life as I have said, settled into routine, not exciting, but not unbearable either, but gradually, almost imperceptibly, things begin to go awry. In recalling it now, I know now the moment things began to change. It was the middle of our third week, nearing lunchtime and Hector and I had taken a break, sitting on newly uncovered stone slabs, odd runic symbols etched into them, barely legible due to their suspected ancient age. Hector had passed me the water jug and as I gulped down the cool, spring water, I noticed him squinting slightly back towards the house. I followed his gaze to see Mother standing on the veranda outside her bedroom, gazing out to sea. The sun overhead shone down on her creating a dark outline of her body underneath her long white dress billowing in the never ceasing breeze. I handed the jug back to Hector and he smiled at me, hoisting the vessel as if in a toast. "Your mother, John...she is a lovely woman." I frowned, not because of the compliment, but because in his eyes I recognized the same base lust I remembered in Captain Waltern's gaze. I nodded and replied curtly, "Yes, she is." Hector smiled and studied my scowling face. "Very lovely." He paused and his smile evolved into a broad grin. "Have you ever seen her naked, John?" His rude question caught me unawares and I was several seconds processing his words. Finally, mustering a tone of outrage, I said, "I beg your pardon?" Hector held up his hands in a mocking display of defensiveness. "I mean no disrespect. Your mother is a beautiful woman and I appreciate beauty above all things..." He laughed and added, "Especially a naked, beautiful woman. I would think that to see her naked would be a thrilling and wondrous sight!" He dropped one hand to his crotch and lewdly groped it. "An inspiring sight!" I wanted to be offended, but inside me was that slight thrill one gets when one encounters something evil...something wrong, but still doesn't turn away. I held my hand out for the water jug, saying as I did so, "That's my mother you are talking about!" I drank more water, feeling both excited and guilty by his words. I was sure I should've been angry with Hector, but I wasn't. I sat the jug down and stared hard at him and why I said what I did next, I do not know. "Hector, your mother is a lovely woman too." Hector grinned broadly and nodded, "Yes, Mama is beautiful." His face beamed with undisguised pride. I couldn't help but ask, "Have you ever seen your mother naked, Hector?" My friend and coworker laughed and slapped his thighs and then surprised me by bringing fingers to his lips and making a sort of kissing gesture. "Absolutely, John! I have seen Mama's naked body many times...she is magnificent. Mama is a man's woman, my friend...so lush and ripe that any real man would weep with joy at the sight of her nakedness and die a happy man for having known her body!" He winked at me and laughed, again making that kissing gesture with his fingers and lips. I was slack-jawed with astonishment. "My god, man...that's your mother you're talking about!" Hector snorted in contempt. "Am I not a man that my body shouldn't respond to such beauty?" He shook a scolding finger at me. "When you look at your mother, do you not feel a man's desires welling up inside you?" I felt myself blushing and said hastily back, "Absolutely not. Good God, Hector, that's my mother!" Hector shook his head at me in disbelief and replied, "Then you, my friend, are a liar or you are missing...what is the Spanish call it? You are missing your cojones!" He again groped his crotch for emphasis. I started to snap back an answer I am sure I would have regretted, but Father emerged from the wood and yelled for us to get back to work. Under Hector's bemused stare, we picked up our shovels and axes and trudged towards our next target of wild undergrowth. Hector glanced back at my mother who was still standing on the veranda and said to me softly before we resumed our labor, "Take a long look at your mother tonight, John. Look upon her as a man and tell me you feel nothing." I felt my face blush as I gave him a quick nod and plunged into my work with the silence of a monk, saying virtually nothing for the remainder of the day. After dinner, at which I could scarcely look at my mother or speak to her as Antonia brought in course after course for our meal, Mother seemed a little disconcerted at my silence which because my father was busy studying a moth-eaten, leather bound manuscript between bites of his food and as usual ignored us, left us with an almost unnerving quietness. After dinner was over, I took a stroll around the house and was preparing to return to the kitchen when I espied Antonia standing out near the pool, looking down into as if she were assessing our meager process of restoring it. "Missus Antonia, is everything alright?" I called out. She turned quickly, the hem of her dress rising as she did so, revealing shapely calves with prettily dimpled knees. I became suddenly aware that she had changed out of her housekeeper's uniform and was now in a simple white sundress -- spaghettis straps over her shoulders looking strained under the challenge of retaining her large breasts from doing more than overflowing the scooped neck bodice. In the waning light of the setting sun, the darker skin of her breasts contrasted perfectly with her dress and I remembered her son's words, "Mama is a man's woman, my friend...so lush and ripe that any real man would weep with joy at the sight of her nakedness and die a happy man for having known her body!" Certainly I felt myself respond to her frank sensual beauty as my penis began to swell beneath my jeans. "Oh, John," she said, smiling happily at me. "I am fine, young master. It is going to be a beautiful evening, is it not? I'm waiting for Hector...he is taking me for a walk so that we might enjoy the twilight together." "That's...that's nice, Missus Antonia. It is a lovely night." She smiled at me again, folding her arms below her immense bosom, as if to draw attention to them and then she glanced upwards towards the second floor of the house. I followed her gaze and saw a light go on in my parents' bedroom. "Your mother enjoys her walks too, especially along the beach, I notice." She grinned knowingly at me and said, "She might like some company sometimes too, no?" Her grin faded and she said, "I know your mother gets lonely and your father gets...lost in his work." She shrugged and then smiled at me again, her smile getting broader and more unreadable as the screen door to the kitchen slammed. "Ah, my young man comes...finally. Good night, John." I nodded to her and replied, "Good night, Missus Antonia." I turned and headed towards the kitchen steps, Hector pausing as he passed me, stopping me for a moment as he put his hand on my arm. "Don't forget, John. Tonight, look upon your mother as a man." He smiled and patted my back as he moved to join his mother. "We will talk more tomorrow." I watched him jog towards his mother and then taking her by the hand leading her off past the pool and onto one of the footpaths that led into the woods. The way they moved together, laughing and joking as mother looked happily up at son made me feel as if I was peeking on two people sharing something private and intimate and I confess that it both disturbed me and aroused me. I returned to the house feeling confused and anxious. Despite Antonia's and Hector's words, I was unable to break the silence that lingered in the air between Mother and me. We settled into the upstairs parlor, both of us reading...me in an overstuffed, leather wingback chair, one leg draped carelessly over an arm and Mother curled up on the matching leather sofa. She was engrossed in what she called a "bodice ripper" with a well muscled, bare-chested man taking a young woman into his arms, her breasts threatening to spill from her torn blouse...books that always drew sneers of contempt from Father, but which Mother seemed to adore. I was working my way through a boxed collection of old Mickey Spillane paperbacks I had discovered in the upstairs library, amused by the antics of the booze-swilling, two fisted detective. In truth, the covers of those paperbacks were as crude as those that Mother was reading. As the evening deepened, I looked up from my novel to find Mother asleep, her chin dipped down and her eyes closed, her book closed with one finger marking her place. "Look upon your mother as a man," Hector's voice said to me out of the air, making me jump and then laugh. My own imagination had run away from me, making me think that my friend had been standing there beside me. Then the imagined words sank in and I slowly turned my gaze and looked at my mother, trying to look past the sweet, patient loving mother that had been the center of my life and see her as simply a beautiful woman. I confess that I failed...at least somewhat. I was unable to separate my loving mother from what I knew instinctively was a lovely female. In truth, knowing that she was my mother only seemed to enhance her beauty...her sexuality and in the end, enhanced my suddenly and decisively male response. Mother had let her hair down from where she had pinned it up earlier, letting it fall in golden cascades below her shoulders, down her back and down her front, the very tips of her blonde locks serving to draw my attention to where more than a hint of cleavage was visible, the porcelain like swells of her breasts slowly moving with her breathing. She was still wearing the dress Hector and I had seen her in earlier and the upper portion seemed to cling to her like a second skin, leaving no doubt as to the shape and heft of her breasts. Mother sighed in her sleep and turned slightly, allowing me to see her gorgeous figure in profile and allowing her skirt to fall away and reveal a long and shapely leg from her pretty toes all the way to her upper thigh...creamy, flawless flesh that made me desire to touch it...to kiss it as I lifted the dress away from her body... I blinked in surprise at such lewd thoughts, then more in surprise as I felt my erection throb angrily in my pants. I was aroused...aroused by my mother! I felt giddy as if I'd been on a carnival ride, yet panicked and horrified that I could think this way about my mother...then stupefied that it had taken me this long to realize how much a woman my mother was...Hector's words haunted me again..."Mother was "a man's woman!" Lastly, I felt anger as it dawned on me that my father in addition to being a pompous ass was also a damned fool, ignoring my mother as he did. I realized more than ever before, Mother was like a lovely flower, left to wither and die from neglect, her beauty never to be appreciated and enjoyed and rewarded for bringing such loveliness into the world. I was nearly overwhelmed with the desire to take her in my arms and hold her and hug her and kiss her as she deserved, loving her as she should be loved, taking her and laying her down and making... I gasped in horror as my erection throbbed with pleasure at the thought of making love to the woman who had brought me into the world. I gasped aloud, trembling for several seconds, trying to think of other things to push such awful thoughts away. I found myself on my feet, trembling as I heard a clock somewhere in the house chime solemnly, announcing to one and all that it was nearly midnight. Somewhere down the hall, Father was lost in his studies and I shook my head ruefully. I squelched down my lust and crossed the room to stand over Mother. She looked so lovely and from my height, I had an even better view of her cleavage and I confess I took a long, lingering look at them before I reached down and touched her hand. "Mother, it's growing late," I whispered. Mother stirred at my touch, her hand rolling over mine and then slowly sliding up my arm, her fingers like downy feathers as they trailed up my arm while she sighed, "Darling." Then Mother opened her beautiful blue eyes, passion roiling in her glazed gaze before she seemed to bring herself into focus and quickly drew her hand back. "John? What...what is it?" I held out my hand. "It's late, Mother, time for bed. Please allow me to escort you." Mother's eyes became clearer and her puzzled frown slipped into a small smile. "I must've fallen asleep. Yes, well past our bedtime isn't it?" She took my hand and used it to lever herself to her feet. With her arm through mine, we slowly strolled out of the parlor and down the long haul, almost pausing at Father's office door while Mother looked forlornly at it, then shaking her head slowly, resumed our journey to her door. Mother opened the door and turned and looked up at me, her sad, loving smile returned. I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "Goodnight, Mother. Sleep well -- have wonderful dreams." Mother blushed with some small pleasure and replied, "Thank you, son." She paused and looked up at me, a curiously odd expression coming over her. "I'm...I'm sorry that you are trapped here this summer...a young man all alone on this island. I know it's difficult." I shrugged and said, "I'm fine, Mother and I'm not alone. Hector is a good companion and the work helps Father." Mother's expression grew odd yet amused and she shook her head. "That's not what I meant by being alone, son. Here you are -- a handsome young man and nary a pretty young girl to squire and court." She giggled uncharacteristically. "Of course, Anatonia is single." A quiver of something naughty and pleasurable coursed through my body, nearly making me shiver. I wondered if I was blushing, but bravely replied. "She's not my type, Mother...besides, my heart, as it has been since I was born, belongs to you, Mother." Mother did blush and looked away for a moment before smiling up at me again. "You are a good son, John Halloran," she whispered, standing up on tip-toe to kiss me, not on the cheek as she usually did, but on the corner of my mouth. Her smile as she gave me one last glance and said softly, "Good night," made me quiver with delight and my erection which had never fully gone away returned in full strength, aching with the need for release. Mother closed the door behind her and I staggered off to my bedroom, locking it behind me and once I'd stripped my clothes off, fell into bed naked, and began to furiously masturbate, not quite willing to believe that it was my own mother's image that I was pleasuring myself to. I groaned as my orgasm came quickly, my seed pouring forth as I saw my mother's face smiling lovingly at me, her lips, full and lush opening, telling me to do things to her...things that only a husband and wife should ever do. I fell asleep wrapped in the shrouds of my own shame and lust, my dreams a strange and misty place which I stumbled blindly through, pursuing the image of my mother which ran gaily from me, daring me to catch her and claim my prize. The next day was Saturday and the morning found Hector and myself hip deep in clearing thorny underbrush and we worked silently -- me with a sullen expression and Hector with a satisfied smile on his face as if while we carried out our near mindless labor, he was thinking about something much more pleasant. Finally, we paused for a break and as the day before as we passed the water jug back and forth, our eyes were drawn to the veranda outside my parents' bedroom where Mother, today in a splendid, bright blue wrap that left her shoulders bare and allowed occasional glimpses of her lovely legs in the billowing wind, stared out towards the sea. Even from a distance, there was something almost indefinably sensual about Mother's bare, pale shoulders...something that enhanced her beauty on a primal level. Finally, Hector broke the silence that hung between us. "I see today, my friend John, you look upon your mother with different eyes...a man's eyes." He leaned over and clapped me on the shoulders good-heartedly. "Shut up," I snapped back. "You are perverted." Hector chuckled and shook his head. "Ah, you Americans and your strange views...so prudish. There is nothing wrong with acknowledging that she who gave you birth is a fine, beautiful woman. There is no shame to admit that she arouses you." I shivered as I remembered moaning with pleasure as I had masturbated to images of my mother. Trying to deflect my own shame, I replied, "I suppose you get erections looking at your mother." My friend laughed and clapped me on the shoulder again. "Absolutely! My cock swells at the very thought of her...I would defy any man not to get hard if they saw her naked -- glorious in all her beauty." He winked at me. "Be watchful for the chance to see Mama naked...she is not ashamed and would not mind it." My jaw dropped open and I was amazed that he would say such a thing. I shook my head and said, "That's...that's so perverted, Hector, you should be ashamed." Hector's smiled faded somewhat, becoming sadder as if my words tired him rather than shamed him. "Ah, that's your misunderstanding of your own faith betraying you. Such a fine message of 'love conquering evil' your Jesus preached, but you wrap it all up in prudish judgments and close-minded hate. You declare the naked body and the act of making love as sinful...sinful! The very thing that is the heart of who and what we are...the very element of love that makes us strong, you would hide and be ashamed of." He took a drank of water and then spat it out on the ground in as close an example of his contempt as I had seen. He shook a finger at me and said, "Be honest with me, John Halloran. Having finally looked upon your mother as a man should look at a woman, do you love her more or less?" His question took me by surprise as did the answer that dwelled within my soul. I searched for something else to say, but in the end, in a hoarse voice, I grated, "I love Mother more." Hector clapped his hands together and raised them to the sky. "Gods be praised, he has seen the light." Hector slid over to kneel next to me and grasped my hand. "Congratulations, my friend. You have taken the first step to a greater truth...a truth that many men search their whole lives for and never find despite it being right in front of them the whole time." The Island of I Ch. 01 I let him shake my hand and then began to laugh as I began to get untangled from him, saying, "You, sir, are mad!" "Perhaps so, but far better to know the madness of love than to dwell in the cold, loneliness of the sane," he replied as he stood up. As we made out way back to the thorny brush, Hector looked aside at me and said, "Now, were you lucky enough to look with your new eyes upon your mother in her lovely nakedness?" "Good God, no!" I blurted out...the notion both shocking me and stirring up emotions of arousal that returned me to my lust of the night before. Hector winked at me and said before returning to our labors, "Ah...then the new love you feel for your mother is but a trickle before the dam breaks. Seize the opportunities as they present themselves, John and have faith...there are always opportunities." I felt my face blushing and said nothing as we began to cut and hack away at the undergrowth. Only as the noon hour approached did I summon the courage to say, "How did you manage to see your mother naked, Hector?" My friend paused and leaned on the shovel he'd been using to uproot a thorn bush. "Ah, well, I am fortunate. My mother and I...our people have never had the modesty that your people have. Our faith and traditions make little fuss over nudity." He paused and grinned before adding, "For which I am forever grateful. I honestly cannot recall the first time I saw Mama naked." He paused and wrinkled his brow before grinning again, "I do recall the first time I was moved as a man by Mama's lovely body." He gave a soft, happy sigh and continued. "We were living in Athens and I was lying on a divan reading and Mama had been in the bath and I suppose I had been too engrossed to hear her calling for a towel and so she strode by me, proud and lovely and naked as the day she was born, her skin wet and shiny, breasts bouncing so...so womanly and between her legs...a thick carpet of hair darker than even that on her head." Hector grabbed his crotch and made a stroking gesture. "I have been practically always erect since that time!" I scowled and replied, "You are absolutely sick. Next thing you'll tell me is you dream of making love to her" He made the lewd gesture with his hand again and said, "Dreams are what we all live for...the dream and the realization of said dream!" He grinned broadly at me and added, "You doubt what your ears hear, friend John. Be watchful and decide for yourself!" He winked at me and returned to our sweaty work, saying nothing more, but smiling at my obvious shock. I could barely focus on my work as my mind tried to sort through his words -- to separate truth and lies. Hector had all but stated that he had sex with his mother and while on the surface of it, I was nearly a hundred percent certain he was lying to me, I could not ignore the fact that the previous evening had ended with me lying in bed thinking evil, incestuous thoughts about my own mother. We said little as our work day ended with Antonia calling us to lunch, but his nasty insinuations continued to echo in my mind as his mother hurried around us, serving us our meal. My head felt strange, filled with some strange gas that made me dizzy and intensified my rapidly growing sexual thoughts. Hector's mother seemed more voluptuous than ever -- her modest housekeeper's outfit somehow enhancing her carnal nature. For the first time I really seemed to notice how her body seemed to quiver inside the uniform, barely contained by it. I also seemed to notice more than ever how close mother and son were, beginning with seemingly innocent kisses on each other's cheeks that seemed to linger while both seemed to press their bodies against each other. Then there were Antonia's little caresses across his shoulder or neck and the loving smiles that passed between them. Again, as it had been the previous evening, I felt as if I was watching something more intimate than simply a mother and son...I felt like I was watching lovers, their passions restrained because they had not the privacy to fully express themselves. It was both arousing and embarrassing. After lunch, Hector and I repaired to the defunct swimming pool, having managed to drain it of its fetid water and liberated its rather large amphibian population, laughing as many of the frogs thrown into the woods around us, returned to perch on the edges of the pool, seemingly to watch us work and croak their disapproval. We scrubbed and scrapped the algae and filth from the walls, becoming thoroughly filthy in the process. We worked nearly till dark, stopping only when Antonia appeared, looking a little tensed and said in a scolding tone, "You boys...you work too much. You need time to play and relax." When we looked up, I found myself almost able to see all the way up her housekeeper's dress. She tapped one foot impatiently. "Time enough for this later. Hector, there is a full moon tonight -- a lovely night for a...walk through the woods." Hector grinned up at his mother and passed me a sly wink. "Mama, that sounds lovely. I would love to...um, take a walk with you." He sat his scrubbing brush down and nodded before hurrying to the far side of the pool which sloped upwards until one could step easily onto the surrounding surface. "Allow me fifteen minutes, Mama, to get cleaned up." He hurried towards the kitchen door while his mother watched him with a mysterious smile, a finger toying with a strand of her dark hair. She noticed me still looking up at her and her smile broadened. "Hector is a good boy -- always wanting to please his mother. You should stop too, John. Get yourself cleaned up, spend time with your mother. It would please her." As she spoke, she shifted her legs, standing with them wider apart and I felt my jaw drop open in surprise as in the waning moments of daylight, I was able to see all the way up her stocky, but shapely legs to see a dark mat of dark hair, something wet or shiny glistening from within it. "You might find, young man, that pleasing one's mother can lead to being pleased oneself." She smiled again at me, a little coyly and perhaps a little lewdly as she allowed me a long look between her thighs before putting her free hand to her lips and blowing me a little kiss, strolled away. It was a few minutes before I had the presence of mind to put down my tools and leave, walking somewhat stupefied back into the house and into my bedroom. I stripped and showered, amazed that I was erect, my hand feeling fine as I soaped my penis up and stroked it, but somehow unable to take myself to orgasm, feeling as if it wasn't appropriate. I came out of my room dressed in clean slacks and a clean button down shirt to find Mother at the head of the stairs, looking stunning herself in a billowy red dress that clung to her waist and upper body tightly -- the bodice showing off her trim waist and her prominent bosom, ending in a halter strap that left her shoulders bare and tied behind her neck, the knot hidden by her blonde tresses that cascaded down her back. She was a little startled by my sudden appearance, but smiled and said, "Antonia has left us supper -- I asked her for something simple -- cheese and bread and some fruit. It's in our parlor. Please help yourself, son. I think I'll take a stroll on the beach." I nodded and started to turn away towards the parlor, but stopped, my face turning red at the nervousness in my voice as I said, "Mother, would you like some company? A walk in the moonlight sounds...lovely." Mother's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but her smile told me that she was delighted at my offer. "Are you sure, son? I imagine you have more interesting things to do." I hurried to her and offered her my arm. "I'm sure I don't, Mother. What could be better than to escort a beautiful woman along a moonlit beach?" Mother giggled and slipped her arm through mine and we went down the staircase together. I glanced back at the door of Father's study. "Should we let Father know?" I asked and immediately regretted it as the very mention of him cast a shadow over Mother's face. She sighed and shook her head. "Your father will never know we've gone. He is deep in his studies and you know how he is. The very idea of a romantic walk along a moonlit beach would simply puzzle him." I nodded and said, "Fair enough...Father's loss is my gain." I leaned over and kissed Mother on the cheek, making it her turn to blush. "I'm sorry I haven't asked you before, Mother. I know how lonely it is here for you...even more than for me. Consider me at your beck and call." Mother actually tittered at that, her laughter allowing me a glimpse of her as a young girl, happy and gay growing up along the Hudson. "I do rather like that, John. I will certainly take advantage of having a handsome young man at hand." She smiled at me and then put her free hand to her mouth. "My Lord, that sounded awful, the way I put it." I laughed and said, "Not at all, Mother. I am and always will be yours." Mother's blush deepened, almost matching the shade of red of her dress and neither of us spoke again until we were out of the house and strolling down the path towards the beach. Looking back, I thought I caught a flash of yellow from beyond the house at the edge of the woods...thinking I recognized the color as being from one of Antonia's dresses. I smiled at the thought of both Hector and I were squiring our mothers around...my thoughts faltering as I realized that perhaps Hector's and Antonia's evening might be radically different than ours. Dismissing such awful thoughts from my mind, I led Mother onto the beach, the path clearly visible as the moon hung huge and bright just above the horizon, giving everything a shadow illumination reminiscent of the early moments of dusk. We reached the beach and I kicked off my shoes to lie next to Mother's sandals and we proceeded barefoot across the cooling sands, away from the outbuildings and the dock. The beach was sandy and wide and we walked slowly along, looking at the moonlit waves as they rolled placidly in, pausing along the way to examine shells now and then, collecting a few that we put inside my shirt after I had doffed it. Mother seemed a little restive as we continued to walk, now glancing at me bare-chested from time to time. "Are you happy, John?" Mother finally asked, her voice uncertain. "Do you regret that we forced you to come along on this trip?" "No, I'm glad to have this time to spend with you, Mother and "we" didn't force me to come along...Father was very insistent." Mother didn't reply for a long moment and then tightening her grip on my arm, replied, "That's not quite how it was, son. I confess that I implored your father to bring you rather than some common worker. I wanted to have this last summer with you, especially once I knew he and I were coming to this desolate rock." She paused and looked up at me, her face anxious as if expecting me to burst into anger. "Then I am glad you insisted, Mother...for both our sakes. I have enjoyed our quiet evenings together and I am happier walking here with you than anything else I could be doing." Her anxiousness melted away, leaving a pleased smile and we resumed our stroll, not speaking for a while until I could no longer restrain myself and I asked, "Mother, are you happy?" She took a moment to answer, not looking at me as she replied, "I am happy at this moment." She tightened her grip on my arm. "Me too, Mother, but are you happy? Life with Father is a challenge in the best of times and it angers me to see him ignore you as he does now." We had paused again and I had turned towards her, my hands coming up to lightly grip her upper arms. "Are you happy, Mother?" She looked at me somewhat distraught, her face a struggle of emotions before she turned her face down and leaned into me, her hair brushing my bare shoulder. "There are things we have no control over, John. I love your father although I'm not sure he still loves me or even remembers the love we once shared." I felt something warm and wet against my chest and I suddenly realized that she was crying. "I try to make the best of things. I am happy to have you here with us...with me and when you are gone, I will make the best of what I have. Do not forget your mother...write me often, visit me when you can and I will be as happy as I can possibly be. I felt my arms go around my mother and I pulled her tight against me even as I felt her arms slip around my waist. For a long time, we stood there on the beach, not saying a word. For my part, while I felt sad for Mother's pain, I was discovering a new sensation, the sinfully delightful feel of my mother's body pressed tightly against mine. It was a sensation I could have endured for all time. Still, finally, I said in a husky voice. "I apologize, Mother. I did not mean to make you cry." Mother sniffled and raised her head. "Apologize for nothing. It does my heart so much good to know I have a son who cares for me." "And who intends to do better by her in the time we have." I gently brushed her cheeks clean of her tears, unable to stop myself from bringing my fingers to my lips to taste the salty remnants of her weeping. "I do love you, Mother, more than anything in the world." Mother smiled sadly up at me and replied, "I know, son. A mother always knows." She raised herself up, a little off balanced in the sand and in her bare feet, to kiss me on the corner of my mouth, but being off balanced, pressed her lips demurely against my own for an indescribable moment. Realizing that she had kissed me the way she had, Mother looked shyly away and said, "Let us continue," slipping her arm through mine again and guiding us down the beach again. Her kiss had electrified me, chaste though it had been. I had to restrain myself from looking down at my pants, knowing that there was a prominent bulge there and hoping that the brilliant moon would not betray my condition to my mother although it had been her sweet and unintentional actions that had spurred the growth of my penis. We had traveled far from the house, the beach now fronting the thick woods that covered most of the island. It was quiet for the most part -- the silence broken only by the soft sound of the waves kissing the shore and the occasional accompaniment of birds or small animals in the forest. The moon hung high in the sky now, its great light reflected back by the ocean which itself seemed to have been calmed by the great orb above. "So beautiful," murmured Mother, halting us to turn and enjoy the view. "Would you like to sit for awhile, Mother?" I said. I undid my shirt, setting the shells aside and unfurled the wrinkled cloth, laying it on the sand. I knelt down behind it and offered my mother my hand. She smiled and knelt down, moving her legs out in front of her and then as I sat down in the sand, leaning back against me, my legs spread out in a 'V' with Mother between them. Mother let out a loud and shuddering sigh as she relaxed against me, as if with that sigh, she released so much pent up tension. She eased her head back to rest on my shoulder, her soft hair brushing my cheek. As her tension eased, mine rose as Mother took my hands and drew them around her upper chest, hugging her to me as the upper swells of her breasts resting under her dress brushed my forearms. I was astonished by how easy we slipped into such an intimate embrace, words unnecessary or maybe feared...as if the utterance of a single syllable would shatter the exquisiteness of the moment. I felt my penis pulse in my pants, wondering if Mother could feel its insistent throbbing in the small of her back. Time passed by us unheeded as I held her and we savored the beauty of the moonlit ocean. My imagination ran wild as we sat, allowing me to pretend that we were all alone...not just on the island, but in the world -- that only Mother and I existed and that freed from all of civilization's mores and taboos, I might act upon my newly discovered desires. My fantasy was fueled by accident as Mother would occasionally rub her cheek along my arm and without thinking, would sometimes pluck up my hand and give it a loving kiss before returning it to continue its work of holding her tight. Suddenly and nearly without any conscious thought, I took a hand and stroked Mother's hair, brushing it with my fingers and sweeping it across one shoulder where the tips of her mane brushed across my arm. I stared at the flawless skin of the back of Mother's neck until without thinking about it, I shifted my head just enough to dip down and gently kiss Mother's exposed skin, my lips barely brushing her skin. In the bright, revealing light of the moon, I saw gooseflesh rise and fall on her neck even as Mother let a quiet moan slip from between her lips. An unfamiliar thrill of delight shot through me and I knew I had moved into an area of intimacy that far transcended any proper mother and son relationship. An odd little dance of kisses ensued as Mother would occasionally kiss my hand or forearm only to have her gesture returned by me as I would gently kiss the nape of her neck...each light kiss producing a slight murmur of pleasure from her. Mother took my hand and turned it over and planted a lingering kiss in the palm of my hand and then I responded with another kiss on her soft neck, pushing boundaries as I extended the tip of my tongue and carefully brushed it over her skin, tasting salt and something else...unknown but definable as Mother. My mother groaned with unfeigned delight, pressing herself more firmly against me, her body squirming slightly as she did so, her upper buttocks sweeping across the large bulge in my pants. Suddenly, Mother stiffened as if awakening from a dream to find herself in a place she was not familiar with. She broke free from my embrace, coming up onto her knees and then standing up awkwardly in the sand. Mother gazed down at me with an expression I felt was something akin both to desire and fear, her breasts heaving under her dress. A shiver seemed to race through her and she hugged herself, turning to face the moonlit ocean and after a long moment, said just above a whisper. "It's getting late. We should go home, son." The last word had a strange timbre to it as if Mother was reminding herself of who I was. I clambered to my feet and came to her, reaching out to place my hands on her upper arms. "Mother, I..." There was so much I wanted to say, but I didn't know how. I didn't want the moment to end -- in truth, I wanted it to grow and to become so much more. "Mother," I began again, but Mother smiled and put her fingers to my lips. "It has been a lovely evening, John...the best I can remember in quite some time, but..." Mother sighed and finished. "It's time we returned home." I slowly nodded and found myself suddenly marshalling myself to not cry, thinking to myself that a rare moment had passed beyond me. Mother reached out and stroked my face and then stepped into me, her arms going around my neck as she lifted herself up on tiptoe and kissed me on the lips...chaste yet warm and loving and unless I deluded myself, passionate. When the kiss ended, Mother slipped one arm around my waist and we slowly returned up the beach, following our own footsteps back...each step painful to me as it seemed to say to me that my mother and I were moving backwards away from the sweet moments of intimacy that were closer to that of lovers than of mother and child. We said nothing to each other until we heard a shriek echoing up out of the trees that made us both jump. We both laughed at our timidity and I said, "I wander what on Earth that was?" Mother shrugged and said, "A night bird calling to its mate...or searching for one." I shook my head and said, "I'm not sure...it sounded more like an animal, but I don't think there is anything big enough to make a noise like that." The Island of I Ch. 01 Mother said, "I don't know...I've heard some beasts making noise in the brush on my walks...deer perhaps or a wild pig." She shivered again. "Perhaps it is their time for rutting." Again I could hear the young girl that Mother had once been as she tittered at her suggestion. Before I could reply, another shrill cry echoed across the woods to fade away in the never ceasing waves. Mother shivered again, against me...something in the primal noise triggering some sort of recognition in her. Trying to alleviate the tension of the moment, I said with a laugh, "Maybe monsters walk the woods, Mother." My attempt at humor feel flat as Mother abruptly turned to face me and said with fearful earnest, "Don't make jokes like that, John, Not here...not on this terrible island." She pushed herself against me and I put an arm around her bare shoulders. "It's getting cold, son. It's time we were home." We pushed on, not hearing the strange animal or bird cries again, silence walking with us until we were back into the house and upstairs. Inside the lighted house, Mother seemed to recover and managed a smile as we came to her and Father's bedroom door. "Thank you, again, John," Mother said softly, almost shyly. "I had forgotten how nice a night time walk on the beach could be when you're with someone you love." She reached out and held my hand for a moment, running her hands over it as if contemplating all the possible uses she could put it to. In the awkward silence, I said, "Then we shall do it again and again, Mother...every night we are here if you like." Mother smiled and nodded. "Perhaps we shall." She looked down and seemed to blush for a moment and then in a rush, blurted, "I love you, John. Goodnight, son!" She let go of my hand and quickly retreated into her room, closing the door behind her without a backward glance. I slowly retreated to my room, my erection lingering while my testicles ached for release...the words "blue balls" rising up from my memories from detested high school gym classes. I started to undress, the thought of masturbating keen in my mind, but I felt restless and confined and found myself downstairs and standing on the broad porch that wrapped itself around the house. I prowled along the rails until I was facing the woods...silhouetted and shadowy under the now high and bright moon. Without conscious thought, I found myself moving across the back lawn, skirting the empty pool and slipping into the trees on one of the footpaths -- the sandy soil light, reflecting the cold light of the moon. I moved slowly and cautiously, starting now and again at noise in the brush, recognizing some as bird noises and others as the cacophony of the frogs we liberated from the pool. After a short while, I heard something different, identifying it quickly as laughter...human laughter. The path suddenly diverged away from the noise and I hesitated for a moment before quietly pressing into the undergrowth -- trying to remain silent myself. I recognized that I was intruding on the privacy of others -- of Hector and Antonia, but I felt compelled to find them and see the source of what I now clearly recognized as the laughing voice of our housekeeper. I sensed movement directly ahead and stealthily parted the leaves of a bush, trying not to gasp at what I found. In the middle of what appeared to be a blanket of thick green moss was a spring fed pool and in it bobbed the heads of Hector and his mother -- hands appearing now and then to move them or to splash water at each other. Mother and son swam warily around each other, Antonia laughing joyously every time she managed to splash water into her son's face or when Hector swept water over her. Both were lit with an almost supernatural light from the moon which appeared to stand overhead, the tree branches opening to provide them with illumination. Abruptly, Antonia moved away from her son towards the shore and then in a sparkling display of water cascading around her, she emerged, a dusky and voluptuous Venus rising from the dark waters and I gasped at her nakedness, so sudden and powerful was the sexuality she seemed to radiate. Hector's words of "Mama is a man's woman," rang again in my ears as I beheld his mother in all her glory. Water fell away from her olive tinged skin, smooth and without flaw, her huge, meaty breasts rolling with her easy gait as she climbed onto the thick carpet of moss, her black, curly hair hanging wet and limp about her face, brushing her shoulders and back. She turned back to face her son, allowing me a good view of her voluptuous body, a prominent round belly which bid one to look lower down to a wild and massive thatch of black pubic hair, now glittering in the moonlight. Her legs were full and muscular, not ungainly, but shapely. Gracefully, Antonia went to her knees and gestured to Hector with a 'come hither' motion. Hector, obedient son that he was, moved quickly, rising from the pool, his wiry body as naked as his mother and to my astonishment, sporting an erection of surprising size, long and thick for such a lean body, his penis so hard it seemed to be slapping up against his belly. Hector came to stand before his mother who knelt before him as a supplicant before an altar. Her dark eyes burned with fierce love and desire as she stared up at her son's face, her right hand coming up slowly as if haltingly touching God. As I watched all agog, Antonia wrapped her fingers around her son's penis, stroking its length and bringing the shaft downwards to meet her rising face. She whispered something to him, me managing only to hear his name, "Hector" spoken reverently. I felt myself harden as she suddenly buried her face in her son's crotch, rubbing her cheeks and lips against his wiry pubic hair and then along his lengthy shaft before opening her mouth and taking him inside herself. Unbidden, my hand made its way to my crotch and rubbed my aching erection as I watched mother sucking her son's penis...stories again from high school gym lockers and occasional grainy and lewd black and white photographs passed around were recalled as I watched Antonia suck Hector's cock. I was filled with fearful awe as the fact that not only was I actually seeing a woman pleasuring a man orally, but that they were mother and son, crashed down upon me. Hector smiled down at his mother, his fingers combing through Antonia's wet and tangled hair as she ran her lips over his length, taking his penis into her mouth, somehow able to slide her lips downward until they were brushing his dark, curly hair. I heard him moan, "Mama...so sweet...so right." He rolled his head back, closing his eyes and groaning like an animal in rut as his mother sucked him and sucked him and sucked him. Finally, Antonia let her son's member slip from her mouth, a streamer of something...saliva perhaps or his seed, extending from the head of his swollen penis to her lushly full lower lip, finally snapping to splatter against her heaving breasts. The mammoth gourds of breast flesh rose up and down with her aroused breath, her nipples larger than I would have imagined possible, seemingly like quarters in diameter and extended in arousal nearly half an inch. Antonia fell back into the bed of moss and held out her arms even as she spread her legs, revealing pink, glistening flesh splitting her lush, black pelt between her thighs. "It is time again, Hector...love your mother," she hissed with hunger in her husky voice. "Fuck me, son. Fuck your mother...love me and protect me!" With a feral growl, Hector fell to his knees, his penis again so erect that it slapped against his flat and muscled stomach. He eased himself down upon his mother, hunching his hips as she reached down between their wet bodies and then they both groaned as she guided him inside her. His toes dug into the soft, earthy moss as he thrust forward, making Antonia cried out as he buried his penis inside her vagina -- "Call it a pussy" a voice in my head whispered, sounding very much like my mother." I instantly recognized her cry of pleasure as that which Mother and I had heard earlier and without chagrin, I realized that my mother had been closer to the truth than I. I rubbed the bulge in my pants harder as I watched almost trancelike as mother and son made love...no, the proper term for what I was witnessing was the crude word, "fuck." Mother and son were fucking with guiltless abandon. I watched as Antonia and Hector kissed, their tongues hungrily whirling around each other, licking and sucking at each other's mouths in a mad frenzy. Hector's hands stoked at his mother's body, one moment stroking her thigh as she drew it back, opening herself up more to him, the next squeezing and mauling her fleshy breast, finding the swollen nipple and making Antonia cry out in pleasure all the louder. Antonia clawed her way down her son's back, leaving faint, bloody trails before her hands cupped his taut buttocks, her fingernails digging into his cheeks as she urged him to bury his erection in her all the more deeply and with more vigor. Her face, between wet and sloppy kisses, was screwed up into an intense display of what seemed to be a blur of ecstasy and pain. Between kisses, mother and son called out to each other with vulgar demands and endearments, their cries and moans blurring together into a cacophony of "Fuck me son...fuck me harder with your bull cock...Love you, Mama, love your tight pussy -- you make me feel so bigger." Gradually however, as they settled into an intense rhythm of thrusting into each other, Antonia's words changed into a steady chant, moderated only by the rising and lowering of her voice as her pleasure at being fucked by her son waxed and waned. The chant was I thought at first, Latin, but I couldn't make it out. It seemed both familiar yet foreign. Her words seemed to fuel her son's lust and even enflamed my own powerful desires and I stroked my cock through my pants with absolute need. The chant seemed to produce power, unseen, yet tangible, which washed over me in waves that grew steadily in power and intensity. I almost felt linked to the incestuous couple making love before me, sensing their impending orgasms -- Antonia's words turned to passionate and desperate screams arousing me almost as if it was my penis buried inside her, straining to be deeper in her womb before eruption and when their cries of pleasure rose fiercely as first Antonia's and then Hector's orgasm swept over them, I was carried along, driven to my knees by the intensity of my own ejaculations...my seed flooding my underwear and creating a dark stain in my slacks. The only thing that seemed to truly separate me from the fornicating mother and son before me was that as pleasure exploded between my legs, it was my own mother's face that I could see, her lovely red lips snarling with an orgasm of her own. When her image faded from my sight, I found myself gasping for breath and for a quick moment I feared that I might have betrayed myself with my own cries of pleasure, but I quickly saw that Antonia and Hector were oblivious to anything but each other, their arms wrapped tightly around each other, their bodies still joined, shiny with sweat from their impassioned coupling. As I heard them softly murmuring, "I love you," to each other, I suddenly felt very much the intruder...that I was peeking at something that should be private and intimate despite its perversity. Feeling wicked and guilty, I tried to stealthily creep away, eventually staggering from the wood and hurrying to the house where I hoped to creep upstairs while praying that neither Mother or Father would encounter me in such a state. Still, I was stopped in my tracks as I spied Mother standing at the railing of her veranda. The ocean breeze had picked up, becoming a fierce creature and it billowed her long nightgown about her. Mother stood stock still, the wind whipping about her as her hair danced wildly around her head. I did not know what troubled her, but I could sense deep inside me that she was distressed. Unmindful of my soiled state, I raced inside and upstairs as quickly as I could. Her bedroom door was thankfully unlocked and I stepped inside, the room in some disarray as her veranda doors stood wide open. I stepped through fluttering sheets of parchment and stationary to go to her side, the wind whistling more fiercely with each passing second. "Mother...what is wrong? Why are you standing out here like this?" My urgent questions and concerns for my mother fought for my full attention as Mother slowly turned to me and I gaped at her appearance. Mother was wearing a very sheer white nightgown through which her body was almost completely visible. My eyes were drawn quickly to the full and proud globes of her breasts, centered by wide and very dark aureoles, thick, nickel sized nipples pressing hard against the diaphanous silk of her nightgown. My eyes could not help themselves but to gaze lower, washing over her nearly visible belly button which thrilled and delighted me for some perverse reason and then lower between her legs where a dark, ordered patch of darkness appeared. Only when Mother moaned, "It's here...it's coming," did I break free of my unnatural desires and return to helping her in her distress. "Mother, what's wrong? What's coming?" Mother's eyes were wide and unseeing and although she turned towards my voice, it suddenly occurred to me that my mother wasn't actually conscious, but rather sleep-walking! With a trembling tone in her voice that had echoes of fear and desire she moaned, "It's awake and it's hungry...so hungry and it needs to feed." I was unsure what to do. I seemed to recall that it could be traumatic or even dangerous to wake someone in such a condition. "Mother, it's late. Come, let us get you back in bed." I took her by the arm and guided us towards the open French doors. Thankfully, Mother complied meekly with me, still moaning, "It is coming...its hunger aches to be quenched." She shuddered though whether from terror or longing, I did not know. My mind was a swirl, my emotions a churning morass of concern, fear and utter and complete lust. I got Mother back inside her bedroom, managing to close the doors and latch them and then guiding her back to the bed that she should have been sharing with Father. I felt a sudden flame of anger -- he should have been here...he shouldn't be neglecting my mother and his wife! I untangled the wrecked blankets and helped Mother back into bed, her still murmuring that "It is here and it is so terribly hungry." I fluffed her pillows and drew her blankets up over her scarcely concealed body and I confess that I lingered a moment more than I should have, admiring her nearly naked form, knowing with almost one hundred percent certainty that like Antonia, my mother was indeed a 'man's woman." The only other liberty that I took was to whisper, "Sleep mother, have good dreams," and then lean over and kiss her softly on the lips, only to be surprised as she gave a great, excited sigh and pressed her lips firmly against my mouth, her tongue lashing out to roll over my lips before I jerked back in surprise. Mother sighed once more and closed her sleeping eyes and seemed to return to a more normal slumber. Minutes passed as I watched my mother sleep, studying her beautiful face, imagining the lovely body beneath her blankets, the breasts that rose and fell slowly and steadily. Finally I padded out of my parents' bedroom. I pondered whether to disturb Father about Mother's sleeping misadventure, but in the end, decided to keep it to myself. Perhaps I would discuss it with her at a later date...perhaps I would keep this strange occurrence to myself. In my bedroom, I washed myself clean of the sticky, drying semen in my crotch on my penis and donned pajama bottoms -- the air having grown more humid as the evening progressed. I considered masturbating as my mind re-examined the night's strange and erotic events, but I was weary and I fell asleep as I was thinking about those perfect moments on the beach with my mother. # I awoke in shadow, kneeling in a dark, dusty, and narrow corridor, my heart filled with absolute terror and absolute lust. It took a moment to ascertain my surroundings -- I was in a hidden corridor that somehow I knew was adjacent to the bedroom of my parents. Directly before me was a panel that again, I instinctively understood would tilt slightly and allow me to peer into their bedroom. Despite being right handed, I realized my left hand was rising and rolling the panel upwards. I realized why I was using my left hand when I looked down and saw my right hand wrapped around my penis -- "Call it a cock, John!" murmured Antonia's voice...or was it my mother's? I was slowly stroking my enormously swelled member. I peered through the peep hole and immediately a moan of pleasure escaped my lips. Mother stood in front of her bed and was stark naked, her nightgown rolling across the floor as the doors to her veranda again stood open. Mother looked both angelic and carnal in her nakedness, her golden blonde hair roiling around her head while she held her arms out wide as offering to embrace someone. Mother's large breasts -- two gourd-like mounds of flesh rode high on her chest, impervious to the laws of gravity and between her long and shapely legs was a trimmed 'V' of dark, golden hair above her spread labia, her nether lips swollen and shiny. Her lovely body seemed to be quivering with absolute need and hunger. My hand raced up and down my erection as I marveled at the sheer sexual beauty that was my mother. There was a rumble of thunder and then the room grew suddenly warmer, evident to even me peering in from the secret corridor and my eyes were momentarily diverted to the open door and I gasped in amazement as something roiled into the room. What it was, I had no idea. One moment it appeared to be a rapidly changing cloud of vapor or smoke, its color rolling through the spectrum. Parts seemed to become solid and then become mist again. It seemed to make noise, though whether I heard it in my ears or in my mind, I'm not sure. I could however feel its lust, ravenous in its intensity. It approached Mother and while I had no idea of its intentions, I found myself rooted to the spot I was standing in, my hand unable to stop pleasuring myself. The entity had no up or down that I could see -- no discernible head or brain, yet I knew when it suddenly took notice of me, turning in roils of mist to study me. For a moment, its appearance seemed to solidify in my mind, but only for a moment and for that I was grateful. I discerned a singular, unnatural eye amidst writhing coils of tentacles -- each ending with mouths with long snake-like tongues, its skin both scaly and slick, oozing blood and fluid. Then the image was gone with only a terrible and rapidly fading memory left behind. My mind gibbered for a moment and then refocused on the pleasure that my hand was producing as I masturbated frantically. The entity moved towards Mother and I was faintly amazed to not be alarmed. I watched as it swirled around my mother and over her and between her legs before it reformed in front of her -- taking another discernible shape. With a start, I realized it was taking the form of a human and that it gradually took on the appearance of myself -- a smoky apparition of me, my dark doppelganger naked and erect...monstrously erect. Mother cried out happily at the appearance of my ghostly double, spreading her arms wide as it floated to her, embracing it passionately. Mom cried out, "My John!" as she pressed her lips to its smoky mouth. It wrapped arms around Mother, fingertips becoming elongated and spreading unnaturally over her body -- one hand completely covering her large, meaty breast while another smoky tendril slipped down between her legs, sawing back and forth, making my mother moan lowly and lewdly in a way that nearly made me orgasm. The Island of I Ch. 01 The entity rose into the air, taking Mother with it, tendrils and wispy hands opening her legs, spreading them widely as its opaque, cloudy penis expanded and rose, reaching out to probe at my mother's sex. Antonia's voice again echoed in my ears, becoming Mother's voice and then the housekeeper's again -- "Call it a pussy...it is what a woman fucks with...cock and pussy...what is more natural?" The entity's penis-like appendage thrust forward and Mother screamed -- her voice betraying pain and pleasure blended together as her body stiffened in the misty creature's embrace, her nipples swelling as the barely tangible cock disappeared inside her. Her eyes were wide with excitement, her lip curled in a sexual sneer as smoky tendrils caressed her flesh. The tips of tendrils materialized again into clasping mouths, clamping down on Mother's engorged nipples, pulsating as they seemed to bite and suck. Mother writhed and cried out, "Yes, John!" as the thing carnally assaulted her while my hand fairly flew up and down the shaft of my penis...my throbbing cock. More smoky tendrils uncoiled from the entity's body, the central shaft or penis pulsating with movement, pumping in and out of her wet hole...my mother's pussy, her labia spread wide. Lips at the end of tendrils reached out and kissed Mother's undulating body, snake-like tongues licking at her flawless flesh while others seemed to be exploring her for other openings. Ghostly hands spread Mother's buttocks and another penis like offshoot emerged what still partly resembled me, changing shape as it moved and Mother cried out again as the appendage grew long and narrow and inserted itself up her anus and although I couldn't see, I somehow knew that once inside Mother's anal passage, the cock like tentacle began to expand and grow. Mother was lost now in the throes of a tremendous orgasm, any reserved part of her character forgotten as she shrilly screamed, "Fuck me, son! Fuck Mother hard! Fuck all of Mother's holes and make me cum...cuM...cUM...CUM!" I groaned as my own pleasure overwhelmed me, making me cry out as I began to ejaculate, spewing immense quantities of semen over my hand and onto the wall where I knelt. Black spots swam in front of my eyes and I had several bad moments where I couldn't breathe and thought I might black out...my world winnowing down to the sight of my mother being molested, assaulted, raped, fucked by a monstrous creature beyond comprehension and that she was lost in the throes of carnal ecstasy as it did so. Mother's cries of passionate pleasure were cut off as the creature's face...my face moved to kiss her, its smoky lips pressing against hers. I could still hear Mother's garbled moans and her eyes grew wild with lewd delight while her lips hollowed, reminding me of Antonia's fevered sucking of her son's penis earlier. I suddenly perceived that the entity was somehow fucking Mother with a third penis-like tentacle via her mouth and that it was giving her as much pleasure as it was receiving. My orgasm escalated and I sobbed with painful pleasure as my cock bucked and jerked, impossibly ejaculating with so much force that it hurt. I couldn't take my eyes off Mother lost in her own ghostly rapture and the world seemed to burn away leaving only us and the monstrous deity and as the world filled with the brilliant and beautiful light that was pure sexual ecstasy, it seemed that Mother's eyes turned towards me, acknowledging that somehow we were joined in this terrible, wonderful moment. Despite a mouth of misty cock, Mother's cries of sexual delight surrounded me and embraced me and took me beyond comprehension itself, obliterating me in the depths of her lust and carnal satisfaction... To be continued... The Island of I Ch. 02 Here is Chapter 2 of 3 of the Island of I. I strongly suggest you read Chapter 1 for this to make any sense. I have enjoyed your comments on the story so far and very much look forward to your thoughts on this installment of the story. Several readers have asked about the time frame. I deliberately left it vague although the setting is not modern. I'm thinking late 1940s - early 1950s. Apologies for any and all anomalies. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters exist solely within the confines of the story and in my imagination. Enjoy! * "Mother!" I sobbed, sitting straight up in my bed, my body convulsing with waves of pleasure. Sunlight streamed through my open windows as I came into myself again, first registering that my hand was wrapped around my aching and still erect penis, my fingers and wrist coated with semen. My member was dark and angry, jutting through the fly of my pajamas. I slowly unwound my fingers which ached with effort and marveled at the amount of semen that covered my hand and rested in sticky clumps all around the crotch of my pajamas. I moaned softly as memories of the...was it really a dream that I had just had? Images of Mother's naked body raced through my mind, swiftly followed by the insane images of her being raped...no, willingly fucked by some nightmarish creature who looked like me...the very thought sending aftershocks of pleasure coursing through me. I wondered if I was going mad to be dreaming of such things. I heard the faint murmurs of voices below and glancing at the clock beside my bed was surprised to see that it was nearly ten in the morning. I had overslept...thankfully, it was Sunday and I owed Father no labor today. Then I recalled Mother's sleepwalking last night and had a sudden and urgent need to check on her. I swung my legs out of bed, wincing at the sore muscles and then as I started to rise up, stopped in stunned amazement and stared at the knees of my pajamas. They were torn and dirty as if I had been kneeling on a rough, wooden floor, filthy with dust like I might have encountered in...a secret passage behind my parents' bedroom. "Oh, Lord!" I moaned. Had I had a nightmare or had last night actually happened? With my heart racing and my body trembling, I staggered to the shower, running it hot to sooth my aching body and then running it icy cold to clear my head which spun with confusion as I tried to sort dream from reality -- an effort I failed at as in addition to whatever strangeness had occurred to me and mother, the images of Antonia and her son committing incest joined the bizarre thoughts already present in my mind. It was with a heavy and confused heart that I emerged from my room, angling first towards Mother's bedroom where I found the door open and the room in perfect order, but empty. Both relieved and yet disappointed, I slowly made my way downstairs and hearing laughter and talk coming from the kitchen, cautiously emerged through the swinging doors. Mother and Hector were sitting at the plain kitchen table...a plate full of fruit in front of my mother and a heaping plate of eggs and bacon in front of Hector. Antonia was standing behind him and all three had been talking only to stop at my arrival to turn and smile at me. "John...my sleepyhead, finally awake!" Mother said laughingly as she rose from her seat. I was struck by her cheerfulness -- there being none of the almost always ever present sadness in her face or demeanor. I was also struck by her casual appearance -- Mother who usually wore long, billowy dresses was dressed more like a teenaged girl, having donned a pair of what I believe are called capris -- tight fitting slacks that tapered off at mid-ankle. With it, she was wearing what I believed was one of my older blue chambray work shirts, knotted and tied just below her breasts, exposing the alabaster white of her slender stomach. Her hair had been pulled up and coiled into some sort of bun and even without a sign of makeup, she looked more beautiful than a motion picture star at a premiere. She took three strides to me and gave me a quick hug, pressing herself against me for a moment, the feel of her large, pert breasts giving evidence that she was without a bra. She pecked me on the cheek and then began tugging me by the arm to come to the table. "I was thinking I'd have to come up there and wake you up myself," Mother chortled, sitting me next to her. "And I told her that you needed your rest," added Antonia, leaning over me to set a plate laden with eggs and bacon before me, her huge breast flattening against my arm as she moved in, lingering as she turned her head and smiled at me, saying, "Young men need their rest as they often exert themselves more than they realized." I felt my face begin to burn as I detected a tone of amused accusation in her voice. Had she or her son noticed me peeping at their lovemaking the night before? "Dig in, John," Mother urged me, placing a hand on my arm in a gesture of easy familiarity. "I know you and Hector plan to continue your work on the pool today and it's such a lovely day, I thought I might help!" I stared at her in surprise...stunned by her offer and still mulling over her change of demeanor. Although still a virgin, I had heard the comments, albeit mostly in the gym locker room made by mostly boy-men who were virgins themselves, about the change in a woman that a good night's sex could induce. My dreams echoed in my head...Mother in the throes of a fantastical orgasm and again I wondered if my dreams had basis in fact somehow. Finally, I composed myself enough to say, "That's wonderful, Mother...just, please don't overtax yourself." Hector swallowed a mouthful of breakfast and gave Mother a smile that bordered on the lewd and said, "Yes, Missus Halloran, it will be our pleasure to have you with us." Even in my state of advance shock, I could see Hector's eyes roaming lasciviously over Mother's shapely figure and while I wasn't surprised to feel a flame of jealousy in my heart, I was disconcerted to feel a sense of pride in his admiration of my mother. Soon enough we found ourselves at the bottom of the pool -- all three of us working hard scrubbing the slime and crud from the walls of the pool, our bodies all growing hot and sweaty. Hector and I had the luxury of doffing our shirts, allowing our now deeply tanned upper bodies to gleam with perspiration while Mother resolutely soldiered on, my old work shirt darkening and molding itself to her body -- her nipples becoming nearly visible as they seemed to be constantly hard, outlined by the wet chambray. I could see the scratch marks on Hector's back, but Mother either didn't notice or chose not to comment on them. As often as my own attention become distracted by the sight of Mother's shapely body bent over, her breasts swaying underneath her shirt, I also caught Hector's lusty gaze on her as well. Realizing that he had been discovered, he would grin and shrug his shoulders and resume his own work. Part of me wanted to slug him and part of me ached to be able to confer with him...curious about how he and his mother became lovers and to have a confidant to discuss my own unnatural feelings with. To complicate matters, Antonia, finished with her own chores, showed up with an extra pail and bucket and she joined mother in the beginnings of scrubbing clean the tiled floor of the pool. She came dressed in what appeared to be men's Bermuda shorts, the material tight around her full but shapely thighs and what looked like a skin-tight wife-beater T-shirt that Clark Gable had made famous, the white cotton molding itself around her immense breasts which seemed almost visible, her darker skin almost bleeding through the thin cotton. For a moment, Mother looked taken aback at Antonia's scandalous appearance, glancing back at me with concern and perhaps a tinge of jealousy that seemed to be quickly dampened as I smiled back at her, trying to convey my love for her in my expression. Mother joined Hector's mother, both kneeling on the pool floor and creating intentionally or inadvertently an erotic spectacle for we two young men. Mother and Antonia pursue their work with a vengeance, scrubbing away with their brushes, their buttocks waving high in the air while their breasts swung freely below, betraying the effort they were making. I felt my penis harden quickly, throbbing uncomfortably in my stained and worn khakis. A quick glance at Hector confirmed that he too had grown erect at the sight of our mothers...a definite contrast of motherly beauty displayed so boldly before us. I assumed Mother's display of her attributes to be an accident, but had my suspicions about Antonia who would often glance at her son with an air of what seemed to me to be absolute lust, sparing me similar looks from time to time. When Antonia looked at me with her dark eyes, I felt exposed...as if she was seeing me naked, both in body and in thought. Further, she conveyed somehow an air of approval in her dark glances. Still, before the afternoon began to wane, we had made tremendous progress towards rehabilitating the pool and when Hector and I could tear our attentions away from our enchanting mothers, we discussed our intentions to devote some time to getting the water pump and the heaters operational again. Overhearing our plans to get together after supper, Antonia rose up, her breasts almost visible underneath the now sweat soaked cotton and sighed. "Not tonight, Hector. You've worked hard today and you should relax a little." She didn't say, "relax a little with me," but it was in her tone anyway...at least that was my perception. Mother climbed to her feet. "She's right." She looked down at me, smiling, her face shiny with sweat, beads of it clinging to her upper lip, looking so enticing that I ached to take her in my arms and lick it off her. "John, I was thinking of another long walk on the beach...perhaps we can make a picnic of it." She glanced at Antonia, her face registering momentary disapproval at the woman's wanton appearance, but then saying, "Antonia, would you and Hector care to join us?" The voluptuous woman shook her head and replied, "Thank you...not tonight." She licked her lips and said, "Tonight, I think a long, hot bath is in order and then just a quiet evening with my son." Her answer was innocent enough, but to my mind, it was redolent with sexual promise and I felt my penis throb with her every word. Still, her frank sexuality vanished from my sight as Mother came up to me, touching me on the shoulder as she said softly, "Are you up for another stroll, son?" I trembled a little, the slightest touch of her fingers on my bare skin threatening to make me climax and I said in a whispery voice, "I'd love to, Mother." She smiled, the pleased expression of a woman who knew she had what she wanted and said, "Lovely, get cleaned up and meet me in the kitchen in half an hour." She strolled away from me up the rising floor of the pool, her buttocks swaying delightfully in her now sweaty capris which clung tightly to her behind. "Lovely, isn't she?" I heard Hector breath from slightly behind me. As Mother vanished into the house, I turned to glare at him, but was surprised to see both he and his mother standing there...sharing the same appreciative and lusty smile on their faces. Antonia had her arm through Hector's and was leaning into him, making her right breast seemed to burgeon almost beyond the T-shirt's capacity to restrain it. "Your mother is indeed a rare and beautiful woman, John," Antonia said with a husky hiss. "You are a lucky son." "Thank you," I replied hoarsely. "Hector, inside, my dear. Draw me a hot bath." Hector grinned at me and gave me another sly wink, moving away from his mother quickly. Antonia remained behind, studying me from behind a serious smile. "I am glad you heeded my words, John. You made your mother very happy." She stepped up closer to me...so close her huge breasts seemed to just brush my bare chest. My nostrils flared, picking up her scent...something almost spicy, yet mixed with something that was purely feminine. "I've never seen her as happy as she was today." Hector's mother gave me a coy smile. "A good and loving son can be a wonderful curative for a lonely mother, no?" She reached out and slowly ran her hand over my sweaty chest. "Be your mother's good and loving son, John. Make her happy." She finished her words just as her fingernails reached the waistband of my khakis. Antonia looked down below my waist and smiled as I blushed more knowing she could easily see my erection bulging there. "You can do that, can't you, John?" I slowly nodded and replied in a whispery voice, "Yes, ma'am." Antonia smiled and stood up on tip-toe, her massive breasts mashing into my chest as she kissed me on the cheek. "That's a good boy...now get along...go to your mother!" She moved past me, her breasts slowly dragging across my skin, her thick nipples hard and pointed, leaving me to watch her move slowly and sensually up the sloped floor...the ugliness of her Bermuda shorts vanquished by the way they clung to her backside. I hurried inside myself, slipping quietly up the stairs, only to come to a complete stop outside my parents' door as I heard Mother singing brightly to herself. It brought a grin to my face...it being a long time since Mother seemed happy enough to sing to herself. The door itself was slightly open and before I could move on or look away, Mother passed by, naked and holding a dress in front of her. I got a quick glimpse of her full and upright breasts from the side and of her long, lovely legs and her heart-shaped behind..."Call it, her lovely ass," Antonia's voice echoed through my head. I barely was able to keep myself from groaning. I knew I should move on...that it was wrong to peek at my mother so, but I was rooted to the floor, unable to look away, anxious to see another glimpse of her. I was not bothered by the sudden thought that Hector would approve...after all, he said there would be opportunities. Suddenly, I was rewarded as Mother passed by the door again, this time carrying only a pair of sandals that could be tied around her ankles. In her nakedness, she was beyond glorious...her breasts rolling gently, so heavy and round and firm and below her flat belly lay a triangular patch of dark, golden curls pointing downward and drawing attention to her slightly parted labia, moisture clearly evident in the bright lights of her bedroom. Finally, when Mother had passed out of my line of sight again, I found the strength to move, hurrying to my room and my shower where I was torn between the need to masturbate, savoring my nasty thoughts about Mother as I stroked my penis and the realization that Mother herself would be waiting for me. It was the prospect of being in her company again that in the end forestalled my masturbation and I quickly showered, barely touching my erection before I tucked it uncomfortably in my shorts and dressed for my evening with my mother. I found Mother in the kitchen, packing some fruit and cheese in a small wicker basket along with a small bottle of wine. She looked up from her work and giggled at me. "I'm not sure you're legally old enough to drink, but it can be our little secret, son." I smiled at my mother, her loveliness nearly taking my breath away. "For you, Mother...I can keep many secrets," I replied as I ran my eyes over her beautiful body. Mother had exchanged her usual long, billowy dresses for a shorter hemmed summer dress -- a pale green color with thin spaghetti straps over her shoulders and a modest 'V' for a neckline that somehow with its limited exposure of her voluptuous cleavage seemed more erotic than if she'd gone topless. The hem of her dress rose just a few inches above her knees and allowed a more constant view of her shapely legs. Mother had tied her hair up into a French twist that hung over her left shoulder, giving her a more youngish appearance. She was a dream come to life. We quickly made our way to the beach, walking through the sands at the edge of the surf, Mother playfully splashing her feet in the little pools and puddles as we journeyed away from the house, she becoming more relaxed and open as we drew further away. Sometimes we held hands silently as we walked, other times, Mother would teasingly skip away from me, letting herself get splashed by the gentle waves rolling in until her dress was finely damp with moisture. With lewd curiosity, I waited to see what would happen when her light dress grew wet, but quickly discovered that it would not grow transparent as it grew wetter. However, it did mold itself more precisely against her skin, revealing to me that like earlier today, Mother was without a bra...the cooling water hardening her nipples and making them stand out against the darkening green fabric more clearly. The swollen nubs were hard not to look at and I think even Mother was aware of how they stood out, glancing down at them from time to time, but she did not seem to care, her mood so much brighter than it had been for some time. We were on the far side of the island before the moon began to slowly rise, looking fatter and more swollen than the night before. We paused then, spreading out a light blanket on the sand to have our picnic. We didn't speak much as Mother brought out the food and the wine, she laughing when she said, "I forgot the glasses!" No matter, we took turns drinking from the bottle itself...some dark wine, strong and sweet to my tongue. I enjoyed watching Mother drink...seeming so erotic as she put the bottle to her lips and took a sip and always afterwards, slowly licking her lips, glancing over at me with hooded eyes. At one point, Mother said, "Son, are there any strawberries left?" I glanced into the now mostly empty basket and came up with two large, ripe berries. I sat one down on her napkin and impulsively held the other one out, raising one eyebrow in query. Mother laughed, her voice dying away as I slowly brought the red berry to her mouth. Her eyes were wide with something I didn't recognize as I brushed the tip of the strawberry to her mouth and ran it back and forth. Mother's eyes never left mine as she slowly opened her lips and wrapped them around the strawberry, drawing it into her mouth without biting until my fingertips were touching her lips. Slowly she bit into the fruit, taking all but the leafy end and I trembled as I thought I felt the slightest brush of her tongue against my fingers. I became suddenly very aware of my penis throbbing angrily in my pants, already erect, but now dangerously close to climax from this innocent and yet so carnal an encounter. A playful look grew on Mother's face as she picked up the other strawberry and held it close to her mouth. The tip of her tongue came out and licked the ripe, red berry and then she began to open her mouth wide, but then paused and held it out to me, bringing it to my lips. She smiled at me inquiringly and I wanted to scream, "YES, I WANT IT!" suddenly overwhelmed to touch and taste anything that had touched her tongue. I opened my mouth and Mother brought the fruit closer only to pull it away as my lips closed around it. She giggled, the lusty timbre of her voice making my erection pound all the harder before again placing it in my mouth and allowing me to bite into it. I felt her fingertips brush my lips before she took the remainder and return it to her own lips where she again licked it subtly with her tongue and then popped it into her mouth. We both laughed like naughty children, our hands somehow finding each other and we watched the moon rise higher over the ocean for a while until Mother said softly, "I'd like to walk a little more. Let's leave the basket and blanket and pick them up on our way back." The Island of I Ch. 02 We left the detritus of our picnic behind and slowly walked further down the beach, Mother slipping her arm around my waist as we walked slowly through the surf. We didn't get far before Mother stumbled and I caught her before she fell, both of us gasping as my hands found large handfuls of her breasts as I pulled her back up. Mother sighed softly as I let my fingers slide free and then she leaned into me, her breasts pillowing against my chest. She looked up at me with a mixture of confusion and what I saw as desire, smiling as she said, "Maybe I had a little too much wine." "That's okay, Mother." I gestured back at the beach further away from the surf. "We can sit awhile, watch the Moon over the water." Mother nodded and with her arms around my waist, allowed me to walk us away from the water's edge. At a safe distance, I helped Mother to sink to her knees, her looking up at me with large eyes, reminding me more than a little of Antonia and Hector last night. In the brilliant illumination of the Moon, I had little doubt that my erection stood out plainly against my pants. I quickly unbuttoned my shirt and laid it down for Mother to sit on, going to my knees and helping her slowly turn around and then sit between my outstretched legs as she had done last night. Mother sighed happily as she wiggled herself into a comfortable position, her modestly covered bottom rubbing wonderfully against my crotch. As she had done the night before, Mother drew my arms around her upper chest and leaned back into me. As she rested her head on my shoulder, she said softly, "I like this, son." She picked up my right hand and kissed my palm and then returned it to a place just above the swell of her left breast. With a hoarse whisper, I replied, "I like this too, Mother." I punctuated my statement by planting a gentle kiss on her bare shoulder. After a long and comfortable silence watching the Moon rise up, its reflection lengthening out from the horizon to the shore, Mother said with a bit of wistfulness. "I'd forgotten how much I loved this." "You used to do this with Father?" I replied softly. Mother hesitated for a moment and said, "He wasn't always this way...when we met back in college, he had his playful, romantic side." She sighed again. "We'd walk on the beaches and watch the moon, sometimes staying out all night, making love as the sun rose up..." Her voice faded out and she was silent for some minutes before finally saying softly, "I'm sorry, John. I didn't mean to say such things and embarrass you. Not something I should be telling my son." I leaned in and brushed my lips on the outer shell of her ear and whispered back. "I'm not embarrassed, Mother. It makes me happy to know that once you were so very happy." I paused, licking my dry lips before adding, "I would love to see you that happy again." I felt my heart beat as I wondered if she would understand what I truly meant. Mother sighed and shook her head and said, "You're a good son to say so, but I fear your father is past such things now...he considers them...immature and childish." "Father is a fool," I responded, my voice harsher than I wanted it to sound. "A husband should consider his wife to be his most important priority -- not a pile of smelly, old books." Mother laughed in response and I am sure I detected both amusement and bitterness in her voice. "My son, some day you will make a lucky woman a wonderful husband." She then again took hold of my right hand and gave me a gentle kiss on my palm. When she put my hand back down again, this time it rested plainly on the upper swell of her breast, partly covered by her dress and partly exposed, allowing me to feel the pillow like softness of her breasts. I wondered if I should discreetly withdraw my hand, but Mother solved that question by resting her hand atop mine. A long period of silence was interrupted when Mother said in an odd voice. "Do you think Antonia is attractive?" I opened my mouth, but could not think of a reply. I laughed uncomfortably and finally muttered, "Antonia is...Antonia. She certainly has certain...attributes." Mother snorted and said, "She has big breasts, you mean?" "They certainly um...stand out," I replied, wincing at the lameness of my answer. "I saw you glancing at her today," Mother said frostily. "Um, it was rather hard not to, Mother. I am a man after all." I hesitated, but then went ahead and blurted out, "And I'm sure Hector was looking at you just as much as I looked at Antonia. It made me very jealous." Mother barked out a laugh, her hand on mine rising to cover her mouth. "Good Lord...do you really think so? No, don't answer that. Do you think Antonia is beautiful, son?" I chose my words carefully and replied, "I think Antonia is an attractive woman, yes, but she is not beautiful...not like you are, Mother." Mother chuckled lowly and I knew she was pleased. "Do you...do you really think I'm beautiful, John?" "Oh yes, Mother. You are the most beautiful woman I know of." I took a chance and again kissed her softly on the shoulder before adding, "Father is so lucky...damn the fool for not seeing that." I expected a mild to harsh rebuke for condemning Father so, but for once, Mother did not make apologies for her husband, but instead whispered in a teary voice, "Thank you, John. I...I think I needed to hear that." There was a pause and she added almost too soft to hear, "It's been too long since I heard such compliments." I kissed her again on the shoulder and then bravely on the nape of her neck, making her shudder slightly. "Then I will remind you of how beautiful you are on a daily basis from now on...hourly or more if you prefer." Mother sighed and wiggled slightly against me again, searching for a more comfortable position or perhaps seeking to better ascertain the physical response I was having in her being in my embrace. "You are a truly wonderful son," she said and again lifted my hand up. Mother planted a soft kiss on each of my fingertips before kissing my palm again. My heart then gave a lurch as Mother took my hand and planted it firmly over her breast, my thumb and forefinger resting on the naked swell of her breast while the rest of my hand rested on the fully rounded globe of flesh underneath her dress, my palm pressing now against her very hard nipple. Mother then compounded the action by placing her hand atop mine to keep it in place. Silence reined again, punctuated only briefly by Mother's infrequent sighs and my needful gasps of breath. My cock seemed to throb in rhythm with her heart which I could feel pounding in her chest. The birds and other nightlife seemed to fade away and we were alone, accompanied only by the gentle wash of the surf for music. I could feel the sweat running down my back, not triggered by the humid air, but by nervousness as I wandered what to do next. I cursed my awkwardness, thinking that Mike Hammer would know what to do...or even Hector. I wondered if Mother truly knew what she was doing and even if she did, where was the limit to my possible actions here. I continued to periodically kiss Mother's soft shoulders and the nape of her neck and her upper back, all which made her sigh happily until finally I worked up the courage as I was kissing her neck to slowly squeeze my fingers around her breast and very slowly, work my hand in a circle, gently massaging her large, firm breast. As my palm slowly scraped over her cotton covered nipple, I could feel it swell even larger and Mother let out a very low, but happy purr. Her hand atop mine did nothing to stop me from caressing her breast and even seemed to tighten a little around my hand to keep it from suddenly flying off. Suddenly, I was aware that Mother was beginning to perspire as well, her legs slowly moving and shifting in the sand -- her knees rising up and allowing the hem of her dress to slide back towards her crotch before digging her heels into the sand and straightening her legs to plow trowels in the sandy soil. I kissed her neck and then as a large rivulet of sweat slowly slid down her neck, I reached out and tongued it off her fair skin. I could feel Mother's heart beating more strongly, paced by her pulse as blood pumped into her nipple and as I worked my hand on her breast. As I slowly and patiently planted a series of soft kisses on her neck and worked my way towards her shoulder, I was able to look over her shoulder and down, marveling that I could actually see my hand moving carefully in a circular fashion over her breast and then as she drew her knees back, the soft white of her inner thighs where the hem of her dress fell back, her free hand rubbing the inside of her leg, drawing closer to her crotch where her panties were now revealed and I could see in that almost magical moonlight that in the middle of her gusset was a growing dark spot! Mother's vagina was wet...she was aroused -- no, very aroused! In my excitement, my hand covering Mother's breast clenched almost involuntarily, fingers digging into her soft flesh, separated only by the thin cotton of her dress. Mother let out a gasp, surprise, pleasure and shock in her voice and her body jerked and she let out a loud moan and sat up suddenly, breaking our embrace. With awkward swiftness, Mother scrambled to her feet, hands coming to her face, mouth open in an expression of amazement and dismay. I came up to my knees, saying hoarsely, "Mother, are you alright?" Mother looked down at me, her mouth moving for several seconds, but with nothing coming out. She spun and faced the moonlit ocean, wrapping her arms around herself as if suddenly chilled. I came to my feet and went to her, carefully placing my hands on her shoulders. "Mother, is something wrong?" My heart was pounding with fear as I wondered if I had done something terribly wrong. Long, agonizing seconds passed before Mother shook her head and turned and smiled wanly up at me and said, "Nothing's wrong. It's...just getting late. We should get back home." I knew I had to say something. My heart was breaking as I realized that the moment...so special and so romantic, was now over -- lost and irretrievable. "Mother...I..." Mother raised her hand -- the same one that had just held my hand to her breast and touched two fingers to my lips. "I'm fine, son. Nothing is...wrong, but we need to get back. It's getting late." I nodded, feeling sadness and regret that was only ameliorated by the fact that as we walked, Mother again slipped an arm around my waist and allowed me to wrap my arm around her shoulder. We took our time, silently strolling back along the edge of the surf, pausing only to pick up our picnic basket. Not a word passed between us along the way, Mother only speaking to me after I had walked her up the stairs to the door of hers and Father's bedroom. We stared at each other for several seconds, an aura of awkwardness and embarrassment thick between us that was finally breached when Mother said softly, "I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed our walk, son." I shook my head and said, "Not nearly as much as I did, Mother. I only..." Again, Mother put her fingers to my lips to silence me as she slowly shook her head and said, "I know." She smiled at me and said in such a tender voice. "I love you so much, John." Then before I could reply, Mother leaned into me, her breasts flattening and dragging against my chest as she rose up and kissed me on the lips, chaste and yet passionate, her closed lips pressing urgently against mine for seconds that were far longer than what one would consider appropriate between a mother and son. I was entranced, wanting the kiss to never end and by the time I realized it had, Mother entered her bedroom and closed the door behind her, leaving me standing there, lost and forlorn like an abandoned puppy. I reached out and touched the door with my fingers and whispered, "I love you too, Mother -- more than anything." I retreated to my room and as the night before, considered masturbating, but found myself too restless to stay in my room even though the evening grew late. I ventured to the kitchen, looking for a snack that would sate the hunger gnawing at my belly, but found nothing, knowing full well that it was not food I desired. I stepped out onto the back porch, my eyes seeking out in the moonlit night, the path that led into the woods... the path I had taken that had led to my discovery of Antonia's and Hector's incestuous relationship. Part of me was sorely tempted to journey out there again in the hopes of spying on them once more, but I recalled that Hector's mother had intimated that they were staying in for the night. I retreated back into the kitchen and for long minutes stared down the hallway that led to the servant quarters, my imagination running wild, wondering if at this very moment, Antonia and her son were locked in carnal congress...making love, nay, fucking like lust filled animals. Part of me wanted to try and slip into their private quarters and spy on them, but I was not ready to yield to such base and venal desires. At last, I pulled my attention from them and slowly made my way back up the stairs. Standing in the hallway of our quarters, I looked to the closed door of Father's office, wondering what ancient lore he might be lost in. I glanced over at my parents' bedroom and felt my penis throb as I imagined Mother in some erotic lingerie or stark naked, lying like a goddess upon her bed. My erection which had never fully waned began to throb and grow again and I began walking down the hall when I came to a halt between two aged portraits -- severe paintings of a former master of the house and his spinster daughter. I had already discovered that between them was an access portal to an old passageway between the upper floor and the servant's quarters, no doubt place there so servants could move unseen by their so-called betters as they went back and forth on their many errands. I'm not sure how long I stood there debating my next action and I don't remember retrieving a small flashlight from my room, but suddenly I found myself inside the secret corridor, cautiously and quietly descending a narrow, spiral staircase of cast iron. Below, it opened up into another narrow corridor and it suddenly struck me how similar it resembled the secret place from which I had spied on Mother in my dreams last night. Here and there light shone through slight cracks in the wall. I wasn't sure of my direction, but turned right on instinct and moved carefully along, extinguishing my light. I paused in front of a section of wall that had to my surprise a slide mechanism similar to the one in my dream. I raised my hand to quietly work it, somehow knowing what I would see. I peered through the peephole and was shocked to see Antonia staring back at me. I stifled a gasp and nearly slammed into the dusty, cobwebby wall behind me before I recovered and summoning all my nerve peered again. Again, I was looking directly into Antonia's face, but quickly realized that she did not see me -- indeed, I doubted she could see at all, so glazed with lust and pleasure were her eyes. As I took in all there was to see, everything became clear. Antonia was on a large brass bed on her hands and knees facing the wall from which I was peeking. She was naked -- her massively pendulous breasts swinging wildly about as Hector pumped his hard penis into her from behind. A multitude of lit candles were scattered about the room, illuminating it to create an atmosphere akin to that of a church or temple. In the glow of that near holy light, I could see her olive skinned body was covered in a thick sheen of sweat and I wondered how long Hector and his mother had been carnally engaged. Gradually, I became aware of Antonia making a low moaning sound -- a continuous noise of pure, unrelenting pleasure of the lewdest kind. Simultaneously, I became aware of the scent of their sex...of her arousal and his seed..."Call it the smell of FUCKING," moaned my mother's voice inside my head. I began to perceive other sounds...Hector's harsh gasps for breath as he labored to pleasure his mother, his face twisted in a rictus of incestuous delight. And then there was the sound of their bodies slapping together, sharp and constant, accompanied by the noise of wetness and in my mind's eye, I could see his cock and her pussy, joined, his length and girth filling her wet and hungry womb, becoming one, producing such ecstasy that I could only dream of. My hand found my own erect penis and began to furiously stroke, aching for the release that I had denied or been denied all evening long. I was filled with jealousy of Antonia and Hector, envious of what they shared and what I realized now I wanted -- no, needed to have with my own mother. As I masturbated, I saw myself alongside them, kneeling next to Hector with Mother on all fours in front of me, her lovely buttocks raised in sweet offering to me, me thrusting my erection deep into her...her...her pussy, relishing each savage stroke inside her as her wet, steaming hot flesh wrapped itself around my...my...my hard cock! I could clearly see Mother looking over her shoulder at me, her face expressing more happiness and pleasure than I had ever imagined...eyes glowing with love for her son and what he was doing for her. As I felt my orgasm racing closer, I could see Mother and Antonia looking at each other, giving each other a smile of understanding that only mother's who were the lovers of their sons, could comprehend. Each snaked a hand towards the other as their moans rose in intensity, fingers intertwining as incestuous ecstasy consumed them. Their heads moved closer together, lips opening as if anticipating a kiss as their sons fucked them harder and harder. "MATRE TIAMBO UN UMANO UN ESTASIUM VICTRE DIABLAS!" My incestuous fantasy was broken as Antonia began to scream seemingly nonsense words in the grip of her orgasm -- her eyes now wide and unseeing in pure ecstasy. Her orgasm seemed to manifest in waves of pure energy that radiated outward, washing over me, allowing me somehow to tap into their lusty pleasure. As she chanted the strange words over and over, my own pleasure became more than I could bear and with a mostly strangled sob, I began to climax, ejaculating massive amounts of semen into my hand and against the wall, almost collapsing to my knees from the intensity of my pleasure even as Hector growled loudly as with one last brutal thrust, he buried his cock inside his mother's womb and began to fill her with his seed. The sensation of filling her son's hot semen inside her pussy sent Antonia over the edge and her chanting disintegrated into cries and sobs of pure carnal ecstasy as she threw her head back and through sneering lips howled as she came with animalistic intensity. My own climax brought me to tears as my desires momentarily overwhelmed me while I struggled to understand the incestuous desires that had so recently come to dominate my world. I wiped my hand clean of my seed and then wiped tears from my momentarily blinded eyes. When I had composed myself, I again peered through the peephole and felt my momentarily sated penis twitch as I saw a scene of pure carnal lust. Antonia had somehow managed to turn around and crawl up to her son's sprawled body, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath. Her full lips were wrapped around Hector's still semi-erect cock, her tongue gathering up and cleaning his penis of their mingled leavings. Antonia's body still quivered in the aftershock of her no doubt numerous orgasms and her legs were sprawled apart, affording me a perfect view of her pussy, labia swollen and widespread with copious amounts of semen frosting her pink, wet flesh and oozing from her battered pussy. I could see her face from profile, hair and skin still gleaming with perspiration and even from my limited view, I could see her glancing lovingly up at her son's face and as I had the night before, suddenly and keenly felt like an intruder upon their intimacy. The Island of I Ch. 02 Quietly, I withdrew, creeping away somewhat shamefacedly, trying to control my emotions as I returned up the narrow staircase and emerged from the secret entrance into the upstairs hallway. Sighing with relief, I rushed to my room, locked my door and flung myself down onto my bed, sobbing finally as I released all the remaining pent up emotions that seemed to be welling up inside myself. It shames me somewhat to confess that as an eighteen year old man, I cried myself to sleep, both praying for and fearing what dreams might come in the night. # I awoke the next morning, somewhat astonished at feeling well rested and slightly disappointed as the closest I could recall of any erotic dreams was a faint memory of my mother's face, her voice calling out to me plaintively. Having showered and dressed for another day of sweaty labor, I hurried downstairs in anticipation of seeing Mother before I ventured off with Hector to clear the brush, but to my further disappointment, I found only Antonia with my breakfast at hand. When I asked about my mother, Antonia only shook her head and said, "Missus Halloran is feeling unwell this morning and is still in bed." This alarmed me and I started to rise from the breakfast table, my food and appetite forgotten. "Mother is ill?" Before I could leave my seat and rush upstairs, Antonia had her hand on me and with surprising strength, pushed me back down into my chair. She smiled down at me, her great bosom brushing my back as she said softly, "Be not alarmed, young Master. Your mother is just somewhat out of sorts this morning." She sighed and shook her head before adding, "This island...this terrible loneliness here can sometimes take its toll on a person." Antonia smiled and ran her hand through my scruffy hair as I had often seen her do with her own son. "Give her a little time, your mother. She will find her way and she knows that you will be there to help guide her." She leaned in and in almost a whisper, "In just a few days, your attentions have given her more happiness than she has ever known. I have seen this...a mother knows these things." She stroked my hair one more time and then gave me a playful slap on the head. "Now eat...it will be a busy day with much work and that smelly fisherman is due today too. Alas, that much was very true. Hector and I worked hard and silently for most of the morning, stopping only when the horn of the Vulgar Harpy began to bleat as it approached the island. Father emerged from his study, looking weary and irritable to oversee our unloading and carrying to the house fresh provisions. Father only shook off his weariness when Captain Waltern's men unload a small crate with labels that indicated it originated in Calcutta by way of La Plata and Veracruz. "My office, lads and hurry!" Father had exclaimed, nearly rubbing his hands together in what appeared to be demented happiness. The box was heavy and despite the two of us, it was a struggle to carry up from the beach and wrestle up the stairs to the second floor. No doubt, it was weighted down with musty, moldy old books. We placed it on the floor of Father's office -- suddenly aware that this was the first time either of us had been inside since the day we'd arrived. It had been some sort of study before, but now books and scrolls covered most every surface with charts and papers tacked to the walls. Some writing appeared to be in English while others were in arcane runes and ideographs. A handmade map sketched out a surface with rectangular objects in a rough circle and seemed highly reminiscent of the site Hector and I had been working for so long to clear. There was a faint smell of something fetid in the air -- possibly the remnants of a forgotten meal shoved into a nook or cranny, but seeming to be something worse. Hector looked around the room and with a frown, said quietly, "Your father travels a dark path, my friend." I gave him a curious glance and was about to ask him what he meant when Father appeared and banished us, commanding us to bring the rest of the fresh provisions up from the docks to the house and closing the door to his office behind him...our last glimpse was of him hungrily staring at the small crate. Captain Waltern was unpleasant but stayed only briefly after ascertaining that Mother would not emerge from the house. This was the only positive aspect of Mother secluding herself inside on what had proved to be a bright, sunny day. After our break for lunch, Hector and I resumed work, speaking little although we both occasionally glanced towards the veranda in hopes of seeing my mother. Finally, Hector signaled me to halt for a water break and as we passed the jug of cool water back and forth, he said, "You are troubled, John, yes?" I wasn't sure what to say and only nodded in response. "You are questioning your feelings for your mother?" Hector said with a sympathetic smile. "You have..." I paused for a moment searching for the correct words. "You have infected me with your sick thoughts and desires, Hector." I did not sound as accusatory as my words. Hector's smile broadened. "Ah...you now see your mother as a woman...as a man perceives a woman." He shook his head and sighed. "This is not sick, John, it is simply acknowledging that you are now a man with a man's desires and feelings and that you recognize your mother as a woman...a beautiful and desirable woman." My voice sounded thick as I muttered, "Like you feel for your mother." Hector dipped his head in acknowledgment and replied, "Absolutely and she returns my feelings of love with equal passion as you now well know." I gasped, feeling as if he'd hit me in the stomach, driving all the air out of me. I felt my face begin to burn and my voice was a harsh grate when I finally managed to answer him. "You know...you know that I've watched you and...your mother?" He shook his head and laughed, "Truthfully, I did not. Making love to a woman like my mother consumes all my effort and attention, but...Mama is different." He licked his lips and grinned wolfishly. "Even at the height of orgasm, when Mama's cunt tightens around my cock, she is still aware. She is what our people might call a Brujiho...a sort of witch. She perceived you watching us as we lost ourselves in our passion for each other...both at the mossy pond and last night in our bedroom." I could not look him in the eye, staring down at the torn up ground as I muttered, "I am sorry. I can offer no reasonable explanation." Hector waved his hand in dismissal. "Make no apologies, John. Mama and I take no offense. In our culture, to watch two people express their love in such a way is not wrong, but a celebration." Hector crossed to me and roughly squeezed my shoulder, making me look up to see the brilliant gleam in his eyes. "To be able to share our love for each other with another does nothing but enhance it, John. Mama told me that knowing you watched me fuck her hard last night made her climax all the more wonderful!" I felt my jaw drop in disbelief as I listened to his words. My head seemed to swim with this sudden scandalous and strange news and I shook it to try and clear the cobwebs from my brain. "Your people approve of incest. My god...who are your people? Incest is unacceptable everywhere!" Hector smiled and patted me on the back. "Not true, my friend, not true. Yes, most of your so called Christians find it immoral or evil, but even amongst them, there are enlightened ones who understand that incest is simply another expression of love. To my people, it is one of the higher, more advanced forms of human love with power beyond most human ken." Again, I pressed the question. "Who are "your people?" Hector smiled and said, "Mama and I are of the Jahndi." I shook my head in confusion. "Many people call us gypsies and there is truth there in that we are related to those lost people who are properly called the "Rom" or "Romany." But the truth is, we are only distantly related to them...tracing our ancestry back to a people who lived somewhere between Arabia and India in a land now lost beneath the waves of the sea. Like the Romany, we have been nomads, some searching for a new home and others roaming the world and trying to find our place in it or safeguarding against that which made us wanderers." "What on Earth might that be?" I asked, spellbound as if caught up in a child's fairy-tale. Hector shook his head and replied, "That is not for me to speak of. Someday, perhaps, Mama would tell you more. It is her place as a Bruhijo to speak of such things." I took a bit of time to digest this strangeness and we both wordlessly resumed work, tearing away the brush and vines, clearing yet another stone slab covered with runic markings. Finally, after forlornly glancing up at the still empty veranda, I said to Hector, "How long have you and your mother been...lovers?" Hector smiled widely at me and said, "Since I was your age, my friend...I happily took my father's place between Mama's legs when he died pursuing his obsession. I had dreamed of being Mama's man for a long time, but only after Papa's...end, did Mama invite me into her bed." I stopped working, a cold chill running down my spine. "How did your father die, Hector?" He paused in his work, a frown passing over his face. "It was in Mombasa...he delved too far into things that were beyond him." "What happened?" Hector began to speak, but then shook his head. "No, it is not my place to speak of such things...not yet. I will speak to Mama and if she deems it proper, she will tell you herself." I nodded, sensing that I was intruding somehow. I changed the topic, saying, "Are you...are you happy with your mother?" "Hector gave me an angelic smile. "It is the greatest joy one can know, one I pray that you will soon enjoy yourself." My stomach felt like butterflies were rampaging inside as I contemplated his words. "Surely not. Neither my mother or I would ever consider such a...a thing." Hector laughed and said, "You try and delude yourself, John. I have seen how you look at your mother...how with such longing you gaze at her since the moment you and she stepped off that smelly troll's boat." He leaned in to me and said in a confidential whisper, "And she looks at you too, you know, with passion and desire that grows with each passing day." I stepped back, feeling a thrill deep in my guts, yet also appalled. "You lie! Take it back!" I snapped defensively. Hector pursued me, a knowing grin on his face. "I speak the truth. Yesterday proved it. Have you ever known your mother to ever dress like she did yesterday...revealing so much of her lovely body?" In my mind, I could see Mother again -- dressed in those tight capri pants and braless under my old work shirt. "No," I said, replying barely above a whisper. Hector pressed his argument. "For two nights running, she and you took a private walk along the beach. Did you both act the whole time in such a way that was simply and innocently what you would consider the conduct of a proper mother and son?" I shivered as I recalled the feel of Mother's large, firm breast under my hand and the hardness of her throbbing nipple. "No" I replied again, barely audible. I heaved a great sigh and added more loudly, "But now she sequesters herself in her room, no doubt offended by my illicit attentions. What I might lust for will never be." I could barely keep a sob out of my voice, my pain at letting my mother slip from my embrace breaking through my resoluteness. Hector dropped his blade and draped an arm around my shoulders and said in a rush, "Do not despair, John...this is a difficult thing to do. Surpassing the narrow-mindedness of your upbringing to embrace such a different way of life takes a great deal of courage. You have this courage...so does your mother. I see it. Mama sees it. You have come a long way on your own...it is harder for your mother." His words provided something I had not realized I hungered for and also made suddenly and brilliantly clear about the travails Mother was enduring. "You mean...Father." Hector nodded and replied, "Yes. Mama feels that your father is lost to your mother now...that he travels his own way, ensorcelled by his own quest for knowledge. Your mother, may the Gods love her, tries to do right by him, but I think she begins to perceive that her love belongs to another...to you, John. Be patient and she will find her way into your arms." I confess then, I wept as Hector embraced me as a friend and brother, waiting patiently until I was spent and then clapping me on the back. "Enough, my friend. The day has been long and hard. Your father will not notice if we break off a little early." And so we did, slipping off to swim in the ocean, laughing and cavorting in the water until Antonia called us for dinner. Mother came down for our meal, but sat silent and unresponsive the entire time, making monosyllabic remarks to any questions or comments I had. Antonia gave me encouraging smiles as she brought in the various dishes, but Mother would barely meet my gaze as we dined and declined my offer to escort her on another walk. Mother's pale face darkened as she looked down towards my feet and murmured, "I...am not myself tonight, son. I believe I will simply turn in early." "Another time, perhaps," I said meekly, hoping for some positive comment, but Mother merely nodded and slipped away. I pushed my plate away and stared at the old, lace tablecloth until I realized Antonia was standing next to me...heat radiating from her body...from her bosom that hovered so close to my face. "Patience, boy...your mother is strong and wise, but much must be unlearned. New knowledge is like birth itself...never easy and often painful," she whispered softly, stroking my hair with her fingers. I looked up into her dark eyes, wanting to say so much, to ask so many questions but hadn't a clue how to begin. Antonia nodded and leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. "Hector says you two had a very good talk this afternoon...that your eyes are beginning to see many new things." I felt my skin begin to burn and knew I was turning red. "Yes, Ma'am," I replied meekly. Antonia laughed and hugged me to her, pressing my face into her soft, pillow-like bosom. I could smell her...a powerful, earthy scent mixed with cinnamon. I felt my penis...no, my cock, throb in response. "Soon your mother will see with such eyes and you and she will know the love, the joy," her voice suddenly grew huskier as she finished, "The pleasure that a mother and son can share. I look forward to the day that Hector and I might display our union to you both and who's to say who will take the most pleasure from it, your and your mother...or us." The voluptuous woman released me only to duck down and kiss me on the lips. "I liked you watching us...it made me feel more like a woman...like a mother than ever before. You need not hide and watch us, John Halloran. Our door will never be locked for you." She grinned lustily at me and winked once and then picked my plate up and walked off into the kitchen while I sat there in stunned silence and pondered her words. My evening passed slowly. I paced restlessly around my room and then in the study...hoping Mother might emerge from her self-imposed exile and at least be in the same room with me, both of us quietly reading as we had often done, but she never emerged. Walking the hall of the upstairs, I thought I heard Father laughing or talking to himself and I wondered if he would forgive an intrusion to talk with his son, but somehow I knew that that particular path would lead nowhere. I went downstairs and prowled around the grounds. I considered working on the pool, but the hour was growing late and I'd lost the light...peering down into the messy concrete, it took on a menacing quality, the bottom lost in shadow. I returned to the house and ambled around the kitchen, searching vainly for something that would satisfy the hunger that welled inside me, but I discovered no food that I coveted...instead, finding my attention drawn to the door leading to the servants' quarters. Antonia's words came back to me...no, truthfully they had echoed in my ears since she had spoken them to me after her soft kiss -- "Our door will never be locked for you." I sat at the kitchen table and toyed with the salt and pepper shakers resting there, unfolding and refolding a linen napkin a dozen times over, my eyes constantly wandering towards that door. Suddenly, I found myself standing before the door, my hand on the knob. My mouth was dry and my knees felt rubbery and weak. Part of me knew that this was wrong...immoral and sinful to even consider such actions. Still, at a loss over all that seemed out of reach in my life, I found myself opening the door and passing through. The hallway beyond and the rooms there seemed no different than those upstairs, save that it was narrower and peering into a servant's room, that they were much smaller. All seemed quiet as I moved further in and then I heard a soft, mewling sound from the far end of the hallway. The door to that room was closed, but I could see lights flickering from under the door and I cautiously made my way there -- passing a room which I presumed they used as their living area or study...books scattered about and an old record player with albums stacked neatly beside it. The sound became stronger and more pronounced. I perceived that it was Antonia's voice, although she spoke no words, but rather was simply making noise that was clearly an expression of pleasure. I paused for a moment at the door, nervous and scared although already I could feel my penis swelling in my pants. I tried the knob and it was unlocked and the door swung open easily, Antonia's moans smothered my own gasp as I gazed upon mother and son engaged in activity I had only heard of. Antonia was stretched out upon their large brass bed, her fingers wrapped around the brass rails of the head board, her naked body flexing and straining as she flung her hips upwards to more fully press her son's face into her wet and wide open pussy. Her immense breasts rolled about her chest, capped by hard swollen points of thick, rubbery flesh, darkened in her arousal. Hector was oblivious to my entry, so busy was he in swirling his tongue over and about his mother's sex, her slick, pink flesh almost pulsating with sexual energy while her thick bush scratched his cheeks, turning them an angry red. As his tongue slathered over a swollen appendage of flesh that I perceived was that almost mystical feminine organ called a clitoris, he was simultaneously thrusting two fingers in and out of her wet flesh, fingers gleaming with the juices of her arousal. His mother, deep in the throes of incestuous pleasure, still somehow managed to sense that they were not alone and she turned her dark, glazed over eyes towards me, offering up a leering smile of greeting. Antonia gradually managed to force free words from her sweetly tortured body, "Ohhhh yes, pleasure me well my son -- show our guest how a son properly treats his mother -- MMMMMMM -- his mother." Hector rolled slightly onto his side, his mouth never leaving his mother's pussy, his actions freeing his swollen erection, his penis long and thick and hard, throbbing with desire for his mother. He gave me an odd smile, his tongue never ceasing its loving caresses of Antonia's wet flesh, and after winking slyly at me, returned to focus on pleasuring his mother. Antonia's body shook with tremors of ecstasy as her son's mouth brought her closer and closer to heaven, but somehow she managed to gesture towards a chair pulled up close to their bed...awaiting a visitor...awaiting me and affording me a bird's eye view of their taboo lovemaking. The Island of I Ch. 02 I suddenly found myself sitting in that chair, close enough that I could see and smell the sweat pouring from their bodies which were emanating great heat and from between Antonia's thighs, a strong, arousing scent that made my member throb with terrible need. I had no recollection on opening my fly and freeing my erect penis, but suddenly I had it in my hand, stroking it feverishly as Antonia writhed on the bed in utter pleasure. I stroked my hard member, shivering with delight as I was enthralled at the sight of Antonia's pussy being so wet, gushes of her arousal flowing over her son's face as she bucked her pelvis against his face, her expression growing more frantic as his tongue worked busily over her pink, quivering flesh. "S-see, John...s-s-see how wonderful it can be buh-between mother and son?" Antonia moaned as one hand clawed the sheets while the other busily mauled her own breast, fingers pinching and tugging at her swollen nipple more brutally with each stroke of Hector's tongue. Antonia suddenly let out a tremendous cry as her body stiffened and then arched, her orgasm nearly bringing me to tears as she lifted her voluptuous behind off the bed, mashing her pussy against her son's face as he continued to lick her and thrust now three fingers deep inside her. Deftly he pulled his hand back and then reformed all his fingers into a long, blunt object and plunged his entire hand inside his mother's aroused vagina. Hector's mother's cries became a shriek and despite her sudden bucking and convulsing, his mouth somehow remained latched to Antonia's pussy even as he buried his hand inside her to the wrist. His mother sobbed and cried wordlessly, but even in the height of her incestuous climax, the noise that came from her puckered mouth still conveyed absolute love for her son. I felt my shame at being such an intrusive voyeur of such an intimate moment melt away as I became enthralled at such an exhibit of lust and love. I lost control myself and cried out as I too began to climax, barely moving fast enough to catch my sudden ejaculations in my free hand as I furiously stroked my spewing cock. I gasped right along with Antonia as she finally regained some semblance of control and she groaned, "I love you, Hector, my sweet beloved son." He murmured something unintelligible in reply, busy as he was lapping up his mother's copiously running juices of arousal, making her moan further in utter pleasure until she drew back one muscular and shapely leg and placing her foot on his shoulder, pushed him away. Hector laughed as he rolled over onto his back, his tongue rolling around his lips to scoop up her juices, his erection now towering in the air above him. Antonia gave me an odd, leering grin as she struggled up and threw her leg over her son's midsection, straddling him, his hard penis suddenly cushioned against her thick pelt of pubic hair. She took it in her hand and stroked it, rising up on her knees to run the swollen crown between her broadly parted labia and although I could no longer see my friend's face as his mother sat astride him facing me, I knew from his groans that he was enjoying her wetness and warmth. Antonia's breasts rose and fell entrancingly as she still struggled to regain her breath and her words were measured and clipped and so full of hungry desire as she spoke. "You see the beauty, the wonder that is a mother and a son fucking, yes, John?" She inserted the head of his penis inside her, moving his shaft around in a circular motion as if stirring up her flowing juices. "Let yourself go, sweet boy...know that a mother and a son are also man and woman and that lust coupled with love is POWER!" she cried out, screaming the last word." She lowered herself slowly onto his swollen shaft, sobbing as she became impaled on her son's erection. Antonia already lingered close to orgasm from Hector's oral attentions and now filled with his swollen penis, she wriggled atop him, barely able to control herself as ecstasy raced through her body. She ran fingers over her swollen lips -- mouth hanging open in utter bliss and I watched as her nipples swelled to the point of bursting and then she had all of her son inside her and was arching her back, thrusting her immense breasts up and outward and she began to wail from all the pure and unadulterated pleasure that fucking her son could bring. Her scent -- already thick in their bedroom, grew stronger, inflaming my senses as I inhaled her powerful musk, making my aching cock throb all the harder. Antonia came slowly out of the mindless bliss of her incestuous orgasm and began to ride Hector, sighing and crying as she moved up and down on him -- his long shaft glistening with her wetness. In between moans of "I love you, son," came those unrecognizable words I had on previous nights, "MATRE TIAMBO UN UMANO UN ESTASIUM VICTRE DIABLAS!" Over and over, Hector's mother chanted those words when she could manage to do more than moan at the pleasure her son's cock was providing. Each time, the chant seemed to emerge from her mouth more loudly and possessing more energy -- more power...power that washed over me and like the scent of her pussy, seemed to fuel my own lust. Antonia rode her son harder, sliding up and down on his cock with growing passion and need -- her breasts bouncing wildly, her groping, teasing fingers unable to control them. Her face became something between a snarl and a wail as orgasm took her higher and higher until she began screaming shrilly and in her glorious climax, sank weakly down on his cock which seemed to heighten her orgasm and make her loose control as she flopped weakly about atop her son. In the beauty of such sexual abandon, I groaned almost in time with Hector and knew that we were both climaxing at the same time, inspired by his mother's incredible display of sexual delight. Again, I cupped my already semen filled hand and ejaculated torrent after torrent of hot seed, my orgasm so violent and hard that my cock ached pleasurably. I glanced down at the semen overflowing my hand from having climaxed twice and then looked up again just in time to see Antonia slide off her son, a nearly obscene and wet noise coming from their joined crotches as her son's still mostly erect cock slid free of her sperm filled cunt and she pitched forward and fell face down between his legs. Mother and son lay motionless for several minutes, catching their breath. Hector spared me a glance and grinned proudly as he eyed his mother's voluptuous behind resting below his crotch. Antonia turned her head to look sleepily at me, not speaking, but telling me with her smile how much she had enjoyed having sex with her son. My desire to see Hector and his mother make love...no, fuck, slowly became overpowered by my sense that I was again an intruder, viewing the aftermath of a very intimate scene. On shaky legs, I rose to my feet. I awkwardly tried to put my semi-hard penis back into my pants, but found it difficult with one hand holding a great quantity of my slowly cooling semen. My efforts came to a complete stop when Antonia said in a lust thickened voice, "John, come here." I looked at her with panic in my eyes and then glanced around for something...a towel or tissue to wipe my hand off. "Don't you dare, boy!" Antonia intoned, her eyes filled with a dangerous fire. "Come here!" she repeated. Antonia rose up slightly - her immense breasts flattening against the mattress, resembling huge pillows upon which she rested. "I presume much in this," she said as she reached out and gently tucked me back inside my pants, carefully zipping up my fly. "I would prefer to have your mother's permission before handling your lovely cock, John," she said softly as she reached and took hold of my wrist, drawing my cum filled hand towards her face. "But, I will not allow such nectar of the gods to go to waste." She smiled up at me and I could feel the mother's love that Hector had known all his life. She bent her head over my cupped palm, straightening out my fingers before she began to lap my semen up with her tongue, slowly lowering her lips to my palm and smearing my seed over her mouth as her tongue swirled and scooped up the thick pool of sperm. I felt my cock twitch in arousal as Antonia made appreciative noises about the taste of my seed. Antonia licked my hand clean, giving it one final, loving lick before releasing me. "Thank you, John Halloran," she said thickly, streamers of my semen still thick in her mouth. "T-thank you, Missus Antonia," I gasped, my head swimming so much, I could barely keep to my feet. Hector's mother slowly and lithely, much reminding me of a big, sleep cat, moved about to cuddle with her son. "Go rest now, John. Great and demanding days lie ahead and you will need your strength." Her eyes gleamed as she rested her head on her son's chest. "You will need to be strong for yourself and your mother." I wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but she had already closed her eyes and seemed to have instantly fallen asleep, a small and pleased smile on her still semen smeared lips. Hector nodded reassuringly at me and closed his eyes as I retreated and quietly left their bedroom. I don't remember climbing the stairs and I don't remember coming to a halt before Mother's bedroom door. How long I stood there I didn't know. I ached to knock on the door, to enter and declare my love and my lust for the woman who'd given me birth, but I couldn't. With the memories of Antonia and her son in my head and with visions of my desires for mother so vivid, they almost seemed real, I slowly retreated to my bedroom, falling into bed in a state of near exhaustion. As sleep took me, I wondered what my dreams might be filled with in the late hours of the night. # I became suddenly awake in my bed...aware that I had fallen asleep without having even bothered to undress. I was also aware that I was not alone. I sat up and looked around...the room dim, but not dark as the full moon's light streamed through my open window, curtains fluttering in the mild breeze, the smell of the ocean thick in my room. Movement caught my eye and out of the shadows stepped my mother...naked as the day she was born. My voice died in my throat as I took in her unclothed beauty...her blonde hair, gleaming like gold in the moonlight, undone and hanging down over her shoulders, falling to the center of her back. A few golden tresses brushed her firm and sizable breasts, calling my attention to their magnificence -- thick and long nipples standing out, hard and firm themselves. Below her high riding breasts, Mother's stomach was lean and flat before it swelled slightly, revealing a mat of golden curls shaped like and inverted triangle, pointing towards her sex, her labia long and thick and slightly parted, glistening flesh within twinkling in the nighttime light of the moon. "Son," she breathed slowly, holding out her arms to me. "I love you, son." I was out of the bed, feeling my penis becoming instantly erect, throbbing with a sweet ache. I was spellbound as Mother moved towards me even as I realized that there was something out of the ordinary. I first perceived it as I realized that I could see moonbeams coming through my mother, giving her an ethereal quality and then that her body left tendrils of wispy vapor as she almost floated towards me. My first reaction was that I was dreaming and then Mother's fingers plucked at my clothes, almost tearing them from my body and then I was naked as she closed with me, wrapping her arms around my neck as she drew me in for a kiss. Her touch was warm and moist and somehow unsettling, not that it mattered as I felt her erect nipples scratch across my bare chest and she drew her lips closer to mine. "Mother," I whispered. "I love you so much!" "I love you, son...so much that I ache for you," she breathed into my mouth and then she was kissing me, her tongue long and serpentine, winding around mine with knowledge and agility that stunned me into utter compliance. Mother drew a leg up and wrapped it behind my thigh, drawing herself up, revealing how wet and aroused she was from the liquid heat emanating from between her legs, her...pussy, yes, Mother's pussy feeling so incredibly hot and slick as she seemed to climb up my body, almost crooning with pleasure into my mouth. Her sex enveloped my erection and swallowed it, making me cry out as she took me inside herself...so wet and so tight...so wonderful. Mother threw her head back and gave a soulful cry as she lowered herself onto me, her legs now wrapped around my hips, pulling me into her, deeper and deeper and so terribly hot and wet. Flames burned in Mother's eyes, red fire extinguishing their brilliant view as she moaned, "Fuck me, John! Fuck your mother!" Reality seemed to fade around us and we were in a misty realm where even our bodies seemed to dissipate and then reform. Mother's pussy was wrapped totally around my cock, taking all of me as she ground her sparsely haired mound against my wiry pubic hair, holding me so tight as her pussy pulsed and massaged my erect penis. She kissed me again, her mouth wet and eager, her tongue seeming to grow and envelop mine. I tasted her saliva...her essence and then I realized I could taste her arousal and it seemed as if my tongue was swirling inside her pussy even as she slowly rode my cock. Her flesh was warm and slick around my face, her scent strong -- stronger than Antonia's had been, my nose tickling her wrinkled folds as I lapped at her labia and flicked my tongue over her swollen clitoris. In a state that was more dreamlike yet real than any dream I could ever recall, I seemed perfectly happy to be somehow licking my mother's pussy even as I fucked her wet and tight pussy. Mother's juices flowed over my face, soaking my chin and running off to splatter on our chests, making her skin slicker and hotter with each passing second. Her whole body seemed to pulse with need and desire, showering my skin with pussy juice even as her arms and legs and torso seemed to expand and surround me. My head swum in the maddening aroma of my mother's aroused cunt that seemed to be all around me as wet, slick flesh devoured me until my world was nothing but Mother's cunt -- wrapped around my cock, with my face buried in it, slurping up her juices ravenously and inside her, her quivering pussy walls caressing every inch of my body as I experienced undreamed of pleasure. All the while I could somehow hear Mother's thoughts echoing, nay, screaming inside my head, begging, demanding, insisting that I fuck her...that I fuck my mother forever...that she loved me more than life itself and all she wanted was to have me inside her for all eternity! Pleasure built for both of us and within the only reality I could comprehend -- the reality of my mother's sweet pussy I finally began to cum and cum like never before, gushing what seemed to be hundreds of gallons of semen inside her even as she reached climax as well, coating me, coating my world with her sweet juices that were they to drown me, I would die contented. As we orgasmed, our world became a white hot thing, exploding with uncontainable pleasure until it obliterated all senses and the entire universe became incestuous pleasure. "I LOVE YOU, MOM!" I screamed, and then I gasped as suddenly I was once again in the real world -- a cold and forlorn place after the perfect existence that was my mother's pussy. Tears began to streak down my face as I realized I was in my room, in my bed. I was naked and lying in a pool of my own seed, now quickly cooling. A sob forced its way past my lips as I realized that it had been a dream...a dream I had never wanted to leave, forced to return to a much harsher world. Even the morning sunlight now streaming through my bedroom window seemed ugly and coarse. I brought my hands to my face to wipe my eyes and stopped as the odor filled my nostrils. I reeked of...for lack of a better word, pussy. I ran fingers down each arm, feeling the remnants of something, still wet and sticky in places, dry in others. Running my hands through my hair, they came back glistening with drying sweat and something else...something that I knew on the most primal and instinctual level was pussy juice and not simply pussy juice, but my mother's pussy juice! As when I had discovered the knees dirty and torn on my pajama bottoms, just a few days before, the world seemed to tilt and slid out of kilter, my mind wanting to hide and gibber as it suddenly knew that things were not as they should be. I eased from the bed, amazed at how sticky my crotch was with my own sperm. I stripped and stumbled to my shower, standing under the hot water till my skin felt scalded, both grateful to be clean and mourning the loss of Mother's enchanting aroma. I stripped the bed and remade it with fresh linens, shivering as echoes of my dreams, if that was truly what it was, flickered in and out of my mind. Questions of what was real fought with questions regarding my own sanity as I worked up the courage to finally venture downstairs. In the hallway, I noticed Mother's door was open, her bed made and the room empty. Encouraged by this, I hurried on down the stairs to the kitchen, my heart growing lighter as I neared as I heard my mother's muffled voice. I went quickly through the door only to come to a sudden stop as I was confronted by the sight of Mother sitting at breakfast, a thin, but modest robe wrapped around her body, while Antonia hovered nearby. To my surprise, Father was at the other end of the table, standing with a wrinkled map and pointing out something to Hector who stood looking over his shoulder. "John...good morning," Mother said softly, her face reddening as if embarrassed. She gave me a weak smile and then looked down at her plate of half-eaten food. Father looked up, a frown on his face. "About time, boy. You've slept the morning away. There is work to be done." He pointed down at the map. "Come here, John." "Work can wait. Breakfast first, Mister Halloran, murmured Antonia, giving me an evil smile that recalled to us both the lewd scenes of last night. Father made a snorting noise and then said as I approached, "Here...you and Hector will clear away the brush here today." He pointed down and I saw that there was a relatively new sheet of paper with our work mapped out on it, resting atop a much larger and much older map. The newer map had sketched out the marble slabs we'd uncovered, revealing their circular pattern. Father's finger lingered on a blank area between the nearly dozen slabs we'd found. "I believe the altar lies hidden here in all the undergrowth. I fidgeted nervously at his side, sparing Mother a long, yearning look as I said in a hoarse voice, "Altar?" Father nodded impatiently. "Yes...yes, the altar that Isprey used in his summoning MUST be here! It has to be. Concentrate here today...let me know as soon as you've uncovered it!" He pointed to the older map and I realized it was very similar, marking out the marble slabs and separating them in the middle of the semi-circle's arc was something larger -- his altar, I supposed. Father grinned then for the first time in a long time in my memory. He surprised me by suddenly clapping me on the shoulder. "We're so close, John! So close....people have laughed and snickered at me, but not for much longer...no, they won't..." His voice faded into unintelligible mumbling and his eyes were suddenly clouded with emotions that chilled me to the core. Suddenly, Father gathered up his maps and said, "Summon me the moment you've uncovered it, John...the very moment." He began to stride towards the door, returning I assumed to his office. Mother raised her voice and said, "At least stay and have breakfast with us, Thomas...it's been so long since we sat down as a family and spent time together." The Island of I Ch. 02 Father paused and then violently shook his head. "No time, Carmen. There is no time! My work must continue...I must finish it so. I must be prepared." He turned and even as my mother called out to him, imploring him to stay awhile, he marched out the door, his footsteps heard a moment later, bounding up the stairs. As Antonia returned with my breakfast, Mother sighed heavily, her eyes tearing up as she again stared down unhappily into her lap. Hector disappeared back into the kitchen and Mother and I finished our breakfast in an uncomfortable silence. As I was finishing up, Mother excused herself and headed towards the stairs. Antonia, gathering up Mother's plate, gave me a knowing stare and turned her eyes towards Mother's exiting figure before nodding at me. I understood her expression and leapt up from my seat and hurried after my mother. I caught up to her at the bottom of the staircase. "Mother, are you feeling better?" Mother's body shivered slightly at the sound of my voice and she turned, her face reddening again as she looked down at me from the stairs. Maybe it was my imagination or my own desires, but it seemed as if Mother's nipples seemed to harden under her robe, becoming noticeable. In an uncertain voice, she replied, "I'm...I'm feeling better, I think. My sleep has been...strange, but I am feeling more rested this morning." A faint smile played across her lips and she added, "I feel a little more relaxed." I grinned back and said, "I am so glad, Mother. I have missed you so much. Perhaps you would care to take a stroll this evening. The fresh air might do you good." Mother's face turned redder and her hands fluttered around her throat, fingering the collar of her modest robe. "I...I'm not sure, son. We...um, I, well, let's see how I feel this afternoon." She made to move on up the stairs, but I closed in, moving to the step below her and placing my hand on hers on the polished wood rail. "I hope you do feel up to it, Mother. I've...I've missed our times together." I tightened my hand around hers...wanting to say so much, but unable to put it into words that seemed adequate. "I've missed you, Mother." Mother looked down at her feet, unable to bring her eyes to face my earnest expression. "I missed spending time with you too, John," she said softly, finally bringing her brilliant blue eyes to my face. She reached out and stroked a finger down my cheek and whispered, "Maybe, son. Maybe." Then, pulling from my hand's grip, Mother hurried up the stairs as I watched, aching to take her lithe form in my arms. The day passed slowly as Hector and I labored hard and silently to clear away the brush according to Father's instructions. It proved more difficult than usual as the plant growth was denser and thornier as we tried to find the supposed structure it hid. Early on, I had sensed in Hector a desire to discuss the previous night's events, but there was a storm on my brow that perhaps influenced his decision to not bring it up. After a mute lunch, we were both angry and frustrated with our slow amount of progress, our ire enhanced in late afternoon as the sun began to set and Father showed up to inspect our progress or as he perceived it, a lack thereof. With a walking stick, Father poked and prodded at the brush, muttering over and over, "You must be close, lads. Just a little more effort!" "Sir, tomorrow...I think tomorrow, we will have it," panted Hector, his olive complexion shiny with the sweat of hard labor. "Damn it all!" growled Father. "I've waited so long. It must be here. It's all so plain to me. I must have it!" He paced about in frustration, still peering into the dense foliation and I expected him to insist we continue working, but Antonia appeared on the porch and cried out. "Enough, come clean up and eat!" My father frowned her way, but I sensed that he was not willing to challenge her on this. Hector and I happily abandoned our labors, going to the beach for a quick and refreshing dip before returning to the house, anxious to dine with our respective mothers. I was delighted to see Mother sitting at the dinner table, dressed in a long, sky blue dress with an entrancing and plunging V- neckline that tied behind her neck, drawing attention to her breasts which appeared to be unfettered by a bra, and her bare shoulders. Her golden hair was again, pinned up in several complicated tresses, a jeweled comb holding the contrivance together. My delight at Mother's lovely appearance was diluted as Father had joined us again, complete with Maps and two well used journals. At his insistence, Antonia and Hector joined us as he wanted to emphasize and re-emphasize the importance of uncovering his precious altar. With some reluctance, the housekeeper and her son brought in their food and joined us at the table where Father dominated the conversation. "I imagine just a few more days will change everything" he gushed. "Once we have the very altar that Isprey used for his "Summoning," all the pieces will be in place. I can prove he was actually here and that he did indeed attempt to call the "Old Ones." Mother tried to join his conversation by saying, "I'm sure you've told me before, Thomas, but what exactly are these "Old Ones?" Antonia muttered under her breath as Father sighed and replied, "No one knows for sure. Gods, maybe, perhaps they are beings from outside our universe. Isprey and others write of their immense power...magic perhaps, but possessing power that if conveyed to mortals would allow them rule empires and know wealth beyond imagination. Isprey speculated that such power could convey immortality." Mother smiled slightly and said, "And he attempted his "summoning? Was he successful?" Father frowned. "No...there are conflicting accounts of what happened. He...um, apparently died. The manuscript indicates that he was..." Father's voice took on a dream-like quality, "The Anglander was taken by the daemon and in inhumane fury were torn to pieces and consumed by an unholy fire. The daemon's shrieks ripped his soul apart and likewise consumed it in great fury." "My God," murmured Mother. "And you wish to recreate this "Summoning?" She looked appalled. Father laughed and said, "My research indicates that he lacked vital information on the ceremony...information that I have obtained at great expense." He glanced at Antonia who was tracing something in the air as if warding off a hex. He blushed and frowned before shrugging his shoulders and saying, "I simply want to prove that Isprey indeed was here and attempted the "Summoning," that's all." "You dabble in things dark and terrible, Mister Halloran," murmured Antonia in a low and serious voice. "Knowledge unwisely gained and unwisely used is dangerous." "Mind your place, Antonia and remember. This was Vincizio's desire as well." Mother gasped at the harsh tone in Father's voice, but Antonia did not seem fazed as she replied, "And now Vincizio is dead...destroyed by his own quests for things best left hidden in the darkness of ignorance." Father stood up and gathered his books and materials in his arms. "This is not a debate, Antonia. Leave it be or be prepared to leave the next time Captain Waltern visits." Hector began to stand, but halted at a simple hand gesture from his mother. Still, his eyes burned with anger at the superior and arrogant tone in Father's voice. Antonia smiled coldly and replied, "No...that will not be necessary, Mister Halloran. I will stay and serve as best I can." Father muttered, "Fine...excuse me, I have much to do." He stalked to the door, pausing to look back and glare at Hector and myself. "Get cracking early tomorrow. I want that altar found!" he snapped before disappearing, his footsteps on the stairs echoing strangely as he went upstairs. There was a long silence in the room as Mother and I exchanged concerned glances and then she looked to Antonia and said, "I apologize for Thomas' words. I fear he sometimes loses himself in his work. He so badly wishes to vindicate himself in the eyes of his critics who have laughed at his theories for so long." Antonia came around the table and placed a hand on Mother's bare shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze and saying, "There is no need to apologize. I understand his...desires and the pain his work has brought you. You and I have traveled the same path with our husband's shared quests for...knowledge." She caressed Mother's shoulder again, arousing in me an unexpected emotion of lewd desire that made my penis throb. Mother smiled up at Antonia and whispered, "Thank you." She dropped her linen napkin on the table and pushed back from the chair to stand up -- Hector and I rising quickly as was only good form. "Please, continue to eat, boys. I fear...I've lost my appetite. Excuse me." "Mother, I..." My voice went silent as Antonia fixed me with her dark eyes and slightly shook her head. My mother glanced back at me once, trying to smile and I could see the tears pooling in her eyes and I ached to go to her and hold her in my arms. When she left, Antonia came over to me and gently stroked my cheek. "Give her a little bit, John. She needs a brief moment to compose herself...your father has embarrassed her...maybe frightened her a little. Go up after you finish eating. She will be more ready to have you with her then." I nodded and returned to my food, picking at it as I found I'd lost my appetite as well." Hector finished up and nodded at me, offering me courage in his smile and told his mother he would begin the cleanup in the kitchen so they might turn in early. Antonia nodded and lingered close by after he left. Finally, she slipped into the chair next to me and placing her hand on my leg, said softly, "John, you have questions, I think. Ask them." I shook my head for a moment as all my thoughts tried to be first. There was so much I wanted to know about her and Hector and their incestuous life together. But for all my curiosity about them and about what might happen to Mother and me, I found myself chiefly concerned with Father. "Is Father going mad?" I was surprised with the concern that was more than evident in my voice. Antonia shook her head and replied, "No...not mad, I think...although a man who abandons his family to travel a road as dark as his cannot be considered altogether sane." "What is he pursuing, Antonia?" She pursed her lips together, her eyebrows knotting as she studied on how to reply. Finally, she answered with, "Knowledge, John. Your father pursues dark knowledge from man's earliest times...knowledge that can bring power and which can open the door for terrible evil." "What is Father trying to do?" Antonia reached into a pocket and took out a small object on a beaded chain and kissed it, whispered something under her breath as she then put it away. "There is a power imprisoned here on this island. It is ancient and terrible and it is not from this world. It is from...outside. Your father wishes to master it for his own purposes as this Anglo Saxon, Isprey once attempted. If he attempts it and fails to control this power, it can go terrible for your father." "And if he succeeds?" Antonia shivered. "Then he would do what many have tried to do for ten millennia, but that too would be terrible and in the end, it will consume him and the Earth might endure devastation worse than any in memory." That sounded alarming. "What do you mean by devastation?" She sighed and looked away towards a window that looked out upon the terrible Atlantic. "Hector told you that he and I are of the Jahndi...a homeless people?" I nodded and she sighed again. "Long ago, the Jahndi lived in a lush and fertile land, but a prince of our homeland lusted for power and attempted to harness Outsiders and their strength. Our high priests gave battle to these evil things and banished most of them from our universe, but the price...the devastation sent our homeland sinking into the sea...a proper burial for a land that reeked of death and evil. "My father wants...that?" There must have been a great deal of anguish in my voice because Antonia returned her gaze to my face and stroked my cheek again. "Do not be afraid, John. It will not happen. Love will protect you." She leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips. "Remember and hold your love for your mother in your heart. Keep faith in her and yourself and no harm can come to you." "How?" I whispered. "Just love your mother...keep her close in terrible times and never, ever let her go. Your love for each other will sustain you through the worst of times." I confess that confusion, mixed with fear, filled my heart and my mind and I felt no clearer about things than when I had first begun asking her questions. Part of me wanted to believe that Antonia was as mad as I feared my father was, but part of me worried that maybe part of me was being seduced into a greater madness of impure lust as my desires for Mother increased and I found myself more and more aroused by the illicit love that Antonia and her son shared. Antonia studied my face and nodded. "So much to learn about in so short a time, eh? Enough for now -- go to your mother, John. She needs you now. She needs to know how much you love her." She stood up and ran her hands through my hair. She leaned down and kissed the top of my head and then turned and walked away into the kitchen, not looking back. I sat for a moment, struggling to comprehend what was the right thing to do, but abandon all pretense as I hurried upstairs, eager to find my mother. I found Mother in our sitting room, still wearing her blue dress with a book unopened resting in her lap. She turned at the sound of my footsteps. There was a pained expression of something nearly undefined in her face, although I was hoping it was longing for me. "John," she sighed and held out her hand. I was across the room and kneeling at her feet before she could blink, taking her hand in mine and gently bringing it to my lips for a soft kiss. "Mother," I began. "I am so glad to see you feeling better." I could not help but let my gaze wander from her brilliant blue eyes to roam appreciatively over her lush body encased in the clingy, light blue dress. Her full breasts were great round orbs straining against the fabric of her dress -- her nipples fully visible against the thin material of the dress. Her bare shoulders looked so delectable, my mouth almost watered at the thought of kissing them...of running my tongue teasingly along her flawless, alabaster skin. Mother started to reply and then hesitated, looking down towards the book in her lap as if she couldn't bear my hungry stare. "I'm sorry if I worried you, John," she said in almost a whisper. "I have been disconcerted...things...my feelings about things have been so confused lately." I squeezed her hand gently and again kissed it as I voiced my worst fears. "Mother, if I have done anything to offend you...I'm truly sorry and I pro..." I stopped speaking as Mother pressed two fingers against my lips and shook her head. "Do not speak of such things...not here. But son, you should know that you have no cause to reproach yourself." Neither of us spoke for a moment and I was torn between elation and fear as I wondered what was on Mother's heart. She matched my longing gaze for a moment and then turned and looked out the great bay window of the room that provided a brilliant view of the ocean. "It is getting dark, but the moon is so lovely." I followed her gaze and saw the moon, still full and bright hanging over the dark waters of the Atlantic. My mouth was dry in my nervousness as I rasped, "Mother, would you like to take a walk on the beach...if you feel up to it?" Mother shivered and bit her lip, still looking away from me as she closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. I suddenly realized how attractive Mother's slight overbite was. "John...I...I..." She paused and then turned her head sharply and looked into my eyes with something ravenous shining in her eyes. "Yes...I would like to take a walk on the beach with you, son." To be continued... The Island of I Ch. 03 Here is the final installment of the Island of I. I'm very pleased with everyone's response and I hope you find the climax of my story to your liking and I look forward to your comments, both pro and con. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters within are works of fiction as well. Enjoy! Pleased that my mother had agreed to yet another walk along the moonlit beach, I slowly stood up, never releasing my mother's hand and helped her rise from her seat. Not saying a word, she slipped her arm through my mine and we slowly walked into the hallway and down the stairs, not sparing Father's office where we could hear him talking to himself, any attention at all. Neither of us spoke as we left the house and walked down the dimly lit path to the beach. In the sand, we both kicked off our shoes and made our way north, trudging along at the edge of the surf, letting the spray soak the cuffs of my pants and the hem of Mother's dress. We walked quite a ways...maybe a mile or more, far from house. At some point, I slipped my arm around Mother's waist and she leaned into me as we walked, resting her head against my chest, her body feeling warm, almost feverish against me. The full moon seemed to follow us and a small thought flickered through my mind that surely since our first walk on the beach, the Moon should have begun to wane, but it still looked as full and as brilliant as that first night. That thought was soon lost as more pressing matters weighed on my mind, all regarding the woman I was holding so intimately. We stopped at the surf's edge, the waves gently rolling in and Mother stared up at the gibbous moon and murmured, "It is so beautiful...so lovely." I gently reached out and took Mother's arm and turned her so she was facing me. Slowly, I ran a hand up her arm, fingers trailing over her soft skin...her bare shoulder and finally stroking her cheek. "You're beautiful, Mother," I said in a gentle, but stern voice. "You are the loveliest woman I've ever seen." I felt Mother shiver again as her arms rose up and slipped around my waist. She slowly leaned into me as if she needed me to support herself. I could feel her heart beating very fast within her breast and she almost seemed to vibrate with expectant energy as she whispered, "Oh, son." We stood embracing for what seemed hours, not speaking as we looked into each other's eyes, until finally our mouths seemed to move closer together as if drawn together by some irresistible force. Mother's lips pressed against mine, soft and warm and open. Instinctively I slipped my tongue into her mouth only to have it greeted by hers...a muffled moan escaping from her as we kissed as we had both longed to kiss. Mother tasted sweet, almost citrus-like as our tongues curled around each other, slowly sliding their wet, soft flesh against each other. I pulled her tighter against me even as she tightened her grip around my waist, her left leg rising up alongside mine until the sole of her foot was resting high on the back of my calf. Like starving beings, we feasted on each other's lips, kissing hungrily, passionately as our tongues kept us linked, neither of us closing our eyes, our gazes as tightly locked as were our lips. I felt Mother shiver in my arms...from fear or passion or both, I did not know. She began to sag, her legs unable to support her and I slowly lowered us both to our knees so that we knelt in the gentle surf, our kiss never ending. Mom brought one arm up and stroked my face, then ran fingers through my hair before curling her arm around my neck, making little contented sighs as we continued to kiss. For my part, my hands worked circles in her back, feeling the tension there. Slowly, I slid them down to her lower back and then back up and then down again, this time not pausing until my hands were cupping her buttocks, now wet from the water that swirled around us. The kiss continued on with a life of its own, our frantic tongues in sharp contrast with our gentle loving caresses of each other's body. I brought my hands back up Mother's back to caress her bare shoulders and then the exposed curve of her neck and then into her pinned up hair. I plucked the jeweled comb from her hair, momentarily recalling it as an anniversary present from Father several years ago. Impulsively, I tossed it over my shoulder into the sand and ran my fingers through Mother's silky, blonde hair, letting it fall out and down. Mother's fingers plucked at my shirt, unbuttoning it and then pulling it out of my slacks and spreading it wide to expose my chest, her fingers caressing my chest, now showing muscular definition from weeks of work. Mother broke the kiss, nipping at my lips with her mouth and then ducked her head and began planting kisses on my chest, her tongue teasing me as she took little licks as she moved her lips over my skin. "Oh, Mother," I breathed. "I love you so much!" As I felt my mother's lips brush over my small but hard nipples, my hands slipped upwards over her shoulders to the back of her neck to find the ties of her halter dress and begin to fumble at the knot there. I'm sure it wasn't a difficult thing to untie, but one must consider how distracted I was as I felt Mother's mouth sucking at my pebbled nipple. Finally, I felt the strings of her halter slip free and taking hold of Mother's shoulders I leaned her back as she stared lustily at me, looking down with surprise as she watched me peel down her top, revealing her firm and large rounded breasts, so much like large melons and capped by dark, thick nipples that stood out against her milky pale flesh. Now half naked, Mother looked back up at my face, an expression of arousal mixed with apprehension on her face. "Mother," I whispered again as my hands came up again, pausing just short of cupping her fleshy breasts, so anxious to touch her, yet not sure if I should. Mother resolved my dilemma by bringing her hands up and guiding mine onto her breasts, softly moaning as my fingers dug into her meaty flesh, her nipples hard and pulsating with her desire. "I love you, John," Mother whispered as I fondled her breasts, again moving against me so we could kiss, her lips hungrily pressing against mine as she kissed me passionately. My sense of the world faded, leaving only my mother and me, with only the brilliant light of the full moon and the strangely warm waters of the surf seeming to intrude on us and truthfully, both serving to enhance the beauty of the moment. After an eternity of kissing and caressing each other's upper body, I felt Mother's right hand slid downwards, over my flat stomach to press against my crotch. "Oh my, John," Mother moaned, breaking our kiss again, delight evident in her voice as my desire for her was confirmed as she pressed her hand against the erection in my pants. "You...son...you're hard for me?" "For you, Mother," I gasped as she rubbed my erect penis through my pants. "All my desires...all my love is for you, Mother!" Mother half laughed and half sobbed as she kissed me again, her hand still caressing my erection as I continued to fondle her breasts. A few minutes later or maybe it was a lifetime, I found the courage to drop my right hand downwards, gathering the folds of her dress together, pulling the material together in search of the hem. Finally, I found it, now sopping wet from the ocean surf and slipped my hand under, coming to rest on Mother's bare thigh. At my touch, Mother shivered and then moaned softly against my lips. Slowly, I worked my hand up her thigh, feeling the silky softness as my fingertips slipped across her inner thigh and then encountered her silky and wet pelt of pubic hair. Mother stiffened against me as she felt her son's fingers slip between the hot, slick lips of her labia. This time it was my turn to break the kiss as I leaned back, feeling saliva from Mother's mouth splatter against my chin. I gazed on my mother in all her aroused glory, looking like something from an erotic painting, her heavy breasts illuminated in the moonlight – heaving heavily as she gasped for breath as she watched me gazing at her...so lovely with her halter dress fallen to her waist and her blonde hair hanging down over her shoulders. I looked at her with love and amazement as it slowly dawned on me that Mother had left the house sans panties...something that seemed lewd and exciting at the same time. I leaned in, moving my head downwards and latched my lips around a swollen nipple, feeling Mother moan, "Yesssss!" as I rolled my tongue over the swollen, turgid member, feeling her blood pulsing through her body...her heart, her life so intensely evident. Mother stiffened again and she gasped, "Oh, John...I'm your mother!" as I slipped two of my fingers inside her...the first time I had actually touched a woman's aroused pussy...delighting in the sticky, wet warmth that tightened around my probing digits and delighting in the wicked knowledge that it was my mother's most secret place that I was touching. As I suckled at my mother's breast for the first time in nearly two decades, almost primal memories suffused with pleasure wafted close to the surface of my mind and I felt a contentment swelling within me that I had never known before, reconnecting with my mother at an intimate level that only a mother and child could achieve, now sweetened with the sexual pleasure that it produced. All my worries and concerns seemed to vanish as I sucked Mother's breast and fingered her wet pussy. New sensation awoke inside me as I felt movement around my crotch and realized with delighted shock that Mother had unzipped my pants and had slipped her fingers inside and had found my erection while her other hand undid the button and tugged my pants and underwear off, freeing my penis which she slowly stroked as she whispered in frightened awe, "John...you, your penis, is lovely and so big!" With awkward knowledge, Mother slowly ran her hand back and forth along the shaft of my erect penis and I could sense growing confidence with each stroke. I groaned with pleasure at how her hand felt on my swollen member. Mother cried out in surprise as I playfully bit her nipple before letting it slip from my mouth and then I took advantage of her open-mouthed cry and kissed her again as I began to finger her pussy more vigorously, savoring the sudden gush of her juices pouring around my fingers. Frantically, we masturbated each other, suddenly filled with the desire to pleasure the other – my fingers exploring the inner walls of her vagina, eagerly seeking to discover Mother's most special and sensitive places as each time she moaned appreciatively into my mouth, I felt an never before experienced thrill of pleasure ripple through me, intensifying the pleasure her hand was bringing me as it moved up and down my throbbing penis. Suddenly, Mother cried out, ending the kiss even as her free hand clawed at my chest. Mother began to shake and quiver and she fell against me, moaning against my skin as her pussy tightened around my plunging fingers, nearly holding them captive as her juices poured in a torrent over and around them while she stopped stroking me and just held me, occasionally giving my erection a gentle and loving squeeze. I was momentarily alarmed until I realized that Mother was in the throes of orgasmic delight. Still clawing at my chest, Mother raised her head and with tears running down her face, sobbed, "God help me, but I love you so!" Her face was contorted by the ecstasy my fingers had brought her, giving her a wild and erotic look that quickly brought me to the brink of orgasm myself. As Mother's orgasm began to recede and her pussy muscles seemed to begin relaxing around my fingers, she resumed stroking my cock, gripping it perfectly as she ran her fist up and down my erection until it was my turn to orgasm and try as I might to delay my ejaculation, Mother's touch would brook no refusal and I cried out, "Mother, I love you!" and then sobbed with absolute delight as there was an explosion of pure ecstasy between my legs and I began shooting semen with such forceful intensity that it bordered on pain. Still quivering from my fingers' ministrations, Mother gazed down and with some agility managed to catch most of my hot seed in her free hand...a few streamers splashing against her stomach as they flew above her cupped palm. I came and came, not ever remembering an orgasm so intense or so prolonged...amazing in retrospect when I realized how many times I had ejaculated in the last few days. But of course, this was special. For the first time in my young life, I was achieving sexual gratification at the hands of someone else and more importantly, I had reached orgasm via the ministrations of my own mother. The sweet experience of orgasm seemed to hang with us nearly for an eternity, but finally it began to wane and we both slumped back, stunned and amazed at the experience. Mother smiled at me...a smile that conveyed both motherly love and incestuous lust, offering me one last loving moan as my fingers slipped free of her. With childlike wonder, I held my hand up in the moonlight, seeing Mother's pussy juices glistening in the brilliant light of the full orb overhead. Like a child exploring the world about it with all its senses, I brought my fingers close to my face, smelling Mother's strong and wonderful scent before licking her wetness off my fingers, feeling my still semi-erect cock twitch as I savored her strong, sweet and salty flavor. Even in the moonlight, I could see Mother's face burn with something between arousal and embarrassment at the sight of her only child lapping up the cream of her pussy like a tasty dessert. Then she smiled at me as she held up her cupped hand, a trickle of my semen rolling over the edge. Mirroring my actions, Mother brought it to her face and inhaled the scent of my seed. Looking at me coyly, Mother brought my pooled semen closer to her mouth and her tongue slipped out and dipped tentatively into the white, warm sperm and then retreated, a blob of my semen on the tip of her tongue. Mother tasted me and seemed to find it pleasing because she began to lap at my sperm lick a thirsty dog at its water bowl, making happy, approving noises as she slurped the heavy, white fluids up. Suddenly, Mother paused and drew back as if she had suddenly awoke from a fevered sexual dream and realized what she was doing, She stared at me in something akin to shock and then unthinking, clapped her cum covered hand against her face, smearing my semen across her mouth and chin as her eyes widened in dismay. In a swift and graceful motion, Mother climbed to her feet and spun to look out on the ocean. I rose behind her and stepped to close the distance, my still somewhat erect cock brushing her hips from behind, feeling the water soaked fabric as I placed my hands on her bare shoulders. "Mother, are you alright?" Long, agonizing seconds passed before she said in a faint voice, "My god, son. What have we done?" I wrapped my arms possessively around her, my forearms brushing against her naked breasts and I said softly into her ear, "Nothing that we shouldn't have, Mother. We shared our love for each other...a love that needed to be acknowledged." Mother shivered at my words even as she leaned back into me. "Are we going mad, John? Is this island making us crazy? She turned and looked up into my eyes, my semen smeared over her lips, a thick, whitish blob of sperm hovering near the corner of her mouth. "I've dreamed of you, son...of doing things to you that a mother should never even think of..." Her words sent a shiver through me as I recalled the erotic dreams I had had of her of late. "I've dreamed of you too, Mother. If there is something about this island that has guided us into each other's arms, I can only be grateful that it has allowed me to see you as the lovely woman you are...the woman that I need and want. I love you, Mother, with all my heart and soul!" "Madness," Mother murmured, burying her face against my chest. "This is wrong, son. A mother and son are not meant to be...this way." I hugged my mother to me in a tight embrace. As I tried to reply to her effort to deny the rightness of what we had done, I felt Hector's words come back to me and I tried to apply them to our situation. "I once thought as you do, Mother, but now...knowing you as I have, touching you, I see that there is nothing immoral or evil in what we have shared. We have simply expressed our love for each other in a more...advanced way...more personal and intimate. Tell me you've ever been this close to another's heart...even with Father. Yes, it is incest, but we've committed no sin, but rather have come to know each other on a truer and more honest level than most people will ever experience!" I kissed my mother then, long and hard, pouring everything I felt for her into the kiss, gratified and thrilled at her response...relishing the taste and touch of her tongue against mine even as I recognized the taste of my own seed on my mother's lips. When the kiss ended, I said, "Tell me that that was wrong, Mother. Tell me that the love you feel for me this very instant is wrong." Mother bit her lower lip again, the instinctive action so adorable and sexy that I felt my cock stir with arousal. Tears trickled down her face as she replied, "I cannot say that, but...so much is happening...so many emotions like I am caught up in a flood of desire and love that makes madness seem so faint." Mother stroked my cheek and kissed me gently. "I...I need time to sort all this out." Mother again leaned her face into my chest and I could feel her tears, warm and thick, running down my chest. "We should be getting back, son. Please, take me home." I nodded and bent down and kissed Mother again, a soft, gentle and chaste kiss, but when I tried to withdraw, Mother's hands flew up to hold my head in place and she opened the kiss up, making it deeper and more passionate, her tongue making its way inside my mouth to dance and caress mine. It was a kiss of desperate passion that said much in its silence...that promised so much. I could have died happy amidst that kiss and still dream of it today as we stood with our lips joined and our half naked bodies pressed together. Silently, we walked back up the beach, pausing only to retrieve our shoes. Not a word was spoken between us, but I could see that Mother was in deep thought, her eyes distant as she tried to work out all that we were moving towards becoming in her mind. I had no doubts about how I felt and what I wanted with my mother...my concerns were primarily wrapped around my fears that our steadily growing incestuous relationship would prove too unconventional – too frightening for Mother and that she would flee from it rather than embrace it. We approached the house from the side and made our way in past the pool into the kitchen. It was dimly lit, a lamp flickering with enough light to guide our way towards the stairway beyond the narrow hallway. We were just entering the hallway when an almost unearthly moan echoed from the direction of the servants' quarters. My penis twitched and began to grow as I immediately recognized the now familiar sound of Antonia in orgasm. Mother stopped and turned her head, her eyes growing wide as she whispered, "My God...what was that?" In a heartbeat, I mulled over a multitude of responses but I knew immediately that this was a moment that could change our lives forever. Gently, I took Mother by the elbow and said quietly, "Come with me." We reversed course and made our way down the hall to Antonia's quarters. Twice more, Antonia's wordless sighs of incestuous pleasure washed over us as we approached the door. Standing behind Mother, I reached out for the door knob, Mother trying to stop me with her hand, looking up and back at me and shaking her head violently, fear of what lay behind the door evident on her face. I smiled and mouthed the words, "Watch, Mother," and silently opened the door enough to give us a view of what I knew would be going on. The Island of I Ch. 03 Antonia was naked, her body gleaming in the flickering light of a dozen candles, her body spread out wide on the bed, hands clamped around the rails of her headboard, back arching and breasts rolling as Hector's dark haired head bobbed between her legs, his erection bobbing between his thighs as he knelt there and orally pleased his mother. Mother gave a whispery gasp and tried to back away, but bumped against me, her hips pressing against my legs as I brought my hands up to her upper arms and held her there to gaze in shock and wonder at the sight of another mother and son in the throes of passion. In her ear, I said in a barely audible voice. "Watch, Mother...see what they have...what they share." Mother clamped a hand over her mouth, not wanting a cry to betray our voyeurism. Antonia moaned again, one hand releasing the headboard to drop onto a massive breast, fingers plucking at her swollen nipple as she keened, "Oh, Hector...my love...so sweet!" She rolled her hips, bucking her pussy against Hector's busy mouth. He noisily slurped at his mother's heavy flowing juices, making a chuckling, pleased sound as he licked and tongued his mother. Suddenly, Antonia's feet pushed upwards, making her whole body come up off the bed and she sobbed, "Making Mama CUMMMMM!" as an orgasm swept her away, opening her eyes to look with furious love at her son between her thighs. Hector intensified his efforts, anxious to spur his mother's orgasm to new heights with his mouth and tongue, relenting only when Antonia's body collapsed back onto the mattress, making them both bounce, her hands clawing at his shoulders. Like a lithe jungle cat, Hector seemed to move upwards and pounce on his mother in a single fluid motion. Mother shivered in my arms as she saw his long, hard cock clearly for a brief moment before he expertly slipped it between her glistening lips and buried himself completely in Antonia's motherly pussy. A small cry of shock escaped Mother's mouth, but was lost in the almost deafening shriek of Hector's mother as he filled her with his erect penis. I felt my mother sag back against me, only to stiffen as she felt my hardness pressing into her backside – only my slacks and the thin material of her dress separating our bodies. She shivered as we watched Hector begin to fuck Antonia with a series of rapid, brutal strokes, his mother grunting like a rutting beast each time his cock sank into her womb to the hilt. Antonia threw her arms around Hector's back, nails slowly dragging across his skin, leaving light, bloody scratches while her legs rose up, spreading wide until they stood high in a 'V' before finally curling around his hips, heels digging into his buttocks to urge her son to fuck her harder and deeper. Mother's hand never left her mouth, stifling any moans she might make, although I could hear her breathing – ragged whistling through her nose. Almost without thinking, I slowly moved my right hand from her arm across her chest to cup her breast, thrilled to find her nipple swollen and throbbing with blood. She ground herself against me as I slowly and gently tugged and pinched her erect nub between my thumb and forefinger. As the scent of human sweat, infused with the aroma of pussy wafted through the partially open door, I felt Mother's backside begin to move in time with Antonia's and Hector's sensual dance of incestuous love, her covered buttocks rubbing against the bulge in my pants. Hector drove his cock deep and moved forward, grinding his crotch against his mother's mound as he sought out Antonia's lips, smearing her face with her juices as he kissed her passionately, the wet noises of their joined mouths blending with the wet noises of their joined genitals to create erotic music as we watched. Their bodies rolled and writhed together, a more subtle and carnal movement of making love interwoven with Antonia occasional gasps of "Fuck me, Hector...fuck your mother, Fuck me and love me as I love you!" Then Antonia began to convulse underneath her son, almost throwing him off as orgasm suddenly and viciously swept over her. With sweat pouring off him, Hector rose up and began to rapidly thrust his cock in and out of his mother as she began to shriek those same strange words as she had on earlier occasions, "MATRE TIAMBO UN UMANO UN ESTASIUM VICTRE DIABLAS!" With the words came the sensation of powerful energy sweeping not only Antonia's body, but the entire room, washing over us and enhancing our own desires and emotions. Antonia clawed at her son's back as her orgasm swelled inside her, her breasts bouncing violently about as her, sobbing as carnal ecstasy overwhelmed her, her screams becoming shriller as she cried out, "MATRE TIAMBO UN UMANO UN ESTASIUM VICTRE DIABLAS!" again and again. Hector's buttocks were a blur of motion as he frantically fucked his mother until he let out that now familiar bull's roar signaling climax and plunged deep into her wet, clasping pussy and began to ejaculate, his testicles rising with each burst of hot semen into her womb. Mother was quivering violently against me, her hand falling away as she half whispered and half moaned, "Oh my god!" We watched as mother and son slowed down their convulsions and gasps of orgasmic delight, becoming a heavy breathing single entity of tangled limbs and joined bodies. Antonia rolled her hips one last time and Hector's still erect penis slipped partially out of her, displaying his seed mingled with her juices. His mother moaned happily as he adjusted his position and sank deep inside her once again. The sight seemed to overwhelm Mother and with a nearly silent cry, she broke free of my embrace and stumbled back up the hallway. I quietly closed the door and followed, wanting to keep Mother in my arms and worried that it had all been too much for her. Mother moved quickly and quietly despite being unsteady on her feet, wobbling back and forth between the narrow walls of the hallway and the one leading to our staircase. It was only as she ascended the stairs that the sobs broke free and I rushed after her as I heard her crying, one hand at her mouth and one hand gripping the railing. I caught up with Mother just shy of her door, reaching out to touch her shoulder as she fumbled at her bedroom door knob. She turned at my touch, a mad mixture of emotions on her face, tears running down her face. Words tumbled from her mouth in a chaotic jumble as if there was so much to say and she couldn't decide what to focus on. "That was...they were...my god, is that what we would..." Mother paused and looked at me with both horror and longing. "John, my god, is that what you want us to become?" Her hands were pressed against my chest as if she were claiming me while preparing to push me away. "They are lovers, Mother," I said in a rush, "Just as we are meant to be lovers!" Mother shook her head, looking away from me as if to deny that we had such desires within ourselves. "Mother and son...that is incest, madness." She reached out to caress my face. "I love you, John, but this...what they were doing, we...its wrong." "It's not wrong, Mother!" I said almost in anger. My hands were on her upper arms and I was squeezing them so hard, I probably left marks. "Antonia and Hector share love...a great love...a love that can exist between us as well if we're brave enough to seize it. I love you, Mother!" "Mother trembled in my grip and shook her head even as she placed fingers over my mouth to shush me. "What you...we want – it's a love that demands too much. It would consume us, son. We would be burnt to a crisp if we yielded to it. We already have crossed too many lines. John, we cannot." Mother shook her head and whimpered, "I am your mother, John." Passion, infused with anger swelled within my heart till I thought I might simply explode. "Then let us burn, Mother! I'd rather die in a carnal embrace with you, consumed by our love than live a thousand years without you in my arms!" I kissed Mother then, hard and violently, forcing my tongue into her mouth to find hers. She relented a little, kissing me back for long, sweet seconds, her tongue seeking out mine and returning my passion. Then she was pushing me back, her hand finding the door knob and opening it, her other hand pushing me back as she pleaded, "No...not now, John. I love you so much, but I cannot...I need to think." Her eyes held such pain and need that they stayed me from pushing into Mother's bedroom and taking her there and then. I looked at her, holding out my arms as I wordlessly implored her, but Mother shook her head, blew me a kiss and said, "I love you, son," before closing the door – the sound of the lock turning sending a stabbing pain through my heart. I do not know how long I stood before her door, hoping and praying she would open it again. Finally, feeling defeat weighing me down, I retreated to my room, throwing myself on my bed, aching to find solace in sleep, wanting to exorcise the unfulfilled desire and love for my mother from my heart and soul and feeling that without her love, I could not survive. Sleep was slow in coming and when it did, instead of the carnal dreams of the past nights, it was a tortured sleep – images of Mother reaching out to me yet always just beyond my grasp haunted me until I awoke to the sound of thunder and rain outside my window. Until finally the grayness of the dawn rose, I sat and listened to the torrential rains fall, the island of the accursed Isprey illuminated often by terrible and jagged bolts of lightning. I brooded over my actions, cursing myself for taking Mother to see Antonia and Hector make love, castigating myself for likely having destroyed our relationship beyond repair. My fears were not alleviated when I went down for breakfast and found only Antonia in her servant's uniform. She said that Hector was sleeping in – that with the rain and lightning, there would be no working to clear the brush. She also informed me that Mother was in seclusion, taking to her bed. "Missus Halloran informs me she is taken ill again and wishes to not be disturbed," Antonia told me solemnly as she sat breakfast down beside me. I nodded and sighed before muttering in a defeated tone, "I understand." Antonia hesitated and then slipped into a chair beside me, her massive, barely restrained breasts brushing my arm, sending a ripple of desire through me that reminding me of how much I wanted my mother. "I am not sure you were wise in your actions last night, John...ah, such is the rashness of youth," she murmured, reaching out to run her fingers through my hair. "But, I am not sure that it wasn't the right thing to do...to allow your mother to confront the beauty and enormity of the life you both are moving towards." My face burned with embarrassment as I stared down at my lap and replied, "You knew we were there?" Antonia chuckled. "Absolutely. I could sense your presence...your desire and lust for each other." She leaned over, her breasts mashing against my arm and whispered into my ear, "I could smell your mother's lust for you, John." I turned and looked at her, almost startled at the fire burning in her eyes as she smiled at me. If sex could be incarnate, I knew that Antonia was the form that it would take. "Have I ruined things for Mother and me?" I asked plaintively. Antonia took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I don't know, John. I doubt it. There is a powerful love between you. The poets would name it true love and I believe that true love will never be denied. Perhaps it will be yours and her choice to make...perhaps the choice will be made for you, but in the end, I think you and your mother will know love. The mysterious woman leaned in and pressed her lips against mine, gently kissing me before rising up to her feet again. Stroking my hair, Antonia said, "For now, be patient, young master. Give your mother time to sort things out." She glanced towards a window as thunder rumbled over us. "Today, rest...there can be no work in this storm. Rest and keep faith. Your mother will find her way to you." And so the day passed. As the rain poured down in buckets, I whiled away the hours, spending what seemed an eternity on my bed, agonizing over my actions, worried that I had thrown away my chance to know Mother completely as a lover. I sat in the living quarters, reading my Spillane books without comprehending a word, one ear allowed focused on the slightest of sounds coming from my mother's bedroom and hoping she would emerge from her self-imposed isolation. The rain seemed to be never ceasing – still raining heavily into the night as I took supper with Antonia and Hector and then beyond as they retired to their room and I to mine, envying what I knew would be a night of passionate lovemaking on their part. I started to travel downstairs twice that night to watch them, but could not bring myself to be further reminded of what they shared, but I was bereft of. I masturbated, but could not find release. Even sleep denied me the pleasure of the dark, incestuous dreams of late and I awoke early the next morning to the now constant sounds of thunder and torrential rain. Again, Hector and I spent the day in idle frustration. We played chess several times, too evenly matched to gain decisive results. Mother again failed to make an appearance and several times I climbed the stairs intending to pound on her door until she opened and yielded herself to me, but always, Antonia's words echoed in my mind, counseling me to be patient and allow things to unfold as they were meant to be. The highlight of that second rainy day was watching Antonia cow Father into retreat when he emerged in an agitated state, demanding that Hector and I venture into the storm to continue clearing the land. Despite his anxiousness to see his supposed altar unveiled, he retreated quickly when Antonia stormily came to our defense and sent him scurrying back to his study amidst a flurry of curses in English and her native language. In late afternoon as the gray skies began to darken, Hector summoned me to venture out to the pool where to our amusement and dismay, it had begun to fill with rainwater, giving us a vision of what it might look like when we finally would get it operational. Having scoured nearly all the algae and scum, the rainwater was nearly clear and we both laughed that we might take our first dip into the pool in a day or two...assuming the rain finally ended. Evening brought no sign of Mother and again, I spent a restless night, filled with lurid thoughts of how Antonia and Hector were spending their night and how badly I wanted the same with my mother. Alas, even my dreams were again bereft of the temporary illusion of Mother and I locked in intimate expressions of love and lust. The next morning, the rain finally abated just as the sun rose above the ocean horizon. It was with some relief that I was able to walk through the sodden earth alongside Hector to resume our work clearing the brush. After days of bottled up frustration, I attacked the heavy foliage with a vengeance, Hector working silently alongside me, sensing my tense state and letting me take out my frustration on the thick plant growth. We worked hard and quickly and the sun had not yet reached its zenith when my machete glanced off rock and with a bit of surprise, I realized we had reached Father's longed for altar. We spent less than an hour clearing it of the clinging vines and undergrowth to reveal the rectangular stone work, clearly man made and differing from the surrounding slabs, being comprised of an odd obsidian like and flat surface, raised up perhaps four feet from the ground and being perhaps four feet wide and seven feet in length. Round holes were chiseled through the rock at each corner. On one end were two raised runners, each an inverted 'V', both the same height of maybe a foot and a half. The surface of the altar was covered in runes, similar to ones drawn on chalkboards in Father's office or sketched out on so many pieces of paper – mostly of them obviously Nordic, but others very much different and somehow disturbing...almost writhing when viewed despite being set in never changing stone. I finished plucking various tendrils of thorny vines off the altar while Hector went to the house to retrieve Father. I watched with dour amusement as Father practically ran all the way back and then observed him with some concern as he cooed over our discovery, his hands tracing over the runes as he mumbled to himself, sometimes laughing quietly like a man amused by some insane secret. He caressed the raised end of the altar, leaning between them and nodding to himself as he muttered, "So obvious...allowing for better penetration. Finally, he turned and clapped us both on the back. "Absolutely marvelous, lads!" he said jovially, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and hugging me. His face alight with happiness and I thought him close to tears as he said, "A lifetime of work, John...coming to fruition." He gazed up at the sky as if he could see the stars beyond the sun's illumination. "Tonight, I think...yes, tonight will be perfect for the ceremony." He clapped me on the back again and said, "Take the rest of the day off, son. Go swimming or something." He turned to Hector and putting his arm around my friend's shoulders, led him off, saying, "There is much to do, my boy...much to do." I wandered down onto the beach, walking idly along the edge of the surf, thinking of Mother and how so much had passed between us and how much I missed her mere presence. As I walked, a glint of something sparkled off the sun half buried in the sand. I reached down and pulled it out, discovering it was the jeweled comb last night. I fell to my knees with a moan, tears now running down my face as I recalled Mother's face...her expressions of love and desire as we had held each other and yes, touched each other as lovers in the soft light of the full moon. I confess that I wept, both for what we had shared and for all that was yet left undone. I sat there in the sand, mourning for what I suspected were dashed hopes and dreams until the sun was setting behind me, the light growing dim. I listlessly began my way back to the house only to see Antonia emerge from the kitchen and call my name as I entered the yard. Antonia looked somewhat grim and foreboding as she looked at me, her eyes dark and unreadable and said, "Time for dinner, John." I nodded forlornly and climbed the steps, stopping as I passed her and she reached out and clamped a hand around my wrist. "Your mother has come down for dinner, John," she said softly. As hope suddenly swelled in my breast, she crushed it by quickly adding. "She comes at your father's insistence – a celebration in anticipation of his ceremony tonight." "I...I understand," I muttered and I prepared to move on, but still Antonia held me in place. "Do not despair, John. Your mother loves you as much as you love her. She...desires you as much as you desire her...maybe even more." She tightened her grip on my arm and made sure I was looking into her eyes as she quietly and seriously intoned, "No matter what happens, never forget your love for her. It is the love that you share that will make you both strong. It is your love that will save you both in the end." Only then, did she let me go, turning and going inside with me following behind her, a bit mystified at her words, sensing that they were meant to be more than encouragement. Inside, I found the dining room set up for a celebration. My nostrils were filled with the heavenly scent of many foods perfectly prepared. Father stood at the far end of the table, Mother at the other end. She looked lovely, but reserved, dark circles around her eyes and looking at me as I entered with something akin to both fear and longing. Father beckoned me to a chair beside her and I gave her a chaste kiss on an offered cheek as I slipped by her to sit down. She was dressed most conservatively in a dress of purest white with a puritan like high collar. Somehow, attempting to conceal her delightful attributes made her all the more desirable. I had a keen urge to tug down the collar and kiss the back of her neck below her pinned up hair. The Island of I Ch. 03 I suddenly realized that Hector and his mother had joined us, sitting opposite of Mother and myself. They smiled at us and I felt Mother stiffen beside me and knew that if I glanced at her, her face would be a bright red as she recalled witnessing their incestuous appetites just days before. I ached to comfort her...to hold her hand and know that through just my touch, I would be able to convey my love for her. Father rose up from his seat, beaming at us all. "At last, loved ones and friends, we come to the end of the journey," he began, his voice full of smug good will. "I have spent most of my adult life tracking down the truth behind the story of William Isprey...separating myth from truth, discovering what truly happened on this island in 987 A.D." He then lifted his glass up, filled with a dark wine. "But first, a toast in celebration of my, no, our triumph!" We all collected our glasses and copied Father as he drank deep from his glass. It was a rich, heady wine with a slightly bitter aftertaste. I had rarely drank wine in my eighteen years, but I cared not for this one. Father sat his down with a satisfied sigh and took a deep breath. I shifted in my chair, sighing a little as I anticipated hearing yet another rendition of Isprey. In a way, I was correct, but at the same time, I listened as my father step into madness. "Before our world had cooled from its creation, came the Others," said Father solemnly. "Beings of unimaginable power...so highly evolved beyond anything that came to exist here. The Others ruled for untold eons and were humankind's earliest masters. In time, some of us came to understand some of their powers and we threw off their yokes, banishing most to Outside our universe where they dwell even unto today, always seeking a way to return." Father paused and smiled at us all. "Not all the Others were banished. Some were imprisoned, their existence tied to certain places in the world, only capable of freedom if certain rites were performed. For their freedom, these Others promise unlimited power. This island is one such place. Isprey's Island is the prison for the Other called...Ithinq'val Hamg." Antonia hissed and I could barely hear her whisper, "Speak not evil's name." Father ignored her and continued. "William Isprey spent his life in search of a way to free the Other imprisoned here. When he thought he was ready, he came here accompanied by a dozen fierce Viking warriors and a member of Antonia's race...one of the Jahndi. He attempted the "Summoning" having prepared the ritual site that you fine lads have worked so hard to uncover. He believed he had found the proper way to release Ithinq'val Hamg." Father chuckled. "Of course, he did not and lost his life rather than becoming the most powerful man alive." Father turned to face Mother and me as he continued. "I am sorry to have sacrificed so much of the time we were meant to be together in my research on how Isprey failed, but know that it was not time wasted. I know why he failed and I will not make the same mistake he did." In a subdued voice, Mother replied, "You actually mean to attempt this "Summoning? You actually believe you can free this Other and gain great power, Thomas? My god, is this island making us all insane?' "I am not insane!" Father nearly shouted back at her, making Mother flinch. I started to rise to her defense, but Father pressed on. "All my life I have been laughed at and mocked for my work. No more! I will make my so called colleagues crawl on their knees before me. I know that Isprey was not a myth. I know why he failed and how I will triumph over all!" He looked at us then, his son and wife and for the first time, I truly did see that he was mad...Father stared at us with eyes that had gazed into the abyss too long. He confirmed it by saying, "I will triumph and you two are the key!" He turned and gazed about. "I have traveled the globe, seeking out the proper ritual of the Summoning." He turned and grinned at Hector. "Some of it I found with the aid of your father, lad. It took decades, but I know how Isprey failed." Father reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a tattered piece of papyrus covered with hieroglyphics and other ancient writings. "I found this in Alexandria two years ago. It comes from the time of Ramses II. His chief demonologist understood how to unleash the Others. The Summoning demands an unholy sacrifice...Isprey didn't delve deep enough into the Other's perception of unholy...he didn't understand what it truly meant." Father laughed again, almost giggling with glee as we all sat there in stunned silence. "Isprey sacrificed an innocent child he'd bought from the Moors of Northern Africa, thinking that was such a terrible act was of itself 'unholy.' He didn't perceive that what the Others viewed as unholy was love itself...the more intimate and perfect the love, the more unholy to them. And what is the ultimate, most intimate love?" He paused and stared at all of us for a long, tantalizing minute. "The love that a mother and her child share...of course! Taken to its final end, it is known as incest...a concept that For'ishk, Wizard of Ramses and the ancient Egyptians were more than passing familiar with!" Father smiled affectionately at Mother and me. "And the most unholy moment of all is the first time that a mother and her child have intercourse!" Mother stared at Father for a long moment, her face paling as the implications of his words sank in. She turned to look at me, both horror and guilt on her face and perhaps it was my imagination, but perhaps a little yearning was in her eyes as well...almost as if Father's mad ideas gave her a small window of opportunity to explore further the feelings she had come to have for me. She rose from the table and facing Father again, shouted, "This is madness, Thomas and I'll have nothing to do with it. To even suggest that John and I could..." She stopped speaking and almost seemed to stagger as she stepped away from the table. "I...we will leave this damned place as soon as the next ship arrives." Father laughed and shook his head. "No, you won't, darling. I regret that you and John are the price for what must be done, but...mayhap when I have the powers of a God, I will be able to bring you back...if the Other hasn't consumed your souls." I stood up, the implication of his words very clear. "You'll do nothing to Mother!" I snarled, my heart beating in my chest even as a clammy sweat broke out on my face. Father laughed at me mockingly. "Ah, son...always there to protect his mother." He shook a finger at me. "I am not an absent minded fool. I know how you feel about her and I know she harbors desires for you as well. It is destiny, don't you see? Destiny that you both shall serve my purpose." He glanced at Antonia and Hector, both sitting silently, a slight frown on their faces and both blushing with embarrassment. "I made sure that you both had an example to inspire you. Even if you hadn't harbored any incestuous feelings for your mother, son, I was sure that the presence of the Jahndi would steer you to it. Incest runs deep in their blood." "I'm leaving," Mother gasped and turned to flee the room, but then she halted and looked at me as sweat ran down her face and she whispered, "John, I love..." and fainted, collapsing into a heap on the floor. "Mother!" I cried out and rushed to her, only to be overwhelmed by dizziness as I began to stumble. I fell, not feeling any of the pain of impact, reaching out to her as I went down, my last memory being my hand just brushing hers before all became blackness. # "Never lose faith in the love you share with your mother, John. The love you two share will keep you from harm." Antonia's voice, soft and warm echoed through the darkness that was my existence, offering me a lifeline...a tether back to consciousness even though the journey was long and strange. In the absence of visual data, my mind created for me a raft of infinite warmth and softness to ride back to awareness as a variety of sensations rippled through me...soft, pillow-like comfort and silky heat, both hairy and wet. "Your love for your mother is your anchor to life. Never surrender it, never let your mother go!" Again, Antonia's voice seemed to echo on my ear, so close I thought I could feel her lips brushing my ear. Beyond her strange, soothing voice, I began to hear other noise...the rumble of thunder alternating with a steady drumbeat. A voice speaking something ancient...even alien with a wrongness throughout each strangely phrased syllable. Then a murmuring moan began that I instantly recognized as being made by my mother. I was suddenly awake, but found myself strangely immobile. A warm, wet wind blew over me and I suddenly perceived that I was naked and I was resting on a bed of incredible softness and then I opened my eyes and found myself staring into Mother's brilliant blue orbs, wide with panic and confusion. With sudden clarity, I realized that I lying on top of my mother, her as naked as I was. "Mother!" I gasped as I tried to rise up, but found myself strapped into place, immobile and unable to move. "S-son, what's happening?" Mother gasped, struggling under me. I was unable to answer as I gazed wildly about. Looking above Mother's head, I saw that my arms were tied down across her shoulders, silken ropes running through holes at the corners of what I suddenly recognized as the altar Hector and I had uncovered earlier in the day. Mother's arms were around my back and I quickly surmised that they were bound into place there just as my legs were strapped down at the other end of the altar. It was painful to turn my head, but I confirmed that I lay atop Mother, her legs lifted up by the odd structure on the altar. A picture of a gynecologist's examination room rose in my mind. Then Mother's struggles drew attention that my penis...quite erect and throbbing was nestled between her labia. I was erect and Mother...Mother was quite wet. Suddenly, Father's face loomed up close, a maniacal and eager grin etched there as he said, "Apologies for any discomfort. I'm sure it won't last long and if you cooperate, the end will come amidst pleasure. I have been told that there is nothing quite like the pleasure a mother and son derive from sex." "Son of a bitch," I hissed. "I'll kill you!" I struggled vainly to raise my head high enough to snap at him, wishing for little more than the opportunity to tear out his throat. Father leaned back and laughed. "No, you will not, John. I am on the threshold of becoming a God on Earth and you...soon you will be just a memory and a faded one at that." He paced off and I suddenly realized he was wearing a robe covered with bizarre runes. I looked around wildly. Hector knelt beyond Father, steadily pounding out a beat on an odd, triangular drum. As near as I could tell, Hector was naked. I felt fingers slowly trace their way down my back and I turned to see Antonia beside us. She too was naked except for her now familiar pendant hanging between her pendulous breasts. She looked down at me, her face tense, but smiling. She leaned in and kissed me, her tongue caressing my lips and then did the same to Mother, a sight that I found disturbing, yet arousing, making my cock throb between Mother's nether lips. "Forgive me for deceptions I have done," she whispered, "But remember what I have said, John. Love your mother with all your might and whatever may come, do not let her out of your embrace." "I trusted you!" I sobbed, tears suddenly running down my face. "You...you and Hector deceived me, made me think terrible things. You made me think unnatural thoughts about Mother!" Antonia stroked my face, brushing tears off my cheeks. "I have done wrong to you, yes, John, but your thoughts...your love for your mother was born of your own soul." She looked at both of us with tender love and said, "This love you two were destined to share would have been realized one way or another. I have seen the truth of your lives and I have seen your destiny!" "Oh, Antonia, please...don't let Thomas do this. Free us, please. Save us, Antonia!" Mother sobbed, her struggles beneath me availing no profit except to arouse my already turgid penis. Mother's pussy was hot and wet, her velvet flesh slick with her arousal. Antonia shook her head and again kissed us, first Mother, her tongue pressing into my mother's mouth and Mother responding to it, her eyes wide with bewilderment. "Listen when I tell you that no harm can come to mother and son if they armor themselves in the protection of their love." She kissed me and said with heavy emphasis, "Whatever may come, John, do not let your mother out of your loving embrace!" "It is time!" bellowed Father approaching again. "It is time for the Summoning." He gestured to Antonia. "Take your place, Jahndi witch!" My eyes followed Antonia as she gracefully walked to her son, taking the drumstick from his hand and never missing a beat as he stepped back and she knelt behind the drum. She continued to beat out the weird rhythm as Hector knelt behind her and then I saw his hands spread her buttocks and when her eyes widened and then closed in utter pleasure, I knew that he was fucking her. Father raised his hands to the sky and began uttering strange words, alien mutterings that hurt to hear, but which with each phrase became understood. Overhead, lightning played across a clear sky and the moon, full and blood red showered us with an obscene light as he chanted, "ITHING'VAL HAMG, COME FORTH! YOU ARE SUMMONED AND YOUR FREEDOM IS AT HAND!" He turned to face Antonia and Hector and continued, "WITNESS THE UNHOLY ACT OFFERED UP TO YOU BY YOUR SERVANTS...PERFORMED FOR YOUR BENEFIT!" He turned and faced us. "WITNESS MY OFFERING – A VIRGINAL PERFORMANCE OF UNHOLY INCEST – MOTHER AND SON ON THE VERGE OF SUCCUMBING TO DARK LUST. EVEN IN THE FACE OF THEIR SOULS' DESTRUCTION, THEY ARE BURNING WITH THE LUST OF UNHOLY DESIRE. MAY THEY NOURISH YOUR HUNGERS, LORD ITHING'VAL HAMG!" The strange, cloudless storm intensified as lightning strikes buffeted the grounds around us, striking the stone slabs we had uncovered over the last few weeks. Mother moaned below me even as we both now squirmed in our bonds, not seeking freedom, but suddenly overwhelmed by the sudden need to be joined cock to pussy. Something incredibly carnal seemed to suffuse the very air, overwhelming nearly all thought. Glancing about, I suddenly perceived shadowy, almost inconceivable specters manifesting on the stone slabs...things that my vision seemed to simply slide away from, not quite able or willing to accept in my conscious thought. Amidst my incestuous lusts for mother, a palpable wrongness filled the clearing. Father also seemed to perceive them as he turned and bowed to each before intoning, "BEHOLD ITHING'VAL HAMG, YOUR KIN COME CLOSE TO THE VEIL THAT SEPARATES REALITIES, AWAITING YOUR UNLEASHING SO YOU MAY OPEN THE GATES FOR THEIR RETURN! COME FORTH, ANCIENT MASTER AND I SHALL BREAK THE SHACKLES THAT BIND YOU!" Father slowly walked around us even as Antonia began chanting as her son pounded his erection into her pussy – her song weaving in and around the bizarre beats of the drum. Antonia's face was a rictus of pleasure as she screamed, "MATRE TIAMBO UN UMANO UN ESTASIUM VICTRE DIABLAS!" again and again. I felt a hand on my genitals, Father's fingers around my cock and despite the repulsive feel of his touch, I throbbed as I perceived he was placing my swollen crown between Mother's aroused labia which clasped hungrily for my flesh. "AS HUSBAND AND FATHER, I BLESS THIS UNHOLY UNION OF MY SON AND HIS MOTHER. LET THEIR LUST BE THE FUEL THAT BURNS YOUR CHAINS AWAY, ITHING'VAL HAMG. LET THEIR INCESTOUS LUST MAKE YOU FREE TO DO YOUR WILL UPON THE EARTH!" All the world seemed to fall into place then as suddenly I was free to thrust deep into Mother's wet pussy. With a loud howl of lust, I did just that, triggering a soulful cry in my mother as she flung her hips up to meet my cock. "I love you, Mother!" I sobbed as I felt my cock descend into her liquid heat, understanding completely for the first time why Antonia and Hector were so devoted to each other. I had dreamt of the moment, but had barely conceived of the sheer rightness of joining with my mother sexually! Our mouths found each other in the storm that was our lust and love, our tongues writhing about each other, making love even as I hunched into her marvelous pussy again. "I LOVE YOU, SON!" Mother screamed, saliva splattering from her mouth as she broke the kiss. She bucked upwards into me again and again, grinding herself against my crotch, attempting to swallow more deeply my cock into her furnace like womb. As we fucked passionately within our restraints, a part of me seemed to step apart, admiring the lewd and wanton sight of myself and Mother rutting like wild beasts, but also perceiving the equally passionate coupling of Antonia and her son and the growing power around us...a tangible, yet elusive force gathering in the clearing. Between the rampant burst of lightning, the blood-like glow of the Moon exposed tantalizing and disturbing glimpses of something forming above us and around us – taking form one moment and becoming invisible the next. There were tentacle-like extensions and unnerving apertures reminiscent of the labia like appearance of certain exotic lilies. My recent dreams echoed vaguely in my head and I suddenly knew I was already acquainted with Ithing'val Hamg. Mother's gaze started to turn away from me and her eyes widened in horror as she looked upon the grotesque specter of the Other and I hissed, "Look at me, Mother. Look at the love in my eyes," and I kissed her passionately, fixing her gaze with my eyes so much like her own, feeling relieved when the aura of insanity faded from her blue orbs. Father trembled as he again raised his arms, bringing out of the folds of his rune covered robes, a long, wicked knife, gleaming with a reddish tint in the light of the moon's rays. Even as I kissed Mother again, my hips working feverishly to please her with quick, hard thrusts, her pussy walls clinging tightly to my erection, massaging my shaft and kissing at the head of my cock, I kept a watchful eye on my father, resenting ever iota of attention I was unable to spend focused on my mother. A part of me knew that the end of my life was at hand. Flecks of fear were floating amidst the lust and love in Mother's eyes as well and she moaned, "Sweet son, forgive me for not letting you in me earlier. My love for you was so intense, so strangely powerful, I was afraid it would consume us both." As Father again approached, raising the sacrificial dagger high above his head, I replied to my mother, "No apologies...a moment or a lifetime joined body and soul with you, Mother fulfills all my hopes and dreams." "ITHING'VAL HAMG, AS I RIP THE BLOOD AND LIFE FROM THE UNHOLY ONES' BODIES, COME FORTH AND CONSUME THEIR SOULS AND LET THEIR UNHOLINESS FEED YOUR STRENGTH SO YOU MAY BREAK YOUR EARTHLY CHAINS!" "I love you, Mother," I whispered while I thrust deep inside her, feeling her wrapping around me even as she whispered her love to me and Father's dagger swept down to pierce both our bodies. I could feel the slight rush of pressure as the wicked knife approached and then there was light and heat as Father's knife thrust was blunted, the force of his halted stroke throwing him off balance to stumble into the dirt beside us. "NO! WHAT STAYS MY HAND?" Father screeched as he climbed to his feet. Again, he raised his arm on high and brought it down on us and again, something flared bright and hot and my father shrieked as he fell away, his hand blackened and blistered while the dagger fell to the earth. Mother cried out in disbelief, both from our momentary and unforeseen salvation and from what I perceived to be the first tremors of orgasm as her hips rolled and writhed beneath me, encouraging me to fuck her harder. Father again clambered to his feet. "What...I've followed the Summoning precisely..." he whimpered as he stared at his ravaged hand, the flesh already falling away to reveal gleaming bone. The Island of I Ch. 03 "BETRAYED! YOU JANDHI BITCH!" Father snarled as he turned on Antonia and Hector, almost oblivious to us as they moved in perfect unison, slamming into each other wetly. Father snatched up the dagger in his remaining good hand and rushed the kneeling couple fucking on their hands and knees. Neither flinched as he brought down his knife, Antonia moaning lewdly as she began to orgasm on her son's cock, her hand still steadily beating the odd drum. There was again a flash of light, accompanied by intense heat and the knife fell to the ground again as Father sagged to his knees cradling his destroyed hands. His wails of pain and despair were answered by angry, frustrated shrieks from the surrounding specters already fading from their insubstantial grasp on our world and I understood that the ceremony had failed. Laughing triumphantly, I renewed my thrusts with youthful vigor, triggering a massive orgasm in Mother – her screams of pleasure mixing with Father's shrieks of pain. He suddenly jerked his head up, eyes now wide with fear as the air around us began to heat as if we were standing before an immense open fire. The growing heat spurred my arousal on as if the energy was born of, yet feeding on our incestuous lust. The near tangible Ithing'Val Hamg drifted and concentrated around Father and I felt the immense heat it was giving off in its anger and denial. It seemed to pick Father up and hold him suspended in the air. Father screamed in pain and fear even as his skin began to blister and blacken, writhing in the deadly grasp of the denied Other. Mother and I both moaned with pleasure and with surprised discomfort as the hair on our head began to crisp in the unnatural heat. Our bonds suddenly seemed to fall away, cut or burned I was not sure. I glanced over at Antonia and Hector but they had vanished, but suddenly I heard Antonia's voice in my ear, "Now, flee for your lives. Do not let your mother go. Keep her in your loving embrace. GO NOW!" I did not hesitate even a second, lunging backwards with Mother in my arms, sliding backwards off the altar to land on my feet, Mother still impaled on my cock, sobbing with undreamt of pleasure. The heat was now so intense that the surrounding brush and trees were smoldering. The foul stench of burning hair filled my nostrils as I moved, Father's death shrieks echoing in my ears. I lumbered off, somehow finding the strength to carry Mother, supported by my hands on her taut buttocks and my throbbing cock spearing her cunt. I ran awkwardly towards the direction of the house as a raging inferno exploded behind me and gave chase. The race was so strange and surreal, the pleasure of our sexual joining contrasting with the terrible heat and fear of the moment. I felt my feet slap onto concrete and cried, "Don't let go of me, Mother! I love you!" as I leaped and we fell into the chill, sweet rainwater that had partially filled the pool! The cold water of the pool was like a balm after the fire that had almost consumed us, but it seemed to have no detrimental effects on us in our incestuous coupling. Mother clung to me vigorously, her arms and legs wrapped around me both lovingly and possessively as our groins hunched together – never ceasing to generate the carnal pleasure that sustained us. We sank to the bottom of the pool and I thanked the heavens that we'd been lucky enough to have jumped into the deep end. As my feet landed against the pebbled concrete flooring, we stared lovingly into each other's eyes, illuminated by great light overhead and then kissed as we almost hovered on the pool's bottom, sharing each other's last bits of oxygen. Finally, the need to breath became too much and I kicked us off the bottom of the pool and we broke the surface as we broke our loving kiss, gasping for air amidst a great inferno. Everything about us seemed to be ablaze...the trees and nearby brush, the grass and the great house itself. Although it didn't seem possible, I thought I could hear Father's screams still echoing in the night as if somehow his torment continued long after his physical body should have been consumed. Mother sobbed and hugged me tighter as she whimpered, "My God, John, has the whole world gone insane?" I hugged her back, treading water and replied, "Hush, Mother...think not of that, focus on the now...focus on you and me and what we have become." I kissed her then again as she again became fully aware of the fact that we were joined in incestuous sex. Mother's eyes grew wide as she said, "John...son, you are...you are fucking me! You're fucking your mother!" She began to laugh and for a brief moment I thought she might be succumbing to madness after all, but then she screamed with pleasure as she hunched against me and cried out, "You feel wonderful inside me, John! Fuck me, darling – fuck me and love me forever!" Obedient son that I am, I persevered to obey my mother. We drifted into shallower water where I could find my footing as we stood neck high in the cool water, my hands cupping Mother's buttocks while her ankles crossed over my ass and her arms remained wrapped around my neck, fingers clawing into my skin as she came and came again. Overhead and all around us, a storm of fiery energy raged even as between our joined loins an even fiercer storm born of incestuous lust and love ran wild. Amidst the roar of the fire seemed to sound an ancient and triumphant cry, itself almost lost in the sound of great, beating wings. All the madness of the evening...of the last weeks was forgotten as Mother and I made love, finally unleashing all our repressed desires, drowning ourselves in our love and hunger for each other, never becoming sated on the ecstasy that being joined cock and pussy produced. We both should have collapsed from exhaustion and died that night, but somehow we became eternal...forever in the moment of perfect orgasm...Mother's cunt tightening around my erection again and again, bathing it in her steaming juices as she orgasmed while I came and came again, ejaculating impossible load after load of hot semen into her motherly womb, never seeming to lose the hardness that my mother inspired in me. The night and the storm of fire seemed to both go on forever and neither of us wanted it to end as we fucked and made love, always conscious that we were mother and son and always aware that this was our destiny...that we were meant to be lovers. We made love amidst the fire until both seemed to merge, the flames of our desire and of the Other's ire becoming one until ecstatic fire consumed all. # I awoke to the singing of the gulls and opened my eyes to a brilliant blue morning sky, pure save a single column of black smoke. I was lying on my back and a pleasurable weight was atop me. Looking down, I saw the top of Mother's blonde tresses, smeared with soot and algae. Her bare shoulders shifted and as I reached out to stroke them, she shifted against me, her nose and lips nuzzling my chest as she slept. It took a moment to sort out our surroundings, but I realized that we were lying at the edge of the shallow end of the pool, somehow having made our way here in the night to fall asleep in the sweet exhaustion that our lovemaking had wrought. Low to the ground around us was a smoky haze and the strong scent of burned wood. I craned my neck towards the direction of the house and found only smoking remnants of its bones...great wooden beams that charred and fumed amidst brick and mortar debris. A great column of smoke rose high into the sky Looking out towards the work site, I could only see burned tree trunks through slowly swirling strands of smoke...the open grass gone leaving only blackish ground. As I moved, Mother came awake and lifted her head to look around, shifting slightly so that she was straddling me, one long leg on each side of me. Her magnificent breasts swung hypnotically as she sat up and stared at the destruction around us. Finally, Mother's brilliant blue eyes found mine and she said, "We're alive. You saved us, son." She stated it as a fact, not a question. I shook my head and replied, "We saved each other, Mother. Our love for each other is what preserved us, I think." Mother nodded and a cloud passed over her face for a moment. "Thomas is dead, isn't he?" "Yes, Mother. I think Father's obsessions killed him." Mother was quiet for a moment although after a minute or so, she seemed to realize that she was sitting atop me naked, her loins pressed against my already hardening penis. An odd smile flitted across her face. "I cannot find it within me to say I will miss him." Mother straightened her posture, her hands slowly rising up from her stomach to cup and massage her breasts, her nipples stiffening from her fingers' attentions. She glanced around again and said in a perplexed tone, "Antonia and Hector?" I shook my head in reply even as I joined my hands with hers, squeezing Mother's breasts, relishing their weight and volume. "I think it's just you and me, Mother." Mother smiled and began to rock on top of me, sliding her already spread labia up and down the growing length of my shaft. "I love you, son. So long have I denied what I yearned for...what we both wanted and needed. No more. I want you, John. Mother needs you inside me, loving me." I nodded and placing my hands on her waist, helped her to rise so that my cock could stand up on its own, the tip of my penis being kissed wetly by her pussy lips. Mother slowly descended on my erection, her back arching as her mouth dropped open in a display of pure carnal joy as she sobbed, "Yessssssss! I love you, son!" I watched in awe as I saw my reserved, shy mother unleash her lustful side, riding me wantonly, her hair flying all about as her breasts bounced wildly while sliding up and down my erect cock, aching and throbbing with the need to be inside her...to return to my beginnings, desiring nothing more than to mate with my perfect woman and lover, my beloved mother. Mother laughed and sobbed, her cries and screams of sexual delight doing much to dispel any lingering sense of death and foreboding that remained from Father's madness. Mother, who had always appeared to be younger than her years, seemed to grow younger still as with each successive orgasm seemed to shed years of stress and neglect and loneliness, now becoming an icon of ecstasy and love, the perfect embodiment of motherly beauty. At the height of her greatest orgasm yet, as her pussy juices bathed my aching cock in liquid fire and she sank deep onto my shaft, my swollen cock head nudging her cervix while she convulsed and moaned in absolute carnal joy, I thrust upwards to get even deeper and unleashed an almost painful flood of hot semen into her womb, suddenly aware that if she was to discover she was begotten with child in the next few months, that this was the moment that I claimed her as lover, wife and mother and as mother of our future children. Finally, Mother collapsed atop me, her lips wetly kissing mine, gasping, "I love you, son, I love you more than life itself," between our tongues caressing each other. We slept again, letting the sun warm our bodies, somehow knowing that we were safe...safer than we had even been before. We awoke sometime after noon, judging from the sun's travels across the blue sky, still perfect except for the continuing tower of smoke from the house. We made our way to the beach where we bathed in the surf, ridding ourselves of the smoke and stains of Father's attempted sacrifice from the night before. The old boathouse down by the dock was the only remaining intact structure on the island and while we resolved only to use it for shelter if the elements demanded it, I did manage to scavenge a few useful items: a buck knife that still had an edge, several dingy scraps of canvas that along with twine I used to fashion primitive footgear and ponchos. I also found some workable fishing gear and before dark had managed to land a large, but ugly fish that we cooked over a small fire we built on the edge of the beach. This combined with berries Mother found in the unblemished portion of the woods provided us a more than adequate repast to sate our appetites. Neither of us cared to wear the ponchos to cover our nakedness, discovering that in each other's company we were now not shy or modest. I fixed us a bed under a lean-to on the grassy edge of the beach and from it we watched the sun go down and spent the evening tending to our fire between bouts of passionate lovemaking. I was between Mother's legs, thrusting slowly into her as she squirmed beneath me when we both were suddenly aware that we were not alone. As one, we turned our gaze to the right where across the fire knelt Antonia and Hector – both smiling approvingly at us, their naked bodies evidencing the arousal that watching us produced. I started to rise, preparing to seize my small knife to defend us, but Mother wrapped her legs around my back and moaned, "No...let them watch as we watched them." She reached up and turned my face back towards hers, the campfire reflected in her smoldering gaze. "They do not threaten us, darling." I nodded, sensing the rightness in her words and resumed thrusting, sinking my turgid flesh into her wet, furnace-like pussy that gripped me like a vise. I focused all my efforts on pleasuring Mother, suddenly intent on demonstrating to Antonia and Hector that we were their equals when it came to incestuous love. Mother's every moan served me to work harder to please her, rolling and twisting my hips to increase her pleasure while my lips kissed and sucked at her succulent breasts and her luscious lips. Mother flexed and tightened her cunt muscles around my cock, her inner flesh, so wet and slick seeming to kiss and lick every inch of my swollen member. Our cries of pleasure filled the dark night air as we moved to orgasm as one being, our souls merged into one as we reached climax, the world fading for a moment, leaving us as the sum total of existence, wrapped in a universe of incestuous pleasure. When we returned to the world, and looked to Antonia and Hector, we found the son grinning from ear to ear and Antonia smiling at us beatifically as tears ran down her face. "You understand love as it was meant to be – the power, the rightness of it. I am so happy for you both." Antonia cast her eyes towards her lap and then murmured, "Please forgive us our deceptions...we would not have done what we have done if it wasn't necessary." Hector reached out and hugged his mother while looking at us. "Yes, friend John...at least I hope we are still friends. Forgive us." Mother and I shared a glance, our expressions agreeing that we sensed no evil in them. "There is nothing to forgive, but an explanation of what happened would be good," I said. Antonia nodded. "Yes, truth is...should always be the way." She rose up onto her knees and said softly. "We are Jandhi...a people destroyed and made homeless by the Others and those who would free them from their prison...Outside. We are Jandhi, dedicated to opposing the return of the Others wherever the threat of their return rises." She smiled sadly and continued. "So it was that I came to know your father, John...Professor Thomas Halloran in his quest for the truth of William Isprey and the Island of Isprey or as it has long been known to us, The Isle of Ithing'Val Hamg." She spit on the ground, a bitter expression passing briefly over her face. "Your father began as an academic searching for the truth behind a legend, but his curiosity was seduced and replaced by a desire for power, fed by the tendrils of the Others that pierce our world, begging for freedom and promising dark riches and power in return. Sad it is that humans are so frail and gullible...even a Jandhi can be swayed by promises of power and wealth and immortality. So it was that Thomas and my husband, Vincenzio were seduced, each pursuing their own darkest desires unto their deaths. Antonia eyed me, her face growing red as she spoke. "Your father saw me as an ally after the death of my husband and I did assist and advise him, helping to steer him to artifacts that he thought would bring him his prize and free the Other. There is much lore in the world concerning the Others." She grinned evilly before adding, "But most of it is false, planted and supported by the Jandhi...lies woven within myths." She gestured at herself and at us. "Incest is our best weapon. Reviled by so many cultures, yet as old as the beginning of our world, it is embraced by many of the Jandhi who recognize it for the pure form of love that it is. Your father believed that it was an unholy act that would allow for the breaking of the Other's chains. In truth, nothing could be farther from the truth." "How so?" asked Mother leaning forward, her eyes wide with fascination. The Others have no concept or understanding of love. In its purest forms, love fascinates them...they desire to understand, to participate...to know love. The love that a mother and child share, taken to its most intimate form is as close to 'holy' a concept as the Others have. It is what has protected us all these past weeks we have stayed on the island. Ithing'val Hamg yearns to have...to be what we are and would never harm us nor allow harm to come to any of us." "But John and I were not yet...lovers until last night. How were we protected before?" Mother asked softly. "Our desires were already there," I said immediately, the truth clear in my mind. "Hector and Antonia have long been lovers, but Mother, you and I were already traveling down that road long before we began to yield to our desires." Mother blushed a little, but nodded in agreement. "Yes, and such a pure love in genesis is fascinating to the Others...a rare privilege to witness incestuous love being born," said Antonia. "You two were...precious to it." "My dreams..." I began. Antonia nodded as Mother stared at me in surprise, suddenly comprehending. "Our dreams," she said, putting her hands in mine. These were the Other's doing? "Yes," replied Antonia. "It used your longing for each other to invade and link your dreaming minds and fulfill your lust and desires...coming as close to knowing what incestuous love is within your own sleeping lives." "But, Thomas...how did he survive so long?" asked Mother. Hector nodded and said, "The Other sensed your husband's desire to free it and let him be, hoping for deliverance. It was only when he incorrectly performed the spell of Summoning and threatened to end your incestuous existence that the fell being's wrath pierced its bonds and incinerated him...freedom or no, your love for each other demanded that it protect that holy thing." Mother shook her head and hesitated before asking, "But why let it come to this bloody end? I sense within you, Antonia, great power. Why did you not stop Thomas before we even came here?" Antonia looked into the fire, seeing something that only she could envision and gave a great sigh before she responded. "Life...even that as foolishly spent as was Thomas's is precious and while we will take life when we must, the Jandhi believe that everyone must have the chance to refuse to serve evil. I knew that the Other would protect you and strike down Thomas if he pursued his course to the end. Although, I have prayed for you and your son to know pure love, I had always hoped that in the end, Thomas would come to his senses. In the beginning and even towards the end, he was a friend to me and Hector and Vincenzio." I remembered Hector once telling me it would be up to his mother to speak of his father's passing when the moment was right. "Antonia, how did your husband die?" The olive-skinned woman was a long time answering – Hector reaching out his hand to her in a gesture of love and comfort. Finally, she said calmly, "I killed him, John. Vincenzio sought out and received the gift of immortality through an Other's gift of lycanthropy...a gift that required the slaying and feeding on innocent souls. I put a silver needle through his heart and sent his soul to the hell it deserved." I suddenly recalled the slender silver needle she'd often used to pin up her hair. The Island of I Ch. 03 There was a long silence before Mother rose and went to Antonia and kissed her on the lips gently. "I am so sorry for your loss and your pain, Antonia." She laughed bitterly. "I am sorry for the pain that both our husbands brought upon the world." I felt my cock begin to swell at the sight of Mother and Antonia, both lushly naked, kissing. A quick glance at Hector confirmed that he too found it quite erotic. Antonia kissed Mother back, gently, but very slowly as if relishing the taste of another woman's lips. "Pain we have suffered, true enough, Carmen, but we loved our husbands, yes, if for no other reason than they gave us our sons...our true soul mates." Tears ran down Mother's face as she nodded and replied, "Yes, Thank God for that. I will forever pray for Thomas's soul because he gave me John." Both women laughed and cried at the same time, pausing only to kiss one last time, no longer being chaste, but sharing tongues, Mother's face glowing at this new experience. When finally the two mothers ending their kiss, Antonia looked around at us and laughed, gesturing to our obvious erections as she said, "Ah yes, the blessings that are our sons are definitely evident and in demand of attention." She glanced at me and then returned her gaze to Mother as she said, "We would deem it a great honor to share this night with the two of you, celebrating our holy unions together." Mother returned to my side and waved mother and son to join us on our bed of leafy fronds and soft grass. "For us both," I replied, "It would be our honor." As if it had been long practice, Mother and Antonia lay down side by side, Mother's alabaster skin contrasting perfectly with Antonia's olive color, their bodies, while both lush and beautiful contrasting erotically as well – Mother's lanky, yet motherly form and Antonia's voluptuous figure...both evoking a powerful carnality. Mothers held out their arms and their sons moved to embrace them, Hector climbing between his mother's open thighs and I between Mother's welcoming legs. I felt Antonia's foot brushing my leg and looking down, I saw that her leg had crossed over Mother's joining the two women as their sons prepared to mount them and do them the homage of incestuous love. Before gazing into my face, Mother glanced over at Antonia who smiled at her and took Mother's offered hand. Then both mothers turned their attention to their sons, both crying out with uninhibited pleasure as Hector and I buried our cocks deep in our mothers' pussies. As I kissed Mother, my tongue busy tasting her lips, mouth and her wriggling tongue, I could hear the wet kisses of Antonia and Hector and images of mother and son fucking filled my mind alongside the reality of fucking my own mother. Mother's hands stroked my face as we kissed, little grunts of pleasure muffled by my mouth as I rammed my aching and swollen penis into her again and again, feeling bigger and longer than ever before, my desires to please her fed by her sounds of ecstasy. Beside us, Antonia was louder in her moans of utter pleasure, mayhap due to having longer experience in reveling in incestuous lovemaking. However, her cries and screams of pleasure were soon matched in intensity as Mother let her inhibitions dissipate, fueled by the sensation of my thick penis worming its way in and out of her clinging and hungry cunt. Hector and I rode our mothers with enthusiasm until the air reeked of sexual sweat, pussy juice and our own fluids. I could feel the presence of great power and perceived the presence of the Other close at hand. I minded him not, putting him out of my mind, safe and happy between my mother's legs. Mother came to orgasm first, sobbing out her love for me, quickly followed by Antonia, who was perhaps inspired by the sight of another mother fucking her son. Perhaps it was a product of Jahndi magic or the presence of the Other or perhaps simply the desire of Hector and myself to pleasure our mothers as never before, but neither of us yielded to climax ourselves...separately squelching the need to orgasm as we fucked our mothers late into the night. The images of that night will be forever burned into my brain and I will go to my grave happily remembering images of Mother and Antonia riding our cocks, their bodies rising and falling side by side as they impaled themselves again and again on their sons' long, erect penises. Holding hands, Antonia and my mother bounced up and down, sobbing and crying out their ecstasy, supporting each other through earth shattering orgasms, pausing between cries of "I love you, son!" and screams of incestuous passion to kiss each other, communing in a way that I found both alien and incredibly arousing. I recall Mother and Antonia on their hands and knees, sobbing and screaming as we fucked them from behind like virile beasts from a lost age, clawing at the leafy surface when not caressing each other's bodies or kissing, tongues working feverishly until their sons' never ceasing cocks drove them over the abyss again and again, forcing them to scream their pleasure to the heavens. Near dawn, Hector and I finally succumbed to our own needs. Hours of reckless sexual pleasure left us thickly coated in sweat, our cocks so hard and swollen, I wondered if I would simply burst. Mother's eyes were nearly glazed from more sexual pleasure than she had known in a lifetime as I was once more between her thighs, her ankles flung over my shoulders as I ceaselessly fucked her, each thrust into her fiery, slick pussy inspiring me to rededicate my efforts and never stop giving her as much pleasure as she gave me. "I'm cumming, Mother," I gasped as I felt an unstoppable flood rising from my testicles, my pleasure growing so intensely and so quickly I thought I might pass out! Beside me, Hector moaned, "Mama, here it comes!" Both mothers sobbed in anticipation, flinging their exhausted bodies up to receive our offerings. "I LOVE YOU, MOTHER!" I screamed at the top of my voice as I began to cum, my knees nearly buckling from the intensity of it. I felt as if a fire hose had erupted as I gushed more hot semen than I thought possible in one seemingly endless burst. Feeling my thick seed filling her womb triggered Mother's orgasm anew and just when I thought my ejaculation had ebbed, the pressure built and then exploded in a torrent of pleasure as I shot even more semen inside her. As intense as my orgasm was, Mother's appeared to be even more powerful as she bucked and convulsed against my thrusting cock. Antonia seemed to be reacting in a similar fashion as she lost her voice, her face muscles sticking out as she silently shrieked in ecstatic delight. "FUCK YES...LOVE YOUR CUM!" Mother screamed as her entire body rocked about and suddenly my erection was out of her, still spraying semen everywhere...powerful, supernatural gouts of hot sperm splattering across her stomach and breasts, landing in her open mouth while she writhed in an orgasm that seemed as if it might go on forever. Beside us, Antonia's body was in an orgasmic frenzy as she too had bucked her son out of her pussy from which a mammoth amount of semen appeared to be pouring, while Hector held his cock like a hose and splattered his thick seed over her voluptuous body. In a hoarse whisper, she was sobbing her now very familiar mantra, "Matre tiambo un umano un estastium victre diablas," interspersed with "I love you, my beloved son." Hector and I were long minutes catching our breath, so spent that it was all we could do to kneel between our mothers' thighs as our chests heaved and the sweat cooled on our bodies. The time was well spent as we watched Mother and Antonia quiver and moan while caressing their own flesh, rubbing our semen into their skin, giving it, I thought, a more lustrous glow than before. What parts of our sperm wasn't rubbed into flesh was scooped up and lewdly slurped, our mothers' grins telling us how much they had enjoyed it. When she could finally speak, Mother wheezed, "My god...what was that. I never dreamed a man and a woman could..." She shook her head, wordless in wonder. Antonia nodded and said, "A blessing, I think...from the Other or our own Gods in heaven, I am not sure. A miracle, certainly and one should never question or look at miracles too closely, but rather savor and remember them." Hector collapsed next to his mother who wrapped her arms around him, exhaustion setting in. I fell over next to Mother who weakly rolled into me, hugging me to her slick and sticky body. "I love you so much, son!" she murmured before her tongue slipped into my mouth. We kissed for a long time before weariness began to overwhelm me. Mother eased me over onto my back and sat there watching me. We both became aware that Antonia was sitting up as well, her gaze wandering back between her son's semi-erect and cum covered penis and my own. "Among the Jandhi who embrace incestuous love, there is a custom of courtesy that is observed when a mother and son share lovemaking with another mother and son couple," Antonia said softly between deep breaths. "To taste the fresh seed of another's son is considered a great honor to be offered. Carmen Halloran, I offer this honor to you. Antonia gestured to her son's penis, thickly coated with her juices and Hector's semen. Mother gasped, her eyes wide and round with surprise. She looked back at me with the question on her face and when I nodded, she moved quickly beside Hector and began to lower her head, pausing and looking up at the boy's mother to say, "Antonia, please, you would honor me if you would taste John's...er, seed too." The air was quickly full of the sound of Hector's and my moans as our mother's licked and sucked each other's son clean of our momentous sexual encounter. Antonia's tongue was everything I had dreamt it would be and more...her expertise and enthusiasm at sucking my sensitive penis was almost more than I could bear. From Hector's expression, my mother while less experienced was still demonstrating great skill as she rolled her tongue over his semi-erect cock and sucked him clean of his semen and his mother's juices. Antonia and Mother ended this wondrous night as they embraced one last time, their semen and pussy juice smeared lips pressing together as they shared a passionate kiss, passing back and forth the semen of their son's and each other's pussy creams. Despite the near Herculean sex of the night, I felt a stirring in my penis...a growing hunger for my mother. Antonia crawled to me and kissed me gently on the lips, her tongue slipping into my mouth to share the taste of all of us. She then kissed me on the forehead, the gesture of a loving mother before rising to her feet. I stood up too, a little unsteady even as Mother and Hector joined us after kissing as well. "Dawn is not far off and we must leave now," Antonia said with a sigh. "Fear not, your time on this island is at an end as well and you will not spend another night here." "You're leaving?" Mother said. "Now? Will you not wait with us for rescue, Antonia?" The dark haired woman shook her head ruefully and said, "No, we needs must travel a different path." Mother looked unhappy as she took my hand and I embraced her. "But, we promised that we would show you America." Antonia smiled and nodded, "And someday, you shall. We will come and spend much time with you and we will come to know you both so much more...intimately." The way she said the last word and the way she smiled at us when she said it, made my cock stir even more...her very tone promising so much. "But for now, there is a need for you two to be alone...to learn and grow together into the couple the Gods always meant for you to be." Hector hugged me tight and kissed my cheek, whispering, "Be well, brother. I know you will be the man your mother deserves!" He hugged and kissed Mother as well. Antonia took her son's hand after kissing me and then my mother and began walking away, moving down the beach. I suddenly called out, "Wait...Antonia, the words you chant while making love...what do they mean? I've always wanted to know." The Exotic woman grinned back and said in a loving voice, "Matre tiambo un umano un estastium victre diablas." She glanced at her son and replied, "Roughly translated, John, it means 'A mother and son's love is in ecstasy, victorious over the devil!" Mother and son turned and continued down the beach a ways and then halted. With the ocean breeze blowing her dark, curly hair all about, she looked over her shoulder and called out. "This is not goodbye. It is not the end. All things are just beginning. Be well and be happy!" We waved as they walked away, finally disappearing beyond the curve of the island. Mother turned and hugged herself to me and we retired to our bed, cuddling as the sun came up and falling into a peaceful sleep, neither of us speaking of how much we would miss Antonia and Hector, but intuitively knowing in our sadness of their parting that somehow, someday, we would meet them again. In time, our intuition proved correct and they have been and continue to be our dearest friends. We awoke in late afternoon just in time to see a warship approach off the coast. It was the U.S.S. Howard...a destroyer of the U.S. Navy come to investigate the still quite visible tower of smoke, the remnants of the great house which was now little more than rubble and ashes. We donned our makeshift canvas ponchos and greeted the small boat that came to the docks with all the enthusiasm that the survivors of great horror would muster. Captain King dutifully took down our story of how we survived Father's insanity although he had been consumed by the wildfire that had spread out of control during the ceremony that was the culmination of his madness. Our singed bodies along with the subsequent revelations during the investigation of Father's obsession with the occult and the story of Isprey himself cemented our story. The only mystery...the only omission of truth was what had happened to our housekeeper and her son. We confessed ignorance of their fate, suggesting that perhaps their bodies had been incinerated in the great conflagration. Father's charred, nearly cremated remains were buried at sea...neither of us willing to allow the possibility of his troubled spirit to linger on land. The incident was quickly and quietly buried by Meskatonic University which has had so many strange and troubling incidents throughout its history. We gave Father's remaining papers and books to the Meskatonic Library, ridding ourselves of all evidence that he'd ever existed. Following the insurance settlement, Mother and I relocated to the West Coast where I attended Stanford and became a chemical engineer. Mother and I have since lived our lives as husband and wife. It has been a long and happy life, blessed with three children now grown and gone – spread across the country. All know of our true relationship, but to date, none have pursued our path. What happened on what we now call the Island of I, marked us, but mostly in positive ways. Our love for each other has only grown and deepened with each passing year, achieving a greater intimacy than most could ever know. But it was many years before we even began to suspect how magically we were affected. Those incidents took place when I was eighteen and Mother was forty. Mother is now nearly ninety, but appears to be a very healthy and beautiful woman in her late fifties, while I even though I am approaching seventy years of age, appear to be a very youthful forty year old. In later years as we spent time with Antonia and Hector (who are similarly aging very slowly), Antonia explained that this was likely due to our bodies being exposed to incredible and unearthly energies that the Gods in their wisdom allowed us to retain and benefit from. Another result of what happened on the Island of I is that we are more attuned to the supernatural world. In our many journeys across America and indeed the world, Mother and I have sensed the presence of other imprisoned Others and have had an innate sense of the Jahndi who spend their lives guarding against the return of the Others. We are known to the Jahndi and we have come to know many of them – it always being an illuminating experience to meet those who know incestuous joy as we do. We do not fear the presence of Others, knowing that in our life and love together, Mother and I are considered holy and untouchable by those beings. That being said, we consider all these the least of the gifts of our time spent on the island. Our greatest gift is our love realized so long ago...a gift that renews itself daily in each other's arms as Mother and I make love...each time sweeter than the time before. The End