Matched with Mom?

All characters are 18 or older. This is a commissioned work for a patron.

***

An ignorant online fling ends in hot, incestuous breeding.

University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, April 2023

I sat trapped in the amphitheater-like lecture hall with my peers, a young man with too much to live for surrounded on all sides by a scholastic prison of wood, glass, and steel. Asymmetrical seating filled with shifting freshmen and sophomores curved down in rows that encircled the central presentation area, a sunken, circular dais of a stage and smartboard at the heart of the room. The air stank faintly of academia, of aged books and coffee; polished linoleum. It was the mental graveyard of youth like me, where high school dreams of greatness and freedom were dragged down into the reality of rooms like this one; that a $50,000 dollar-a-year education didn't teach you jack shit.

English 102: The Hubristic Chronicles in Literary Discourse was packed with a sea of students, probably because it was a requirement for way more exciting majors like Business, Pre-Law, Education, Journalism, and Social Sciences. I was one of the captive audience, sitting up in the nosebleed seats and bracing myself for another dreadful-ass 90 minutes of literary waterboarding. We'd covered Milton's Paradise Lost, Shakespeare's Macbeth, Melville's Moby-Dick, and parts of Dante's Divine Comedy. Today would introduce the last module of the course, along with the renewed promise of all the painstaking, old-school analysis that Professor Thompson continually demanded of us. At least it was the last one I'd have to slog through before the end of the semester and my freshman year.

My mind was on anything but English 102 as I checked my iPhone. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as I pushed my face into my screen, hunched forward on my elbows, thumbs flashing over the keyboard as I navigated my latest breakup. Emily Fischer.

Emily started out as a rebound after I ended a 3-week thing with Becky Lee last November. What was attractive at first with its ease and stability soon slumped into a boring and immature relationship -- Em's first -- where I had to patiently coach her through all her many insecurities. She wasn't particularly good-looking, but we shared a lot of interests and I liked spending time with her. Being perpetually stuck at second base for months made it all feel like a waste of time though, and I was sick of it -- especially sick of her immature bullshit as she became increasingly clingy and cringey to be around. I'd been ghosting her for the past few days and the texts were getting incessant.

[Zach: Please stop.]

[Emily: Why, because I'm just some inexperienced burden to you?]

[Zach: No. I need space. Can we please stop doing this and just move on?]

[Emily: You act like you're so perfect, Zach. Maybe if you were more understanding or patient, things would be different.]

[Zach: I've been patient tho. 5 months, Em. 5. And I've tried to understand. You don't want to put any effort into this.]

[Emily: Srsly you're so superficial.. You just care about sex.]

[Zach: No. I think you're an awesome person. But like I said it's not fair to either of us to keep going with this.]

[Zach: Sorry, I got class. g2g]

[Emily: Fine. Whatever. Fuck you🖕]

I sighed and put my phone down, then dropped my face into my hands. I was so fed up with college girls. After Sarah, Becky, and now Emily, I was starting to despair about the shallowness of the pool of women available to me on campus. None of them knew what they wanted out of a relationship and expected the world for nothing in return. I felt like either I'd have to give up and get married to my fucking left hand for the next 3 years or take the chase elsewhere and expand my hunting grounds.

I was pissed. Apathetic angst turned vengeful as I frowned deep and began deleting all the pictures of us on my phone. Yep. Emily wasn't pretty by any stretch of the imagination. Her body started out okay, but she began to really let herself go after we began dating. Whenever I tried to bring it up or take her to the gym with me, she'd get so fucking defensive and wail about me not liking her for how she was.

I felt a stab of anger and shame as I remembered all the nights Emily had refused to have sex or try anything new. She was fascinated by my big cock but in an infantile and unappreciative way. There was always some new excuse to keep us from taking things to the next level. First, she didn't trust me not to brag about taking her virginity (like that was a prize or something). Then she wanted to save herself. Then she wanted to make sure we were on a deep enough emotional level to take that next step -- like we were soulmates.

We'd dated for 5 months. 5 fucking months. What a waste.

I was so stupid.

As our pictures cycled into the trash, I looked at myself. The earlier the timestamp, the happier I seemed. I was a handsome white male with a friendly smile, 5'11, all lean, well-defined muscle that I'd developed since coming to college and working out 3-4 days a week. I'd been slightly overweight out of high school and I was determined to make a fresh start. My eyes were olive green and expressive, my jaw angular and my nose vaguely aquiline. My hair had started out as an unkempt, dark brown grungy mane but I'd gotten the sides buzzed down and left the top longer and styled.

When the last photo disappeared into the trash icon where it belonged, I felt a sense of relative, bittersweet closure. I was ready to prostrate myself at Professor Thompson's altar of literary masochism.

Speak of the devil. Thompson entered the lecture hall, a dusty old academic in every sense of the term. His disheveled salt-and-pepper hair fell haphazardly over his receding hairline, while a pair of round, wire-rimmed glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose. Not to be outdone as a stereotype, the professor wore one of those tweed jackets, its elbows thin from years of scholarly toil and doling out notoriously poor grades. A mismatched assortment of stickied lecture notes peeked out from the pockets of his jacket.

Professor Thompson's eyes peered over the rim of his glasses, scanning the colorful mob of shifting, murmuring GenZs. He cleared his throat, and the room fell silent, save for the occasional stifled yawn and phone ping.

"Yes, yes, settle down. Good morning, everyone," Professor Thompson began in his mesmerizing drone, hand gripping a yellowed copy of Sophocles' Oedipus Rex. "Here at the final leg of our course, we come to the origin of hubris -- a concept, judging by last week's quiz, half of you still don't seem to grasp. Do pay attention. We see the concept throughout history, in various cultures and belief systems, but it is first and best expressed in the literary work of the Greeks. The hubris of Prometheus, of Icarus, of the Trojans, and most notably, the Oedipus tragedies -- which I all hope you brought with you to class today. At its core, this masterwork explores the inescapable grip of fate and the dire consequences of unchecked pride."

Thompson paused, his voice taking on a hint of dramatic flair as he recited a quote from the play: "For whom the gods love dies young, he's their best: All's well with him..."

The professor's words flowed methodically, hypnotically, with no intention of reaching their destination anytime soon, if ever. He put down the book and started writing key points on the whiteboard in his flowing, near-indecipherable script. I sighed again and started taking notes, drifting in and out of focus. Professor Thompson went on and on about the finer details and implications of classic works of the time, about Greek hubris plays and the masks and the chorus, all shit I didn't care about and would never apply to me outside this goddamn requirement. I just wanted to study Journalism, for fuck's sake.

It felt like hours had passed before Thompson started to wind down.

"...The heart of the tragedy lies in Oedipus's relentless pursuit of truth and his gradual realization of what has transpired. Bucking the prophecy of Delphi in his hubris, marries Jocasta, the queen of Thebes, only to discover that she is not only his wife but his own mother, and they have unknowingly begat four children in incest: two sons, Eteocles and Polynices, and two daughters, Antigone and Ismene -- who are also his brothers and sisters."

There were some uncomfortable noises that rippled through the lecture hall, along with a few snickers. Thompson had either expected the reaction or ignored it.

"So too did Oedipus kill his own father Laius on the road to Thebes, unaware of his identity."

Damn, those Greeks were fucked up. I scribbled a few more notes, my attention returning. Thompson continued.

"Shattered by the revelation of his terrible deeds and true identity, Oedipus takes drastic action. 'I called her 'Mother.' Jocasta, come down. 'O God, you were right, it was true, all the prophecies. Now, 'O Light, may I look my last on you. I stand revealed at last -- cursed in my birth, cursed in marriage, cursed in the lives I cut down with these hands.'"

With a hint of morose satisfaction, Professor Thompson added, "Oedipus, in his anguish and despair, unable to handle the truth of his actions, blinds himself with the pins from Jocasta's gown, plunging himself into darkness, both literal and metaphorical."

I grimaced along with half of the student audience.

"The irony is that the man who set out to solve the riddle of his parentage and the plague that afflicted Thebes ends up being the cause of it," the professor went on. "In the end, Oedipus becomes an embodiment of the tragic flaw of pride and its consequences. Hubris."

The bell rang, mercifully signaling the end of the hour-and-a-half lecture.

"I expect you all to have read the play and accompanying materials from Freud by Wednesday, and the outline of the final essay by Friday!" Thompson called after us as we began to shuffle out, some bolting for the doors. "Topic to be approved by me next class, along with your reflection. Syllabus, syllabus, syllabus!"

Fuck me, that class was the worst.

I went straight back to my dorm, a coveted single in South Hall. Inside, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto my bed, sighing with relief. My dorm room was pretty spartan, with a bare wood floor and stock furniture. The desk was scattered with textbooks, notebooks, and my MacBook. I'd helped make the place more my own by putting up some band and movie posters, but it never really felt like home. I grew up right here in Ann Arbor, so felt the need to move out of my parents' place and strike out on my own, hence the thrilling dorm life. I missed home, honestly -- Mom, Dad, my dog. At least I'd be back for the summer -- with my older sister Chloe already gone, I was sure Mom and Dad would be thrilled to have me around after being empty nesters for a year.

It was only 2:30 pm but I was tired, bitter, and emotionally spent from the whole Emily thing. I just wanted a quiet place to relax and recharge. Maybe watch something before I hit the gym and took out all my angry energy on the treadmill and weights. Emily had sent me a few more texts but I refused to look at them, instead blocking her number.

"Man, this is such a fucking headache," I grumbled as I scrolled through my social media feeds. More shit about the political hellscape of our country, UFC matches I didn't care about...some new game releases...

I came across a Tinder ad on Instagram that caught my attention. It had a hot 30-something-year-old woman posing in a cafe. She was a knockout, with raven hair and hazel eyes, and a killer, womanly body. I checked the model out again and nodded quietly to myself.

Damn, okay.

Why the fuck wasn't I going after older women?

I sat up in bed, thinking hard. Yeah, okay, fear of rejection mostly. But I'd had a few girlfriends, so it wasn't like I was inexperienced. I was good-looking, and last I checked, I was pretty hung too. Age difference, maybe...but wasn't that a good thing? I kept staring at the ad.

SWIPE RIGHT TO MEET YOUR MATCH!

It was like an epiphany, lightning shot through my 19-year-old brain and directly into my dick.

Shit, I'd never thought about using a dating app like Tinder. It felt risky and kind of pathetic, but it was increasingly looking like a way into that new hunting ground I'd been aching for, away from the immature college girls I'd been stuck with since commencement. I needed to do something now to shake things up, to feel something more than this constant frustration and unfulfillment.

I still wasn't convinced though. What if my friends found out I was on Tinder, chasing MILFs? Or Sarah, or Becky, or Emily?

I went over to my desk and packed my bong. It was a cheap piece of shit; a plastic, purple pipe with a glass bowl and stem I'd been using for years. I grabbed my lighter and sparked the bud, holding the lighter to the weed in the chamber. The bowl glowed red, and the acrid, sweet scent of pot drifted up to tickle my nostrils. I took a deep hit and smoke filled my lungs; with practiced ease, I held it for a few seconds before letting it all out. My head began to spin pleasantly and my body relaxed. It was good weed, a potent Indica strain I'd gotten my hands on from the stoner kid a few floors below me. All the anxiety about my sex life started to ebb away.

"Yeah," I murmured to myself, feeling much better after a few hits, a satisfying heat and pressure settling behind my eyes. I set my bong on my nightstand and lay back on my bed, staring up at the large, luminous American flag that I'd draped over the skylight. I watched the light filtering through it, its edges flickering in the wind. It was like the colors were dancing, waving and swaying around me. I felt a strange dip of vertigo and

laughed to myself.

My mind was still on the idea of dating an older woman. How good it would feel to fuck a real woman instead of chasing yet another entitled coed bitch playing at adulthood.

SWIPE RIGHT TO MEET YOUR MATCH!

Maybe I was really stoned, or maybe my head was still stuck in E102, but for some reason, MacBeth popped into my lazy mind.

'If chance will have me king, why chance may crown me.'

Fuck, Shakespeare had it right, hadn't he? I reasoned it was worth a try.

I sat up and got to work, downloading the app and creating a profile. Pot smoke and chill hip-hop from my laptop's Spotify playlist steadily filtered through the dorm room.

'The ancestors guiding my pen

I know in this life that I did some wrong

And I'm tryna right all my sins

But not tryna write all my sins

And I'm still divided by this

And then I'm divided by that...'

It was simple until I got to the photo part. Despite the buzz, I suddenly felt really uneasy, even paranoid about posting my actual face on Tinder. I wasn't ashamed or anything, not at all, but I also didn't want my likeness out there on a fucking dating app, footprinted on the Internet in perpetuity for all eternity. Ok, ok. Compromise.

I got off my bed and pulled off my shirt to start taking selfies of my hairless toned chest, abs, and arms with my grinning face cut off just below the nose. I was in really good shape, fairly shredded after a year of hitting the gym hard almost every day. I was sure my young, strong, body would attract the right attention.

I took about a dozen pictures and posted the best one, along with a few others of me working out at the gym, most of my face cropped off, and one of me below the neck in a bathing suit on Playa Delfines Beach during Cancun for Spring Break a few weeks ago, flexing and showing off my abs.

I used my middle name, Aaron, and bumped my age up to 20. Student. In my profile, I wrote "Age is just a number. Swipe right if u wanna come explore with me >B)"

I was thinking about mentioning my dick size, a healthy near-nine inches of cut teenage white meat, but decided that going with a more refined profile might be better.

I hit 'save' and set my age range from 28 to 40. I sat back on my bed, still shirtless, and started scrolling through profiles.

It was a veritable feast of MILFs and pumas. Some were pretty and others not so much. Most were posing in bikinis, lingerie, or tight dresses. Others were more candid, their bodies captured in unguarded moments -- sitting by the pool, lounging on a couch, standing in their kitchens or bedrooms. It was a little creepy but at the same time, it was fucking hot. I swiped right on a few, just kind of casually, but one really caught my attention and made my cock jump.

SensualSiren, 37. Only 3 miles from me. Her face was mostly hidden by a strategically placed phone, but I could still see that she was a gorgeous woman. She had a dark, lustrous mane of hair and a pair of green eyes that peeked seductively over the rim of her sunglasses. It was a selfie she'd taken in a full-length mirror, showing off her body in a red lingerie set, a lacy red thong, and a matching sheer lace bra. SensualSiren was standing sideways, her tight, perfect ass sticking out and her large, shapely D-cup breasts jutting forward with just a bit of sag, like she'd breastfed at least one child. I felt my cock throb and harden in response to the sight.

The rest of her body was just as sexy and alluring. Siren was curvy, her stomach flat and inviting, childbearing hips. Her legs looked long and toned and her skin was smooth, with a light, freckled tan and a faint sheen of perspiration. The fake name might have been a red flag, but she was premium, Grade-A MILF. 100% woman.

Yeah, damn, this lady was HOT. I wished I could see all of her but wanted to fuck the living hell out of her all the same. I swiped right, knowing that it might take awhile for her to respond, if at all. My heart was beating fast as I stared at this SensualSiren MILF's body again. The fact that I couldn't see her face excited me and made the mystery all the more enticing. I mean, I got it -- my photos hid my face too. Hopefully she'd think the same of me.

I went back and checked out the rest of SensualSiren's photos. Lingerie, bikini, and one of her in a slinky black cocktail dress, her hair down. All the pics were taken with a portrait mode, minimizing the amount of her face she showed to anonymity, body always turned slightly away. She looked like a model. There was something intimate about Siren's photos that made me want to meet her even more.

I started to wonder what it'd feel like to be inside an older woman. What it'd be like to hold her in my arms, to feel her soft skin against mine, her body pressed to me, the warm, wet sensation of her ripe, mature pussy wrapped around my well-hung teenage cock. Her breasts larger and heavier than the coed chicks I'd been with before, nipples thicker and longer, used to being suckled.

I felt the hot rush of blood to my cock as I started to grow even harder.

It was like all my senses were heightened. The idea of a true woman -- an experienced, sensual, demonstrably fertile, sexually voracious woman -- filled my thoughts. The promise of a real, satisfying relationship. No games. Something much deeper and more primal. It had taken root in my mind and wouldn't let go.

My body was thrumming with sexual energy, my growing dick swelling to near-full hardness. I unbuttoned, unzipped, and wriggled my pants down my pelvis to free myself to the relief of the naked air. My turgid, aching dick jutted up and slapped wetly against my abs before I closed my fist around the thick base, feeling it twitch. I started jacking with the pre that'd already started oozing out, slow and purposeful, as I ran with the fantasy and started checking out MILF porn on my phone with the Pornhub search 'young guy pov MILF fuck'.

My head was spinning with lust as I looked through the thumbnails, the raw, sexual images slowly driving me crazy. I watched a few, pretending through the POV that I was fucking them all. A tall blonde, a petite redhead, a voluptuous, dark-haired Latina with great tits. They were all so goddamn hot. It was a fantasy world, a paradise of MILF pussy. I picked one, a guy laying on the bed while a brunette 30-something rode his hard cock with wild abandon. The woman moaned, bouncing her pelvis on him, her pendulous tits flopping with each rise and fall.

I groaned and stroked faster. My breathing quickened and I felt my cock swell with pleasure. As I jacked off, I suddenly narrowed my eyes as I noticed the woman cradling the subtle swell of her belly as she arched her back and thrust her hips forward. Oh shit, was she...pregnant? My eyes widened. Her belly was still mostly flat, but with the slightly pushed-out navel and rounded swell, it was clear that she was knocked up. A real mommy-to-be.

It somehow really turned me on.

"Fuck," I gasped. I'd never really considered the idea of having sex with a pregnant woman. Before this, the notion felt like putting gas into a totaled car, but now that I was on this older woman kick, the thought was a new turn-on. I kept jacking, looking at her little belly as it heaved during the rough sex. I mean, wasn't that the natural progression though? The idea of getting an older woman, a mother, knocked up with my own baby was so damn hot. Making her mine. A young stud totally invading her soccer mom life to replace her husband as a superior mate. I paused the video and went back to the search page, selecting a video of a MILF with a massive baby bump riding a 20-something guy, her 9-month stomach rippling with the motion.

Holy shit. The video was a close-up, focused on her bare, round, heavily pregnant belly, swollen tits resting on its shelf. I started to pump harder, gritting my teeth as I watched the video, imagining that my cock was inside her. The woman moaned in absolute, feral pleasure as she fucked the guy, her rounded bump rocking and undulating with the thrusts, hands cradling her abdomen.

I couldn't take it anymore and came. I gasped as I spurted hard, thick streams of cum all over my fist, stomach, and chest, the force of it taking me by surprise. My eyes rolled back and my whole body tensed as the orgasm swept through me, wave after wave. I shuddered, groaning with relief as it subsided and suffused me with afterglow.

Fuck, that was intense. I lay back and savored the warm, pleasant buzz from the weed and the post-nut bliss as I stared at my ceiling again. My cum glistened and dripped down my chest and onto my abs, my cock soft and shiny with my own lubricant. I took a deep breath and reached over to grab my increasingly used jerk-off towel from its place under my bed and wiped the thick, sticky seed clean.

I'd really came a lot. Shit. The videos had excited me way more than I'd expected with such a huge load. It was almost like the porn was a new, unexplored fetish or something.

I pulled up my jeans and chucked my sex towel into my hamper. Maybe I'd gotten a little carried away, but the thought of being with a sexy, older woman and breeding her was hot as hell. Maybe not an immediate thing, but eventually, if it ever got that far.

I got changed to go to the UMich fitness center closest to me, pulling on a sleeveless black Nike hoodie, gym shorts, and a pair of running shoes. I mixed up some C4 pre-workout powder and chugged the strange blue concoction from a plastic water bottle, chalky, gritty, and tasting vaguely of artificial orange. It gave me a serious boost though, enough to get me through my usual 3-hour workout. I grabbed my empty Wolverine Nalgene, student ID lanyard, and put in my Bose Sports earbuds to start my workout playlist.

'Take me back, to a place

Where I felt at home

Take me back, to a day

When we weren't alone

Take me back, to an age

When the world felt small

Way back beforeweblewitall...'

As I made my way through campus, head down, hood up, I started thinking about the end of the semester, about returning to my parent's place. Things with Mom and Dad were different now. I was an actual adult, off on my own. I'd kept my distance even though they just lived across town in Eberwhite, the beautiful suburb I grew up in with my sister. It'd been a good childhood with lots of love, but Chloe and I weren't all that close growing up even though we were just a year apart. I didn't have all the details, but knew my mother wanted a bigger family as she'd had us so young, but after me, that was it.

Mom and Dad were still married and seemed to be doing alright, but I wasn't as close with them as I used to be either. They didn't understand how hard college was for me, even if it wasn't a big deal academically.

The last time we'd been together was for two days on Christmas break, and that was awkward as hell. I'd made the mistake of bringing Emily over as Chloe wasn't coming. I could tell Mom didn't like Em. She kept her polite smile on the whole time, but her eyes were cold. When I was alone, she encouraged me to keep dating, and reminded me not-so-subtly that college was a time to experiment and meet new people. Emily had cut my homecoming short, insistent that my parents hated her. I'd resented it at the time, but Mom was right. As usual.

My mother was always the one I was closest to. I had a lot of her mannerisms, her expressions, and quirks. She was smart, funny, and very pretty. Mom and I were able to talk about almost everything, but I hadn't opened up to her since graduation. They had their lives and I was stepping into mine.

Mom was a specialist pediatric nurse at the Children's Hospital in Detroit. Dad was a simple, generous guy, a pharmacist. He loved sports -- a diehard Wolverine -- and he was the one who'd pushed me into football and soccer when I was younger. I hadn't been bad at either, but I'd lost interest as I got older.

Chloe was the black sheep of the family, a ballerina tween-turned-hardcore punker who played lead guitar in some band and had a dozen piercings. Mom had a hard time relating to her and tried too hard, while Dad was happy as long as his kids were happy. Chloe'd fucked off to Parson's in New York to study Fashion or something and I hadn't seen her or really talked to her for 2 years.

But whatever. It was a nice day, the sky bright blue and cloudless, the sun warm. I passed campus buildings, the library, and the grassy quad. A lot of UMich students were out enjoying the nice weather, sprawled on the grass, hanging out, and sitting in clusters. I was just one person in the crowd, a peer but still a stranger.

'...I wanna feel again

I need a couple friends

I never really understood just how the story ends

But I can feel it's tense

Don't know the consequence

The volatility of life my only confidence...'

I hit the gym hard. Deadlifts, bicep curls, shoulder press, lat pull downs, and core work. I finished the whole circuit and headed over to the weights rack. I set up the bench press, warming up and then getting serious. There were some other regulars there, like Luke and Sebastian, but we mostly kept to ourselves unless we needed a spot.

It was a great way to clear my head, honing my body and feeling the burn in my muscles. I did another circuit, then a savage round of diamond pushups, then crunches. It was a brutal routine, but the payoff was worth it. I decided to do my cardio outside with a long-distance jog around the university to enjoy the beautiful spring weather some more.

I ran the whole 3.3-mile circumference of the campus, passing the U-M hospital, the art museum, the Rackham building, and the Diag. It was a gorgeous place, with the old buildings, the sprawling campus grounds, and the green lawns. I'd run this route so many times that the path was familiar and I could let my mind wander, legs on autopilot. The temperature was perfect, and soon I'd worked up a good sweat. I took a break halfway to hydrate and catch my breath, enjoying the beauty of Ann Arbor's spring. Magnolias, cherry trees, and dogwoods, all blooming and blanketing the sides of the road in a riot of blossoming colors. The crisp air smelled amazing. The only time that might've been more beautiful in Michigan was fall.

Yeah, it wasn't all about the in-state tuition; I had a lot of good memories in my hometown. I could have chosen UCLA or Chicago University, but I just didn't want to leave. Maybe subconsciously I wanted the familiarity, the proximity to home. I was almost pulled from school back in 11th grade due to severe clinical depression; through a combination of counseling, Paxil, and a lot of understanding and love from my parents, I'd come out of it at the start of my senior year. Still, scars from that time remained, and I often had to check myself to ensure I wasn't falling back into that dark place without a bottom.

Sometimes I felt like the meds had fucked with my personality; like I wasn't as fun as I used to be or something, and at the worst, like, maybe I was the problem in all my relationships. Like my game had to be re-learned after a socio-emotional stroke or something. Being in familiar surroundings for such a big life shift kept me grounded, just like working out did. And damn, it was hard to feel down on a day like this.

The chiming of the Burton Tower carillon nudged me back and I started off with an easy jog again. By the time I was finished, I was soaked, breathing hard, and had a solid runner's high.

***

On the way back to South Hall, my phone buzzed. Tinder notifications. I checked with a suddenly elevated heartrate, but felt let down that none of them were SensualSiren -- just a few lesser pumas that'd had swiped right on me. I flirted with them but disappointingly, none of the convos went anywhere.

My day, which had started out with such crazy promise, settled back into tedious normalcy. Later that afternoon I sat through Communication 240: Introduction to Media Studies, another lecture course, but way less hellish than English 102. After hanging out with friends, I found myself right back in my room again, late, listening to music in a tank top and boxers. I was hunched up at my desk, trying to rework the topic for my upcoming Thompson paper so it sounded enough like me and less like ChatGPT to pass scrutiny. Printed notes from the required readings on Freud were strewn around my laptop, highlighted in orange. I hadn't gotten far.

"Oedipus: A Literal Motherfucker" obviously didn't fly. Neither did "The Psychoanalytic Undertones of Literary Freudianism" or "Why Freud is Full of Shit: How Freud Got Everything Wrong" or "How Freud Went Full-on Narcissistic Rage with His Mother and Father". I was stuck.

'...I'm so high at the moment

I'm so caught up in this

Yeah, we're just young, dumb and broke

But we still got love to give

While we're young dumb

Young, young dumb and broke...'

"Fuck," I grumbled, tossing my mechanical pencil aside and stretching out my hand. My brain felt fried.

My phone vibrated and the Tinder notification bell chimed.

It's a Match! You and SensualSiren have liked each other.

Oh shit, this was it. The fuckin' summa cum laude of MILFs! Okay. Okay... I'd make the first move. I steadied myself and swiped open the app to click 'Send a Message'.

[Aaron: Hey there, gorgeous.]

5 minutes later, she messaged me back.

[SensualSiren: Hi handsome.]

[Aaron: Your profile's super hot, babe.]

[SensualSiren: So is yours, stud. You're so sexy. I love your body, and that smile? I can't stop thinking about you.]

[Aaron: Glad I have an effect on you ;)]

[SensualSiren: I bet. When do I get to see the rest of that cute face of yours?]

[Aaron: When you show me yours, baby.]

[SensualSiren: Touche. Let's just take that part slow, shall we?]

[Aaron: Yeah, sure thing, I feel the same way.]

[SensualSiren: That's very sweet of you.]

[Aaron: No problem, baby. Can't wait to get to know you better.]

I took the phone back to my bed and reclined against the headboard. I was already hard just talking to her.

[SensualSiren: I look forward to it. So, what's your major, handsome? Tell me a bit about yourself.]

[Aaron: I'm at UM. Undecided, but I'm thinking about Journalism or maybe Marketing.]

[SensualSiren: What a coincidence. My son goes to UM.]

I paused, and my heartbeat picked up.

[Aaron: Does that make this weird?]

[SensualSiren: Of course not, honey. I just think it's so cute and hot. The idea of a young, handsome, athletic college guy, just like my son.]

I grinned. Damn she was one horny, filthy-minded slut.

[Aaron: You mustve had him young tho]

[SensualSiren: 19]

[Aaron: Wow, you must be super fit and have great skin if you had a kid at 19.]

[SensualSiren: 2 actually. But let's not talk about them.]

[Aaron: Sure. I can't believe you're so fit. You're crazy gorgeous. what's your secret]

[SensualSiren: Yoga, pilates, some weights here and there. Oh, and I'm a jogger now.]

My desires were starting to take over and I decided to be a little more forward.

[Aaron: Sure. truth be told I've been fantasizing about you all day]

[SensualSiren: Ohhh... Do tell. What do you think about when you touch yourself, Aaron?]

Oh fuuck. I grabbed my cock and gave it a good squeeze for relief as I started to painfully chafe against my boxers. This was getting real, fast.

[Aaron: Your beautiful mouth and tongue sucking my big dick.]

[SensualSiren: Hmmm... Interesting choice. And you have a big dick?]

[Aaron: Well I can't see your boobs or your pussy in your photos, so...]

[Aaron: and yea I do. its about 9 inches..]

She didn't reply for a couple of minutes as I began to harden even more.

[Aaron: you wanna see it?]

Her silence lasted several more minutes this time. The suspense was exhilarating, excruciating.

[SensualSiren: Yes.]

[Aaron: Okay. You're making me really hard right now.]

[SensualSiren: Mm I don't normally do this, but I really want to see.]

[Aaron: You got an email address?]

[SensualSiren: I don't think so. I don't like giving out my personal details to strangers online. It's a risk.]

[Aaron: Don't worry. Just make a new one on gmail or yahoo or something. Just for us. I can't send anything on Tindr]

Another long pause.

[SensualSiren: OK I can try. It might be a little while, though.]

[Aaron: That's ok, I need to make one too]

I made a dummy account while I waited, [email protected]. I felt such a secretive rush at what we were doing. I'd never fucked around like this on the Internet before, but the anonymity had made me really bold, much more than usual. We were just two consenting adults, male and female -- nothing but mammals, right? The age difference didn't matter. We were moving fast, but I didn't care. My dick was in control and I wanted to see where it'd take us.

10 minutes later, she finally replied.

[SensualSiren: Here. [email protected]]

[SensualSiren: Now show me that cock.]

[Aaron: Give me a sec.]

I sent her a photo of my fully erect, thick, veiny cock, and another shot from below, showing my muscular chest and abs.

[Aaron: That's me.]

[SensualSiren: Goodness, I wish I had that cock inside me right now. You're so beautiful, baby.]

I grinned and started slowly stroking my length.

[Aaron: Thank you, ma'am. Me too.]

[SensualSiren: You have such a nice cock, Aaron. How old are you, again?]

[Aaron: 19 almost 20]

[SensualSiren: That is SO young, honey. Your cock is so big and perfect, and you're just gorgeous. How's a woman supposed to resist?]

I started stroking myself again, and took a short video of my cock throbbing and pulsing, precum glistening as I started jacking it. I sent it to her inbox with a bite of my lip.

[Aaron: Fuck you're making me really hard. Check your email]

A minute or so later, she responded.

[SensualSiren: Ohhh wow. Is that all for me?]

[Aaron: Hell yes. All for you.]

[Aaron: I wanna see your tits babe. Your pussy. Something. Please.]

The pause was even longer now.

[Aaron: It's okay, this is all anonymous, and for what its worth I would never share it. you already have my dick lol]

[SensualSiren: Ok. Just be patient.]

I started pumping myself faster, watching her typing.

[SensualSiren: Here goes nothing.]

A few seconds later, I got an email notification. I opened it, and my breath caught in my throat.

The image showed her large, perfect teardrop breasts, taut and supple, capped with hard, puffy pink eraser-like nipples. Siren's pale flesh was very slightly veiny and looked so full. God, her tits were fucking beautiful. I could only imagine the feeling of them in my hands, the softness and the weight. My cock lurched at the sight. As I slowly pumped my shaft, my thoughts turned even more lewd. I wanted our future babies to feed at this woman's ripe, mature breasts. The photo was cropped at Siren's neck, though I could see her dark hair cascading down the front of her shoulders. She had a very fine dusting of freckles over her collarbones and upper chest that was somehow endearing.

[Aaron: Jesus your boobs are gorgeous]

[Aaron: You are so sexy]

[SensualSiren: Mmm, glad you like them.]

[Aaron: I fucking LOVE them]

[You're so sweet.]

[Aaron: can you send the full version pls ;)]

[Aaron: If not thats okay, I just want to see as much as I can]

Siren took another minute or so, then I heard the email notification.

The picture was a mirror selfie of Siren, naked, facing away, looking over her shoulder and smiling seductively at the camera, her hand in her hair, her toned, lithe feminine back, great ass, and long legs all visible. With her small waist and flared hips, SensualSiren had the perfect hourglass figure. Her dark wavy hair hung down the side of her back, and I could see a few more freckles kissing the tops of her shoulders. Her face was vexingly obscured by the phone in the selfie again, leaving just her smoky, mascara-ringed eyes.

"You've gotta be kidding me," I muttered. I couldn't believe she'd actually sent a full-body pic. Siren was so. Fucking. Hot. Her legs were slender and smooth, and her ass was tight and round. Couldn't see any cellulite. Whatever she was doing was working.

[Aaron: FUUCK you're so hot. What a body]

[SensualSiren: You're quite the flatterer, aren't you?]

[Aaron: I'm not lying. I'm so hard..Your body is incredible, you're so fucking sexy. I can't wait to have you]

[SensualSiren: My, my, aren't we impatient?]

[Aaron: Yeah well youre the hottest thing I've ever seen. I just can't help myself,, Im dying for you..]

[SensualSiren: Are you touching yourself?]

[Aaron: you wanna watch me?]

[SensualSiren: Please.]

[Aaron: OK]

I stripped and put the phone down on the bedside table, angled to the side to film just below my chin. I gripped my big cock and started pumping it hard, showing the length and the thickness like I was some kind of tribal hopeful trying to attract a mate. Displaying my strong young body, offering her a glimpse of my potency, my maleness; my promise as a lover and stud. My mostly hairless body was covered in a light sheen of sweat and I grunted through my teeth, putting on a show as I felt the tension mounting in my groin.

I kept thinking about the photo Siren'd sent of her tits and the one of her back, ass, beautiful curves and the promise of her sex. I couldn't wait to see her fully, to be with her, to feel her hot, womanly pussy enveloping my dick. My strokes got faster as my hips arched, my right hand moving down to cup my full, heavy balls. I wanted to give Siren a show.

I stifled a groan as my cock swelled even bigger. I couldn't believe this was happening, that such an incredible MILF had fallen for me and was letting me do this. Siren would be watching, fucking herself to me. The fact that I was probably her son's age and she liked that pushed me even closer to the edge. She was such a fucking wanton slut. I wanted to claim her in the most primal, bestial way. I started moaning, my breaths short, fast, ragged.

"Fffuck... fffuuhhhkk... ahhh, fuuuuuucckkk," I gasped. My big dick erupted a huge load of cum, thick, white ropes splashing my chest and abs. A few strings landed on the bed too. I stroked myself for a little while longer, until the pleasure turned to overstimulation and I let go, panting. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I grinned, reaching over for the phone to switch off the recording.

Send.

[Aaron: That's what you did to me. I wish it was inside your hot cunt]

She was quiet, probably watching. After several minutes, she finally replied.

[SensualSiren: That was so, so good. I haven't cum like that in a long time. ;)]

[SensualSiren: You have a beautiful, perfect cock and such a yummy body, Aaron. I can give you one more since you've been so sweet to me tonight.]

My heart skipped.

[Aaron: Yes please.]

10 minutes passed. While I waited, I cleaned myself up and got ready for bed, constantly checking my screen. Finally, my phone vibrated.

An email came through and I opened the photo with a quickened pulse.

She'd sent me a close-up of her pussy, the swollen, puffy lips parted and glistening. Siren was so wet, drenching the feminine thatch of thick, dark-trimmed hair on her mons. I couldn't believe how turned on I was by a photo of an older woman's cunt, but Siren's was just fucking incredible.

[SensualSiren: Do you like this one, honey? Is it what you were hoping for?]

[Aaron: Holy fuck yes! Your pussy is beautiful. Its perfect. You're perfect]

[SensualSiren: I just finished playing with myself again, thinking about your dick. Mm it was very nice. Not as nice as the real thing, of course.]

After a few minutes, the message window filled with words.

[SensualSiren: I realize what we've been doing tonight was a lot of fun. But there are a few things I need to warn you about. I'm a mom, and I've been married to the same man since I was in college. I'm not a party girl. I'm not looking to be a sugar mommy, and I'm not looking for someone to just have a fling with. I'm not saying this isn't going anywhere, because it could, and we have chemistry, but this isn't going to be casual. If I were to sleep with you, it wouldn't be just for a fun night. Do you understand? So, if that's a dealbreaker, or if you're not interested in dating or a relationship, you should tell me now.]

I rubbed my cheek, screwing up my face some as I read her essay. Wait, was she saying she was still married? Siren was cheating on her husband with me? I didn't know how to feel about that at first. A vague, cold sense of wrongness sifted through me at the thought, but at the same time, my cock was hardening again.

Ultimately, I was too turned on by SensualSiren to let her go, even if it meant fucking with her marriage. And, I rationalized, if her husband wasn't taking care of this goddess, wasn't that his fault?

[Aaron: No that's fine. I'm not just looking for a fun time either, if you know what I mean]

[Aaron: And yes I'd love to see you, date you. When you're ready. I mean, when we're both ready.]

[SensualSiren: Thank you, honey. Just so we're clear, I'm still married. But it's complicated. So you'll understand if I don't feel comfortable showing you my face or taking this to the next level for a little while.]

[Aaron: Oh I see]

[Aaron: Sure, I'll wait, however long you need]

[Aaron: Just be fair and let me know if you want to stop. I'll get it. But I'm very interested. I don't care about the marriage thing, either. We'll figure it out, whatever happens]

[SensualSiren: Thank you for your patience and understanding, honey. You're so sweet. Now give your big beautiful cock a rest for me, okay? He has a lot of work to do. ;) Goodnight. Talk soon. xoxo]

[Aaron: Gnight. Hope you enjoyed yourself too. Sweet dreams, beautiful.]

I had a big, shit-eating grin as I got under my covers and finally put my phone aside to sleep.

***

Over the next month, we talked on Tinder constantly and fucked around almost every night. We got closer, even though Siren still wanted to keep things at arm's length in real life. We only had one rule: no personal information that could identify either of us. She was still cautious over her adulterous, digital affair and wanted to protect herself and me. Any suspicions I had of Siren being a catfish were quickly put to rest when she called out my name and did requests; different positions, places, or filthy stuff like jilling for me while wearing her wedding ring. Siren was the real deal, and was totally into me.

We talked about sex a lot. It sounded like she loved it, but her husband hadn't touched her in a long time. Fucking wimp asshole.

Agonizingly, Siren still wasn't ready yet to take that final step into full infidelity and meet. But I'd committed to my lover, to wait as long as it took. I stopped using Tinder for anything but her -- I was totally infatuated with this woman. It was crazy, but the feelings were getting stronger, and I was pretty sure Siren was starting to feel the same way. I always wanted to go further, but not at the expense of making my new woman skittish. I had to be content with being her first and only cybersex partner.

As a result, our connection was intense. We were getting to know each other, bonding. It was exciting. SensualSiren was a real person, and the more we talked, the more I fell in love with her. We chatted every day and night. The more we connected, the more open and free she became. Siren had an incredibly dirty mind and a great sense of humor; she was surprisingly adventurous and curious too. When we talked, it was like how I talked with my mom, deep and trusting -- but it was more than that. Siren was my lover. She was the only woman I ever wanted.

Just like me, SensualSiren was insatiable, and the more we talked, the more confident and comfortable she became, the kinkier she got. She was a total freak. One night after she told me about this wild dream where I fucked her in an alley like a streetwalker.

[Aaron: You're a dirty, horny slut, aren't you] I teased.

[SensualSiren: Mhm. Guilty as charged. Just a horny married woman, baby.]

[Aaron: Are you fingering yourself again?]

[SensualSiren: Uh-huh. Are you touching yourself?]

I got hard so easily for her now. I let my cock spring free, jacking it nice and slow as I sat on my bed in my boxers and a loose workout tank.

[Aaron: I am now. What're you thinking about]

[SensualSiren: You, inside me. That big fucking cock of yours. Filling me up. Fucking me so good. Taking me like a man.]

[Aaron: How many times did you play with yourself today?]

[SensualSiren: Mm Five.]

[Aaron: Jesus..no wonder youre having crazy sex dreams]

[SensualSiren: You should talk, buster.]

I smiled, my cheeks hot.

[Aaron: How about you are the sexiest, most beautiful, hottest woman I've ever known?]

[SensualSiren: Mmm. Thank you, honey.]

[Aaron: When are we going to meet up?]

[SensualSiren: Patience, patience.]

[Aaron: School's over in a couple weeks. Maybe we can meet up then??]

[SensualSiren: Hmm. Maybe. I need some more time. Please, sweetie. Be patient.]

I felt a stab of frustration. I decided to be a little more direct.

[Aaron: It's not me is it? Does it bother you that I'm the same age as your son or something?]

She paused before answering.

[SensualSiren: Not anymore. I was worried at first, but I don't think of you as the same age as him. You're a lot alike, to be frank. But you're also very different. No, it doesn't bother me now.]

I didn't say anything.

[SensualSiren: It's a bit more than that, Aaron. I do want you. I've been thinking about it a lot. I'm just nervous. But I'm not going to change my mind either. Finish your studies and then...then we'll find a time and a place.]

Oh thank fuck. Siren was finally coming around. I started jacking off even harder just thinking about meeting up with her in the flesh after all our cyber games.

[Aaron: Ok. Thanks Siren. I'm glad you're willing to try. I'm gonna make you so happy. I promise]

[SensualSiren: :) Thank YOU, sweetheart.]

The sex fog dulled my inhibitions. I'd never discussed the fantasy with her before now, but I let it slip. It felt right.

[Aaron: I'm gonna start saving up my cum for you so we can go raw]

[SensualSiren: Let's not get ahead of ourselves there, Tiger.]

[Aaron: You'd look so fucking hot carrying my baby. Just sayin]

[SensualSiren: Mm. Maybe. You ARE a naughty boy, aren't you. But let's not get carried away, Aaron.]

[Aaron: Would you really, though? Fuck I'd love that. Making you pregnant, knocking you up, watching your belly grow with our baby inside you]

I saw her writing, then stop, then write and stop.

[SensualSiren: Shit, Aaron. This is turning me on.]

[Aaron: I'm just saying, no condoms. When you're ready, and we can be together, you're going to get pregnant.]

[SensualSiren: OMG, honey, don't. That's so fucking hot. You're making me crazy.]

[Aaron: That's the idea. You want that, don't you? You want my 19 yr old cock to make you pregnant, don't you, you want a baby from a stud as young as your own son]

[SensualSiren: Oh, honey. Don't say those things, or I'll never stop playing with myself]

I was jacking it furiously now. Stopping to type was edging me towards a massive, aching climax, my fingers slick and sticky, fumbling and smearing across the touchscreen.

[Aaron: Good. Make that pussy nice an wetfor me. I wanna stretch it out babe,, when I get my hands on you. You're mine. Your body is mineim gonna fuck your brains out and ur going to love it. I'm gonna fuck you so good andmake you so fucking pregnant]

Then she told me everything I ever wanted to hear.

[SensualSiren: FUCK you're really getting me worked up, baby. I'm going to take every drop of that delicious cum and I'm going to make sure you impregnate me. I want to feel a baby growing inside me. I'll have our child, honey. You'll make me pregnant, and I'll be the best mommy for our baby, I promise. You'll knock me up, won't you, my sweet, sexy, perfect boy?]

My dick was aching in my fist. She was tapping into every single one of my fantasies.

[Aaron: gonna cu m ssoon]

[SensualSiren: Cum inside me, baby. Come on, knock me up.]

"Nnnngggg, shiiiit," I grunted, jerking through a powerful orgasm. My cock pulsed and shot a thick, huge load into my waiting sex towel, spurt after spurt of pure, primal lust. My balls ached, the pleasure so intense as I got off on so many of my filthy kinks. My heart was pounding, my breath quick.

[SensualSiren: Damn that was hot.]

[Aaron: You came too?]

[SensualSiren: Oh yes. :D Pretty hard at that. Made a little mess over here.]

After another pause, several lines of her text appeared.

[SensualSiren: But that's just a fun little fantasy. My husband would kill me if I really got pregnant. So playing pretend is one thing, but when we meet, we have to be safe, okay? Please, sweetie, it's not a joke, it's not a game. I've told you, my family is a mess. You and I are going to have a tough enough time being together without me having a child by you.]

I respected that, but the part of me that so easily gave in to my teenage desires wanted to knock Siren up no matter the consequences. It wasn't that I didn't believe her, it's just that the desire to breed this woman was irresistible to me.

[Aaron: yeah OK. But still. Gonna fuck you bareback ]:D]

[SensualSiren: Ugh. Sweet boy. Now give that beautiful cock a break, okay? It's been a busy night. Let me go to bed, please. I've got an early shift tomorrow.]

[Aaron: Have a good sleep, beautiful. Talk to you soon]

[SensualSiren: OK. You, too, sweetie. Goodnight. Xoxo]

***

I ended up getting a B- in English 102, probably because I bombed my final paper. I tried to make the argument that Oedipus' tragic fate wasn't entirely his fault -- he never had free will in the first place. A corrupt, unforgiving society, a god-fucked universe, and an inescapable prophecy stacked the deck against him. Like what, was he just supposed to crawl under a rock or something? At least Oedipus became king. Didn't Milton write 'Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav'n'?'

I thought it was a compelling argument, but Professor Thompson absolutely hated it. He struck me down, Prometheus-style with a C-, saying 'I didn't get the point of hubris and my paper itself was proof of that'.

But whatever. I had an A- on the bullshit midterm paper so it wasn't a total loss. And I was too busy with Tinder and Siren to care that much. Fuck that class anyway. My grades overall semester 2 had been good enough that I could just let it go.

'I try all things, I achieve what I can.' Call me Ishmael, bitch.

As school wound down, Siren was getting more and more flirty and adventurous. I didn't know if she was serious, or if it was just part of the kink and the dirty talk that came with it, but she loved to tease me about getting pregnant. She tortured me with the knowledge that she wasn't on birth control -- she didn't like what the pill did to her body. It was a strange, highly erotic dance between us; me with a nascent fetish starting to fully form, her definitely turned on by it but also trying to keep a clear head.

Siren was full of contradictions. She was an older woman, a mom, but there she was, acting like such a slut for her younger lover. She was so horny, but still had her reservations, her boundaries. I could feel Siren pulling back sometimes, getting scared. But I was always there to keep her grounded in us.

We were building that connection. Becoming a couple. She was starting to open up and trust me. I could feel it.

After I packed up and said my summer goodbyes to my buddies, I drove my beloved piece-of-shit 2008 Pontiac Grand Prix towards Eberwhite, windows down, radio blasting WCBN, the wind rushing by as warm Michigan May enveloped me on the road home.

'...And that's about the time she walked away from me

Nobody likes you when you're twenty-three

And you still act like you're in freshman year

What the hell is wrong with me?

My friends say I should act my age

(What's my age again?)

(What's my age again?)...'

Eberwhite was a quiet suburb of Ann Arbor, full of large homes and green lawns -- a nice, comfortable, whitebread middle-class haven where everyone knew everyone else. Our place was a two-story remodeled cream-colored colonial-style house -- 1839 Sycamore Drive, flanked with huge trees and a massive backyard I used to play in all the time when me and Chloe were kids.

I parked my car in the long driveway behind Mom's Lincoln and Dad's old BMW. The garage door was open but fully occupied with my father's obsession -- his partially-restored 1979 Chevy Camaro, which felt like he spent more time and money on than his wife and kids combined.

It felt weird coming back home after living away for almost a year. I hadn't seen my parents since that disastrous Christmas; practically forever. I was looking forward to hanging out with them and maybe spending some time at the lake.

I grabbed my stuff and hauled it into the house. As I shut the door and put my suitcases down, my dog, a black lab named Chance, came running over and started jumping up and barking happily at me. His tail was wagging like it was about to take off.

"Hey buddy, whoseagoodboy?" I grinned, rubbing him behind the ears. "Missed me?"

"Zach?" I heard my mother's pleasant voice call from the kitchen.

"Yeah, it's me," I answered, scratching Chance's head before he scampered off.

"Oh, hi!" Mom beamed, walking around the corner and into the foyer with a big smile that just lit up the room.

Mom was a truly beautiful woman. She had the most gorgeous face, soft and warm, and her green eyes shone with sharp intelligence and motherly affection. Her lips were full, her smile bright. She had a cute little upturned nose and a slender, delicate neck. Her dark brown hair, so like mine, was pulled into a ponytail. She'd applied some makeup around her eyes but I didn't know who she was trying to impress. Rekindle the old flame with Dad?

In her later 30s, Mom was still young. She looked really, really fit and trim. I couldn't help but check out her body. She was tall, almost as tall as me, her body strong and taut, breasts pert and full under her plain white t-shirt. Her legs were long and toned, firm ass filling her mom jeans. Had she been working out these past months too?

Damn, Mom. It made me feel a little strange to look at her like that; confused. She had a smoking hot body, the kind that belonged to Siren. They could almost be sisters or something.

"My handsome boy," she smiled, wrapping her arms around me and giving me a big hug. I squeezed her back. She smelled like lilacs and cinnamon. I noticed a smattering of flour on her cheek.

"Hi, Mom," I said, closing my eyes, my chin resting on her shoulder as I squeezed her back.

"Oh, it's so good to see you," she breathed softly. "It's been forever and you're practically just down the road."

"I know, I know," I replied. It felt really good to be held by her again.

"Well, let me look at you, Zachary," Mom said, stepping back to hold my arms and smile, checking me over.

"I'm fine, Mom," I laughed. "School's out, I survived."

She touched my tightly muscled limbs, marveling at them.

"My gosh, sweetie. You've been working out, haven't you?"

"Yeah, a little," I admitted. "5 days a week now."

"Wow. Look at those muskles. Hercules-Hercules!" Mom clapped with playful obnoxiousness.

"Jesus, Mom, that's embarrassing..." I groused out of the corner of my mouth as I peeled her off me. "Where's Dad?"

"Out back, grilling."

"All right, I'll go see him. Do you know if Chole's coming?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, honey," My mom said sadly with a little shrug of her shoulder.

"She's not talking to you, either?" I asked, surprised.

"No. Let's just give her time and space," Mom said with a quiet frown, holding in the pain. "That's...what she needs."

"Oh, okay." I nodded.

When I'd had depression, my parents focused everything on getting me better. All their concern, their love, their attention. Mom was in 24/7 crisis mode, afraid I'd get worse. She'd stayed up late, calling hospitals and trying to find the best psychologists, arguing with therapists over treatments, battling insurance companies. She was my number one advocate. My dad, an empathetic lightweight, didn't know what else to do but try to connect with me in lame father-son ways, like playing catch even though I was already 16. When that didn't help, he tried buying me a secondhand motorcycle and taught me how to ride it -- that was pretty cool, though I didn't fully appreciate it at the time, zonked out on fucking antidepressants like I was.

At the same time, our parents completely neglected Chloe for two years when she needed them, and she really, really resented them for it. My sister never got over it either, and I knew that shit was breaking Mom's heart.

"Uh, you got some...thing...here..." I murmured as I reached out to thumb the flour off her cheek.

"Oops, thank you," Mom rolled her eyes, smiling again. "I was making pie crust."

"I'll come help you in a minute," I promised. "Okay?"

"Okay, honey," Mom said as she sashayed off, disappearing back into the kitchen.

I went outside, the screen door swinging shut behind me, and walked up to Dad. He was standing over the Weber gas grill in the back on the deck, a beer in hand, the aroma of cooking meat wafting around him. Dad looked a lot like me, although, unlike Mom, my father'd really let himself go. Under his old Kiss the Cook apron, he had this big belt of fat around his middle that constituted a growing gut, flab on his chest, and the beginnings of a double chin. His hair was thinning under the bill of his Detroit Tigers cap, his face lined.

"Hey bud, long time no see!" Dad greeted me, reaching out to give me an awkward fist bump.

"Sup, Dad," I said, bumping him back.

"You get bigger every time I see you, Zach," he grinned, shaking his head.

"Thanks," I smiled. "How's work?"

"Fine, fine," he waved dismissively, his pleasant expression fading. "Same old, same old." He'd been working in the pharmacy in Kroger for years after he got tired of the daily commute to Detroit Medical Center. Mom never minded it and still made the trip to Detroit almost every day to work at Children's.

Eyes wandering, I glanced over at the newest feature of the backyard, a bin a few yards away near the fence that was half-filled with rotting organic garbage and absolutely swarming with flies. The fuck was that? I gave my father a quizzical look with a curl of my lip.

"Dad, what's --"

"I'm a composter now!" Dad laughed boisterously, lifting the bill of his cap to wipe the sweat from his brow. "Trying to go greener."

"Isn't that kind of gross, though? I mean, should there be that many bugs?" I frowned.

Dad seemed slightly offended that I wasn't totally on board or praising him for being more of an environmentalist. "Well, someone has to break it down, right? Soon it'll be the best soil you've ever seen, better than in a store."

Yeah, for what, though? It seemed Dad hadn't thought this out very well, like a lot of things in his life. I shook my head and checked out the burgers on the grill, trying to distract myself from the disgusting compost with the appetizing scent of juicy, sizzling meat. Dad's signature all-American.

"These look pretty good," I commented, trying to keep things upbeat.

"They'll taste even better," Dad assured me. "I've improved on the Cohen family recipe. Sour cream along with the ol' chuck and sirloin. Saw it on YouTube."

"Huh. Uh...nice...Can't...wait." I grimaced internally.

"So, how's your mom doing?" Dad asked, a strange, distant expression crossing his face. Shouldn't he know?

"She seems, uh, good, happy," I said, glancing towards the kitchen window where I could see her working on her part of the meal. Awkward question.

"Good. That's good."

"What's wrong?" I asked with a frown, standing there with my arms crossed.

"Oh, you know," Dad gestured with his spatula. "She's lonely. She misses you and Chloe. It's hard having an empty nest."

"Yeah," I sighed.

"Well, you're back now," Dad said, putting an arm around my shoulders. "We'll have a great summer, the three of us. Just like old times."

"I'm looking forward to it," I nodded.

"Go check on your mom," Dad urged. "She's planning a real welcome home feast for you."

I went inside, lingering at the doorway to the kitchen to check my phone. My fingers flashed as I shot Siren a quick text.

[Aaron: Hey babe. Finally back home. missing u]

My mom was facing away from me, hard at work on multiple dishes. The smell was incredible. I could see the ingredients on the counter: a bowl of fresh tomatoes, a bunch of cilantro, a package of chicken breasts, a block of white cheese, a bag of rice, and a couple of onions. Mom's famous healthy chicken tacos. Oh, and apple pie. Along with Dad's burgers, they were really going all out for me.

I was about to ask Mom if she needed a hand when her phone buzzed on the island. Mom turned and quickly picked it up, looking frazzled. A little crease appeared between her brows as she glanced at the screen and typed something before putting it down. My phone vibrated.

[SensualSiren: Can't talk now, sweetie. Busy.]

[Aaron: OK. Miss you, beautiful]

My mom's phone immediately buzzed again.

Huh. Weird...

"Hey, Mom," I said, stepping further into the kitchen. "Do you need any help?"

"Yes, please, sweetheart," Mom said, putting her phone in her pocket with a flustered expression. "Wash your hands and then could you start dicing the onions and tomatoes for the salsa?"

"Sure," I smiled, walking over to the sink and washing up. As we worked side-by-side, I couldn't help but feel a strange, creeping sensation about what'd just happened with our phones.

Mom was humming happily as she sliced the onions, her face serene and calm. I watched her out of the corner of my eye, wondering.

It had to be a coincidence...right?

My mind started going to strange, dark places. I glanced at Mom's body, at her neck and face much more carefully, looking for signs of Siren. There were a lot of similarities.

Their builds were similar, their skin the same shade, their hair comparable in color and style. Maybe I was imagining it, but from what I'd seen, their faces were close too -- their eyes, the shape of their noses and their mouths. But, it wasn't conclusive proof. I couldn't make a direct comparison with her clothes on, but the way Mom filled out her jeans and top made me wonder.

Siren's location was Ann Arbor too, like 3 miles from UMich. I tried to check out Mom without directly looking at her face, like how I'd always seen Siren. Her fingers, her lips, her throat, the curve of her breasts, the shape of her ass. The way she moved. I had this growing feeling of eeriness the more I watched my mom.

"Zach, you're staring at me," Mom said, turning to me with an amused, quizzical smile.

"Sorry, Mom," I shook my head, laughing nervously, caught. "Was just zoning out, I guess."

"Honey, the tomatoes?"

"Sorry, Mom," I apologized again, trying to shake the suspicions from my mind.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. The food was delicious and the three of us sat on the deck, talking and laughing. Afterward, I played with Chance and helped dad with the Camero's replacement carburetor before going upstairs to my room to unpack. It was almost like the last few months hadn't happened, but I could tell some things had changed. Most of all was how my parents were acting towards each other. I could tell they were trying to make everything perfect for me, but the tension was there, just below the surface. Mom and Dad seemed so distant from each other, totally focused on me.

Now that I was alone, I couldn't stop thinking about the text thing in the kitchen. Was I so fucked in the head, so perverted and low and desperate that I was imagining that my own mother was my online lover?

I wanted to dismiss it, but I couldn't let it go.

I lay back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, my mind churning, before I got out my phone again.

[Aaron: I need you]

Siren was probably busy, or she'd put her phone on silent, but, after a moment, I saw the dots that told me she was responding.

[SensualSiren: Tonight, okay honey? I'm busy with family stuff right now.]

[Aaron: When? I really miss you.. and my dick needs your attention]

[SensualSiren: We can play more tonight. I can't wait to see you. Be a good boy for me. I'll make it worth your while.]

I thought for a moment, swallowing, as I decided to try to confirm my suspicions. I felt sick down to my guts but I had to know.

[Aaron: Can you send me a pic of you real quick so I have something to think about? miss you so bad.]

The reply came a few minutes later, and I opened the image, staring. It was a selfie picture of her sitting on the toilet, her mom jeans and panties around her ankles, thighs spread wide with the soft, pale, inner flesh on display, revealing her hairy wet cunt.

White t-shirt. Mom's clothes. That same wedding band. I could even recognize the half bath in our basement now that I was looking for it. How had I not seen any of it before? How could I?

My head began to spin as the cold shock of confirmation gripped me.

"Oh fuck...oh fuck..." I whispered as I stared at the photo, eyes widening. Siren was Mom. Siren was my own mother.

I felt a rush of conflicting emotions. Shock, surprise, embarrassment, and horror. But there was also excitement, helpless arousal. My cock was hardening.

Oh god.

It was so wrong. So, so wrong. E102 came whispering back into my head, an insistent, accusatory recitation.

'Dark, horror of darkness, -my- darkness, drowning, swirling around me crashing wave on wave -- unspeakable, irresistible headwind, fatal harbor!'

"I can't believe this...I can't fucking believe this," I breathed, my head spinning, the sane, grounded world I thought I knew quickly slipping away from me.

It was so fucked up, so gross and strange and terrible, but as my mind reeled my body was responding differently. For weeks and weeks, I had known this woman and her body as my lover. Now that I was seeing her for who and what she really was, it was like my brain was playing catch-up with my dick.

I kept staring at the photo, the evidence, and my cock kept getting harder and harder. I couldn't stop thinking about Siren and all the things we had done together. What she had said. What we wanted to do once we finally met. I had told her so many of my darkest, deepest secrets. My innermost fantasies. I felt so sick inside.

I should have just deleted Tinder at that point. Forgave myself as a horny, lost little fuckhead who didn't know any better and got caught up in my mother's twisted, tangled web of a sexual midlife crisis. Gone on with my life.

But I couldn't. Mom was Siren. Siren was everything I'd ever wanted in a woman. I was obsessed with her and her body. I felt deep, wrenching nausea, but at the same time, such a dark, perverse thrill.

At that moment, I made the terrible choice not to give up on our adulterous tryst -- now an incestuous one too. So I fell back into the inexorable, familiar pattern of our sexual dance and allowed my overwhelming lusts to start rewiring my rational brain. I sent a picture of the outline of my covered dick, rock-hard and straining against my plaid boxers, a damp spot of precum already forming.

[SensualSiren: Good boy. Don't touch yourself until tonight, okay? I want to be the one who makes you cum.]

[Aaron: OK see you tonight]

[SensualSiren: Bye honey.]

While Dad headed out to go bowl and hang with his drinking buddies, Mom and I binge-watched episodes of her favorite trash TLC reality show, 90 Day Fiancé. She wasn't happy about Dad ditching us my first day back, complaining that his nights out had become more and more frequent, and he kept coming back later and later. I didn't know what to say -- my mind was somewhere else entirely. We sat on the couch together and she put my feet into her lap to give them a rub. It was a long-standing ritual of ours that was easy to fall back into, as much as I wanted to try to avoid her and sort my insane shit out.

I was in a daze and had to consciously separate her and Siren to function. It was so, so hard as I looked at her body sitting there, knowing the delicious mature flesh beneath her clothes; the large, ripe pair of breasts and hairy pussy waiting for me. I buried myself in my phone to try and disconnect, to let the chaste, somatic memory of her massage keep my mind from wandering, even as I desperately wanted those same fingers around my stirring cock.

"So, honey, tell me all about college," Mom prodded, completely oblivious as she kneaded the arch of my foot. "How are your classes, your friends, and everything? I feel like we don't talk like we used to, you know?"

"Fine, Mom," I shrugged, distracted and still shaken as I scrolled through my social media feeds on my phone while the lame, manufactured drama blared on TV. I knew it came off as distant, but in that moment, the status quo was the only thing I could hold onto.

"I was worried, you know," she kept trying. "Your first year away. It's a big step after what you've been through," Mom said sympathetically.

"It was tough," I admitted, still unable to look at her. "Lots of work. But I got a 3.7 this year, so it's all good."

"You're a smart boy, Zach," Mom said, smiling, her voice warm with approval. "You've always been a smart boy. What about your girlfriend? Are you two still going out?"

God, she sounded so much like Siren, fuck.

I couldn't wait anymore. I went back into Tinder, flicking on silent mode to kill the vibration and notification sound. I mumbled something about us breaking up, and Mom tried to hide her delight.

"...Aww, honey...well, I think it's a good thing though..."

[Aaron: Now? My big teen dick's waiting for you]

Mom's phone immediately buzzed on her arm of the sofa.

"Oh, excuse me, sweetheart," Mom said, grabbing her phone and checking the message. She read it and smiled, her cheeks flushing a slight pink.

I stared, feeling the heat rush to my face, my heart racing.

"Who's that, Mom?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.

"Just...a friend," Mom said, looking away, a small, private smile on her face.

"Alright," I said, returning my attention to the TV and my phone. I marveled at how easily she could lie about this, how brazenly she could cheat on Dad. I wasn't much better, knowing what I knew, yet keeping it alive.

Mom was on her phone, tapping away.

[SensualSiren: Hey stud. Are you ready to be my dirty boy?]

[Aaron: Yes. Ready to fuck you. So hard. Missed you so much] I wrote back, glancing furtively over at her. I saw the hungry delight glint in her eyes as she read my message. I shifted some uncomfortably as I felt hot blood fully rushing into my cock.

"Okay, I'm off to bed," Mom announced, sliding my feet off her lap and standing up.

"Alright, Mom," I nodded, giving her a cursory smile but not looking up, moving to rest on my side so I could hide my growing hardon.

"Goodnight, honey."

"Night."

She disappeared up the stairs. After a few minutes, I followed. I stopped in my room, peeling off my button-up shirt so I was just in my shorts. I paced, stalking like a caged animal, pent-up sexual frustration driving me mad. I should have just tried to sleep, but I didn't. Couldn't. Instead, I went out again and stopped outside my parents' bedroom door.

I didn't know what the fuck I was doing, just following my depraved sexual instinct, my dick leading me on. I could still back out of this. There was still time. But I lingered there anyway.

[Aaron: You naked?] I texted, leaning with my back against the wall next to the door.

[SensualSiren: Yes. Wish you were here. I'm touching myself]

I bit my bottom lip, feeling a pang of surging arousal.

[Aaron: On your bed?]

[SensualSiren: Yes, thinking about you. Wishing you were fucking me.]

I was completely hard again, and not just for the distant attention of an online woman. I knew my mother was in there, fucking herself while thinking about me, not knowing I was her own son. I was getting tired of the conflicting feelings. I reacted to her messages with lust, and just buried the dread and guilt deeper down.

I quietly moved closer and put my ear up to the door. Nothing at first, but then, a faint, muffled feminine moan. I swallowed, hard, and reached for the doorknob. It was unlocked. I turned it silently and slowly, carefully pushed the door ajar to peer inside.

Mom was lying back on the bed naked, her legs spread, her eyes closed. She had this cheap little tripod thing that held her phone on the nightstand, pointed at her.

"Yes, Aaron, fuck, yes," Mom whimpered quietly, her hand moving between her legs, her furry, mature pussy glistening, fingers slipping inside. Her sexy, tight body was Siren's, only now the face was clear at last. Call it genetic sexual attraction or whatever -- something finally just clicked inside me and I started seeing my mother as the object of all my desires and sexual fantasies. I stood in the crack of the door watching her pleasure herself in silence, the sight sending a sickening, wicked delight through me.

"Mmmm," Mom moaned softly, her free hand squeezing her large breast, thumb and forefinger pinching her hardened nipple, tugging it. "Yes, oh, yes, Aaron, fuck, baby, yes, fuck me..."

I was so unbelievably hard, dying for relief. I couldn't resist anymore. I slid a hand down, cupping the bulge in my sweatpants, squeezing myself.

Mom's eyes were closed, her lips parted, her hips squirming as she fucked herself with her fingers, her other hand squeezing her breast and tugging her nipple, her dark pussy hair messy and wild. As the voyeur, my mind was in the strangest, most erotic place as I watched. She was at peak fertility, so desperate for a mate. It was like she was in estrus or something, her entire body crying out to be fucked and bred. To fulfill her role as a mother many times over, before it was too late and her ripe, fully blossomed flower began to fade.

Mom's body writhed as she came, her pussy gushing and squirting, fingers buried deep. She gasped, her eyes closed, voice hoarse as she took in ragged breaths, gently shuddering on the bed as her climax subsided.

I quietly closed the door and retreated back to my room.

I'd been so close, so close to the forbidden fruit. Now was the time. I knew it, and my heart began to pound even harder than it had watching my mom fuck herself. My world was completely untethered, spinning, an unreal, terrifying place. The sight of her body, so achingly, tantalizingly close, her wantonness...I wanted mother all the more.

I sat down on my bed with my phone, ready to end our old dance and begin a new one.

[Aaron: I need to show you something.]

[SensualSiren: Can't wait.]

Maybe I was fucking insane, but watching Mom in the flesh had blanked out every rational neuron in my brain. All I could think was getting into her pussy. I got on my bed and pulled down my shorts to grip my big, straining cock in my fist. I angled the camera so that Mom could finally see my face. I stared, eyes lidded into the pinhole as I slowly pumped my cock for her, lost in my lust for her.

[Aaron: Here I am, baby. This is me.]

After I sent it, there was only silence. I felt my entire being falling through space, lost. I might have just destroyed my life, but I couldn't live like this anymore. My depraved desires blunted the despair, the awful reality of the many possible consequences of what I'd just done, all in the hope that might be able to fuck my own mother.

'Oh again, the misery, all at once, over and over the stabbing dagger, stab of memory raking me insane.'

A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on my door. I could hear my mom outside, breath racing out in quiet, wracking sobs. The sound made me sick to my stomach.

"Zach..." Mom managed as she tried to compose herself, her voice quiet, shaky, muffled through the wood. "Please let me in. W-we need to talk."

I opened the door wordlessly, avoiding her gaze.

"It's...it's you??" Mom whispered, her voice barely a breath. She stared at me, so conflicted, so torn, lingering at the threshold. My mother had thrown back on her clothes, but she still looked like a mess, avoidant gaze teary and bloodshot, face flushed from the awful realization, embarrassment, and sexual completion. Her tortured expression was caught between shock, disbelief, and something else -- something in her eyes that simmered dark and lustful and quickly hidden when she looked at my half-naked body, my semi-hard bulge. Something I hadn't seen before.

Finally, Mom slowly entered the room and closed the door behind her.

I sat down on the bed, my hands vaguely shaking, overcome by surreal lust and a strange, out-of-body shame. I wet my lips and swallowed, my mind numb.

"Jesus, at least say something, Zach!" Mom choked out between her teeth.

I just handed her my phone with the Tinder app open on our message screen.

As Mom looked through our exchanges, horrifying confirmation constricted her pupils and twisted up her face. "Oh god, no, no, no, no, no..." she whispered, putting her hand over her mouth, a fresh round of tears beginning to stream. My mother let out this long, moaning sound that shook me real bad. "Noooo...oooooooooooooooo...!"

"Mom..." I tried, my voice hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

"My own son, and we...no no no this isn't happening..." Mom cried out before staring at me with unhinged eyes. "I'm...I'm sorry," Mom tried, her face twisting in anguish. "I'm sorry, honey, I'm so, so sorry. This...this is my fault..."

"Please," I begged, staring down at the floor. "I need to understand."

"I don't know," Mom whimpered, sinking to her knees before me. "I don't know, Zach. It's wrong. It's so, so wrong, and I'm...I'm a bad mother. I'm a bad wife. But I've been so lonely. Barry hasn't touched me in years and he's always out, and I was feeling so desperate for something, I just wanted to feel like a real woman again, for someone to want me..." she pleaded, babbling as she tried to explain. "But I shouldn't have done this...!"

"I want you," I said quietly, finally looking at her.

"No. NO. NO, Zach," she gasped, recoiling from me. "We didn't know. We didn't. Know. We were stupid, me most of all," she tried to convince herself. "This is the end of it."

"What are you saying?" I asked, devastated, watching her with pained eyes as she rose up, her chest shuddering as she gripped her head.

"It's over, Zach," Mom said with a tone of agonized, emotional finality. "No more. I'm deleting everything. It was a mistake. We forget this ever happened. It never happened."

"I can't," I said firmly, standing, feeling like I was watching myself in an out-of-body experience rather than being in control of my actions. "I still want you."

"Don't say that, Zach, please, god, no," Mom begged, backing away from me, her face screwed up in horror. She started as she bumped her back up against the wall. "Oh!"

"Look at my body, Mom, I'm still Aaron," I said, holding my arms out as an offering, hardly believing what was coming out of my mouth but allowing it. Growing bolder as I did. "We're the same person. Tell me you don't want what I can give you."

"You're my son, Zach," Mom cried, her voice strained, her eyes welling with tears. "You can't talk like this to me..."

"Tell me," I demanded, approaching her, pressing her up against the wall, her full breasts mashing into my chest, her breathing ragged as she squirmed, her head shaking from side to side as she closed her eyes tight.

"Please," Mom whimpered. "I can't. Please don't make me."

"Tell me," I growled, reaching behind her and grabbing her ass with both hands, squeezing her firm flesh possessively to pull her body tight against mine. It felt so wrong. So utterly depraved. But I'd given control to my dick completely and it felt good too. I let my mother feel my big rigid cock crush up against her pussy and pelvis. Mom's lip was bit so hard I thought it might bleed. I felt the heat of her cunt. I couldn't tell if she was struggling or grinding back, but her nipples hardened through her shirt, digging into my chest. Mom's mouth worked like she wanted to say something, but then the spell was broken and she pushed me away.

"NO!" Mom wailed. "No, Zach, what's wrong with you?? We can't we CAN'T!"

She fled from me, slamming the door behind her with a shriek.

"Fuck!" I cursed with a snarl, punching the wall.

I lay awake that night, not knowing what was going to happen. When I checked Tinder again, SensualSiren was gone, so were all our messages. Mom had deleted her account. Was she going to call the cops? Tell Dad? Run away? I had no idea. I started looking through all the illicit, incestuous videos Mom had sent me and jacked off angrily, my mind cursed with the memory of her on the bed, the scent of her desire, the curves of her body. The way her breasts rose and pointed to the ceiling as her back arched in orgasm.

There was no Siren anymore. Just Mom. And I still wanted her more than anything.

The next morning, Dad left early to pick up his shift at Kroger. Mom, who'd ironically taken time off from the hospital to spend more with me, was left behind. Trapped in the same house without a convenient excuse to escape my incestuous attentions. She was clearly uncomfortable, not making eye contact, flustered and tense. We sat in awkward, charged silence at the breakfast table, her in another old shirt and barefoot pajama bottoms, me in sweats and a tank top.

"Zach," Mom started, her voice small and timid.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, my tone neutral, eyes on my bowl of cereal.

"I don't know," Mom replied, her voice quivering. "I'm your mother, Zach."

"We can't deny what's happening between us, Mom," I said firmly.

"There's nothing," Mom managed, voice strained, pathetic. I knew she was lying.

"Bullshit," I said through tight lips, raising my eyes to stare at her angrily. "Don't lie."

"Zach, please, just stop," Mom said hoarsely, her voice breaking.

I got up bitterly and dumped my bowl in the sink, then went to grab Chance for a morning run.

"I'm going for a jog," I called mechanically, as if things could ever be normal again. Mom was just sitting at the table, her face in her hands. She looked up, near tears again, tortured eyes upon mine.

"O-oh-okay. I'll just do some yoga..."

***

Chance and I had a good run that day, probably the only normal thing in my life anymore. Eberwhite was the same as always, though it felt even smaller and quainter than ever before. I kept thinking about my body against Mom's last night, how she felt like she was giving in. Her heat. The press of her slender frame. Her smell. Her breasts and their fat, stiffened nips. It was less of a courtship now and more a chase of predator and prey. I couldn't give up the hunt and let her slip away.

That was how we settled into our new, incestuous reality; a twisted, lust-filled dance between us. The week passed with me circling her, never truly relenting. Stealing glances or even brushes when I could in the hall or the kitchen; a graze of her hip, her breast, her ass. A hand sliding up her thigh. I was persistent, insistent, and grew bolder when Mom just wormed away or gave me a hot, needy glare under all that shame and disgust and pain. I knew what I was doing was so wrong, but it was like wires had been cut and rerouted in my brain. Mom was Siren. She was my fucking girlfriend, my lover. The one who'd carry my children. She just didn't want to face it yet. She was resisting, but I knew that part of her that wanted nothing more than to fuck, blood-related or not. I saw it in her eyes every single day.

One morning during my routine a week or so later, I came back from my run with Chance covered in a good sweat. Mom's yoga mat was still out in the living room, along with the blocks, ball, and other stuff that came with the routine. I could hear the shower running upstairs. Given over to the pull of my desires, I followed the sound into my parents' bedroom and stripped naked, stepping into the adjoining bathroom. The pound in my chest beat in time with the pulse engorging my cock. I don't know what I set out to accomplish, but I needed my woman; needed to feel her again whether or not she was my mother. Somehow I was committed to seeing this to the end, whatever that was. To slaking the incestuous thirst that had just built and built to screaming over the last weeks, spilling over after my first night.

The shower fogged the glass, obscuring my vision, but I could see her shape, a blurry, feminine outline. Mom's body. Her beautiful, voluptuous form, water sluicing enticingly down her curves. She was facing away from me, rinsing lilac-scented shampoo out of her hair. All I saw was Siren. And Siren was my mother.

I slid open the door and stepped inside the large stall with her. She didn't hear me at first, so I pressed my hard body up against her slippery back, my big, naked hard cock grinding into the cleft of her ass. I reached up to grab her breasts in my hands with a deep growl.

"Ohh!" Mom gasped, her voice echoing off the tiles. She struggled, trying to break free, but I had a firm grip on her large tits, squeezing her big, long nipples between my fingers.

"ZACH! NO!!" Mom screamed, her voice racing, high and panicked.

"Just let it happen..." I heard myself say as I luxuriated in her even as she resisted. "I know you want this."

"Stop, Zach, please," Mom begged.

"Why are you fighting it, Mom? Why can't we have each other?" I hissed into her ear.

"Because it's WRONG," she cried.

"So? You still love it, don't you, Mom?" I countered. "You're turned on. Your body's begging for me."

"It's wrong," my mother whimpered again, her voice shaking.

"Does this feel wrong, Mom?" I asked, one hand sliding down to cup her hairy pussy with firm, lascivious intent.

"Mmmmph!" Mom moaned as I pressed my palm against her swollen mons, fingers stroking over her cunt lips.

"Does it?" I repeated, running my probing digits along her slit. I could barely believe I was doing this, my dick throbbing, steel-hard between her cheeks. I felt electrified, like I was a creature of pure lust.

"Yes," Mom lied breathlessly. "Zach please..."

I kissed the crook of my mother's neck and she shivered, her ass grinding back against my thick pole. I slipped a finger inside her folds to elicit another gasp, her walls clenching around me. Mom squirmed again at first, trying to get away, but weakly this time, body betraying her.

"Oh, fuck, Zach," my mother whimpered, her resolve crumbling.

"I need you so bad," I grunted, pumping myself against her in a slow, deep grind, pushing in another finger to join the first as I gripped and kneaded her perfect breast. "Let me inside you."

"We can't," Mom pleaded, her voice barely more than a whisper, trembling. "We can't..."

"You wanted it when you thought I was Aaron," I said lowly, fingering her faster, curling my digits over the deep places Dad hadn't touched in years, if ever, making her moan and writhe against me. "Just like me, just as young as me..."

"Zach, noohhhhhhhh," Mom shuddered, her hot juices running down my wrist along with the constant splash of the shower. "I'm your motherrrrr..."

"Yes," I groaned, slipping a third finger into her.

"Fuuuckkk," Mom whined, her ass smacking back against me, her hips rolling.

"That's right, take it, Mom," I encouraged with a hiss in her ear before kissing down her neck, her shoulder.

She came, hard. Mom squealed as her body convulsed, legs shaking, her hairy cunt gushing, clenching down and rippling around my fingers. My mother let out a whining, moaning cry as she crashed down from her high and leaned heavily against me, still trembling. When she came back to herself, panting softly, her hand touched my wrist to pull my fingers out from her pussy.

Mom turned to face me with the spray of the shower and steam rising around her, hair wet, naked breasts heaving as she panted, looking so different and beautiful. So vulnerable. Mom's dark eyes stared into mine, her lips parted. She took in my broad shoulders, my thick, muscular arms, my big, powerful chest, the ridges of my abs, and the stiff pillar of flesh that was my hard, throbbing cock. She looked so ashamed, but that sultry arousal I'd seen in Siren, unmistakable, glinted in her dark green eyes.

"Zach..." she breathed hoarsely, even now trying to cover herself. "Why...did you do that?"

"We can't stop," I said, stepping forward, pushing her against the tiles, the water cascading down our bodies.

"We have to," Mom repeated weakly, her voice almost a moan. She looked frantic as I advanced, my big, bobbing cock insistent, so potent as it flared angrily from between my legs and pointed directly at her womb. "Please, Zach, no!"

Mom bit her lip hard again as she looked down at my raging erection, the focus of all her sexual desire for so many weeks. She stared at me desperately, probably realizing I wasn't going to stop until my awful, unnatural lusts were sated.

"W-we can't have sex," she pleaded. "But...but...if I..." Mom let out a long, shuddering, despairing sigh. "If I get you off, can you stop this?"

"I don't know," I said simply, closing the distance, the head of my prick bumping against her navel, the length of my shaft sliding along her lower belly and mound. "Unnnm...You can try..."

"Ohhh," Mom groaned, her face twisting in a painful mix of desire and shame. She looked so conflicted as she let me smear across her for a moment, then shook her head again with that look of lusty revulsion. Mom's fingers moved to snake around my big, proud young shaft -- maybe just to move it away at first, but her touch lingered, tightened instead.

"Yessss," I hissed, feeling her delicate hand gripping my cock, her thumb and forefinger struggling to meet. Mom wasn't wearing her wedding ring at least, but I wouldn't have cared if she was.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Mom whimpered as she began stroking me, her touch sending shockwaves up my spine. I throbbed as she stroked me, leaking a long string of pre. "Oh god it's so big, Zach," she whispered, her face screwed up in guilt and need. "We shouldn't be doing this, we shouldn't..."

I was like another person as I watched her and the water slide down her curves as she pumped my dick, forced to use both hands because of how large it was.

"Oh, Zach...please let's just stop --" Mom gasped, her gaze fixed on my cock as she continued jerking me.

"Shhh. Just keep doing that," I urged firmly, staring into her eyes. I groaned as her hands moved up and down the full length of my shaft, her experienced fingers squeezing and twisting around the thick head, then sliding down the sensitive underside before her palm cupped my balls. The taboo of what we were doing, the sheer sinfulness of it was somehow such a turn-on for me. I'd wanted her so badly, had ached and suffered, and now I was getting what I'd yearned for.

"Zach, fuck," Mom moaned, her hands moving faster, the shower dulling her gasps and the slick sound of my precum lubricating my massive teenage erection. She couldn't tear her gaze away from it, her hands working, stroking, jerking, adoring, reviling, heavy breasts moving with the motions, nipples so hard. "Please just cum, Zach."

"Mff...Keep going," I grunted, thrusting into her grip with languid motions of my hips.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she repeated, her words hollow, her face twisting with guilty pleasure as her long, slender fingers masturbated her own son.

"Do you want to taste it?" I growled.

"No, I can't," Mom groaned, her voice catching, her hands never stopping. She turned her head away, pursing her lips tight as if afraid I'd force her, but never took her eyes off of it.

"You will soon. I want to see your lips around my dick," I breathed, leaning forward, my mouth almost brushing her ear.

"Ohhh godddh," Mom moaned, her strokes quickening, her fingers tightening, the pressure building.

"I'm gonna cum," I strained, my breath coming faster, the tension in my balls reaching a breaking point.

"Just cum, Zach," Mom urged, her face still wracked with conflicting emotions as her hands twisted, caressed, and jerked my throbbing, swollen meat in her hands. "Please cum."

I groaned loudly, the muscles in my legs and groin contracting. I exploded, the first incestuous rope shooting up and hitting Mom on her heaving breasts, then her belly. She gasped in revulsion and lust, her hands milking and stroking and coaxing out every rope of semen that they could as they pumped up and down my bucking, spasming shaft. It was the biggest load I'd ever blown, thick white globs coating her large, upturned tits, dripping down her stomach.

"Oh, God, oh fuck, what did I just do?" Mom half-sobbed, though tears didn't come this time.

I was breathing hard, my legs and pelvis weak from the intensity of the orgasm. I slipped from her grasp leaning back against the glass wall of the stall, letting the water run down my body.

Mom was still distraught, her expression stricken, body marked by my fertile, incestuous seed. I could see the shame and disgust and self-loathing on her face. The way she looked at me was heartbreaking, but I tell she was also very turned on. I was hit by a pang of regret and guilt, but it'd felt so fucking good...

As I stepped away from the blast of the hot shower, she numbly took my place, washing her son's cum from her body. I watched Mom like a predator, admiring her fertile curves, her full, round ass and big, swinging tits. When she was clean, Mom turned off the shower and pushed open the door, stepping out of the stall, her hair matted and dripping.

"I'll...I'll go make lunch," Mom mumbled, not looking at me, her tone dull and flat, her face pale, eyes glazed. She quickly wrapped a towel around herself and left.

"Fuck," I groaned, running my hands through my hair, leaning my head against the tile, the water still cascading around me.

What was wrong with me? I'd pushed my fingers inside my own mother and forced her to give me a handjob. I'd come on her tits, the same ones I'd sucked on as a baby. What kind of sick fuck was I? And yet, despite all that, the sin, the shame, the utter wrongness, the memory of Mom's body, the feel of her fleshy, furry cunt; her hands stroking my cock -- it was enough to make me hard again.

***

Neither of us talked about it for the rest of the day. Mom, still trying to avoid me and cling to any shreds of sanity in our new, completely fucked-up normal. Me, biding my time and watching her hungrily. Mom found some pretense to escape the house and go on some errands while I hit up the local gym. I tried not to think about what I'd done and what more I wanted to do, but it was all-consuming.

Over the next few days I was more brazen with Mom, taking every opportunity to touch her, to push her, to grind my growing erection against her, or to grope her breasts or ass, whispering in her ear how much I needed her. Mom's eyes would widen in alarm and she'd gasp, her mouth hanging open, her breathing quickening, her cheeks flushing, her body quivering, but she'd never protest, and she'd never say no. Mom would just shake her head and wriggle away. And through it all, she didn't run from our house. Didn't call the police. Didn't tell Dad.

Once or twice I was able to corner her, to force her to satisfy me with her hands again. Mom tried to make it a highly mechanical thing, a necessity to get me to leave her alone, but I could it enflamed her desires so much, to feel her aching touch, to see how much she worshipped her son's large, fine young cock under the veneer of coercion and disgust. We hid what we were doing from my father, who seemed more interested in being in the garage with his Camero or out with his friends than with us anyway.

Near the end of the week, I needed more. Her hands weren't enough. Not even close. That night, Dad was predictably out again and Mom was curled up on the couch with a glass of wine, looking haunted and small as she tried to watch more reality TV. The accompanying bottle was unusual, as she normally didn't drink much. Mom was wearing clothes that maybe she thought might make her look less attractive to me -- an old pair of sweats and a baggy UofM Wolverine t-shirt. It didn't work. My mother was quiet as I entered the room, though her eyes flicked briefly towards me before returning to the screen. I'd caught her glancing at me like that a lot since we'd started this, her green eyes burning with lust and shame in equal measure.

I sat beside Mom but not too close, and watched the show with her in silence, a mindless episode of House Hunters. Neither of us spoke or acknowledged each other, though I could see her glancing at me, stealing surreptitious looks at my chest and the bulge in my shorts. It was obvious from her flushed skin and the way she was breathing that Mom was aroused.

When the show ended, I put my hand on her thigh, feeling the heat radiating off her.

"Don't, Zach," she breathed, her voice trembling, her eyes staring straight ahead.

"Let's go upstairs," I urged in a soft, demanding purr, my fingers caressing the inside of her thigh. I no longer felt bad about being predatory; it felt good now, knowing I was wearing her down.

"No," Mom said, shaking her head. "Please. Your father will be home soon."

"No he won't," I sneered, my eyes hungrily devouring her as my full attention shifted to her body. "But even if he wasn't, he doesn't care. He can't give you what you need anymore."

"Stop," Mom pleaded weakly, her thighs parting a little as her resolve weakened.

"He doesn't understand you," I continued, my hand moving closer to the junction between her legs. "How you want to be treated. How you need to be treated."

Mom moaned softly, her legs shifting a little, spreading a little wider.

"Dad's useless," I whispered, leaning in. "But I'm here now."

"Please, Zach," Mom begged, her eyes closing -- the lines so blurred now between rejection and invitation.

I moved in, gripping her covered pussy possessively. "Let me fuck you."

"Oh!" Mom cried, her head tilting back, her mouth falling open. "Please, we can't, we can't, you know we can't..."

"If I were Aaron," I whispered, kissing her neck, grinding the heel of my palm against her hot sex, "you'd already be pregnant."

"Ahhhhhh..." Mom hissed, her hips rising, her ass squirming.

"And I'll give it to you," I whispered, kissing her neck. "All the cock you've been missing." Mom whimpered, her hips rolling, shoulders trembling. "I'll fuck you," I promised, licking her throat possessively, like the feral animal I'd become.

"MmmmMm...!" Mom whined, her body quivering, her hands balling into fists, her cunt pressing down against my hand in need.

"I'll get you pregnant."

"Nooo," she cried meekly as my words pulled her back from the brink, her hand reaching down and gripping mine, her thighs clamping down, head turning away.

"I'm going to knock you up," I breathed, squeezing her pussy, grinding against her. "You'll get so fucking pregnant, Mom. Carrying my brother or sister. Our child."

"Oh Jesus, Zach, stop," Mom whined, her hand grabbing mine, pulling it away from her sex. She got up and stood on shaky legs, looking down at me. "Please??"

I stood up slowly, pulling down my shorts to let my huge erection bounce free, my head already dripping with incestuous pre. "Then do something about this and I'll stop."

"Godd..." Mom groaned, her hand flying to her mouth. She stared at my cock, her eyes wide, her face flushed, her breath coming fast. She couldn't tear her eyes away from it, gaze filled with desire.

"If you aren't going to let me fuck you, then suck it, Mom," I demanded.

"Not that," she protested weakly, backing up a step, her hand dropping away, her eyes still riveted to my pulsing dick. "We shouldn't, not that...I-I'll use my hands again..."

I advanced slowly, my big cock gripped by the base, staring her down with lust and overpowering need. I knew what I was doing was so wrong, but I didn't care anymore. Mom's receptiveness over the last few days made me feel like this was just part of her giving in.

"You'd suck Aaron's cock in a second, you slut," I said bitterly. "It's the same thing."

Mom gasped, her expression suddenly indignant, her hand flying up to slap me, but I caught her wrist easily.

"No, I wouldn't, I wouldn't," Mom repeated the lie in a cracked voice, her eyes wide, face reddening. My hand tightened around her wrist.

"Suck my cock, Mom," I demanded, pulling her close, her wrist twisting in my grasp.

"Oh god, oh god, no," she sobbed, her voice tiny and straining, her hand trying to wrench free.

"You're such a hypocrite," I snarled as I pulled Mom down by her arm, but I didn't force her. She struggled for a moment, then slowly dropped to her knees in front of the couch, her eyes glazed and distant as she finally accepted that there was no way out.

"Suck it," I ordered, releasing her and taking a half-step back, my massive, thick, throbbing cock bobbing inches from her lips.

Mom moaned in a low, plaintive cry, a wordless exhalation of crumbling resistance. Her hands moved slowly towards me, gaze fixed on the enormous, glistening, veiny shaft of her son's cock. Her face was a mask of conflict, eyes wide, her jaw set, her teeth clenched.

"Just kiss it," I said, stroking her cheek with the back of my fingers, a faint caress like I might have given her when I was just her boy and nothing more.

Mom's lips trembled and she took a deep breath. She looked up at me, her expression pained, her eyes so hot with need. I held her gaze and nodded, and she lowered her head, her lips pursing.

My mother hesitated, her breath warm against the swollen head of my cock, and I could see her body tensing, her shoulders rising.

"Please, Mom," I whispered, stroking her hair.

Mom closed her eyes and her lips brushed against the tip of my big mushroom head. A jolt of perverse electricity surged through my body. Timidly, she kissed it once, then again. She kept her eyes closed, her lips pressed to the head of her own son's dick, her face red.

"You're so fucking hot," I grunted, my fingers tightening in her hair.

"Mmm," my mother whimpered, her tongue slipping out, licking the very tip, tasting my precum.

"That's it," I encouraged. "Lick it, Mom."

"Unn," she breathed meekly, her mouth opening, her tongue running against the underside of my swollen, sensitive crown and shaft with a long lapping lick.

"Oh fuck," I grunted, the feeling sending a wave of pleasure through me.

Mom's her lips parted, her eyes opening as she finally gave in to the depraved, incestuous act. She kissed my dick again, and then began to lap at it, her tongue exploring every inch, the tip swirling, her soft, wet, warm, slippery lips kissing and sucking.

She looked so fucking hot sucking my dick, her eyes glazed with lust, full lips wrapped around the head, her hands clutching the base. I could feel my balls churning, the pressure building up in my shaft as I got closer to release.

"Suck me, Mom," I groaned. "Suck your own son's dick..."

"MMmmMmnnh..." she moaned wantonly around my cock, her head beginning to bob, her mouth and lips and tongue worshiping her son's big, beautiful, throbbing cock. She sucked and slurped, her hands stroking and pumping as she picked up the pace. I'd never felt anything better in my young life.

"Oh, shit," I growled. "Mom, I'm gonna cum..."

Her head bobbed faster, her lips and hands pumping, her tongue slathering, her eyes staring up at me, filled with hot shame, but wanting, needing.

"Fuuuuck," I groaned, my balls churning, the pressure building. "Here it comes...!"

"MMMmmmnNHHH!" Mom's voice rose in surrender and what sounded like almost dutiful pleasure as she tensed to receive her son's cum.

"Fuck, fuck, FuhHKkk" I cried, the pressure suddenly peaking like a dam breaking, and I exploded, spurting hot ropes of seed into my mother's mouth. Mom's eyes shut tight and her sucking slowed, cheeks hollowing as she swallowed her son's cum, trembling fingers stilling on my shaft.

I shuddered, the last spasms of my orgasm coursing through me, and slowly I pulled my softening cock from her mouth. She released it and sat back, her expression dull, blank. Resigned.

"Did you enjoy that, Mom?" I asked.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice empty, not even trying to lie now. Her eyes met mine, cheeks flushed, her body trembling. I knew she'd do it again. Wanted it, even. She just stared off into space, fingertips absentmindedly wiping a string of cum from the corner of her mouth to suck it clean.

A satisfied grin split my face. Finally. Fuckin' finally. Siren was finally taking over my Mom.

"You gonna let me fuck you now?"

"Oh," my mother breathed, her eyes widening, breath quickening. "Oh god, Zach, no, anything but that. We can't go that far. We can't," she repeated, shaking her head.

"So you just sucked your son's dick and swallowed his fucking cum but sex is too far?" I sneered, pulling up my shorts. Her face reddened even further.

"It's different," Mom argued defensively, her eyes dropping. "We can't...have sex. I can't. We'll regret it. You'll regret it."

"Bullshit," I said, standing. "I know you want it, Mom. You've wanted it ever since I told you I was Aaron."

"Please, Zach," she pleaded. "We've already done too much."

"Fine," I relented, holding my hands up. "But I want you in my room tonight to give me more head, okay?"

"Oh," Mom groaned, her mouth parting, brow furrowing as things spiraled so desperately out of her control.

"Well?" I pressed, looming over her.

"O-okay," Mom whimpered, her eyes flicking up to mine, her body tensing, her chest rising and falling, her nipples hard and poking through her shirt. I kissed her on the head like I used to, but the filial gesture, like everything else was perverted with a lingering, follow-up grope of her covered breast. She shuddered softly.

"Thanks, Mom."

I left her there, on her knees with a belly full of my seed, her mouth hanging open as she was overwhelmed with shock, self-loathing, and a lust no mother should have for their son.

That night, I waited for Mom for hours, but she never came. Dad came back earlier than usual and she hid in their room from me. I was frustrated; pissed. Again I felt like the ultimate prize had been taken from me. I jacked off angrily to the old videos again, feeling a kind of sick, lust-fuelled rage creep up into me. I barely slept, paranoia creeping in. Was she telling Dad what happened? Was Mom going to deny me now? I relieved myself another two times that night before I finally drifted off, bitter and driven to take what was mine.

I woke the next morning, bleary and tired, and shuffled downstairs. Mom was at the stove cooking breakfast and Dad was at the table drinking coffee, both fully dressed -- my mom in her dark blue nurse's scrubs and my dad in his Holy Rollers bowling team jacket.

"Hey, Son," Dad greeted, nodding, his voice cheerful.

"Hey," I said, glancing at him, then at Mom.

"Morning," Mom said, her tone clipped, back turned.

"Morning," I echoed.

I went over to the coffee pot, poured myself a mug, and leaned against the counter, sipping, watching Mom's ass sway and her thighs rub together as she cooked. She glanced back at me, and our eyes met.

"Your father's staying home today," she announced, her eyes sliding away.

"Oh yeah?" I said, looking at him and trying to hide my disappointment and frustrated resentment.

"Yeah," Dad said, smiling. "Figured I'd spend the day with you, Zach. What's the plan?"

Nothing much. Just fucking mom.

"I dunno," I replied, saying the first thing that popped into my mind. "Maybe we could go to, like Putterz?"

"Minigolf? Yeah, sounds good," Dad said. "It's a date."

Mom plated the food, bringing the plates to the table. Scrambled eggs on toast with some freshly sliced avocado. She set mine down and sat beside me.

As we ate, I surreptitiously put my hand between Mom's thighs under the table. She jumped a little, glaring at me, her eyes widening, legs clamping shut tight at first. I narrowed my eyes at Mom and kept pushing insistently until they reluctantly parted. I slipped my invading fingers inside Mom's waistband and panties to feel her sex; her hairy cunt was hot and dripping for me.

"What about the movies?" I suggested, rubbing her pussy, her juices smearing on my fingers.

"The movies?" Dad asked from across the table, obliviously shoveling food into his mouth as he scrolled through his phone.

"Sure," I replied, pushing my finger inside, curling it, rubbing against her g-spot. Another joined it. "First Minigolf, then a movie?"

Mom let out a stifled gasp, her hand gripping her fork tightly, her knuckles white, her thighs spreading wider. Her cheeks reddened, head down to try and look like she was eating.

"How about Guardians of the Galaxy 3?" I asked casually as I fingered Mom under the table, her wetness coating my fingers and soaking into her panties.

"Yeah, sure," Dad agreed. "I've been wanting to see that. Linda, you coming?"

"Y-yesss," Mom hissed, her eyes closing, her thighs spreading further, her breath coming fast, her face red, her chest heaving. "M-maybe. I don't know. Depends on work." Her ass was shifting in her chair, hips rolling as she tried to maintain a veneer of calm. Dad was so fucking unaware, glued to his screen while his son violated his wife right across the table from him. I knew she was close. Just when my mother started to clamp down, I withdrew my fingers, robbing her of release.

I smiled at her and licked them clean, masking the lewd motion like it was just from breakfast. Mom tasted sweet and spicy, her ripe pussy delicious to me.

"Well, I'm done," I said, wiping my mouth and setting my napkin down. Denying Mom and giving her a taste of my sexual frustration felt gratifying.

"What?" Mom panted, her eyes flying open, her body tense. "No, stay, please."

"Gotta shower and get ready!" I said. I leaned over to kiss her temple. "Thanks for the food, Mom."

"But-"

I walked away, leaving her panting, her legs spread, her body quivering.

Dad and I played Minigolf among the windmills, tunnels, and looping bridges of the outdoors Putterz course -- standard father-son stuff, except I was trying to fuck and impregnate his wife under his nose. I didn't feel that bad considering Dad spent most of the time complaining about her.

"God damn, Linda's been acting so weird lately," Dad grumbled.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I think something's bothering her, or she's mad at me again or something. She's been, I don't know, distracted, not herself. She's not very responsive, not interested in anything." He whiffed on a putt.

"Huh. Maybe it's work?" I guessed innocently. I judged the distance around the little course of the 5th hole and gave my ball a knock, watching it bump and roll down the astroturf.

"Who knows," Dad chuffed. "Women. God's gift to man, huh? Can't live with em' and...can't live with 'em!"

We hit up the arcade and wasted about ten bucks in quarters on an old Area 51 cabinet. They had an Alpine Surfer there too and a Star Wars Trilogy Arcade. Made me feel like I was 6 years old again. Back when I was still innocent. But I couldn't go back.

We ended up seeing the movie by ourselves. Dad loved making annoying-ass commentary during the movie and continuously asking me if I liked it. Afterwards, I hung out at the house and helped Dad work on his car, waiting for Mom to return from her shift at the Children's Hospital. By the time she got back, Dad was already out with his friends again for another night of bowling and booze.

"Hi Mom," I smiled at her knowingly as I approached her in the foyer.

"Hi, Zach," Mom said, her tone flat, her voice quiet, her face flushed. She was still in her scrubs, hair pulled into a work braid.

I closed the distance between us, daring to put my hands on her firm ass, squeezing it and crushing our pelvises together.

"How was work?" I asked, my lips inches from hers.

"Mmh," Mom moaned, her face reddening, her hands pushing at my chest, face turning away. "Zach, no, no," she whispered, her words lacking conviction.

"Let's go upstairs and finish what I started this morning," I tempted her, grinding my growing hardness against her groin.

"N-no, no," she stammered, her hips weakly pressing back. "Zach..."

I kissed her cheek, then her ear.

"Let me fuck you tonight," I whispered, my hands cupping her ass, groping her, luxuriating in the feel of her body against mine. I didn't care that she smelled like antiseptic and iodine. "Don't make me wait like last time. I want you pregnant."

"Pregnant...?" Mom wailed quietly, her head tipping back, her mouth hanging open, her hips squirming against mine, her nipples so hard. "God...no...what are you saying? It's just a sick fantasy, we can never--!"

"Yes, yes, we can," I insisted, kissing her neck, feeling her arch it into my lips. "We will."

"Zach, please," she pleaded, her arms wrapping around me, her body trembling. "Stop. Stop."

"No," I refused, my hands roaming, one reaching around her back, the other finding her breast, fondling it possessively as the nipple hardened, large and stiff and hot. "I'm going to fuck you, Mom, and you're going to get pregnant. I know it turns you on too."

Mom mewled through her bit bottom lip, her hands clutching at me, her body shuddering. "God, oh, god. Zach, we can't, you know we can't."

"Fuck, I'm so hard right now," I growled, pulling her tighter. "Feel it."

Mom whimpered, her hips pressing into me, thighs spreading, her head tilting back, eyes glazed and lustful. Her hand found my bulge and her fingers stroked over it. I pulled the neck of her top down, her bra strap sliding down her shoulder. My cock was straining, throbbing so hard. My mother's body was much more receptive to my advances now. Tonight was the night.

As I started undressing her, Fate interrupted us again with the bright headlights of my dad's car washing through the driveway and illuminating the living room window just a few feet away. How the fuck was he coming home so early? My mother yelped and ripped herself away from me, fleeing up the stairs.

"Shit!" I growled, stomping into the living room to fume, my big, steel-hard cock enraged and painfully restrained in my pants.

"Guess who's back!" Dad called from downstairs, the front door swinging open.

"Hi, Honey," Mom called from upstairs, her voice high-pitched and strained.

"How was your day?"

"Oh, just, um, fine," Mom replied, her footsteps creaking on the floorboards above.

"That's good," Dad said, coming up the stairs. "I gotta leave early tomorrow morning, just got the call that Bob's out sick, so I need to cover. I know it's Saturday and we were all supposed to go over to..."

I was seething, my mind racing. I was done playing nice. I would take what I wanted tomorrow, whether Mom liked it or not.

***

The next morning was Saturday. I slept late, but when I woke up, I could hear the sounds of Mom's yoga routine, her grunting and groaning; the slaps and thumps of her body against the mat. The sounds were driving me crazy, my blood boiling.

I threw off the sheets and padded downstairs, stark naked. Mom was in the living room, her body oiled and glistening, her hair pulled back, the sun filtered through the drawn blinds. She was contorted, her legs spread, fat camel-toed crotch pointed straight up, her arms extended out past her ears, palms pressing down onto the mat. She was wearing a black sports bra and purple yoga pants that were cut high and tight, the material hugging her body, putting her round, beautiful ass on display. Mom was panting, her covered, taut breasts heaved with her breaths, big nipples outlined as she shifted and moved, slowly lowering her legs and torso into a downward dog.

My half-hardened cock slapped at my thighs as I came down the stairs, obscene morning wood thickening and engorging to rise and strain fully erect as I watched Mom twist her supple, feminine body and sweat from the effort.

She saw me, and her eyes widened. I could see the fear and lust in them as they crawled over my nakedness, my strong, cut body in its prime. I could see the gathering shame in her eyes, the fear and excitement. She must have seen the insane resolve in my eyes, in the stalking posture of my young body.

"Zach, I don't want this...!" Mom mewled, her voice low and desperately pleading, her eyes riveted on my big, throbbing dick.

"I don't care," I said through my teeth, advancing. I was like a madman, half-feral in my incestuous need.

"Oh, Zach, no," Mom begged, her body shifting, her ass sticking out as she started to get up. But I got right behind her, my hands on her hips, pulling her close, my cock sliding along the crack of her ass. She dropped down to her elbows and knees with a grunt of protest.

"I'm going to fucking make you pregnant right now," I groaned, more of an animal than human in my need.

"No, Zach, please!" Mom yelped, her hips and ass grinding back against me, her movements involuntary, her mind and her body conflicted. She begged me with a whimper. "Please don't do this. Anything but this, please..."

"I can't," I growled, one hand leaving her hip, snaking down and grabbing the waistband of her tight pants, yanking them down to expose the creamy flesh of her ass and the dark, wet bush of her pussy.

"Nouuah!" Mom half-moaned, half-sobbed, her face flushed, body trembling. "Oh, Zach, you have to stop this, we have to stop this!"

My reply was a harsh grind of my cock against Mom's ass while I reached forward to wrench open her sports bra, freeing her tits. I kneaded and groped her, her fat, long nipples rolled stiff between my fingers. "Just fucking accept it," I growled. "You're going to mother my children."

"Ohhhh," Mom gasped, her ass smacking against my lap, her cunt leaking, her pussy hair matted with arousal. Her voice was small and hoarse, words almost meaningless, a final act of desperate resistance: "You're my son, Zach!"

"But I'm also Aaron," I grunted, pushing my cockhead against her cuntlips. "I'm Aaron. I've always been Aaron..."

Shit, she was so fucking wet.

Mom whined, her hips rocking, legs spreading involuntarily as her pussy lips parted for her son's invading dick.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Mom," I growled.

Mom groaned wordlessly, shaking her head, even as her pussy started to swallow my cockhead. I gripped her hips firmly, sliding inch after thick, throbbing, veiny, glorious inch into my mother's hot, steamy, wet cunt. Stretching her open as I returned to where I came from. It felt like she was made for me, rippling and sucking me in with indescribable, forbidden pleasure. It was everything I'd lusted for, and more.

I was damned. I was saved.

Mom cried out, her back arching, her legs spreading, her hairy pussy filling with more of her son's big, thick, pulsing dick. "NOOoooo! Zaaa-haaaachh..."

"You're so fucking tight," I grunted, feeling the walls of her cunt stretching to accommodate me, her inner muscles clenching down and pulling, sucking at me to get more of her son's cock.

"It's...mnnff...too big," Mom panted, her hands braced on the mat, her body shuddering as her son's huge, powerful shaft invaded her womb, filling her, spreading her so much.

"It's all for you, Mom," I breathed, leaning forward, my mouth by her ear, my hands gripping her breasts, squeezing and kneading, her hips grinding back. "Your pussy wants this so bad..."

"Noooo..ohhhgh..." Mom squirmed, lying again, shaking her head.

"Tell me the truth," I hissed, my hands leaving her breasts, trailing down, my palms pressing against her abdomen, like I could feel my thickness buried inside her, pounding her cunt into a shape that would fit all 9 inches of her forceful new lover, her son.

Mom breathed in a grunt, her voice low and husky, her pussy twitching around my thick, swollen meat. "Yes," she finally admitted, her face red, her eyes wild and unfocused.

"That's it," I snarled, sliding out until just the tip was wedged between her folds, then thrusting back into her.

"Ahhh," Mom gasped, her whole body moving, her ass bouncing, her tits jiggling.

"Tell me you want to get pregnant," I demanded, pulling back, then ramming my cock deep. Mom moaned in a wordless reply, her ass shaking, her body writhing. I growled, starting to fuck her hard, pounding her hot womanly cunt. She groaned, her eyes screwed shut, her body tensing as it lurched forward with each of my savage thrusts, her breasts udders swinging lewdly underneath.

"Say it," I snapped, my cock driving into her, my balls slapping against her.

"I can't," Mom strained in a whisper, her face twisting, her teeth bared in an almost animalistic way as she stared back at me with growing lust and utterly sinful pleasure that she at first grudgingly, then joyfully accepted.

"Say it, fucking say it," I grunted, my body pressed tight against hers, the sound of skin slapping, of her grunts and moans, my heavy breathing and exertions filling the air. "This is YOUR fault!" Stop fighting it," I snarled, feeling her pussy spasming, her hips moving in time with mine.

"Oh, oh, oh," Mom chanted, her face flushing, her heavy tits swaying beneath her.

"Mom," I luxuriated in our depraved coupling, my cock swelling, balls clenching. I knew she could feel it as she came gently and shivered against me, tensing up as her higher brain functions cried out in alarm.

"Zach, not inside," Mom urged, her eyes flying open, her body jerking. "You can't, not inside."

"I'm gonna cum, and you're gonna take it," I said through my teeth, my voice low.

"Please, not...aauuu...nngh...inside!" Mom panted, her hips rocking, her pussy sucking and milking even as she started to squirm to get away. I held her firmly in place against the mat.

"You're going to get pregnant," I groaned, my cock spasming, the tension in my balls almost unbearable.

Mom moaned, shaking her head in a desperate, pleasure-filled thrash, her hair plastered to her neck and shoulders. Her fingers dug into the blue-hued, natural rubber of the mat beneath her, leaving deep gouges as I fucked her into the floor.

I drove my big young cock as deep as I could, burying myself in my mother's hot, slick, tight cunt as I battered myself up heavily against the entrance to her womb.

"OH, GOD, FUCK, ZACH, NO, AHHHHH," Mom cried, her body shaking, her pussy contracting.

I howled as I exploded thick white ropes of seed to shoot deep inside my mother's fertile, aching womb. I just kept cumming over and over, erupting out all of my awful incestuous love and lust, my sick desire to impregnate her now a frightening, wonderfully depraved reality.

Mom screamed, her pussy convulsing, her body shaking as she came so hard it hurt.

"Ohh noo...no..." she moaned in a strangled whisper, her body shuddering from the huge, incest-driven orgasm. "There's so much..." Her hands flew down to her lower belly, where the hot, sticky jets of my seed were filling her womb within, her fingers splaying over her flesh, her palms pressing into her navel in amazement, as if she could feel it there.

Mom mewled weakly, so fulfilled and thoroughly fucked to satisfaction, her voice soft and dreamlike, eyes glassy and distant.

"Oh, shit," I grunted, holding myself in like I was knotting a bitch in heat, willing my incestuous sperm to conceive my brothers and sisters, now my own children.

"It's so hot inside me," Mom panted, her body collapsing forward, her cheek on the mat, her ass still raised. I luxuriated in the feeling, my back still arched, frozen in that pose, my mouth open, a string of saliva dripping down between my mother's shoulder blades, eyes hooded.

My cock was still hard, even as I started to pull out.

"Ouuuhhh..." Mom sighed, her pussy making loud, lewd, slurping noises as I removed my cock, inch after inch emerging, the shaft coated in her juices and my seed. My cum dripped from her in an unending gush to patter and pool onto her yoga mat.

"I...I can't believe this happened," Mom groaned as she began to come down from her high, her rational brain back in control. Her face flushed, breathing heavy as she rolled onto her side, curling up. Mom was whimpering to herself. "I need to douche...I have to get this out of me..."

I leaned down to tenderly embrace her, holding her close. I picked her up easily in my strong arms to carry her slender, disheveled, and well-sexed body up the stairs. She clung to me, her limbs wrapping around me. I carried her to my bedroom, setting her gently down on my bed.

"Stay with me, please," Mom whispered, her eyes glazed.

"Of course," I murmured, joining her in my bed, cradling her.

"I'm sorry," Mom whimpered, her arms encircling me, her head resting on my chest.

"For what?"

"I'm a horrible person, an awful mother," Mom cried. "I should have never done this, let you do this."

E102 clawed into my mind as I spooned her. 'You are fated to couple with your mother you will bring a breed of children into the light no man can bear to see--you will kill your father, the one who gave you life!'

Taken literally, it was meant to be a warning, but I just saw it as laughable, twisted irony now.

"Don't blame yourself," I soothed. "We both want this." It was just fate. As Mom tried to deny it, I went between her legs, pulling off her yoga pants and removing her panties. I pushed my face into her hairy sex and started lapping and sucking at her pussy lips.

"Mmm," Mom purred, her hips wriggling, her back arching, her eyes closing, her fingers tangling in my hair.

"Oh, Zach," she moaned, her hips bucking, her head tossing, her voice growing more excited. "No one's done this in years...god...you shouldn't but it feels so good...Zach, Z-Zach yes," Mom whimpered, her ass rising off the mattress, her feet planted, body rocking. Her resistance crumbled in the face of the pleasure I was giving her; she begged me to suck on her clit. Maybe she realized that she had no choice but to give in. That she wanted this.

"OOOHHhhhh my good boy..."

"I'm getting close, Zach," Mom panted, her voice high-pitched and breathy, her face flushed, her pussy leaking.

"Cum, Mom, cum," I urged, my mouth sucking on her clit, her lips, her labia.

"Oh, fuck, oh, yes, Zach, o-o-o-ohhhhhh, ahhhhhh," Mom gasped, her body spasming, her toes curling, her thighs clamping around my head, her pussy squirting on my face, her fingers clutching my hair.

I groaned, lapping at her juices, her creamy, delicious, sweet, feminine, wifely cream, my mother's pussy juice.

Mom collapsed, her breathing heavy.

"Fuck, Zach, you're so good at that," Mom whispered, her eyes wide.

"I'll do it all the time," I murmured the promise, hardening again as I moved up to lift her sports bra up over her head, leaving her naked and exposed to me.

"What are you doing?" Mom asked, her voice nervous.

"Making love to my mother," I replied, my hands cupping her heavy, mature breasts, kneading them, torturing her nipples.

"Oh, Zach, oh, Zachhhh," Mom whimpered, her face scrunching up.

"I want to be inside you," I breathed before taking a fat teat into my mouth and suckling her breast.

"AaAAAghh! You shouldn't, we shouldn't, not again," Mom moaned, her body writhing under mine, her hands pushing weakly at me. I didn't listen, my big cockhead prodding insistently as I slid it over her wet, messy entrance. Mom whined, even as her traitorous body shifted, her legs spreading to welcome me back in. Her arms reached up to pull me down to her by my shoulders for better access to her teat, wide hips moving up to grind her cuntlips against the underside of my pulsing shaft.

"God I'm so weak," Mom bleated, her body quivering as her legs spread even wider for me.

"Just accept it," I breathed, easing my throbbing dick into her warm, hot, slick cunt.

"Haaaaah...I'm...a terrible person," Mom whispered, her eyes hooded, staring, mouth agape, her body sweating against mine.

"It doesn't matter," I murmured, slowly and tenderly pumping my cock in and out of her. "I am too."

"Mmmm, Zach," Mom groaned, her arms going around me, her nails raking my back. "Yess it feels so good, my good boy, my son..."

Mom," I grunted, her tight cunt squeezing and rippling.

"NNnnnnh....You're fucking me, you're fucking me, Zach," Mom gasped, her body shaking, her face and chest flushed, beading with sweat. Finally starting to really, truly enjoy it with abandon. My cock pulsed, stretching her tight, clinging sheath. I loomed over her, watching her breasts heave as I thrust into her hairy mother cunt. I was a real motherfucker now, I thought, not really caring. This woman was my mate, and that was all that mattered.

"You're so big, so deep," Mom moaned, her legs spreading wide as I violated her again, her heels lifting, knees bending, her whole body rocking with me.

"You're perfect," I grunted, my cock swelling, stretching her.

"Mmm, oh, Zach, you're getting bigger," Mom whimpered, her voice cracking, her pussy clutching.

"I'm getting close," I hissed, my cock pulsing, my balls aching.

"No, not inside again," Mom groaned, her face and chest bright red, her hands helplessly pushing at my shoulders. "Please, not inside...cum in my mouth, on my ass, anywhere but in me..."

I grunted, not listening as I hammered my cock into her, my balls slapping against her sweat-covered flesh. The whole mattress squeaked and rocked in protest.

My mother's whole body was taut, like a live wire was running through it, her hips bucking up into me for more. Despite her cries to the contrary, her thighs pressed against me, her feet on my back locking at the ankles to draw me in even deeper.

"Gonna cum," I hissed, my body tensing, my cock expanding with obscene purpose inside her.

Mom could only shake her head from side to side in wordless, whining protest overloaded by twisted, incestuous ecstasy, her eyes wild, her hair disheveled, mouth open, pussy spasming.

I growled, driving my cock deep, erupting, my seed firing, spurting, splashing, jetting, her womb flooded. "UNHggh GET PREGNANT!"

"AHHH, FUCK, ZACH, OH, AHHHH, NOOOO," Mom screamed, her whole body arching as her orgasm tore through her. She seized up once, then again, and again and again before she finally went limp against my strong teenage body. Mom whimpered as she held onto me for dear life, her gorgeous body still lightly convulsing in pleasure.

"Oooohhhhh," Mom moaned, her cunt milking, sucking, draining all that I had to give.

I snarled like a dominant animal, grinding myself deep inside my mother, my cum overflowing; drooling out around the flesh plug I'd made with my cock and her cunt.

"Oh, god, oh, Zach, you came in me so much," Mom groaned after another tremor, her arms tight around me, nails digging into my back. Her green eyes were blank, cunt still rippling around me.

"You're going to be a great mom again," I breathed, smiling, panting above her, my sweat dripping down onto her chest. "I want a son, okay? A little brother."

My mother's gaze softened. I don't know why she finally gave in -- maybe it was her body finally being fulfilled after so long, or maybe she just knew it was useless to fight it any longer. Whatever the reason, I saw that familiar, lascivious look that SensualSiren gave me so often simmering in Mom's slowly focusing eyes.

"Okay," she nodded, as a slow, contented smile began to form.

"You'll name him Aaron, right?"

"Yesss," Mom groaned, her hands moving, her fingers tracing my shoulders. She pulled me down into a desperate, anguished kiss of a lover, a mate -- the last line for us to cross as my incestuous seed raced to find her eggs.

***

The weeks passed by and Mom gave herself completely to me. She marveled at my stamina, how I wasn't satisfied unless we fucked at least three times a day, often in the same session. We did it all without Dad knowing. I made a point to fuck her on the hood of his Camero while he was out; she'd never cum harder. I was always circling around her, like a dog after a bitch in heat. Mom was always receptive, needy for my cock and my young, strong body. Her and Siren finally became one as I rutted the last of her reservations out of her through days and nights of hot, grinding, incestuous fucking.

As we continued, it didn't take long for Mom to show signs of pregnancy. She'd convinced Dad it was his after he'd come home late one night early on, blind drunk. Made it so the next morning they woke up naked in bed together, and Mom confessed that he'd grunted over her in the night and gotten off inside her. Dad was freaked and furious, of course, still bitter about the unplanned pregnancies when he and Mom were high school sweethearts. Thinking only about how hard it'd been; the burden on him. He held onto that resentment all these years instead of being a man and moving on. Despite all the threats, my mother made it clear she was keeping the baby. Enraged, Dad spent a lot of time apart after that, which suited Mom and me just fine. He didn't deserve her or her body. I did, and I'd taken his place in the most primal of ways -- the father of her new children.

I loved watching my mother's little belly grow, and I felt an almost animalistic pride at her changing, blossoming form, her slender, once toned, flat-stomached physique growing swollen and ripe with the wonderfully salacious life I had planted within her.

"You're really starting to show, Mom," I husked one night, feeling her swollen, gravid stomach rubbing on my hard abs as she rode me like an animal on my bed. Her knocking pregnant breasts were engorged, nipples fat teats begging to be suckled.

"Un UNH...hhh..I know," Mom panted, her hips and ass bouncing, her tits jiggling, the dark hair she was growing out whipping about. "It's happening so much sooner than with you or Chloe," she grunted proudly before letting out a huge moan as I bottomed out in her hairy mother pussy.

"Ouuuhhhhh, oh, fuck, Zach, I'm getting so horny these days," Mom whimpered, her eyes pleading.

"That's good," I growled, thrusting up, meeting her downward strokes, my hands squeezing and kneading her milk-ripened tits.

"I need you to take me like an animal every day now son," Mom moaned, her eyes unfocused, her body glistening as she sweat, her skin flushed, her pussy twitching, her womb convulsing. "I get so fucking horny when I'm pregnant, Zach. You did this, now you need to take care of me."

"I will, Mom," I said through my teeth as I bucked my hips and thrust up into her with each of her downward strokes. My hands moved to rest on the swell of her stomach as we rutted together. "Give me a daughter next," I groaned, urging her on. "A cute little sister who isn't a bitch like Chloe."

"Stop!" she squealed with a guilty grin. "Such a bad boy...Mmunnnhh...Ahhh, yes, fuck, I will, yes, Zach," Mom moaned, her nails digging into my chest, her cunt rippling and clenching, her body heaving and dripping with sweat. "I'll give you whatever you want, as long as you keep me satisfied with that big cock of yours," Mom whimpered, her body bouncing faster, her pussy leaking.

"I wanna see her suck your hot fucking tits. You're gonna breastfeed her while you're pregnant with our third."

"Oh, Zach, fuck, fuck," Mom moaned, her body shuddering, her pussy contracting as she came once and then again with a squeal, her wide hips trembling, shaking from her protruding belly up to her breasts, back arched, head leaning back. As her hairy pregnant cunt gripped and milked me, I throbbed and expanded inside her, groaning out as I raced towards orgasm.

"Yes, yes, unnnh," Mom purred as she felt my impending cum. I cried out and began to spurt in a geyser of seed, my muscles heating up, straining against my mother as I pulled her down by her thighs to go deeper inside. Mom winced in ecstasy, her whole body shivering as my cum splashed against her already pregnant womb.

My mother's sweaty body collapsed, her head landing on my chest, cheek nuzzling my young, perspiring skin, secure against the strength of my teenage body. "I want a family with you, Zach," she murmured.

"I'll give you one, Mom," I assured her, my voice low and husky, hands caressing her back as it rose and fell with each of her panting breaths. "A big one."

"Oh, Zach, my sexy son..." Mom sighed, her voice dreamy, her hand caressing her lower belly, her womb, our baby. "I know you will."

We rested in silence, recovering, the little swell of her pregnant belly pressing against my abs.

Our lives were changed forever, lost to pleasure, to forbidden love, to incest. Maybe I was blind to how damned and depraved I was, but when I was with Mom, inside her, nothing else mattered.

'The mother left to breed with her own seed, children by her child. The cradle has become thy marriage bed.'