Taboo: A Memoir, Chapter Two

by Tom Hathaway

Click for Chapters: ONE, TWO, or THREE

(Sliptongue is proud to serialize the first three chapters of Tom Hathaway's novel, TABOO: A MEMOIR, published by Dandelion Books.)

Chapter Two

I was dreaming my penis was a candle, and mother leaned over and lit the wick with a match, not to burn it but to inflame it with passion. She had to get quite close, but it didn't hurt at all and the wick took fire and the whole candle glowed with translucent blue light that shone over our faces.

I woke up in mom's bed holding her in my arms and thought I was still dreaming. We were nude and I watched her sleep, breasts rising and falling as she breathed. They seemed like twin worlds, each complete in itself yet complementing the other in their double glory.

Think of what you did! an inner voice yammered at me. Now you're a motherfucker. That's the worst, the pits. You're a freak, a geek, a weirdo. My throat tightened—the voice was trying to strangle me.

For relief I stared at the curved fullness of Diana's tits and thought of how they had thrilled me last night. I yearned to suck them again. Now the nipples were smaller, softer, paler, blending in more.

The sight of them relaxed my throat, and I breathed deeply. You're just an uptight square, I told the voice. Last night was fantastic...far out...revolutionary. The revolution begins at home. We're the Che Guevaras of sex.

Mom's thick russet hair was tangled around her sprightly face. The nostrils of her slightly upturned nose swelled and contracted slowly as she breathed. Dotting her cheeks were faded brown speckles that had once been youthful freckles. I hoped mine would fade someday too. Her mouth was closed, lips puffed out a little, their color now a pale pink with all the crimson lipstick kissed away by me. I had seen her face wearing so many expressions, but never this one of deep rest. I was stunned by how beautiful my mother was, so unworried and peaceful. Love for her welled up in me in great waves. Twelve hours ago I would've scoffed at the idea of loving my mother. Now the feeling was so strong all I could do was enjoy it.

One golden-brown eye opened, looked at me, and closed. A groggy murmur emerged from Diana's lips. She opened the eye to look at me again, then opened both eyes. Her oval face sharpened with a shock of recognition. "Tommy! What are you doing here?"

Rather than answering, I smiled, tried to look innocent, and snuggled up against her. She patted me reflexively, then caught herself; her eyes widened as memory returned. "Oh...no!" She snatched at the sheet to cover herself, then shook her head, mouth gaping in disbelief. "We didn't!"

With her breasts now hidden, I resisted the urge to pull the sheet off. "We did," I said, "and it was great."

Her covering herself had uncovered me; she stared at her son's morning erection, then blushed and averted her eyes. "Tommy, get out. This is awful." She began to cry, holding the sheet to her face. "What've we done?" A wail burst from mom's lips and tears spilled from her eyes.

The sobs that wracked her body also wracked my heart. For the first time I understood how painful it is to see a person you love in pain. I stroked her head and cuddled in close to her, trying to reassure her. "It's OK...everything is fine."

"No!" Diana persisted. "I can't bear to think about it." I rubbed her shoulders to soothe her while she cried and snuffled into the sheet. I pulled a tissue from the bedside table and gave it to her. She blew her nose with eyes closed, unable to look at me. She was like a hurt child, and I longed to comfort her. I rose above her back, which was heaving with sobs, and began to massage her, my penis swaying heavily as I moved.

"No...no!" she chanted again.

I rubbed her back with both hands, trying to knead the knots of tension away. "Don't talk, just cry."

Mom obeyed me. I was amazed. She cried in long breathy moans, a little calmer now. I gave her more tissues, and she nodded in thanks. I felt so tender towards her. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her, but I was afraid to get words going because they might rouse her fears again, so I hugged her through the sheet. She cried louder, and I rocked her in my arms. The motion uncovered her breasts. As I drank in their beauty with my eyes, the nipples stiffened and darkened. They knew they were being admired and wanted more of it. They really did have a mind of their own; they just couldn't talk, so they had to send me different signals. I certainly wanted more of them.

I slipped under the sheet next to her, sighing with delight at her warmth and smoothness. "No," her chant began again. As I kissed a motherly breast, she rolled away from me, turning onto her side. "We can't...it's wrong."

Since I was confronted with the sleekness of her back, I began to rub it again. I looked down at her rear end, so round and curvy, the cheeks almost like breasts in their double voluptuousness. I didn't dare stroke them yet for fear she would leap out of bed, but I very much wanted to. I spooned in close behind her, though, and brought my legs against hers.

My thing brushed Diana's buns and began throbbing with excitement. Her crying had quieted, but at this touch it grew louder. I pulled my organ away to keep her from bolting, and rubbed her back some more. This calmed her again, but I was wild with frustration. My hard-on was straining out towards her, bursting with eagerness, furious at being repressed. I looked down and saw a sheen of moisture at the top of her legs. The hairs were wet and glistening like last night. She wants it too! Maybe I can get in from this side.

Very slowly I edged up against her again. Mom's bottom was cool against my warm member. This touch increased her crying, and her body heaved with each sob. Each time she moved, I pressed a little deeper between her legs, seeking passage. I didn't know much about female anatomy, but I knew my goal was somewhere in that area. I wanted to get back inside her more than I'd ever wanted anything, and this made me creative. I kept timing my moves to hers to avoid alarming her. Her buns now pinched my cock tantalizingly, but my tip kept nudging up against solid ground. Finally it felt slick dampness and began following the trail, sliding towards the source. Fortunately she had a nice compact rump so I could get in close.

Things got wetter and warmer, and I got more excited knowing I was on the right track. I bumped into a wall, though, that stopped me. Her body froze as she felt me there. "No!" mom wailed and tried to wiggle away, but I held her hips. As she continued to wiggle against my shaft, her motions and my pressure parted the wall and let me enter. I had found her secret passage.

With a gasp of pleasure I pushed deeper inside. The divine feeling of last night returned. I was home, back where I belonged, plugged into the source of everything. I pressed into my mother, and the farther inside her I went, the better it got.

"Oh, Tommy, my god, don't!" Diana's voice was raw from crying but also from passion.

I reached up and encircled her with my arms, clutched her brimming breasts, and held her tightly against me. "We have to," I said and I pressed on. With a yielding moan she tilted her pelvis towards me so I could enter all the way. As I plunged into her maternal glory, she lifted her chin, jutted out her throat, and groaned.

It was so wonderful entering her that I wanted to do it again. I pulled out almost to the top and pushed back in, feeling waves of delight from the tight clutch of her vagina. She gave a low grunt of satisfaction. I'd never heard my mother make a sound like that before. It thrilled me that I could push that sound out of her.

I kept moving in and out, slowly to make it last longer. I was still groggy from last night, so I could prolong the sensations. I'd never imagined anything could feel so good. She was moving with me, eyes closed, mouth open, panting.

Our sex smell had festered and increased since last night, and now it billowed out, filling our nostrils, exciting us even more with its ripe odor. Twelve hours ago we had been mother and virgin teenaged son. Now we were two dirty lovers fucking each other. Nothing had ever been so fine.

I kneaded Diana's breasts gently, massaging out to the tips and fondling the erect nipples. They were such a wonderful blend of soft and firm, bouncy yet yielding, so much fun to squeeze and play with, especially with my cock inside her. I wanted very much to suck them, but they were out of lip range. You can't have everything...at least not all at once, I thought. Instead, I kissed and nibbled the back of her neck, then sucked it a long time to leave a mark that would brand her as mine. I felt incredibly possessive of her. I knew now I'd always loved and wanted her but had never admitted it before.

I looked down at our bodies working together in perfect coordination. Her bottom was nuzzled up against my tummy, and each time I pushed in, my force squeezed and flattened her buns, and she made that sound again. We rocked back and forth as our passion mounted. She clutched my hips as they drove into her.

I wanted to know more about mom's special Place, so I brought one hand down to explore it from the front. My fingers slid through a hot, mysterious realm of folds, crevices, and nodes, all of them wet. I probed and caressed her labyrinth while pumping her from the back. The sound of her breathing sharpened and grew faster; she thrust the fingers of my other hand into her mouth and chewed on them. Her hips swiveled as if dancing with my strokes. She cried out, "Oh, Tommy, there, there...yes...press, YES...again...PLEASE! Oh GOD!" Her body flexed and stretched, flexed and stretched, and she shouted long and loud, her voice becoming a waterfall, a hurricane, an avalanche.

The explosion of her passion pushed me over the edge, and I erupted into her, thrusting to the hilt, pounding against my mother's butt and thighs, clutching her dear body for dear life, streams of juice pouring from me into her, screams of joy pouring from my mouth. We were wild and helpless in our thrashing union, closer than we'd ever been since the cord had been cut.

Gradually we quieted and lay together awed and exhausted by what we'd given each other. The force of our lust ebbed into a peaceful calm, a bliss of togetherness. We held and petted each other, mumbling incoherent shards of sound that occasionally became, "I love you."

We turned facing. Still unable to look at each other, we sought lips and lost ourselves in deep kisses. In a merging swirl, each surrendered to the other, having finally found what we'd been seeking all these years. Eventually we spun back to ourselves and were able to gaze into the magic of the other's eyes with total acceptance, knowing there could be no turning back, but not knowing what lay ahead except more of this.

Diana managed to rouse herself to speech. "This is...really...too heavy." She looked at me as if she expected the world to fall on us. "What are we going to do?" As she propped herself up on her elbows, mom's breasts spread out, relieved from being squashed.

I gazed at them, and the world seemed fine to me. I was totally blissed out. I stretched my arms. "Let's eat breakfast."

She hit me with a pillow. Then she gasped and covered her mouth. "What if I'm pregnant!" She closed her eyes and counted to herself, fingers and lips moving, breasts swaying. "Whew, probably not. But we need to be careful."

I was glad to hear this last because it implied we were going to keep doing it.

First she made me shower, then she made me waffles, my favorite breakfast, with hot maple syrup that now reminded me of her syrup.

Trying to return to "normal," we sat at the kitchen table for a typical Saturday breakfast wearing our standard jeans and T-shirts. Diana's chestnut hair fell halfway to her hips, my brown hair halfway to my shoulders. Her gamine face was tense as she brooded on what we'd done, but underneath she was glowing with contentment. "So...I guess we...did it...didn't we?"

"We sure did." I gave her a waffle grin. "And it was fantastic."

Our faces kept falling apart as we looked at each other. The old facial expressions didn't work anymore, and we were having to invent new ones. My "son" look and her "mom" look had to change into something else now that we were lovers.

She shook her head as if she still couldn't believe it. "Nothing will ever be the same again, will it?"

I thought it was sweet how she was turning these statements into questions, asking me for confirmation. She'd never done that before with me. "No, it can't be," I said. "It'll be better."

Worries pinched the corners of her brown eyes and darted her pouting lips. "No one can know about this, Tommy. No one! Ever!"

"Our secret," I agreed.

"I haven't begun to figure this out. Maybe it can't be figured out." Her head slumped into her hands. "I just know...we..." When I leaned over and kissed her, she relaxed, her face becoming smooth again. "I give up," she said with a shrug. "Love is strange...just like the song says."

"It's the best thing that ever happened to me." I meant every word of it.

"Then good, I'm glad." She squeezed my hand with an ironic smile. "I mean, what else are moms for?"

I cleared the breakfast dishes away and began washing them. Diana stared at me in stupefaction, and I realized I'd never done this of my own free will before. She'd always had to pester me into it. Now helping her seemed just another way of being close to her, the natural thing to do.

"Well, if I'd known it was going to make you do the dishes"—she tossed up her hands in amazement—"I'd have given it to you ten years ago."

_______________

Click for Chapters: ONE, TWO, or THREE


For more information about TABOO: A MEMOIR click on the bookcover:

TABOO: A MEMOIR
© 2005 by Tom Hathaway
All rights reserved.

 
     
     

 

 



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