Annie was sprawled slackly on me, sleepily kissing my throat and murmuring over and over: “Thank you, thank you.” Gunilla had cradled my head on her cunt and was stroking my hair, looking down at me with eyes sweet with love. Gustav was sleeping against my side. I knew it was my destiny. I knew I must always have the women around me.
I eased Annie off, got up, and looked at my watch. It was late. We had to get Annie ready for dinner. She was drunk with pleasure; she just lay there cooing to herself. “Nilla,” I said, helping her up, “we have to get Annie dressed.” Gunilla hugged me to her plush nakedness saying, “ummmmm-ah!” We started getting the clothes together. We got Annie to the bed and began dressing her, playing with her body at the same time. It was wonderful to see how happy she was.
“Yes, yes,” she said. “I'm all right. I'll go and serve dinner.” Then her face opened even more: “But I want to thank you. All my life I have dreamed of, wanted, needed total ecstasy. The total achievement of being alive. Today I had it, and I thank you both. I am your slave. Truly. That's all I'll ever want now-to serve you.” Tears of joy filled her eyes and she ran out.
While I was getting cleaned up in my room, I began to worry about Mother again. Not only was I shy about facing her after what I'd done on the beach, but I was apprehensive about how angry she might be. But when I got to the table, she wasn't there. Louise said Mother wanted to lie down because she was tired. And that she wanted to see me after dinner! I hardly realized I was eating; my thoughts were on the audacity of what I'd done to Mother and how I was about to lose all that I'd found.
When I'd finished, I nervously went up and knocked on her door. She called come in. She was lying on the bed and motioned for me to approach. After looking at me a while without speaking, she told me to lock the door. When I returned to the bed, she still just looked at me-her face non-committal. Then, staring steadily into my eyes, she began to speak in a low voice:
“Lars, ever since you entered this house, there has been a different atmosphere. The appearance of dignity continues, but underneath there is a constant sexual fever. You have been the cause. Not only in general by your presence, but by your continual erotic activity. You are forever peeking into the clothes of your sisters. You have spied on me through the keyhole, and in the mirror, and from my closet, and through my window. When I try to talk with you, I notice you are looking up my skirt. You have hidden in Gunilla's room and watched the most intimate, the most sacredly private things between me and your Father. Besides that, you have had sexual relations with at least one of your sisters. I also have reason to believe you have been using the servants. Finally, when I took you to the beach to try to help you-carefully explaining the rules and limitations of what you were to do- you ended by feeling me up, your own mother, like you would some teenage tramp!”
I was too scared even to begin begging for forgiveness. I only hung my head. “The more I thought of it after I got away from you, Lars, the more clearly I saw that it was a choice between sending you back to the orphanage as unfit for a decent family, or allowing my home to be completely debauched. I realized that if I let you remain, I and all my family would become servants to your lust. You would make this fine house a brothel. Isn't that true?”
There was an endless sadness in me. It was hard to leave now that I'd known the pleasures of this rich world, and when I loved all these women so. But, at the same time, there was finally an acceptance of what I was and that my Me would be given up to that. I didn't want to change, even though it meant losing all this.
“What you say is true, Mother. I confess that I will never change. I don't blame you for sending me back. But I want you to know that I am more grateful than I know how to say for these few days of paradise. And I want you to know that I will love you for the rest of my life.” I was crying now.
“Oh, my baby, please don't cry. I'm not going to send you away. I was just teasing. Please don't cry. Please. Look what Mommy has for you.”
I looked up, bewildered. Mother was gently smiling at me with complete love and tenderness. As I looked, she began unbuttoning her blouse-saying again how I mustn't cry and to look at what Mommy had for her little baby. She opened her blouse all the way, pulling the bottom out of her skirt. She moved it back a little so I could see the total cleavage and began to stroke the inside slopes of her breasts as she talked.
“It was mean of me to scare you, Lars. The truth is that your presence has been a blessing to everyone in this house- except your father. Never has there been so much happiness here, so much pleasure in being alive. There is laughter, now, and love. I wake up in the morning surprised by joy and lie here wondering what way you'll make it a special day. You make each one a gift. I know that Gunilla and Louise and Annie feel the same. But they have thanked you by serving that splendid lust in you; I have not. That has to be changed. I am now going to do everything you've wanted. Would you' like me to show you my nipples, son? I've teased you and turned away so many times at the last second. This time I promise you it will be different. I'm not wearing a brassiere, so if I pull this blouse open a little more, you will see everything. Look.” She wet her fingers and rubbed the nipple. She did this several times until the material was wet and transparent, clearly showing the nipple. I couldn't believe my luck. I had resigned myself to being sent away, and suddenly here was Mother asking if I wanted to see her nipples. “Ask for it, Lars. Please ask me to show you my nipples so I'll know that you find your momma a little exciting.”
“Oh, Mother, I… I think you are gorgeous!”
“Then Momma will show her tits to her little baby.” She provocatively twisted her body back and forth so that the breasts slowly worked themselves out into the light. Suddenly the nipples were there. Tanned and excitingly large, with small crisp areolas. The breasts were miracles of beauty. They had a double curve, something like a pear, but not so pointed. The line of the curve was incredibly beautiful. For all her whiteness, I realized that Mother was a little tanned, because the breasts were even whiter. I could see the line where her halter had been. This was especially exciting, because it gave a sense of the breasts being spotlighted.
“In a moment you will touch them, Lars. Handle them. Suck them. But first I want you to see the rest, to see my cunt!” She unzipped her skirt. It was tight and she had to wiggle out. She exaggerated the motion for me. smiling almost wantonly. It was off. She lay there in only her pants and silk stockings. MOTHER! Lying there like that, smiling up at me. My eyes were so eager to see that they were confused. I tried to see everything at once, running from her breasts to her pants, to her open mouth, to her thighs so sexually naked above the stockings, to-the nipples, to the belly, to the pants…
“Poor little baby. It is hard for you to take it all in? Well, look behind you. I've moved the mirror so it shows the bed. I wanted us to be able to watch you fucking your mother. It gives a perspective that allows you to somehow have what you're having even more. The motion pictures you'll make of me will do the same thing. But look now and see how it makes it even more sexual seen at a distance.”
She was right. I saw her stretched out on the bed the white pants on the rose flesh, the white thighs above the dark stockings. I could take it all in better somehow or in a different way. As I watched, she moved until she was lying across the bed, her knees up and her buttocks just at the edge. “It makes me look like a whore in the mirror, doesn't it, Lars. Well I am. And I want to be. Because that's what you really like, Lars. And I love it. For the first time in my life I can allow the slut in me to show without feeling dirty. You make me feel somehow wanton and clean at the same time. But you do make me want to be a whore for you. And I will be. All you have to do is take off my pants.” I was suddenly shy again. It was absurd, but there it was. “Come on, darling, please take off mommy's panties,” she coaxed. “If you do that, you will have me in your power forever. Once we cross that line, I can never return to any pretence. Once you've played with my cunt, I can never again pretend to be your equal. From then on something in us will always remember you have had me in the incredible intimacy of fucking that doesn't allow me to be respectable in front of you. Inside we will know that I have whimpered under you, begging, without any pride left. Think of the obscenity of it, Lars. Think of this scene. Mother and son. Think what people would say. It is indecent and depraved. For me to be begging you to take your momma's pants off. But I do. I'm begging you to put your finger's in your mother's pussy. To play with me, to make my cunt juices smear your fingers. You will have it all my son if you just take off momma's panties.” (Impossible! The girls, yes. Or Annie. But to take off Mother's pants!) “Just a little courage, sweet, and I will be your plaything forever.” (The power moved in my blood. I stepped closer. Her crotch was sopping. The pants were transparent where they were soaked over her cunt.) “How does it feel Son, to see that you make Mother so hot it pours out of her?” (I reached. I slid my finger into the right leg and pulled the silk aside.) “Oh, yes, yes. That's even more obscene. Oh, you are lovely.” The hair was, surprisingly, red. Or a red-gold. Dark where it was wet. I stroked her and she began to moan. I slid my fingers into the slit. She moaned louder. I teased the clitoris and she began bucking spasmodically. (My fingers are in my mother's pussy, my mother loves it.) But I wanted inside. I slowly trailed my finger down to her hole. Mother's cunt hole. It was a pool! I stroked the edges again and again, occasionally letting my fingertip dip in just a tiny bit. There was a loud liquid sound. Her body kept straining up, obviously wanting to be entered. I pretended I was finally going to slide my finger in, but always stopped at the last second, returning to stroking the entrance. Again and again I led her to expect my finger inside; always drawing back at the last second. She, writhed and begged me. She reached down and took my wrist, trying to drive the finger in her.
“Stop that,” I ordered, the power clear in my voice. “Oh, yes, Son. Forgive me. I know you are my master now and I must beg for what I want. But, oh, I want it so much! Please put your finger in. I'll do anything. I'll let you fuck me. You can fuck me in the ass. I'll suck your cock. Anything! But please stick something in me.”
I made her wait another moaning minute, then I slowly slid my finger in. She let out a long, deep sigh. I moved the finger slowly in and out. Two fingers.
“Oh, yes,” she moaned. “Oh, that's so nice. Do that, little baby. Finger-fuck your mother. Oh, yes. Oh, yes. O, God, I'm coming. Oh sweet mother of Christ, I'm coming. I'm dying. Ohhhhhhhh…”
She shook all over, straining up. Her cunt fluttered. Then she finally sank back, making little bleats of pleasure. Seeing her come and sensing how I was her master now for always, the savagery blazed in me. I twisted my hand in her delicate pants and ripped violently. They shredded. I ripped the torn shreds till there was only the tattered elastic at her waist. I left it because I liked the effect. She sleepily spread her thighs so I could see her cunt fully. The hair was golden, red, Titian, auburn. It formed a rich, but groomed triangle. The hair was abundant, but not a jungle like Gunilla's. Gunilla's was barbaric. Mother's was Grecian. (I noticed how the fine hair revealed the dark flesh underneath.) I toyed with it. She immediately began the slow, sensuous rhythm. I moved my fingers down until they brushed her ass hole. She jumped and began to tremble.
“Oh;” she whispered in a tiny voice. “Yes, yes. Do that. I love it.”
I could hear a note of shyness. “Do what, what, Momma?”
“Just do it. Please don't make me say it.”
“Oh, but you must tell your boy what to do if you want something bad and unnatural, Mom.”
“Yes, I know I have to say it. That you want to force me to say it. You want to hear me tell you to stick your fingers in my ass. Your mommy loves that, Lars. And later she will teach you to put your little boy's cock in her ass. But, please, now darling, put your finger into my ass hole. Mommy loves it. Please, baby.”
I wet my finger in her cunt and oiled the mysterious little crinkled hole. It was pulsing open and shut. I put a finger tip in. Mother gasped. I massaged the opening, gradually slipping my finger in. I could feel a strong, attractively smooth ring of muscle gripping me. I pushed further. My finger suddenly slid past the half inch of muscle tube and entered the insides of her. It was in a space larger and stranger than her cunt. She was getting hysterical with pleasure.
“Oh, that's nice. That's so nice! Stand a little to the side, Lars, so mommy can watch. Oh, yes, I can see now. It's so incredibly obscene! I love it. I've always wanted it to be like this. To give myself up to this wildness completely, beyond decency. God, Lars, you can do anything to me and I feel wonderful. I can watch myself being a whore in the mirror and feel beautiful! Never, never has it been like this.”
I worked my finger out and in, and at the same time slid my thumb in her cunt hole. She began coming again, yelling and twisting. She came repeatedly.. After a while, she subsided. I took off my clothes. When she opened her eyes again and saw my body, she went a little crazy. Then reached for my penis, and began crooning to it while she touched it with extreme delicacy. Her expression was completely wanton now: “See, Lars, your mother is playing with your cock! She is feeling your balls and stroking your cock. And Lars, you know what your mommy wants to do now? She wants to suck you! Think of it, your pure innocent, holy aristocratic, sacred mother wants, needs, desires, begs to suck your cock. May I, Lars? Just a little? I will be so gentle. May Mommy suck her dear little boy's sweet baby cock?”
Her words maddened me: “Yes! Yes! Mother. Suck me. Suck your baby. Suck my cock. Suck me!”
She slid off the bed and knelt in front of me. She brought her cupped hands up and cherished my genitals. She licked everywhere with little cat-licks. She kissed and nibbled and teased. She nuzzled her face into it. “Oh, Lars, how much I love the fresh boyish quality of it. You are the size of a man, but you have the delicacy and cleanness of a baby. It makes me wild to look at it and know it's a child I'm about to suck. That it is my son.” She took me in her mouth with great sweetness, caressing me with her hands at the same time. Her mouth was different entirely from Gunilla's. That was like a deep fleshy sucking, like being consumed by an avid ripe peach. Like the pull of the huge sea. Mother's was more subtle. More articulate. Her tongue and lips were like plush magnolias embracing me, seeking out each nerve and pleading with it. Like a gravity of flowers. And yet it wasn't just beautiful. Looking down at my mother on her knees in front of me with her mouth full of my cock was deeply erotic. I looked at that mouth and thought how it spoke to the king, how it went through the world being seen and respected, and I saw myself fucking into it. The thought combined with the sucking, and I was about to come in her mouth. I tried to pull away. She understood and sucked harder. Then, just before I came, she released me.
“No, Lars, you're right. Not because of coming in my mouth-in case that's the reason you're pulling away. I want that. I want to taste you, to humble myself enough to devour the living liquor of you-to swallow it. That will make me feel absolutely female and sexual and free. And beautiful. I will do that, often. But not this first time. This time I want you to come in me.” She got on the bed, and reached for me. “It's time, my son, for you to fuck your mother.” She was on her back with her knees up. The stockings and garter belt excited me to a frenzy. But I was suddenly a little timid again about actually mounting her. She smiled lovingly and with gentle pulling, led me between her creamy thighs. All of her body was before me and around me like a splendid landscape of flesh. Her eyes yearned up at me, melting with love.
“Now we're going to stick your little boy cock into Mommy's cunt.” She caressingly found me with her hand and put me into her. I felt wetness and warmth and a kind of kissing all around me. I pushed forward shyly. And farther. I looked into her eyes and pushed farther in. Each time her eyes opened wider and shone more. “Now fuck Momma a little, my son. Fuck your little momma.” I began softly fucking in and out. It was indescribably delicious. “Lars,” she said gently, “rub this bone here against my clitoris as you fuck.” She touched the body ridge just above my cock and then moved my body a little with her hands to show how. After I'd fucked like this a little, she put her mouth to my ear with little kisses and started whispering: “Yes, yes, fuck me. Fuck Mommy. Fuck Mommy's juicy cunt with your little boy cock. Does Momma's boy like it? Does Momma's baby like fucking his Momma's pussy? Would you like to suck Momma's tits while you fuck her. Momma would like that.” She was lifting her breasts to me. I looked into her eyes, then leaned down and took the nipples into my mouth one after the other, sucking and kissing and licking and worrying them. She started coming again. I could feel it gathering in her body. Her head began to strain back and her mouth opened. But again, at the last second, she held me lightly on the sides, indicating I should stop. She held me until the passion subsided, looking deep into my eyes. Then she started crooning in my ear again. It seemed to excite her wildly to say “fuck Mommy.” She said it over and over. Again she stopped me when she was about to come. And again she started over, whispering obscenities in my ear. Each time I was closer to coming myself. Finally I was sobbing I wanted it so much.
“Does my baby want to come?” she whispered. “Does my baby want to come in Mommy? Does Baby want to shoot his juice in his unprotected Mommy and give her a new baby? Well, that's what Mommy wants too. Now Mommy's going to let her baby come, and Mommy is going to let her little son make her come, too.”
I was fucking faster and faster. Her voice finally was only a moan, a long series of animal cries. Her mouth was open and I could see it all wet with saliva. I had never kissed her. I leaned down when I felt it coming from everywhere in her and cooed:
“Come, Momma. Come. Little Lars is fucking his Momma and making her come.” Then I kissed her deeply inside her soft lips. Her eyes were a blaze of wantonness as I fucked her harder and harder. Our bodies clamped together, straining, as we both came-like hundreds of cellos exploding!