My Son's Baby

How would I feel about all of that?

"I'd hate the bitch..."

Carlos didn't say anything. He just touched his hand to my cheek, caressed me, and leaned forward and kissed me. I submitted to it with equal desire, and pulled his hands to my dress, directing him to start unbuttoning and undressing me. With the smacking of our lips and fervent movement of our fingers, the two of us were stripped within seconds, and he lifted me into his arms without breaking our kiss.

He carried me to the bed...our bed.

For the first time, Carlos and I took our time. For the first time, we explored each other. For the first time, I wasn't simply "servicing" him as payment or a quick fix.

We made love. Long, slow, tender love.

We both decided, without sharing any actual words, that we were willing to risk going without protection again. Just this once. We wanted this time to feel real. No plans. No careful calculations. We wanted our feelings and emotions to guide us, to learn how natural our love was, and how normal we felt together.

I took him in my mouth for over ten minutes, hungrily and gleefully sucking his long, rigid cock. He hovered over me, knelt in our bed, hands on his hips as he let me pleasure him with my tongue and lips like it was my pussy. A couple of times, he groaned as if he was going to cum, but didn't, and he instructed me to turn around, put my head in the pillow, and point my round rear at him.

He buried his nose in the crack of my ass and began licking and sucking my pussy, paying me back in full for what I'd given him. The difference was that I came within seconds of him starting, and again several times after that. He was as good at pleasing me with his mouth as he was with his dick. The way he reveled in me, even down to the smell of my pussy, excited me beyond words for description.

Rather than take me from behind, we both wanted our first "real" time to be facing each other, in the position that men and women had used since the dawn of time. I welcomed him between my legs yet again, and he slid in my pussy with ease and enthusiasm. We'd done this so many times already, and our bodies just knew what to do.

While he fucked me, Carlos and I locked our hands together and kissed. He licked my neck and I nibbled his ears. His tongue played with my nipples, and I whispered his name. The air was thick between us, and his body felt heavier on top of me than ever. Even our sweat seemed to mix together much more fluidly and naturally, as if we were really becoming one.

Carlos and I made love for hours that night, only taking brief pauses to cuddle in the afterglow after he came inside me, until we finally found the energy to go again. By this point, it was clear where this was going.

It was more than clear what we'd decided.

"So then," he said, holding me against his chest after we'd finally gotten tired enough to try and get some sleep. "I want us to have another baby."

I chuckled, nestling my soaked, messy hair on his chest.. "I knew you would say that."

"You don't want to?"

"You know that the last baby almost wrecked our lives, right?"

"You don't want to?"

"It's not that I don't want to, honey..." that last word just slipped out, but shockingly, it felt so natural. "In fact, God help me, I want to... But we talked about the risks before, didn't we...?"

"You're right," he acknowledged. "But...I don't want our only child to be the result of an 'accident'. I want to make a real family. The right way. With you."

My hips squirmed. My pussy apparently found those words quite appealing. I found myself smiling, too. Like the first time, the fact that my son wanted to accept his position as the father to my children was intoxicating. Nothing I could say in opposition would have been honest. I wanted it, too. Now, I had finally accepted that Carlos was my man. My second great love. Perhaps my first true love.

I wanted to bear his children. I wanted to share a home, share responsibility, and share a life. The old motherly desire to see him leave my nest and fly on his own, had been replaced by a desire to build a new nest together. Maybe I was high on emotion and the afterglow of being so well-fucked, but the feeling was intense.

I decided I'd sleep on it. For a night or two, while we explored these new feelings. The next day found us sharing meaningful glances and smiles, both of us excited about where this would lead.

We went to work and separated ourselves from each other for a time, but we never left each other's thoughts. I found myself staring at the clock for my entire shift, making sloppy mistakes that I was just thankful nobody noticed and were easily correctable. But it was incredulous-here I was, a middle-aged, professional woman, and I was gushing and daydreaming like a schoolgirl. Unable to think about anything except the man which I'd be going back home to in a few hours and the child we made together.

I stopped by a phone dealer on my lunch break got myself a new one, and texted my new "husband". We texted each other the rest of the day like dumb little kids. The messages started out rather sweet and loving, before quickly devolving into candid and explicit descriptions of what we would be doing to each other once we got home. Who was going to touch what, who was going to lick what, and who was going to stick what into where.

I'll just let you use your imagination on those items.

On the way home, I picked up our boy from the sitter's and stepped onto the metro with the stroller. I couldn't help but smile...just seeing our baby, the son Carlos and I had made. He was such a powerful reminder of where our lives were about to lead. I held a hand to my belly, now flat for over a year. My memory recalled the feeling of its swollen size, the feeling of life growing inside me...put there by my beloved son. A lot had been going on back then, so I didn't get to enjoy it much at the time...

But now, maybe...

When we got home, we slammed into each other like a collision and retired to the bedroom immediately. The night was filled with the knocking of our bedpost against the hard plaster wall, the wet slurps of my son's cock penetrating me over and over, and my endless screams of ecstasy. I knew the neighbors could probably hear, but I didn't care. This wouldn't be the first time, and hell, some of them probably enjoyed having an audible porno living next door.

We were at it for so long that I didn't even remember that I'd skipped both lunch and dinner until we stopped to check on the baby. As I stumbled out of bed and into my robe, I could barely walk and every step I managed was accompanied by the sloshing sounds of my son's thick pools of cum squelching inside my pussy.

The next few days were like this, as were the next few weeks. The best part about making love-aside from the fact that I could even call what I did with my son 'making love'-was the way Carlos now looked into my eyes, taking his time as he ground his hips into me, and thrust deeper and deeper. He studied the pleasure in my eyes, and responded to my needs instantly. If I was close to a climax, he'd speed up and start thrusting faster, sometimes nibbling my ear or sucking my toes to really throw me over the edge.

I would throw my arms around my son's back, surrendering myself to his desires, begging him to fuck me harder. We'd strain our bed to its limit, the springs and mattress groaning to keep up with the urgency of our love-making. My legs clamped themselves around my son's hips as he got close to his own climax. I wanted to keep him close and inside me. I wanted to feel his body shudder right at the moment that he exploded in my pussy.

When he finally got off, erupted hot ropes of sperm into me...into his mother's cunt...his pelvis convulsed, and I moved my hands over the tight muscles of his ass, as his entire body worked in concerted effort to fill me with his mating seed.

We were weeks into this routine before either of us even brought up the fact we were still going strong without contraception. Every single night, my son and I had fucked until he absolutely deluged my fertile womb with enough fertile baby batter to fill an entire swimming pool.

Neither of us cared.

Without realizing it, we were already fully committed. We were a couple. A nuclear family. Married in all but name. Through the day, I called him "my love" and "darling" and "sweetheart", and every night I begged him to fill my pussy and give me our next child.

Joke was on us, though.

When we confirmed that I was pregnant, I was already six weeks along. That meant Carlos had impregnated me almost immediately in our renewed relationship - maybe even that very first night we confessed our love. I was actually happy. It was more fun to realize that he'd knocked me up again so soon, purely as a consequence of our insatiable love for each other, rather than out of the effort to breed.

I made up my mind that, from then on, I'd never use birth control again.

Carlos and I would love each other every night, and just let what happened happened.

Carlos enrolled in Graduate school to earn more money to support our family, and I had to give my bosses a guilty shrug when I told them I was expecting again, even though I'd told them I was done making babies. They didn't fire me, though, and around the same time I'd finally won from my wrongful termination case.

Suddenly, after years of barely being able to afford the clothes on our backs, our famine had turned into a feast. We took that money and ran from that dinky apartment into the perfect home for our new lives. We even managed to find a county that could "marry" us and let us live as husband and wife, without asking too many questions.

Since then, we've been through nine years of partnership, in addition to several more children. Carlos continued his education, gaining his Master's shortly after the birth of our second child, and just recently received his Ph. D in History.

Eventually, his brothers did find out about us and what had happened. While stunned at first, they later realized that my newest children weren't simply their "half-siblings", but also their nephews...and thus, full blood relatives. Over time, they actually seemed in awe that their brother had, in summation, taken their own mother as his lover and then knocked me up with so many children. They may have also been a little jealous too, but that could have just been my imagination.

Either way, it was too bad. They should have made their move when they had the chance.