SONNYMOON CRUISE free porn video

I gave him birth, I shared his berth

by Oediplex 8==3~



She left him at the altar, she altered him. I gave him life at birth, I saved his life, and then shared his berth. It was supposed to be their honeymoon cruise. It turned into my sonny-moon cruise. It is our story, of our voyage; on the high seas, and our discovery of a new world, the land of incest.

I don't expect you to believe this. I hardly do myself. But this is the tale of what happened, and how what was a near tragedy, became a break-through to a new understanding between myself, and my dear son, Samuel.

The hall had been rented months in advance, and we were there with the rabbi, waiting for the bride. I had footed the bill for everything. My husband left me very wealthy, but what good is money, if you can't provide for your loved ones? Sam's older sister, Janice, had an even more elaborate blow-out. This was nothing to thumb your nose at either. But since it was not quite the costly ticket for the ceremony and reception, as with Jan's, I splurged on the tickets for their honeymoon cruise. You only get married for the first time once, right?

Of course, right. So next time Jan gets married, (she found the schmuck cheating on her - even within the first year), it won't be such a big shindig. At least not on Mama's money!! Anyway, there we all were, the bride's limo pulls up. Out gets the Maid of Honor, but no Madeline, Bride-to-be. And Betsy, isn't wearing a gown as she gets out of the car and comes slowly down the aisle. Not a good sign. The Maid of Honor goes up to Sammy. He asks, “Where's Maddy? What's going on?” Betsy hands him an envelope of purple, pink and green, Maddy's personal stationery. All her notes to me about the service and reception, were on it, so I recognized it. I had a bad feeling.

Sure enough Samuel takes out a sheet of note paper, same colors, I can't read what is on it, but her lavender pen has scrawled some hand writing on it. The engagement ring drops to the floor out of the envelope, and Sam takes out the note. SHIT! That girl was the love of his life. He reads the note, silently to himself.

He looks at me, then at Jan, then at Daddy in the sky, though I am sure that if he is a ghost, Jacob's sitting next to me. Samuel looks to the crowd and says in the softest voice (if the place wasn't dead silent, I doubt he would have been heard), says Sam, “The wedding is off.” Then his eyes roll up, and he drops to the floor, like the ring did. Fainted dead away. He lived, but when he came to, he was in shock.

Dr. Schwartzenburger, our long time family physician, (of course he was there – everybody was) had somebody fetch his medical bag from his Mercedes and gave poor Sammy a shot. A sedative, then wrote a prescription for a few pills of a lesser dose. Jan volunteered to run to the pharmacy, but I sent one of the ushers instead. The Best Man, and another of Sam's friends, helped him into our waiting limo. I needed Jan with me, when we brought her brother home.

We got him to bed, with a couple stiff scotches, since the pills were not there yet. He went to sleep. I started making a bunch of phone calls, Madeline wouldn't answer, but I got hold of everybody else I could think of, to handle the crisis. I sat with Jan in the kitchen. Jan spoke, “Ma, what now? What is Sammy going to do? He ought to go somewhere else for a while, this neighborhood would be too painful.”

See, Maddy was almost the girl next door, in our suburban community on Long island. Samuel and she had grown up together. What Jan meant was that there would be too many painful memories, being here in this place. He ought not go back to his new condo in New Jersey alone, but what's to do?

I snapped my fingers, having made a snap decision. Not for nothing, had I run my husband's company after he had had his massive stroke and left me with everything to do or to sell. I had built up the business even bigger, since Jacob passed to the big deli in the sky – or where ever they had the best lox. I was used to making executive decisions, nu? So, I did. I made one more phone call to my trusted travel agent, a cousin, and told her what to do. I didn't need a confirmation call back. She had been at the wedding, make that disaster. Titanic, need I say more?

I said to Jan, “He will be elsewhere, he'll be out of the country.”

“Mama, Where are you sending him? Should I go along, and keep him from doing himself harm?”

“You think it's that bad?” She nodded, I thought maybe so too, but I had another arrangement. “He's going on that cruise.”

“Okay, I like the Caribbean, I'll pack.”

“No, Sweetheart, you don't have to, I'm going! I paid for the trip, and can't get my money back at this late date. But I will go with Sammy. Besides getting my money's worth, I haven't been to Jamaica, or the Bahamas, or anywhere down there but Miami, when I go to see your Aunt Sadie.” (That's Jake's sister, we are very close.) “You've been all around that whole area three times. My turn.”

“Right, Samuel goes on his honeymoon with his mother!”

“He should go with his single sister? It won't be his honeymoon, it will be a relaxing vacation. He doesn't have to hang around me, just as long as he doesn't mope in the cabin. I'll make sure he has a good time, if it kills him!” How prophetic those words were, in a way.


So we did. How did Sammy deal with it? Well, the trip was two days after the wedding. He would have had to make a huge argument with both his big sister and his pushy mother. I didn't raise any stupid kids, they might be mashuganah, but not dumb. It was easier just to allow us to steer him into steerage. Not third-class really, we had a tip-top first-class cabin suite. I don't skimp, when it comes to my babies' happiness. Jacob always said, “Money can't buy happiness, but it can make the way clear for it to arrive.”

Besides Sam was so doped up on tranquilizers from those pills, he didn't know we were going to port until we arrived at the dock in Florida. Maybe he thought I was taking him to Disney World. I had always promised, but never quite got the chance. All three of us flew down. Then Janice went to visit with Sadie, and Samuel and I, we boarded the newest ship in the fleet. Boy! was it large, something for everyone. We found our room, and there was champagne and roses waiting, like I had ordered months ago.

He didn't even know I was his cabin-mate, until the lifeboat drill alarm sounded.

“Mama, isn't it time for you to get off the boat?” Something was registering finally, the double pills that morning were wearing off.

“Sweetie, that ship has sailed! I'm your berth-mate! Welcome aboard a two week cruise, all around the Caribbean. Let's get to the the deck for the drill, in case we have to be stranded on a desert island.”

He looked at me, and then around the cabin, but before he could say anything more, the steward knocked on the door. He asked we get to Deck C, lifeboat twenty-two, as quick as possible, please. So we did, and got the life vests on, and all that stuff done with. Then I took him to the stern, found a cocktail lounge, and poured scotch in him until he was ready to crash. Reality could wait until morning.


There was just one hitch to our accommodations. I mean it was a beautiful suite, lovely little balcony, nice furnishings, first class alright, who could complain? Just, it was for a honeymoon couple, it had a queen size bed, one. Not one you could split either like some of the cheaper rooms. And they were booked to the gills. Unless one of us wanted to bunk with the crew. So we change in the bathroom, and the bed was plenty big. What could happen – what, my son would molest his own mother?

So Sammy woke up next me the second day of the cruise. I told my boy the facts of life, so to speak. I explained that I had talked to the head steward, but he could do nothing about the situation but bring in a folding cot. I mean, the place was spacious, for a ship, but the cot was not kosher, as far as my money was concerned. If we shared a bed, it would be like old times, when we roughed it in the Catskills, at that motel one night when there were car problems. Two beds, and Jacob slept on the floor. Samuel was ten and Janice was a big sixteen, and I was my dainty self, so it made sense, right?

So we would not be much in each other's way, all things considered. Sam was still depressed, I had run out of tranqs for him to pop. He wasn't that much of a boozer, so he moped, just as I feared. The second evening, I heard him crying, after he thought I had gone to sleep. But I'm a light sleeper, and I could tell that he needed comforting. I was right there. I held him in my arms, and he cuddled right to me. Just like when he was eight, and his puppy had gotten run over in the street, in front of our house. Jacob had carried the pooch's body into our home, and Sammy came upstairs and broke down.

His heart was broken now, that was for pity sure. Mama held her big boy, weeping his eyes out, until he fell asleep, finally. The next day, I had us signed up for a sightseeing tour. He didn't want to go, but I have my means. I threatened to tell some pretty single girl that he was on the rebound, and have her after him. Of course, I didn't know anyone who would fit the bill, but he decided that me getting my way, was better than some stray gal getting in his way, so he went. We did have a good time, but when we got back to the boat, “Mr. Moper” returned to his sullen ways. I did get him to see the comedian's act at the lounge that night, but Sam never laughed once. And I tell you, the guy was FUNNY!!

So we settled in for the night, changed in the washroom, and I took the inside of the bed, he the outer half.

In the early morning, I awoke and Samuel was gone. His side was warm, so I knew it hadn't been very long since he got up. Call it mother's intuition. I looked, and the bathroom light was dark, the door open, I didn't hear a sound. I turned around, not out on the balcony. I got up, not even putting a robe on, just hurried out to the deck, closest to our cabin.

There was no time to think, as I saw my son putting a foot up on a storage box, next to the railing. He was gripping the bar, and about to hoist himself up. There was nothing between him and the water, fifty feet down. The ship was under full steam, full speed ahead to the next island. I just reacted. I raced over to Sammy, grabbed his shirt, and yanked back with all my strength. I caught him off balance, and he floundered back; then staggered backwards more, trying to get his balance. He finally slammed into the wall far from the side of the ship, and safe from being a man overboard, which he almost was.

I was filled with rage and fear. I took two big steps right up to him, and slapped his face so hard I left red welts on his cheek. I screamed at him, the words I had commanded the little boy with, so many times in the past. “Samuel Moishe Covey! Get to your room this instant! Move!!” Like he was a child again, he held his cheek, nodded and scurried back to our cabin. I was right behind him. I locked the door. I turned, the fright and the anger still flooding my emotions. I yelled, “How dare you!? How dare you take the life I gave you, and throw it away. Over some girl, the whole rest of your life, gone . . .” the realization hit me then, and everything melted in myself to a puddle of grief, as if it had actually happened.

I burst into tears, and managed to say through great sobs, “Sammy, how could you leave me here? Alone, with you overboard and dead? Don't you think that would kill me? How could I live, knowing I brought you here, and you took your own life? I wouldn't be able to take it . . . Oh! God, Sammy, my baby, I love you so much, to lose you now . . . Doonn't die, sweetheart, mama promises she will make everything . . .” I was struck with the realization that I couldn't fix this problem, it was way beyond a dead puppy. It was a wreck, and I felt so bad for him, so sad for my dearest baby. I was overcome with more tears and sobs, and dropped in near hysterics on to the floor.

I wasn't trying to guilt him. I wasn't faking my grief. I was washed out of wrath, and reduced to a weeping woman, weak and sorrowing. I felt his arms raise me, and help me to bed.

He was saying, “I'm so sorry mom, I wasn't thinking, but you don't understand. Please, don't cry, I'm not worth it, you don't know what I . . . I won't, I promise I won't try do anything like that again. I just was filled with . . . I couldn't take it any longer, You don't realize what I . . . It's okay now mother, it's all over with, I won't leave you, I won't ever hurt you. I love you so much . . . I . . . I . . .” We had reached the bed, and I was stretched across it width-wise; Samuel crawled up beside me, and began to bawl, like when his dad had died. It was the deepest, and most agonizing pain of loss, that tore out the soul of a person.

Then, it was my turn to come round, and comfort him. I just cooed, and made little hush sounds, and kept repeating, “It's okay, it's okay, mommy's here, it's alright, your going to be okay” saying those kinds of things over and over again. We held each other in a mutual embrace, and drifted back to sleep. The boat rocked, and the engines were a soft distant thrumming, and even the sun was dimmed by clouds, to let Morpheus spread his mantle of forgetfulness, if only for a little while.


When I awoke, we were still in each other's arms. Nature has her cycles, and this was a male's time of hormones rising. By rising, I mean my son had risen, but just one part, his penis. I wasn't shocked, I was married to Jacob for seventeen years. I knew a morning stiffy, when it poked me. Nothing personal, Sam was still asleep. But it was a nice way to wake a man. I thought about it, and decided, well, why not? He was supposed to be on his honeymoon, right. A little wank on his woodie, wouldn't hurt, even if it came from his mother, making him cum. Perhaps it would release the tension he was under. Worth a try.

I fingered the erect member through his shorts. His shirt was half ripped off, and his handsome hairy chest was showing. The tight belly of a youthful man was beautiful to see. I was in my nightgown, that was half up my legs, from having slid getting onto the sheets. Even if it was my son, I derived some erotic feedback from what I was doing. I had almost lost him for good, now I was determined to make his trip as good as it should be, but not if it killed him. If he wanted to mope the whole trip, stay in the room, so let him. But he was responding to this stimulation, and I was sure I could find ways to rouse his spirits, as well.

Suddenly, Samuel murmured, “Mom!” and rolled toward me. His leg dropped between my thighs, I lost hold of his dick, but now it was rampant on the crease of where my leg joined hip, and it was humping. Within seconds, I felt it pulse, and a small wet spot seeped though the clothing to my skin. At that moment he opened his eyes, and I knew he had just come awake, as he came. His eyes, and his whole face showed that he thought he had done it on his own, and was horrified, thinking that I would be outraged. He began to apologize, and was humiliated with himself.

I had to nip that bad thing in the bud. “Please for give me, Sammy, I just wanted to make you feel good, in some way. I thought that perhaps a release . . . please forgive me sweetheart! PLEASE!” I pleaded. I could see that gave him pause.

“You mean . . . that I . . . that you . . . I wasn't . . . you were . . .”

“I was massaging you, down there, and I made you cum. And I'm sorry, but I thought that it would help. Did it?”

“Yyeess, and noo, that's the problem. That's what I meant, when I said you didn't understand. Why I was so depressed. You don't know what I'm going through.”

“Darling, I have lost a husband, and been racked with grief of all kinds, there is little I wouldn't understand. Try me. Communicate, don't keep it bottled up inside. There isn't anything that you can't tell me.”

“Mom, . .” He opened his mouth but nothing came out, he tried to start again, and failed. The third time he said, “Mom, do you think you can love two people, at the same time?” He held up his hand to signal there was more. “I don't mean like you love me and Jan, at the same time, not that, I mean – have passion for two persons at once, desire both, though you can only have one. Should only have one, that is.”

“Of course, you can. I can, I mean, I understand. Did Madeline have an affair, did she fall for some other guy, and that's why she left you?”

“No. God! this is so hard, especially after . . . listen, it was me.”

“You had an affair?”

“No, I didn't, but I have been in love with . . this woman my whole life.”

Now I was confused. “You're whole life? But you haven't known anyone your whole life but . . .” A horrible thought suddenly hit me, “You don't mean . . your sister! Not Jan – I don't believe it! You have a thing for Jan? Samuel, she wouldn't, I mean, that's ridiculous.”

“I agree, it's not her.”

“Who then?”

“I slept with her.”

“When??”

“Last night.”

“Is that why . . . you . . . how did she get aboard the ship? Did you make reservations, on your honeymoon! You were going to cheat with another woman, on your honeymoon? It's like some bad plot in a soap opera, incredible!”

“She made the arrangements after Maddy dumped me. I slept with her the other nights too. Mom, don't you get it, it's you! I'm in love with you.”

“Sweetheart, I know you love me, but . . .”

“Here, mom, read Maddy's letter.” He went, and pulled a wrinkled piece of stationery out of his suitcase. It was purple, pink and green, with lavender script. He gave me the note. I read, it went:

“Dearest Samuel,
You know I shall always love you. I have since we were in sixth grade. But I realize now, that I can never compete with the other woman in your life. I know she is unaware, but that is between you and your mother. When you make love to me, and call to her when you cum; I feel that I am a third party to the sex. It's not fair to me, and though it breaks my heart to break off our relationship, you know that ultimately, it is for the best. Perhaps you'll find a woman that doesn't mind being a substitute for your mother, but I am not that girl. Goodbye, I will not see you for a long time. Please don't try to find me. If we ever meet again, know that I don't hold anything against you or her. But I won't be her, for you.
Love always, Maddy”

I was stunned. I wasn't sure of the whole meaning, I was still trying to wrap my mind around it. But I started to get a hold of it, when I recalled that Sam had called “mom” when he came this morning, before he was awake. I looked back at the note. “ When you make love to me, and call to her, when you cum” . . . more . . . “ that is between you and your mother” . . . “I know she is unaware” . . . “find a woman that doesn't mind being a substitute for your mother” . . . “can never compete with the other woman in your life”.

I looked at Sammy, and remember his words. “do you think you can love two people at the same time?” . . . “I have been in love with this woman my whole life.” . . . “I slept with her.” . . . “I slept with her the other nights too.” “Mom, don't you get it, it's you! I'm in love with you.” . . . “mom!” and he had cum.

Sam could see the understanding, and yet bewilderment spread over my features, like sunlight creeping over the morning horizon. “Mom,” he said softly, “Do you see what it means, that here I am, on my honeymoon – what was going to be my honeymoon – with the woman I have loved all my life, and lusted after since I had pubic hair begin to sprout, and got Bar Mitzvahed. I've lost my childhood sweetheart, who I was going to marry, and now I'm on a cruise for nuptial sex, with the one woman I can't have.”

“Not including Jan,” he added, “because if Jan was horny enough, she'd have let me pity-fuck her. She told me, but she always can find an outlet. So that was never an issue. That's beside the point. That's why I was so in the dumps. I'm glad you saved me, I was just so crazy with the irony, and frustration, and grief, and lust. Sleeping with you! God, my dream come true, but not. But then this morning you bring me off! I am totally flummoxed. Flabbergasted. But I guess it's best out in the open, finally. I mean, just between the two of us. Though I think Janice has her suspicions, that I have an Oedipus Complex.”

I thought hard for a moment, there had been something earlier, I was half a mind to confess. Oh! Yes! “Dear, do you remember a little while ago, you asked me, if you, or someone, or . . if I could love two people at once?”

“Yes, You see what I meant.”

“ I do. And I did, love two persons at once. I . . . cheated on your father. I had an affair for a year, with someone you don't know. I had met him, and we had coffee, and – well the details are not important.”

“Did dad know?”

“He knew I was somehow troubled, and a bit more distant, sometimes. But I loved him too, and that love was still strong, even though the other love had . . it's own passion. Eventually, my other man move to California, then we said farewell. And your father and I lived . . happily until he died. 'Till death do us part. I was married to Jacob. I think he never strayed. But I can relate to something of what you are experiencing. And I do love you, but the sex thing . .”

“I know, can never happen.”

“No – I mean, I don't know. I did bring you off this morning, I wasn't aroused . . no actually the truth is, I was slightly. But I never thought about it, with you. About having feelings that way, with you. About you having feelings, that way for me. It never ever occurred to me. It's, kind of complimentary, if strange also. Since you were twelve, eh? Huh!”

“Mom, see, I save up for the honeymoon. I . . that is Maddy and I abstained for the past month, to have lots of passion for our wedding night, and for the trip. I even didn't masturbate for the past week. That's one of the reasons I was so, so ready to cum this morning. But the other was sleeping with you, and this morning, when you were stroking me, I was dreaming of you. And . . . I'm still horny, could you . . do that again while I'm awake to enjoy it? If it wasn't something that grossed you out, maybe you wouldn't mind.”

Even the asking, without getting an answer yet, was making him hard again, I could see him rising under his boxers. I felt strange, like there was . . . what was that term they used way back in my college psych class? . . . oh yeah – disassociation. I was floating on a sea, somewhere in a different universe. All the normal laws of physics, and morality, were shifted - or turned over, or cockeyed. Cock-eyed. I wanted to see what I was going to be playing with. “Take off your shirt, take your pants off, get naked. Let me see how my boy has grown into a man!”

Sammy was swift to obey. He looked at me. My tits were easily discernible through the thin fabric. The hem had hiked up to my thighs. I decided to give him some visual aids. I began to strip, and he helped. Moments later, we were both nude on the broad mattress. His manhood stood upright, and my delta was definitely damp. I reached out and began to fiddle with my son's flute. I could see the cock eye, with a drop of pre-cum dew. My nipples were little dark red berries. They wanted in on the action.

Without being told, without permission, without any objections either; Samuel reached out and gently began to pinch the points, in a very tender way. They yearned even more. But I was not going to let this go too far. I was his mother, and these were extraordinary circumstances. He had almost killed himself, if I hadn't come in time, if he were missed too late . . . I didn't want to go there. Just be in the moment, I told myself. Just allow this little thing to happen. It happened before, earlier this morning, now it was again. But we were undressed, and both awake and . . . and God! that felt good on my tits, no one else - besides myself - had twiddled with them for years!

I could tell that Sam was getting near his orgasm. His hips thrust, and he was making funny faces. I must have looked just as silly, because my face was scrunched up too. Then again, as with the first time, Sam rolled on to me. But this time he was between my my legs, they spread and his prick rubbed up and down on my abdomen. His lips went to my breasts and sucked the caps completely in. I felt him release the hot goo on my tummy, and the moment was so wild and erotic, I had a little climax too. Then he rolled off, and we spent a moment, after spending, to catch our breath. The tropical heat made the sweat pour off our bodies.

Time for a shower, before lunch, we had missed the launch to the island, there would be another in the afternoon. We were moored at this piece of paradise for another day, before moving on. I was glad I didn't have to change the bed, or wash the sheets. I looked over at Sam, “Mr. Moper” was nowhere to be seen. “Will you come to the island with me, after we eat?”

“Cum with you, eat you, anything you want, mom. I'm up for it!”

“No, you're not.” I took his limp lump, and wiggled the fat circumcised worm. But if your willing to take a tour this afternoon, perhaps you might get a tour - of a more special sort this evening . . . after the Broadway review show, which I want to see, tonight at eight. This is my holiday too, and I am going to enjoy the sites, and the shows. But good boys get their rewards, okay?”

“Yes, mother.” I hit him with a pillow, then ran, to get to the bathroom first. But not before another pillow hit my butt, and I laughed. This was going to be even more fun, than I thought it would. But I had to set limits, we couldn't simply give into his lust. What I was more concerned with, were my abilities to keep myself within my own boundaries, without the line creeping further into the land of incest.

On an ocean, there are no demarcations of territory. It is all too easy to cross the equator, and not know you were now in a different hemisphere. If you were at sea about your feelings and emotions, it was the same. How do you know, if you have crossed the line? Was there a moral compass, a sexual sextant to tell you where you were headed, and if you were in uncharted waters, then what? Perhaps we were already? But yet this voyage of discovery had just begun. It was a brave nude world.


Our tour started at an old fort. Overhead was a beautiful rainbow. The Lord said it was a sign, of His covenant with Noah. Our arc was our our coupling this morning. It might have been mild incest. It was between two adults. We were over the terrible flood, the danger of drowning, the waters of tears were receding. That was the arch, the arc that bridged heaven and earth, the crossing of the cleansing deluge of emotions. Now we were on a boat, a ship that was the ark that carried love. When would the dove return? Where would we land? The old fortifications were crumbled, the defenses were ancient history, as were ours too. We knew now, each other's secrets.

The beautiful landscape was flowers, and hummingbirds, and sandy beaches. It was paradise, when would our nakedness be discovered, and we, cast out? There was another twelve days to go. The world was made in half that time. How long does it take to destroy creation? Why, every time now that Sam looked at me, did I get a tingle in my pussy? Fruit at the market, like the proverbial apple. Temptation was like those little lizards, skittering everywhere, not serpents, more sneaky, more numerous. I knew where the snake hid. I knew the hole it wanted to slither down (or up was perhaps more descriptive). Am I Eve? Want a nibble on my apples? My son had, and it was good!

“There is nothing like a dame!” “I'm just a girl who cain't say no.” ETC “Some enchanted evening.”
Who knew that so many loves songs were on the program. Was this the “Love Boat”, like that old TV show? Evidently, this trip had set a new record for newlyweds on one cruise. There would be a drawing for a prize, for all the love-birds later in the week. I was sure we qualified.

We ordered some wine when we got back, and sat on the little balcony and looked at the stars. The breeze was like a caress, the wine - a kiss, the stars like . . stars. I ain't that silly, metaphors had been going through my head all day, thinking about what had transpired this morning. From near tragedy, to soap opera, to a love scene. Quite remarkable series of events. The day had been a fine one, the evening delightful; my son a gentleman, and a rogue in plain sight! Now, the naughty side of Sammy whispered an outrageous proposition in my ear. No, not that. We had privacy on the balcony presently, the lights were off, other folks to each side were not in, or had gone to bed. I thought his suggestion over. I nodded, it was too tempting this night, and who knew if we would have another chance to do it, for the rest of the trip.

I stood up and dropped my robe and slipped my gown over my head. All Sam had to do is lift his hips briefly, and the swim trunks he had on, were off. Then we sat down again. Like Eve and Adam, before they were in trouble, we enjoyed the delicious sensation of being naked in paradise. Now the stars winked, the wind was our lover. The kisses were lips to lips, as we held hands, and smooched occasionally. Nothing was said about what would happen, when we went to bed. I was too afraid to bring it up. Sam was thinking about it, as his dick was at full mast.

Finally, a huge yawn signaled to me I was very tired. We gathered up our clothes. Should we put on something? Or not? Sam climbed into the inner side of the pad, and lay face down, sleepy eyed and drowsy. I knew the signs well. So I lay down, without a gown. He rolled toward me, and we hugged and kissed for a minute. Then I fell deep asleep. Sam told me, in the AM, that he had too. And there was evening, and morning was the fifth day.


The sun was in my eyes, next I knew. It was morning. We were naked. In bed. I stretched, and looked at the attractive male body next to me. Was this my son? Yes. Had we done something naughty yesterday? Yes, and I had saved his life. Maybe the little necking had been a part of the reclamation of his soul. A freeing of his spirit, a liberation. Freedom found, in telling the truth.

Truth be told, I was a little horny this morning. Sam was stirring laying on his side, facing me, but his stiffy was not evident. But I knew how to deal with that, but – should I? He rolled on to his back, his penis lolled. I reached over and took hold of it, always a sucker for a fat dick. In fact, now that I had that thought . . ., so I bent down and opened wide.

Just a little I told myself. The soft flesh was like a huge wad of bubble gum in my mouth. But of course, I didn't chew. I did that thing you do with a tootsie-pop, to make the sucker last as long as possible, and get all the flavor. This tasted slightly salty, like the sea air last night, but nice. Soon it was getting meatier. I felt Sammy's hands run gently through my hair. So sonny was awake!

“Mom, that is so good!” he whispered. Now I was making some bobbing, to added inches to my engulfing. He was getting quite long indeed. It looked different from up close. I scooped the fuzzy sacks, in my free hand and played with the two eggs, therein. I decided I wanted to see it cream. It had been a long long time since I had gotten to witness an eruption of male virility. I lifted my mouth off, and used my hand to do 'the barber-pole'. You know, where the stripe twists, going up the phallic symbol. I added some saliva as needed, but by keeping my touch very light, the motion was delicate, the skin slick enough to not cause any discomfort.

I gently squeezed the testicles in a rhythmic way, the softest of pressure. I said in a little breathy voice, “Cum for mommy, Sammy, let mommy see your spurt. You're allowed, cum for mama, let all your jism flow out. Cum for mom, that's it my little man. Show your stuff, cum for ma . .” and then he did. I watch in fascination as the first shot popped a good six inches in the air and landed in my coif, shampoo! Then, another ooze of white milky semen dripped down over my fingers. Like some kind of ice cream melting, and dripping from a cone in the heat. Yes, this pepperoni was hot, but it too melted, as the climax waned the wand.

But what fun! Then his hand nudged me back to lay flat, and I felt a hand glide down my tummy. More fun to cum for mom! I was just enjoying the play, not thinking, only letting the happiness have its morning romp. The fingers were combing through the fur, rubbing the mound, seeking the slit. 'Yes, there!' went my brain, as I raised my pelvis to give the digits the angle they needed, to make my clit protrude. My thighs widened, I was in need of a good cum. My son, was going to make sure I got it.

He obviously was no novice, when it came to making a woman cum, with his hands. The fingers stroked through the folds of femininity, and parted the labia for the well of my womanhood. He dipped and dragged the moisture along the parting and used it to wet the bulb of my clitoris. He sent two strong fingers probing into my cavity, and finding the G-spot easily. His mouth once more suckled on my breasts, the nipples were turgid in his lips. I just settled on my backside and let my boy do all the work. After all, it was my vacation too, I should be able to lie back and drift with the tides of touch that washed over my body.

But soon enough the surf was rolling in, the waves of wanton lust were crashing into the breakwaters, the jetty of inhibitions was no match for the storm of the climax, that swirled in my body. Eroded with desire for relief, my motherhood was submerged beneath the tsunami of my orgasm, that carried all cares away. My call was piercing, as my torso arched up when the peak of passion hit. I gripped Sam's hair and held fast, as if I was drowning, and I was in the ecstasy of physical contractions, and spasms of primal paroxysms. His head began to move lower. I knew exactly where he was headed, 'to go down to the she in sips'. I pulled, and cried out, “No – NO! Not that, I don't need it, I couldn't take it, I wouldn't be able to stand any more. That's plenty, that's more than enough, for this morning.”

God! If he had done that, I would have been totally lost. He could have done anything. Taken me, any way he wanted, and I would have begged for it, again and again. I had to stop him, stop it, stop us, before that happened. He had his heart broken once already, this week. No need to get him any deeper into the mess of this tangled triangle of psychological trials and tribulations, over a mommy complex. No need to get him into mama any deeper. Neither his six (seven?) inch prick that far, nor his mother any further in trouble with her conscience either. That was enough for the moment. We both had had our fun, now it was time to go, and enjoy ourselves in more tame ways. Lest we hit an iceberg, we were in the tropics, but there were dangers in the wetness where we played.

While Sam was in the shower, I insisted he go first, I phone the booking steward and made some arrangements for the next day, it cost some extra for . . call it bacqshish, but where there's a buck you can usually get your way. I hummed 'Here comes the bribe' under my breath as we switched off, for the powder room. I took care of the usual business, and dressed in the simple skirt and blouse I had carried in with me. Today was marketing in the AM, and gambling at a casino in the PM, back on the ship was a magic show for the evening. I bought a nice straw bag and matching hat for our day trips. Samuel got a wood carving of a porpoise, and a wicked looking knife, for a letter opener, he said. But I knew my boy, the blade just looked too cool for him to resist.

Of course there was gambling on the ship most of the time, but it was interesting to see how gaudy and kitsch the casino was. The drinks were free. We won $20 between the two of us, in the three hours we were there. The place was quite slow, almost deserted, We had any slot machine we wanted, but I like the blackjack table, and Sam tried the roulette wheel too. As luck would have it, we were up $120, and Sam said I should place a hundred on whatever I wanted, he was feeling lucky. I put all five chips on red, won, let it ride, and lost. So we quit while we were ahead.

Sammy leaned over to me and whispered, “I got lucky this morning, but I didn't want to quit until you got 'head'.” I guffawed very loud, the croupier looked at us and smiled. He couldn't have overheard, but he knew a risque remark when he heard that kind of raunchy laugh from a lady. I tipped him the twenty, so we were even, coming out the door.

The magician was nothing special until the blow-off, the last trick of his performance. He invited a young couple up, a bride and the groom, dressed for dancing later, she in a lovely gown and he in a tux. The Great Zolotraxan, as he titled himself, placed a scarf around the fellow's eyes, so he couldn't see. Then he place the gal in a cabinet, and latched it securely. His pretty assistant turned the box once, and when the door was opened the girl was in her slip, the gown gone. The door was closed, “Oh we have to return that clothing, what would your husband say?” The spouse is standing by the side of the stage still blind-folded.

Turn of the box again, and now she is just in her underwear, she squeaks, and covers. “Honey,” hubby calls, “Is everything alright?” Zolotraxan quickly shuts the door and and says, “That will never do!” the box turns the third time, the door opens, and there is the husband, dressed only in heart covered boxers, he yells and runs off stage. I never saw him disappear, and where did the bride go? The Great Zolotraxan addressed the crowd. “Well, when they get back to their room, at least they will be ready for the next session of their honeymoon!” says the master of the magic wand. Big laugh from the audience. Of course the couple were shills, and the audience were several drinks happy by the end of the show. But it was a cute stunt, I had to admit.

Meanwhile my own master of a “magic wand” was looking to get back to our cabin for tricks of a different sort. However, I had a slightly different agenda in mind, because of the plans I had made for the following day. When we returned, I gave him the rules of the evening. “Samuel, you must play by these rules, or you will spoil my surprise.” He nodded, but had a hard time keeping a straight face. “I mean it! You can look me all over, touch me only to examine me, like turn me over, spread my legs, lift my breasts. But no sexual fooling around. Play doctor, with mommy. But no poking, kissing, rubbing, no licking or sucking, fingering, and especially no fucking. Promise me!”

He raised his hand in a solemn vow, and nodded. He got the point, I was very serious. I took off my clothes and hung them up, save the undies which went into the laundry bag. After a quick shower, I dried off, and powdered up. Then, I lay on the bed, on my back, without a stitch on. Sam divested his clothing as well, and knelt beside me. I could see that he was erect, but that was going to have to wait for about twenty-two hours. He began with my arms, he held them, and studied their form, like he was a sculptor. He looked at my pits, poked his nose there, and took a whiff. “Lavender talc, like you always use,” he commented. “I remember that smell, ever since I was a toddler.” What can I tell you, tradition?

Then he spent long minutes with each breast, I felt like he was looking for lumps. Or maybe buying melons? The nipples were viewed close up, I though he ought to get a magnifying glass, if he wanted more detail. I can't imagine what navel gazing did for him, with my pipik button, but he found some kind of connection evidently. I mean, there was an umbilical one originally, right? Then he went for the toes. No foot fetish though, just a careful look. I had a pedicure a couple weeks back, so they were not too bad. They could have used a bit of polish, the sandals were making it tough to maintain the lacquer.

He rolled me over and had me spread my legs, then he opened my cheeks. I doubt that he was memorizing the shape of my asshole. I hope not! But I think that he was gaging the angle for penetration, if he was going to do the doggie-position, or possibly during a back-rub, to enter my vagina. Jacob always love doing that, so did my lover, way back when. I think it's because I have small buttocks, my tush is tiny for a woman my age. But then I'm short too, thank God I have stayed thin. Grandma was a roly-poly Pole. I dodged that genetic bullet. “DAMN IT, Samuel, that tickles!” Fiddling with the back of my knees, he should know better, at his age!

He rolls me on my back again, spreads my knees. I maybe could use stirrups? Maybe he will want a flashlight, is there a bear in the cave, or is it just a bare cave? He is leafing through the labia, despite myself my clit swells, and I lubricate. But this is strictly clinical tonight, tomorrow is play-time, a surprise for you too . . . wait and see, or . . read. I got an excellent examination of his genitalia the other day, when I had him squirt. The rest, not so interesting. After all, for most women it's more what's in the head and heart, than shapely calves. Still, a great set of buns is fine beefcake to contemplate, right ladies?

Finally, he was done. I raised my arms, and we hugged. His peter was poking, but I wasn't offering any refuge to the beggar at the door. He would have to stay hungry for another day. I got him on his tummy and rubbed his back. Soon he was softly snoring. Then I drifted off, and dreamed I was a young girl, running along a sandy strand, chased by a dozen boys. They were all naked as Adam, I wore a gossamer diaphanous flowing long dress that billowed with the warm sea breeze. I never let them catch up, but never got too far ahead. I knew how to keep their interest. They followed the scent from between my thighs, which wafted on the zephyr. One young man led the pack. I turned to see his face. It was Sammy.


We needed to get going early for our day's adventure. I ordered room service as soon as I awoke, nothing elaborate, in fact, the fruit we could take with us. We were on our third day at the second Island, the bus was waiting to take us to a special spot. I let my eyes sparkle with amusement, as Sam tried to guess where we were headed. When a sign said 'Dolphin Bay', it was a give away. Being in the water with those animals was a thrill I will never forget, nor regret the extra it cost to bump another couple to the submarine ride.

Maybe not nice, but they were promised another chance at a later port. Dolphin skin is tough, but so smooth, muscles hard but supple too. Much like a mammoth penis in a way, when you think about it, and of course, they are always slick with wetness. They have a sense of humor, and personalities. They are fast, but will come right up to you, once you have been properly introduced. That was a highlight, for both of us on our trip. At least, of the tours we had. There were other highlights, but we will cum to them, later on in this narrative.

When we got back to the ship mid-afternoon, I was starved. We got oversize sandwiches from the snack-bar. Then, we had our picture taken for the souvenir shot, they sell at the end of the cruise. There wasn't a line yet, like there would be later. Janice had clued me in on that trick. Samuel and I played shuffle board with an elderly couple, on their 'third honeymoon'. I mean shuffle board is required at least once, right? Tradition! Then we did a little gambling, lost $50 between us. Keep away from the 'devil's wheel'! I told Sam, as he was the big loser of the day, I only dropped $15 at the slots. Then dinner was nice, with a regular group of folks at our table, we had grouper, or some big fish cooked 'Island style', which meant pineapple and spices. But tasty.

We decided against the vaudeville show. We had seen plenty in the Catskills back in the day. Instead, we opted for catching the early show of a little romantic comedy film, recently out, that neither of us had seen. Then it was time for my surprise to be sprung. I hustled us back to the cabin and told Sam to change into his swim trunks, a tee shirt and flip-flops. (If you get them on the wrong feet are they flop-flips?) I had a similar outfit. I had reserved one of the private hot-tub rooms. They were hard to get, there was a waiting list. Lots of honeymooners, of course. But I knew the booking guy had a family that could use . . . let's just say, they were going to be a few car payments ahead of their regular income. Nobody got bumped this time, just a room was allowed to be used past regular closing time.

I had specified the temperature being about the same as the shallows at the beach. Nowadays, the chemicals are not so harsh, and the water was very nice. The jets were easy to control, I put some on but not all. I had Samuel make sure the door was locked. I turned the lights as low as they would go. Then I stripped. Sam followed suit, un-suiting himself. Not a word was said, as we got in the pool. He was rigid! I wasn't going to let him fuck me, but when we were done, that pole wouldn't be a problem for a while. I mean, I was his mother, and while we had been doing some rather unorthodox activities together, I couldn't allow that to happen. I hoped I could keep that promise to myself. I'm sure that 'OediSamson' had strong feelings, in the opposite camp.

But I was in charge, so far at least. “Tonight, in this tub,” I said to Sammy, “which is a tidal pool for our purposes, or maybe porpoises. And we are not people at the moment, but dolphins. You must close your eyes and find you way around by sound, using echo location. If you find another dolphin, you may frolic with her, but she might not be in heat, you'll just have to discover what she will allow. Do you understand?”

“Eee . . Eee . . Eee” squeaked Sammy, in a poor imitations of the dolphin's call we had heard this morning, His eyes were closed at least.

“Eeee . . Eee . . yourself!” I said and closed my eyes. With my head close to the water, I could hear my son splashing as he sought me. No doubt with mating on his mind, and other parts of his anatomy. I held still, then moved away, as he, not so quietly, sought me. But it was a small pool, and eventually he found me. I went, “Eeeee . . ooo . .eee!” as his hands – flippers - floundered around my torso, and between my legs. I swam away, but he was listening closer now, and followed. I could feel his ventral protrusion, like a rude rudder. My female center was heating the water. We circled, and did a kind of grappling, grasping exploration, eyes still closed.

Occasionally it got awkward, as aiming is visual for humans, but soon enough, we got the hang of finding our way around each other, by touch. He got to move his flippers all over my mammeries, and down where he was only allowed to peer at, last night. I handled his stick, and ran my fingers all over his hind end, and through his chest hairs. What a sensual exhilaration to use only tactile, rather than visual means, to explore another persons body. In water, it was sliding and slippery and smooth, and the muscles were defined in a different way, even that special one that stuck out from his loins. I kept playing the coy female, squirming away, before any overt, or even covert, connection was made.

Finally, I took pity on the poor frustrated fella. I made know my instructions, by guiding him to the place I wanted him to sit. Then I sat on his lap, my back to his chest, my bottom on his boner. I took his hands, and brought them to my tits. He immediately began to caress them. I worked my backside, so that his dick was being masturbated by my ass. The divide of the cheeks nestled that male muscle, and I very carefully made sure that the 'sweet-spot' was never in range of the tip of the spear. I thought sure I could bring him off that way. His lips were at my neck, and my voice was a high pitched “Eeeee . . Eeeee . .Eeeee . . Eeee – Eeek!” The diver had found the underwater cave after all!

I popped up, but immediately turned around and sat down again, facing him. “Don't fuck me,” I whispered as I ground my mons on his man-meat. “But I do want you to cum on mommy's tummy.” He responded with back and forth sawing, on my lower abdomen. It was more dangerous, but I had more control of the situation, at least an early warning system. The other way, I realized if he had found the angle, he would have been up where only his father, and one other man, had been in the last twenty years. And I would have had no defense, perhaps even allowed . . . how did Auntie Mame put it? Allowed him “to do what little boy fishies do, to little girl fishies.” What would that coupling spawn? More incest that would be certain, with that channel marked with his buoy, I would be a long gone gull!

But now I was going to get off this way too, as the head of that pike pushed against my clit and raked along my labia. I sensed it getting lower and lower, but the strokes were longer and longer. It felt soo goood, it had been soo loong. His cock was so hard and long, and just exactly in the right groove. I grabbed him with my arms around his back, my boobs were mashed against his chest. My head was next to his, I whispered moans of encouragement in his ear. His hips were pushing on the built-in molded bench. It was getting too . . oh my God! It touched the hollow! It dipped into the cavity of my sex, a fraction. I froze. I clamped him, to try to stop any more motion. NO! Oh Please! Not . . we can't . . My brain was racing with wild thoughts, I remembered my dream. Sammy leading the pack, my gown was suddenly gone, and I ran down the beach naked now, and Sammy was gaining on me.

He caught me. I could feel the tip was wiggling in the worm hole, the snake was nosing into the . . temptation, scampered past like a quick little lizard, and disappeared into the bush . . I could sense the bulb press open the mouth of my sex . . Oh! Yes I wanted it, I wanted him . . I admitted it . . I can't help myself . . my boy . . almost died . . in, going in, just right there, almost in into me . . what is he waiting for? . . I gave him birth . . life . . now he is returning . . to the womb . . the tip is, is pulsing at the soft spot, the place I need him, the . . Oh God! my clit is . . I'm cumming! . . come on Samuel come into mommy, and cum in mommy! He's cumming . . just at the . . outside . . almost in, not quite . . half the tip . . The only muscles moving for either of us are the involuntary ones, that are spasming with our orgasms . . the climax is so good . . but not what I had in mind. Not what I had planned earlier, not what I craved at the peak of our intimacy.

I am filled with relief, but a sense of loss, as well, for what might have been. The rational is mixed with the emotional, and they won't meld, they just swirl. Like the water that flows around us, washing the fluids of lust away, and reminding us we are in an artificial environment, and our circumstances are not natural. Neither are our desires, nor the the reserve we have shown, (Samuel has shown, I was a rutting slut at the last). Neither of those two forces are what would be the usual happening. We would have mated, or never been attracted. But we did and didn't, are and yet keep apart. What truly odd creatures are humans. That was a close one. But I feel all the closer to Sammy, for the almost, the being right there at the entrance to his mother's core. And closer to him for his strength, to have not gone inside, not loved me the way we wanted to. I don't know where we go from here, except back to the cabin. We dress and walk back in silence.

I order a bottle of that nice wine we had the other evening. We sit on the balcony. In our swim suits, which are dry. The stars stare back. No breeze to cool tonight. I finally let out a long sigh, and look at the man who is my son, who would be happy to be my lover. I smile, and say one word. Ever so softly my voice uttered it, “damn”.

“Damn”, comes his echo.


That night we sleep naked in each other's arms. Not with any erotic ideas, but sensing that we both need the physical closeness, that brings us comfort of mutual love and tenderness. I wake, but Samuel is not in bead, immediately he calls from the balcony, “I'm here, mom, everything is fine, we are underway. There's a big storm headed to the south of that island, and we are going north. The captain decided to switch our agenda around to have good weather for the week. They have a running announcement at the bottom of the TV screen, on all the channels.” We not only get satellite, beamed in, but the boat has its own series of programs. How to gamble, what tours you can book, fish you might see, shells you might find, etc. But who has time for TV on a cruise?

“So, sweetheart, what do you want to do today?” I ask, no tours ashore, when we are underway.

“Well, I looked at the 'what to do aboard the ship if you're bored' channel, and picked some things for us to try. There's bowling, bike riding, tennis, we did shuffle board, scuba lessons in the bow pool at eleven, and a diving pool at the stern, skeet shooting off port side at one, and golf practice on starboard at three. The rock climbing wall is open all day today, but you need to make reservations.”

“Sam, I hate bowling, bike riding is okay, but on a track I'd be bored by the third circuit. Tennis is not my cup of tea, remember my weak ankle. We did shuffle board, I am not going scuba diving, or any kind of diving, except night clubs, those are my kind of dives. I don't shoot, guns scare me; and I don't golf, except putt-putt. Rock climbing, are you out of your gourd? You can try, not little old me!”

“Well, I think rock climbing might be interesting, but I was hoping to do something with you.” He pauses, the rat! “Of course there is ballroom dance practice at ten AM, the sun will be out by one, they think, and the bow pool has a complimentary drink served after two. We could lounge and get wet every once in a while, to keep cool. Work on getting that nice tan, that says, 'I was on vacation in the Caribbean!'”

“You scamp! Why did you go through all the rest of that crap to begin with. Is that the way I raised you?”

“Why, yes mother, I learned from the best, yourself!”

“That's my boy! What time is it, now?”

“Half past eight: we can dress for the ballroom, informal skirts for gals and shirts for men. Sneakers and sandals discouraged. Leather twirls better. After breakfast, promenade around the decks for a little, then head to the dance floor on deck D. After a light lunch, change and go sunning and swimming, until dinner, or an nap, whatever comes first. After dinner, there is a choice of a play, a comedy, or the musical stylings of a troupe of folk singers and musicians from the area.”

“Sounds like a plan!” and that's what we did. When it came to changing though, I no longer bothered with the bathroom. Sam had seen every inch of skin, no reason to be falsely modest now. But that was not going to be common practice when we got back home, when he came to visit. Especially, if Jan was around! Dancing with Samuel was wonderful, and quite romantic. People acted like we were a couple, even though there was clearly an age difference. So maybe it was a Decem . . uh, September-May romance. What did they know, we had the same last name, I was Mrs. Covey – it could happen, right? He was light on his feet, and never on mine (maybe that's why no sandals?), and led firmly just like I taught him, when he was in seventh grade.

After the play, (Sam was laughing so hard, it made up for the comedian) we went back to the cabin and ordered our new favorite wine again and just sat and – watched TV. But we channel surfed. I made Sammy watch a twenty minute lesson on roulette, then he vowed to give it up and try chuck-a-luck, go figure! The wine came, we got naked and went out to the balcony. The neighbors were not in evidently, I guess they like the nightlife, maybe they were at the casino area on board. The weather was sweet, the ocean had swells, we were feeling swell and like sweethearts. It was a great day. The night was about to get very good too, it turned out.

After a while I felt like stretching out, I wasn't sleepy, but just wanted to relax on the bed. Sam followed in a couple of minutes. He got next to me and whispered something naughty in my ear. I grinned and nodded. That was an activity that I would be very happy to have happen. That was a diving I hadn't thought of, muff diving. I spread my legs, and angled my knees wide. My muff was his for the diving. My pussy was ready to be eaten, late night snack buff-et. Cunnilingus here we cum! His tongue was as nimble as his feet, but I hadn't taught him this way to treat a lady. He certainly knew how to give a lady a treat! His lips made my nether lips smile, his attention to my clit was masterful. Just when I thought I was done, he would switch to a different area, and make me grab the covers building to yet another orgasm.

I loved when he would kiss my thighs, then lick them. I never knew I could be so sensual there. He made long laps on the outside of my pussy, then stuck the squirmy-pink-thing as deep as it would go in my cunt, and wildly wiggle. He strummed and hummed the pleasure bud of my most sensitive flesh, until the clit seem to vibrate on its own. Sammy used his breath to both warm and cool the damp folds, the alternating temperatures contrasts making for a unique turn-on.

Every once in a while he would rise and pay attention to my nipples. They appreciated not being left out of the fun. Most of the raunchy recess was devoted to making my crotch a playground for his mouth. My entire womanhood was a romper-room for my child's face. He had somehow shaved before this happy-meal, I wasn't sure when, but the smooth cheeks left no beard-burn. All I had to to was keep from smothering him, when my orgasms made my legs clutch in involuntary clamping.

I climbed to climax after climax. I was exhausted by the time his face gave out and he could no longer lick, lap, suck or hold his neck in position. God, he even used his nose on my nubbin! I hauled him up to me, with what little strength left, and kissed him profusely, Frenching and letting his rod nudge my pudenda. He tasted of me, but it was good; it was messy, but I didn't mind. It was to be expected, after he had made a fabulous effort to make his mama go floating to cloud nine. But it had been a long day, and before anything else happened, before we knew it, we were both asleep. It might have been because of all that sun, it more likely had been all because of my son.


The ship's horn blasted me awake. I was half-asleep. Great, I thought, we've hit an iceberg. I hope they have enough lifeboats. Where are the life vests? Then I realized, it was daylight, you don't hit icebergs in daylight, they only come out at night. I certainly came last night! I cranked my head, and saw mountains in the distance. Was that one of those floating islands? We were at sea, can you hit floating islands in the day? I then came fully awake with the next blast of the horn, we were coming into the new port. A sister ship was passing us on our side. Were we port or starboard? Starboard, we saw lots of stars. No, wine, we had the wine side of the boat. Port was a wine, but we had found a better one to imbibe. My hair was a mess. And my hair-do too. The delta was a sticky sodden mess, and my coif, a rat's-nest. Better to just wash and rinse. What the hell, we were on vacation, right? I was on my son's honeymoon, and the poor guy hadn't gotten laid yet!

Should I fix that? Actually, that was something I could fix, if I wanted to. Dead puppies, no; broken engagements, no: live pussy, yes, - mend his heart, yes, - save his life, YES! Give him birth, give him life; share his berth, share myself - - that was the question wasn't it. The horn sounded yet again, like God blowing his nose. Samuel slept the sleep of the just – just plain exhausted. He had really given it his all, last night. I never had that it like that from Jacob, or my lover. But my son had made me see stars last night. Cum an ocean of orgasms. Tasted my wine, and made me drunk from climaxing so much. And yet he had not taken me, or even tried to, he had respected me, even when I was at my most vulnerable.

I was proud of him. I felt sorry for him too. And for me. I asked myself, what did I have of virtue, that was so valuable to hold back. I wouldn't do it for wealth, I'd spend it. I wasn't married, he wasn't married. What was the difference between what we had already done, and doing it, except degree. There wasn't going to be any need for birth control. Nobody was going to know. Why not, we both wanted to – yes I wanted to. Samuel had wanted to, for years. Now, I had warmed to the idea for a few days, and I wanted to too!

I admitted it, to myself, I admitted it. But it had to be special, it couldn't be by accident. I mean, it almost had been, but it shouldn't be. It should be by mutual consent, and a special occasion, like the first time you do it with a lover. He was my lover, really, now you have to say he was, after all we had been through. It should be like the first time you . . . you do it on your wedding night! This was my . . sonny-moon! I was Samuel's, not consolation prize, rather his surprise.

“Mom, don't you get it, it's you! I'm in love with you.” Only, now I got it. The only question now was, could I actually go through with it? And it's corollary, when, how, where? Well, okay there were a few questions, but the main one was could I, would I, should I? If I