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And here's the second part!

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Lovesong pt2

By

P

The little folding table had finally been packed away, and he'd gathered up the plastic ware and roll of towels. What his mother had said turned out to be true. The night was getting a lot cooler, and he could see a line of storm clouds moving in from the east, lit internally by the occasional flash of far-off lightning. The trees rustled secretly to themselves as the wind began to pick up, causing the strung up lights to sway in the breeze. He held up the empty wine bottle, regarding it for a second in the dim light before tipping the last few drops over the railing into the river and then stuffing it in a plastic bag with the rest of the trash. All that remained was to unplug the Christmas lights and make his way below.

Foster leaned against the railing for a moment, delaying, turning over what had happened between them in his head. It had all been so sudden, so animalistic...yet tender, and giving. He had to admit the act itself was wonderful, but with his own mother? The inside of his ears blushed red and he rubbed a paw against the bridge of his nose. She had certainly seemed willing, and he never actually said no. He wasn't sure what was in store for him. Maybe she was asleep already? Should he just stay up here tonight?

The wind whispered through the trees again, and he felt a light spatter of rain on his face. It seemed mother nature was tired of his deliberations, and was urging him inside. Sighing, he unplugged the lights and made his way down into the boat.

The cabin was small, being directly under the bow of the the ship. A line of tiny port holes along the top would let in some light during the day, and a single reading lamp plugged in at the back of the cabin gave the only light there was at night. Her mother had taken off her sundress and folded it neatly on one of the shelves, and was kneeling on the bed facing away from him, draping one of her expensive designer scarves over the lamp. His eyes roamed over her nude form, tracing down the lighter orange fur of her backside to her well-rounded bottom and thick tail. A hint of rosewater and sandalwood swirled in the small space. "That's an expensive lampshade." He joked.

She laughed quietly, paws busy tugging the sheer material down over the lamp. The light in the cabin became softer, slightly muted with a tinge of redness. "Best use for it." She said primly. "Not doing me any good out here, that's for sure." She lay back on the bed, lacing her paws together on the slight pudge of her stomach above her pouch,Her breasts sagging a little to either side. She gazed at him in the doorway, head tilted a little. She patted the comforter at her side, eyebrow raised in invitation.

He made as if to join her and she rolled her eyes in mock-seriousness. "You sleep with all those clothes on?"

Her son blushed a little, ears twitching back to hide their redness instinctively. "I guess I don't," he managed, "gimmie a sec."

He flopped back down. "There."

"That underwear looks a little tight, son."

He flopped down again. "Happy?"

She sighed, looking up at the ceiling. She unclasped her paws, reaching out and lacing her paw-pads through his own. "For the first time in a long time." She smiled. "Thank you." They lay together for a little while, paw in paw, in the dim cone of light thrown off by the hooded lamp. Outside the wind gusted occasionally, causing the boat to rock a little bit.

"This all must be a little...sudden," his mother said, "probably weird."

Foster paused, considering his words carefully. "Weird sounds good. Unexpected. As in maybe the last thing I would have expected to happen."

"You know, after awhile I kind of gave up on leaving the apartment altogether" she said. "There didn't seem to be any point in it, really. I'd just lay around-" here she waved her free paw languidly "-just sleeping away the day, lonely, looking out the window at the buildings. Feeling trapped." Her paw returned to resting on her slightly pudgy, aging belly. "But then one day I started looking past the buildings, and that's when I realized that there was a little part of me that wasn't trapped. That there was a part of me under that big sky far out beyond the city, being free."

Foster swallowed, feeling a little choked up. "And that part was me?"

His mother nodded. "I used to sit in the living room right by the big bay windows, surrounded by all this expensive...stuff that wasn't making me happy, and then I'd think about you, and how there was some part of me that all that stuff wasn't going to fill." Here she blushed a little. "I used to think about you when you were a little joey, living in my pouch." She brought the paws they held together to her lips, kissing the back of his.

He nodded solemnly. "I kind of remember that, a little bit. I remember feeling safe and warm." He laughed. "I felt like I was living in the middle of a marshmallow."

She brought the paw she'd kissed to her chest, right below her breasts. She gently turned it, sliding his paw-pads down the mottled orange fur of her belly, until she'd guided his paw into the warmth of her pouch. "It's still warm," she said in a low, quiet voice. "And it's been a long time since you were there." He held his paw there, inside her long-unused pouch for a while, and she placed her paw over his on the outside, content for the moment.

She withdrew his paw from her, and brought it again to her lips. For a moment he thought she was going bestow it with another kiss, but instead she opened her muzzle wide and licked his paw pads, turning her head a little to get her tongue in-between them. The sensation was alien, and he had to admit a little erotic. "That's where you used to live," she half-whispered between licks. She drew his now-dampened paw down her fur again, the time past her pouch, and pressed it between her thighs. "And this is where you came from."

His mother was warm, so warm down there. His eyes widened a little bit in surprise at the press of her womanhood against his dampened palm. He ground the heel of his paw against her Mons, sliding his rough paw pads along her labial lips. Her reaction was instant, wanton; she arced her back, moaning quietly, squeezing his questing paw between her thighs. She placed her small, delicate paw over his own, guiding him. "Here," she breathed into his ear. "Let me help you..."

At her urging, he began to swirl his paw pads along the tender opening he found below, occasionally dragging his thumb along her slit. She cupped his cheek in her other paw, bringing his muzzle to her heaving bosom. He lashed out with his tongue against her sensitive nipple, instinctively suckling at his mother like a joey with his doe. Her body tensed, pressing her head back against the pillows as a flower of pleasure blossomed in her loins. "Oh god," she gasped. "Oh god son that's good...so good...". She pulled his paw up along her labia, pressing his paw pads against her clitoral hood. She rolled her hips against him, breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she orgasmed against his paw. Her knees drifted apart, spreading herself open to him, giving him more access to her sweet petals as he slipped a digit inside of her.

With a grunt he pulled his muzzle from her swaying tit, licking along her mouth needfully. Her tongue met with his and they plunged into a deep, devouring kiss. She trailed her paw along the back of his head, gripping his fur, snouts pluming their heated breath in union against each other. His rubbing became gradually more intense, his exploring pads slipping inside of her more insistently until she surged against him again, shivering with obvious delight as he brought her off with his paw once more. She felt his maleness, hard and ready, brush against her thigh leaving a smudge of sticky precum on her fur. Outside a flash of lightning stuttered, illuminating their heated forms in a strobe light of passion.

She reached between them, gripping her son's engorged cock needfully. "I want this." She moaned. "I need you inside me Foster. Don't you want..." his paw hammering at her now, her breath quick and shallow, "...ohgod...to breed me?"

He pulled his paw from her damp pussy. "Yeah..." he growled. He rolled on top of her, grunting, paws holding his weight as he positioned himself.

There was a second, crystalline and pure, when he paused, gazing down on his mother, spread and ready underneath him. The enormity of what was happening- of what was about to happen-flitted across his lust-addled mind. His cock pressed against her outer lips. Her paws resting lovingly on his shoulders. Her bosom heaving with unquenched desire. He was going to fuck his mother. For a moment, his instinct battled the taboo.

Instinct won. He pressed himself against her, heard her gasp as she gave way before him, his rigid cock piercing the depths of her womanhood. She moaned something, a word made sibilant and meaningless as he sunk himself into the flower of her nethers. His whole body felt electric, sensitive as he buried himself as deep as he could in her. He pushed harder, rocking her hips back, her knees framing his body on either side. He drew back, intoxicated with pleasure, and rocked forward again, filling her up. His mother let out a stifled squeal, paws on his shoulders tensing as she took the full measure of his rigid cock up inside of her. "More." she breathed beneath him. She curled the tip of her tail around his, loving and intimate. "Show your momma what her little joey's got."

He began with a slow, sensual rhythm, his turgid maleness sliding inside of her with every stroke, pushing her heedlessly back against the pillows. Her breasts jiggled in time, aureola describing tight circles as they bounced with his thrusts. He felt her gripping him, her vaginal walls sucking at his invading cock with delicious friction, squeezing and massaging his member, heightening both their pleasure. Mother and son, they both reveled in the base and dirty act, bodies willfully joined. He breathed deep her smell, sandalwood and rosewater now tinged with the scent of her arousal.

"Oh fuck" he moaned, "I can't...believe this..." His thrusts were getting deeper now, more commanding as he fully bred the willing female beneath him. "You're so good, mom."

Her head rocked back on the pillows, her body tensing around him. Her pussy bore down, squeezing almost painfully as she cried out in orgasm. "That's it." she moaned, eyes far off and unfocused. "Make your momma come...and come and come and come baby." Her paws trailed down his flexing forearms,and she looked up at him lovingly, shivering with the aftershock.

The bed beneath them creaked as his pace quickened, the space between them a soup of juices and matted fur. He groaned raggedly, driving himself against her again and again, battering her grasping pussy with his swollen member. A tide of pleasure was rising within him, sweeping his consciousness away. His whole being became focused on the pleasure in his loins,animal ecstasy obliterating rational thought. He remembered grabbing her wrists, pinning them on either side of her head, pushing her down deep into the pillows even as she hooked her ankles around him, urging him on breathlessly.

"Don't hold back baby." she groaned, head rolling from side to side, "...ohgod...give it to me..."

"Yeah," he growled, muzzle dipping down, eyes squeezed shut as he slammed recklessly into her, seeking his own release. "Oh fuck yeah..." his tail began to thrash, muscles tensing. Lightning strobed outside again, as if the storm were highlighting the very crescendo of their act. He bucked against her, groaning through gritted teeth as he buried himself in her for a final time, feeling the electric pulse of pleasure as he spurted his seed into his mother.

She rocked her hips against him, pulling him tight inside of her with her crossed ankles as the sensation of being bred by her son sent her tumbling over the edge into another orgasm. She arced under him, pressing herself greedily up against her son as her body accepted his seed. They gasped in unison as a fresh pulse jetted from his buried cock, coating her insides with his warm spunk.

They remained like that, intertwined and locked together, for some time. Foster slowly opened his eyes, looking up hesitantly at his mother's visage framed by her paws pinned to the pillow with his weight. They were both out of breath from the exertion of lovemaking, and she shivered around him occasionally, her body riding the wave of pleasure from another aftershock. He let go of her wrists and nuzzled against her bosom. She relaxed subtly against him, training her paws through his head fur and along the back of his neck as he lay panting against her in the afterglow. Finally, after some time, he rolled off of her with a grunt, flopping back into the pillows at her side.

They lay side by side for a while, listing to the rain pitter-pattering against the deck above their heads. Sighing contentedly, she reached across him and snapped the reading light off, plunging the cabin into semi-darkness. The lightning seemed to have moved off, with only the occasional flash illuminating their spent forms. She nuzzled against her son in the darkness, both of them drifting off. "That was amazing, baby." she whispered.

It was a dream that the young 'roo hadn't had in years. A half-remembered fragment of a memory of visiting relatives out in the country, of seeing the farms and cows as huge compared to himself, then a small joey only a few feet tall. Of the big pasture leading to the woods, the bright blue summer sky giving way to gloomy darkness as his mother lead him away from the grass and wheat and braying farm animals. There was a gazebo there, almost reclaimed by the forest, falling down and covered with moss and ivy. He was crying. One of the cows had stepped on his foot when he was trying to feed it. It was a small scrape that would turn into a little bruise, but to such a small joey everything was big.

In the dream she lead him inside where the light was even gloomier and the air had a coppery, earthen smell, the ivy and weeds crowding the space in competition for the weak light. His mother hushed him, trying to calm his hysterical crying. "It's ok, baby. You'll be alright." she reassured his trembling form. "Let momma see."

"Why it's just a little scrape!" she exclaimed. "It's nothing to be worried about." She dabbed at his watery eyes with her dress. "Here, momma will make it all better." And in that moment, she did something that she'd never done before, putting her paw Somewhere Else. In the dream he cringed, confused. She shushed him, a little smile on her face, not taking her paw away from where it was, but instead wrapping it around him and gently urging him forward. He whined, squirming, embarrassed and not understanding why the little pink part of himself he only saw when he peed made it's way out of his sheath, urged on by his mother's rubbing.

In his dream he felt what he felt then,a small bubble of pleasure wrapped in confusion. What was she trying to do? Whatever it was, it was working. He'd forgotten about his scrape, and all the crying he was doing a moment ago was engulfed in the warmth of an unfamiliar sensation, building and building within him as her paws moved more and more firmly...

...Foster swam back into consciousness, confused as to where he was or how he'd gotten there. For a moment he was disoriented as the pleasure he'd dreamed followed him into the waking world. A gray predawn light bathed the small cabin in shadows, and in the hazy semi-darkness something was pressing down on top of him, rocking feverishly against his still-nude body.

This is all yours, baby. His mother whispered heatedly into his ear, her muzzle pressed against his cheek. Somehow, impossibly, he was hard as a rock again, buried deep within her. She flexed her knees, impaling herself over and over on his shameless cock. You can have this any. Time. You. Want. She placed her paws oh his chest, bracing herself and giving herself leverage as she rolled her hips against him, needfully driving his maleness into her.

His mother was a moving, bucking shadow above him, her weight on his hips pushing him down with every stroke. She rode her son desperately in the darkness, quenching her long-denied desires on his willing flesh. His paws settled on her rolling thighs as he began to buck up into her, trying to meet her strokes with his own. She squealed at the delicious sensation of her son's cock in her. Yes. She breathed. Just like that.

She reared back, balancing on her thick tail as she began to bounce in earnest on top of him. He pulled his knees up a little, pushing himself deeper into her. She trailed her paws down her thighs, resting them on top of his as she sought support for her trembling frame. The pleasure was intense for the young roo, and he became dimly aware that his cock and balls were now soaking wet from his mother's free-flowing juices as she bounced atop him. His spent but still eager member ached dully as she ground against him, and the pleasure of their sex teased him on with the promise of bliss. In the grayish darkness they became nothing more than their parts; a rocky spire battered by a surging endless sea. The small space was thick with animal sounds, of flesh against flesh and fur against fur, punctuated with his mother's breathless exaltation against the backdrop of the sqik-sqik-sqik of the tortured bed-springs.

She arrived, gasping. Her cradle clutched at him, pulsing as her body was wracked with pleasure. In the throes of her joy she collapsed against him, pressing her quivering breasts against his chest. He could feel the weight, the realness of her against him. Feel her thready, quick heartbeat against his own as she gave her all to him, letting him invade her deepest desire with his rigid length, bring her to the heights of womanhood as she pressed her fur against his own. She called his name over and over as her body jerked against his, promising her willingness to please him in breathy, gasping words as she shivered atop him.

It should have been enough; the pressure, the squeezing of her pussy against his cock, the ragged whisper of dirty promises in his ear, but it wasn't.

His own body yearned for release, to somehow push through the dull ache in his loins and bury his seed in his mother's flower yet again. She had already begun to slow against him, her rapid breathing evening out. His growling thrust caught her by surprise, her amber eyes fluttering open inches from his blue ones. She grins. More? She whispers in the dark. Does my joey want more?

He nods, unseen in the darkness. His flexing paws settle on his mother's waist, gripping her and pressing her now limp form down against him needfully. She gasps at the pressure increases between them. Holding her tight, almost immobile, the desperate roo begins to thrust himself up into her. Knees flexing, tail thrashing, Foster pushes her down against him in heated urgency, any pretense of gentleness swept away. His mother nuzzles against him, riding the rising pleasure from her son's assault, worn but still urging him on. Pressed together in the darkness, the young roo slams mercilessly into his mother over and over, release drawing closer and closer.

She braces herself against him, placing her paws against his chest and pushing. She arches against him, breasts swaying, body rocking with his powerful thrusts. Her tongue lolls, eyes half lidded with pleasure. Oh. Oh baby. She rasps. Give your momma all. Everything baby...yes yes yes...

Foster's head is turned to the side, eyes squeezed shut. The angle is awkward, but the finish line is so close. He grits his teeth, nostrils flaring. He moans in pleasure, frustration.

Yes baby that's it

Slamming, breath ragged in the dark, fur damp with sweat.

Oh mommas getting close

Tendons straining, turgid cock pressed deep within her with every stroke.

Show me oh show me what you've got show momma you love her

This is it. A long, shaky moan. A burst within her, paws gripping, knees straining, breath ragged and uneven. A supernova of aching pleasure as his body gives up what seed is left for the third time that night, filling his mother again with his spunk. She shivers around him, grabbing one last swell of pleasure from the frantic climax as her son finishes inside of her. For a moment they both hold at the apex, shivering...

She nuzzles against his throat, heated breath fanning against his cheek as they both finally fall limp, the deed done. He stays inside her for a while, both of them lost in the afterglow. His gripping paws relax, and he draws them up to the small of her back, hugging his mother to him.

They stayed like that, hiding away in the small cabin, pressed together as the gray light slowly began to brighten the day. What was done was done, for better or worse. There was no way to fix the past. There was no way to guess the future. No one even dared to ask what came next. For now, they just Were.

The end.