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Hi Uma. Hope you cooled off.

Ran into Donnie and Cynthia. Invited them to stay the night with me.

Will be fun. Like a sleepover.

Talk again soon.

Uma read Kianna's text messages, angrily scanning her phone screen. There was nothing that woman wasn't doing to piss her off.

“Bitch already found my number." And she sure feels comfortable usurping my children.

Her hand tightened around the device, her grip flowing with energy. She snarled. The screen cracked — a vicious split ran through the glass, scarring it irreparably. Then, with significant force, she hurled it across the room. It hit the wall and exploded, shattering into a multitude of pieces and casting its debris far and wide, soiling the new floor with its finer shards and creating unsightly clumps of electronic scrap. She huffed, taking time to comprehend her outburst. “Shit! That was a good phone."

Easy, easy...learn to control yourself.

She started performing some breathing exercises, ones found online after the heated engagement with Kianna. She felt they would help calm the beast within — that awakened sense of lust and envy and wrath that stained her soul in exchange for power, and relief. Sweet relief. Despite the anger, Uma was feeling better than she'd ever been. For so many years she had been ground down by a host of towering threats. Marriage. Money. Crime. Her children...so many worries. And she could make them disappear with less than a thought. Her soul glowed, wreathed in hellish flames, and she ended the day at peace with the world — until Kianna decided to message her.

“Grrr! Ruined a perfectly good evening with her...her—ugh!" Uma struggled to find the right word, and her breathing returned to its natural pace. Any hope of calm was lost. Things are great! I don't want anyone or anything to ruin it now.

Kianna? I could throttle her right now! Keep your night with my kids, next time I won't leave them to be plucked from my presence like a poorly-guarded nest.

Next time — I will end you!

Harsh words. Words Kianna never heard. A part of her was disappointed that was true, and yet, she didn't want to start something drastic. That could wait. Let me have this moment, she begged, alone to rant. In the comfort of my living room.

Alone...

Her gaze fell upon the nearest window, where the day's light was fast fading. Two — no three — hours since someone darkened her door. She was alone.

It's almost night-time. Where is Jacob!? He was supposed to come home!

Her rage rose from deep within, still to be vanquished. It bubbled in its cauldron, hissing, spilling over the edge, poisoning her other emotions. Anger turned to yearning, and yearning to need. “That's more like it," she smiled, drowning her impotent fury in warm, inviting lust. Yes...I want to feel good...not bad...good...

Uma's body shivered. The room wasn't cold, but her skin felt an icy sensation nonetheless. It was an absence of touch. Not her own — another's. She brushed her goose-bumped skin, tickling her errant nerves. She hadn't paid attention to her body since attempting to force Kianna to heel, her time had been occupied with mindless Internet browsing as she sat, stuck in a rut of dismal feeling, after their confrontation. Now her mind surrendered to raw sensation, and the rut disappeared. She at last could enjoy something!

If only Jacob were here. If he could see me, perfected, there would be no resistance. He would fill me like he bravely did all those weeks ago! She turned, her body relaxing on the sofa. Her lips quivered. “J-Jacob," she murmured in-between sharp moans. Her desire burned hot and bright. Surely he'd feel her beacon blazing in the mist? He ought to have the same ability to sense the light of a loved one from afar. He should see me. He should come home. Come home sweetie...mommy needs you.

The first plunge inside of a loose digit broke her trance. Uma's eyes flew wide open, her heart fluttering as a wave of pleasure emerged from between her legs. Pleasure so enthralling that it demanded she find more, and fast. She wanted to feed her inner demon, with sin fresh as a hunter's morning kill.

I want to feel desired.

Time seemed to slip away from her. The colours outside dripped from the world as pitch-black subsumed it. Orange street-lights lit the path outside. Hours passed; maybe longer. Midnight sounded good. Midnight, a time for the darkest of deeds to be done.

* * *

The door opened. Just a crack. Enough to peer inside.

Silence. With nary a sound but the low hush of breathing.

Waiting for Jacob is out of the question, her mind scolded, you'll find all you need under your roof tonight.

Uma entered. Discarding her robe, she walked into the centre of the bedroom. The robe tumbled to the ground, her secrecy preserved.

Her body bare, she crossed the room, coming to a stop at the foot of the bed. The lack of light kept her shrouded in darkness. Only the curves of her round flesh shone through streaks of moonlight. Thin lines of white and grey outlined her murky form. She looked outside, through the window, and saw a number of lit buildings in the distance, far across the land. Their new hometown. A place to start better than before. She smiled. A place to claim as mine.

Michael slept soundly, with an occasional change of position. Uma breathed. Her heart raced. She practically salivated at the prospect of bedding her own flesh and blood — she was no stranger to it after all. But now she went in with a clear head. Jumping Jacob's bones in the throes of painful revelation was her first taste of true sin, now she felt her soul hunger. Michael, she thought, Mikey...my son...your brother has his qualities, but you've got something more. Softness. A noble heart begging to be corrupted...

She bent over, her soft curves shifting, brushing against each other as her limbs held themselves close with minute movements angling her body forward. Uma's bosom dangled freely, her generous cleavage swaying as her hands grabbed the end of the bed. She stroked one of her calves with her foot, feeling a great need for her son. The matriarch of the Eriksson household demanded pleasure. And when she wanted something, she got it.

“Mikey?" she whispered, her low voice failing to wake him. She was unsure of what to do next. Uma wanted to love him as she had Jacob, but how to do it while ensuring he would love her back that way? Her mind battled with this conundrum. Meanwhile, her body continued its approach, on autopilot as her instincts spurred her on. She climbed onto the bed — kneeling at the very end — carefully avoiding lying on top of her son's feet. Uma's thoughts returned from their leave of absence and brought her a measure of control over her rapidly-growing lust. Forget plans. Forget schemes. She would show him what she was capable of, and he shall give in. Why am I overthinking this? her sinful side remarked, let fate be my guide.

Fate intended to see her mate.

Not arguing with the course of events that led her to perching nakedly upon her son's mattress, she moved again — this time coming close to the bed surface. Her arms extended, running along the comfortable material; its touch tickled her. Gradually, she shimmied her legs side-to-side, squirming in-place as she pushed forward the covers. The heavy sheet made some noise, not enough to disturb her sleeping prince. Uma had lifted the end up, staring at Michael's unconscious face, up until she was totally obscured by the covers, and dived underneath.

Sneaking, she crawled forward at a steady pace. Her naked body made contact with Michael's dormant figure. Perfect breasts draped over his legs, then waist, then chest as she travelled his length. Legs rubbed against his. Uma's hips saddled his torso, Michael's amorous mother taking great pleasure in the long, drawn-out approach.

She was now above him, touching him. Her pussy kissed his lower belly as she rose, sitting upright. The whole bedspread warped with her presence, tearing its warmth from her son. Uma threw the sheets over her head, clasping them like a cloak around her neck. A precious discovery occurred the moment she revealed his whole body, having not noticed it earlier: her son slept nude.

She bit her lip. Wonderful.

A wetness spread from her nethers. Time was ticking away. Time she'd prefer to spend mounting her offspring. Tilting back down, her flesh descending upon him, she prepared to rouse him from his dreaming.

Her aching pussy swelled, filled with blood that plumped her lower lips, inflaming her senses and screaming for relief.

It was now or never.

Uma held down her son's arms, gripping them by the wrists. Pinning Michael to the bed, she made final adjustments to her position.

Then, with her inner demon's encouragement, she kissed his forehead.

His eyes opened slowly.

“M-mom!?"

He tried to bolt upright, but was restrained by his mom's steely grip. Increased strength had been another aspect of the transformation, and Uma was demonstrating it with frightful effectiveness. He struggled in the wake of this surprise encounter, to no avail. “Mom...I can't get up."

“Shhh sweetie, don't try to. Mommy will make everything better."

“Wh-huh?" He glanced down at his mom's body. Another rush of confused adrenaline flooded his system. His eyes darted from her beautiful face, to her full breasts just inches from him, to her belly and beyond — where he knew, despite the darkness, she was completely naked. “Oh God," he wheezed, his speech faint.

Uma heard him. “Hush now Mikey," she said, taking on a seductive tone, “mommy's here. I want you...I want you bad!"

“Me—?"

“Yes sweetie, you. Your father's gone and Jacob...Jacob knows things. Did things. Things I encouraged. But he's not here, so I'll have you instead!" Michael again tried to get away, but Uma pressed her breasts against him, poking his chest with rock-hard nipples. “Stop fighting it!" she half-cried, half-whispered, “give in to me. I'll show you how much mommy loves you!"

Michael was torn. His tired conscience tried its hardest to dissuade him, but his mother's rubbing and pressing and stroking was having the desired effect. Since he walked in on her transforming he'd been drawn to her...at first it was subtle. Little errant thoughts. Followed by more overt attraction: his mixed feelings when she paraded herself scantily-clad around the house, her teasing during breakfast, her striking purple-tinged eyes...just capturing him whenever he caught her gaze. Many of these actions he wasn't sure she consciously made. They added up, however. He was defenceless against her sensual onslaught.

She exuded attraction. Her smell...akin to perfume, it wormed its way into his brain. Michael was drawn in...

Kisses placed upon his neck, whispery breathing, and the sensation of her mouth nibbling his exposed skin drove him crazy. Her teeth nipped delicately at his flesh. Each stream of breath exhaled tickling him, sparking nerves and sending signals to places he knew shouldn't receive any. This was his mother! This was wrong! He felt torn. Her touch, her bite, was so good, yet so very bad. His stomach fluttered, the depths of his gut wrenching at the prospect of bedding his mom, capturing the lack of surety that tormented him. Uma knew...

She paused, her hair dangling from her side, pricking his chest. “Do you want me? Because I want you."

She felt heavy. Her voluptuous figure wrapped around him. “Yes m-mom," he stammered.

“Then relax."

Suddenly she lunged forward. She kissed him full on the lips, tongue swirling into his mouth, giving him a taste of her wretched divinity. Michael, now driven by instinct instead of reason, allowed her to guide him, shape the flow of their tryst. Uma — in control — let herself loosen up. Her previously-well-maintained stance above him, designed to tease him to no end, descended into a warm embrace. Not needing to work hard to seduce her son anymore she too rescinded control and let herself fall prey to primordial instinct.

“Mommy needs it Michael. Needs it bad. Don't you want it too baby? I know you do...I can smell it on you, you know. See how much I need you Mikey!"

Uma's hips jiggled, shaking her curvaceous ass as she darted from mouth-to-neck, wandering all over her son's vulnerable form. The preternatural properties of her saliva...her sweat...the very taste of her faultless skin...captured his lust. Michael was enjoying their exchange just as much as she was, perhaps more given the sexy surprise she'd presented. He'd had girlfriends — one or two she believed — so her son wasn't a stranger to lovemaking. This time he had a mature lover, one whose experience outmatched any his age, elevated to the rank of succubus thanks to her awakened power. She pulled back, admiring his feeble attempts to crane his neck and kiss the empty air. He was hungry. Her needs would be taken care of.

“Did you like that baby?" she cooed, speaking in hushed tones. There was no real need to do so as she could block any escaping cries with ease. But what fun was a night of debauchery if you don't play your part correctly — and that meant whispering sweet nothings 'till dawn.

Michael strained to answer, taken by her charm. “Yeah mom, I did."

Uma hovered over her son, inches from his body. Her nether-lips leaked, a drip of spice falling onto his lower belly, narrowly avoiding his inflamed erection, stiff in anticipation. She shuffled forward. The sheets covering her withdrew, leaving them both naked in the open. “I thought so. You've been such a star this past month, after everything we've been through. Last night, I realised I could do more for this family."

“More?"

“More," she nodded. Again her hair brushed him. Striking blonde locks dancing in the night, shimmering in the moonlight. “Deep down I found strength. I want to share this strength before anyone can hurt you, or Donnie or—"

“Wait," he said, “I...don't understand..."

“Of course you don't sweetie, it's the middle of the night and you must be so tired! Don't worry baby, mommy's got it handled. Let things be, and soon you'll see what I mean." With a titter she ran her hand from his collar bone all the way down towards his groin. Michael seized up beneath her, a curt moan filling the silence.

Another kiss. Another time-stopping moment between mother and son.

Uma had long since released his arms from her grip, but they still felt trapped. Or maybe it was merely a lack of reason to move that kept them there. Michael's will was steady; he regained his wayward limbs. And yet...he did nothing to prevent what happened next...

His mother leaned forward, bringing her wonderful, heaving bosom into view. He never realised — in all the commotion and the kissing and the hypnotic words — the extent to which she was taking this. Did he resist? Nope.

Michael kissed her breasts. First one, then the other. Soft, pale tear-drops. Her nipples stood out as tough nubs of darker flesh, poking his face when he switched from boob to boob. In a sense, he was a child again. An infant, nosing at his mother's bounty. Something in the back of his mind took over, letting him fall into a pattern of kissing and rubbing. Uma supported his ministrations with wanderings of her own. Her hands felt him up, touching and rubbing also. The rich scent of his mom's body — be it perfume or pheromone — accentuated his hazy actions.

“Mmmmppff," said Michael, muffled by his mom's body. Uma smiled.

Pleasure tingled. Both were caught in a loop. One tasting, one teasing.

“Mom," he cried, finally freeing his head from between her mounds, “mom...you taste nice."

“Oh baby, I have something much nicer for you." Uma guided her son to her left nipple, so far untouched by his blind entreaties. He sealed his lips and began to suckle. “Oh God!" She blushed, strong jolts of pleasure running through her. He sucked heartily, tongue tending to the blood-filled centrepiece. It was his turn to cast her into ecstasy with the swirl of his tongue! And he put in effort, rewarding his mother for her prior attention. Her scent kept him transfixed. Up close, closer than ever since her transformation...it would be dangerous if he didn't want to fuck her. Someone with that kind of power. Able to seduce a man with nothing more than her presence. The seed she'd planted in her state of semi-undress during the day was flowering.

“That's it baby! Oh Mikey...you know how to please mommy!" she moaned as he suckled. “I could tell you wanted me today...how do you like my new body?"

“It's wonderful, mom." He toyed with her breasts, palms massaging the plump protrusions. “Y-you're amazing..."

“Like my breasts? They're much bigger and smoother than they were before."

“I-I love them." Michael was reduced to simple responses while his attention was elsewhere.

“Mmmmm. I can tell. There's more!"

Michael looked at her quizzically. What could she mean? After minutes tending her twins what else was there to enjoy?

Uma was quick to answer his unspoken question.

“C'mere," she said, shoving his face to her tit yet again. Closing her eyes, and tapping into the power granted to her, she let a wave of sexual energy course through her veins, reaching every corner of her body. Most of all, however, was the flush of supernatural sensation towards her breasts. This storm stirred her insides. A dry well isn't good enough, she purred.

Sure enough, Michael sensed a trickle of liquid emerge from her swollen nipple. He continued to suck, coaxing more and more from her breast. Uma was capable of producing milk at will, thanks to her demonic majesty. Just one of the many tricks she could use to enhance the making of love. “Drink," she commanded, “drink."

He obeyed. A warm flow of honeyed milk came from her, lapped up greedily by her son. Every gulp drove him further and further into her way of seeing things — as if he had any objections by this point! Her mammaries sated a thirst he never knew he had. Rich, wonderful milk, laden with his mother's love, poured endlessly into his wanting maw.

“Hey, swap over," she joked, “don't want to drain my whole supply!"

“S-sorry mom," he said, turning red in the face, “I just didn't know you were—"

“Producing?"

“Uhm, yeah."

“You're welcome."

“Oh yeah...thanks for—I—"

She cut him off with a kiss. Aren't I full of surprises tonight.

A couple of minutes passed with him drinking from the other breast. Feelings of motherhood and memories of her children when they were very young flooded her mind. There was something sublime about harnessing that wonderful emotion in the midst of foreplay.

Michael — well and truly addicted to her from all manner of liquids she secreted — begged for more, having emptied her. To think I conjured milk from nothing in a matter of seconds, she huffed, and he's already moved on...

“Fine. You've had fun, now it's my turn."

Uma dragged her body, rising as she moved, until her hips planted firmly on Michael's upper body. Her broad behind settled onto his tense chest like a soft pillow. Her legs flanked his...um...flanks, and she closed in around him, tightening, pressing against his sides. Michael coughed. She looked down at him and grinned, her smile peaking in the corner of her mouth as a naughty finger slid down her lips. “Shhh. No complaining. Take care of your mom's needs like a good son."

He eyed her exposed labia hungrily. Here was his mother's birth canal, the source of his entire existence. It captivated him — the tender gate of her loins, well-proportioned with just the right amount of external flesh snug between large thighs. And her scent...the heated musk of her sex. Strong. Overpowering. He tried to breath in deeply, sucking in air with renewed eagerness, but his mom sitting on his chest stifled his attempt. Managing furtive half-breaths, he bent forward using his shoulders to help prop himself up. Uma giggled. “My my, I think you know what I want."

“Yeah, I do."

“Are you ready to make mommy feel good?"

“God yes!"

Without another word, Uma moved above his head, and descended gently. Michael reached out with his tongue, probing the lust-laden air as he came closer and closer to her pussy. The first taste of forbidden fruit is the best, they say, and he wasn't one to argue. The instant his tongue glanced her moist lips he wanted more. He launched into a frenzy, smashing his mouth against it. One stern word from his mother about the proper etiquette for eating pussy later and he was taking his time to nip and nibble correctly, to which Uma couldn't help respond without a squeal escaping her. “That's it baby," she cooed, “that's good." From timid teen to practised lover, the gap quickly closed under her tutelage. His taste for her mature goods spurred him on. The wet sounds of slurping emanated from between her legs. Shivering from his cunnilingus, Uma grabbed handfuls of his hair, tugging at the roots and adding a dash of pain to their pleasure. “Yes! YES!"

She cried out into the silent night, magical soundproofing doing the rest. Fingernails scratched and hips shook. Wetness was lapped up. “Amazing...you got the hang of this so fast. Keep going, make me ROAR!!!"

On cue, a resounding roar came. It boomed, resonating with multiple tones, multi-layered voices...consuming the animal grunts and groans of their copulation with demonic intensity. Michael's ears burned, the noise was so great. Uma's bellowing welled up from deep within; 'twas as if her soul screamed in ecstasy. This continued with not a sound passing through the walls of the bedroom. The rest of the house was quiet. No-one knew of the devilish deeds being committed between the pair.

Uma's whole body jerked back-and-forth, her hips and tits jiggling as her son remained beneath her, loyally tending to her aching treasure. “GGRRRAaarrhgghhh..." The noise petered out, Uma's lungs emptied.

Part-terrified, part-aroused, Micheal retreated from her entrance.

“Oooohhhh..." Uma gave him room to breathe, having put him through the ringer. Her thighs spread further apart, releasing his head from her sweaty embrace. “...you gave me one hell of a good time."

“You...you were really strong."

“Was I? Must've been too much. Sorry sweetie, I got a little carried away."

“No," he replied, “it's okay."

She slid her ass back to his midsection, where his erection dwelt. “Do you like having a strong mommy?"

Michael was receptive to her pillow talk, and the continual injection of the word 'mommy' tickled a part of him that longed to be played with. She didn't actually need to cast a spell or assert her supernatural authority — he just went with it. Lust is a powerful emotion, it could overrule any semblance of rationality faster than he could think to avert his gaze from her nude splendour.

“How?"

“That's a story for another time," she said, “and stories are boring — this moment is too precious to waste."

A shake of her butt brought it bouncing atop his cock — the soaked lining of her inner thighs rubbing against his manhood in a display of sensual dominance. Uma ran her pussy across his shaft, revelling in its hardness. Michael whimpered — something he tried to hide, but she heard it loud and clear. “You like that?" she teased, slapping her hand haphazardly over his face. She shifted, dragging her wet lips over his bulbous head, hearing it plop onto his stomach, drenched in a mixture of pre-cum and her own juices. Their bodies screaming out for the real deal, they locked eyes. Michael stared into his mother's amethyst orbs. They pulled him in a direction he so desperately needed to go, and a part of him feared she would pop out of existence and he'd shoot out of bed in a haze, revealing the whole sordid affair to be nothing more than an intense dream. No, whether fantasy or reality, he wanted to feel inside her...hold her close as he speared her...

Their minute of peace on Earth was interrupted when Uma reached behind and took hold of his penis. Rubbing it all over her ass, she gave him a seductive look. Michael's eyes rolled back when she squeezed his cock between her apple-bottomed cheeks. His tip received the brunt of her squeeze, massaged by her jaw-dropping curves. Supporting her grip by placing both hands on her sides and pressing inward, his mom moved up-and-down, stroking his cock.

“Fuck!" he exclaimed, the weight and pressure getting to him. Youthful stamina kept the risk of being set off at bay — for a time. How long he could last was a different matter.

Uma issued further challenges to her enraptured son. Remarks intended to provoke, to excite...

Helpless, Michael fell for every word.

After an eternity of blue-balling, his mom settled down, resting on top of him, one finger circling his chest. She looked at him with honesty betraying her intentions. “Want to go all the way?" she asked in a sultry candour.

“Are you r-really asking that?"

“Yep."

“Then...yeah..."

An eager expression beamed from her gorgeous face as she readied herself. This was her reward. Her real gift. Replacing the empty husk Kianna sold to her with promises of betterment. Now she was complete. Her body beautified, her soul sensualised, her mind mollified. She was the demon-matriarch of the Eriksson household — and she let it show...

The bulging end of Michael's shaft touched her silken folds just briefly. A mere second of contact. But that touch rocked him. Here was pleasure. Taboo, yet here it lay, a fraction of an inch away. Neither spoke, for they were guided by primordial instincts — ones that bore no concept of blood, only lust. She hissed as she lowered herself, turning fleeting glance into a persistent joy. A sharp exhale of breath emerged as his cock-head fit inside her. She felt weak at the knees. For so long her strength had carried her throughout the night — nothing let it falter — except for now, when the notion of crossing this cursed threshold became realised. It never felt this way with Jacob, that fateful day. But she was ordinary back then. So dull and unimportant.

There was no reason to expect anything different this time 'round.

Her new form, however, thought otherwise.

As Michael gasped with the first inch of his erection penetrating his mother, he scrunched his face and shut his eyes. Feelings...new feelings developed. He grit his teeth, hoping to ride out the shock of first contact. Her soft interior coaxed him deeper, calling to him like a siren at sea. He was but a hapless sailor, tossed by the currents to a dangerous harbour, where she sat patiently on the storm-bruised rocks longing for her next meal. There was something otherworldly about this feeling...this sensation she created for him. His mom was no normal woman, not anymore at least. Whatever he'd witnessed, whatever he'd suspected, paled in comparison to what he experienced right now.

And in this moment, with his cock sinking into her, she showed a little of that otherworldliness...

Uma cried, once more with inhuman spectacle. The mixed voices hummed, vibrating through the room and in his ears. She continued to take him. Inch-by-inch, her roar grew. Michael sensed she was close to his hilt, and gulped nervously. Things were getting strange. Stranger.

Her fierceness burned through the absence of light. A warm glow filled the bedroom. Gradually, with each minute section of his length she swallowed, her appearance changed. Her skin, previously perfect — a pale vision of Scandinavian beauty — darkened. Over her curves, her softness, came thin fissures. Red and orange, burning beneath the surface. Their peculiar light scarred her appearance with faint lines, mimicking the split ground of volcanic terrain, and the markings of her infamous pendant. Barely perceptible at first. Becoming clearer as her pleasure rose. In the dimness, Michael struggled to make sense of the sight in front of him. She looked the same...but at the same time didn't. Something changed, something new was showing.

When she finally hit the bottom, consuming him whole, her cries died. She buckled, barely catching herself by ramming her forearms into the mattress to find purchase. The lights faded. All that remained were criss-crossing marks, fast disappearing on her body, and the shadow on the wall behind them — cast in the image of pointed wings.

“Fuck yes," she moaned, her slippery chasm accepting his dick wholeheartedly, “that feels sooo gooood!!!"

“Mom...you're tight!"

“I know baby, I know, don't pop too soon...mommy wants nice long ride!"

She lifted off of him, sliding his member halfway out. He was slick with her lubricant. “That's it, keep yourself steady sweetheart. Hold still...keep—" her encouragement vanished when she fell back down, ramming him inside with wild abandon. Mighty yowls came from the demoness above, his sexy mother. She entered into a rhythm, bouncing on his dick at a steady rate. Hands pressed down on his chest, groping and grappling his flustered body. Her silky insides brought immense sensations coursing through him, from his tingling shaft all the way to the tips of his fingers. Uma rocked, fucking him cowgirl-style, leading him on the path to heaven.

He moaned. “Oh God mom!"

“Yes...FUCK YES!!!"

Bucking, gyrating motion took over. Uma held her son down as she rode him, letting him push back enough to pump his cock into her. Ramping up the speed of their thrusting, she drank in the surge of feeling spilling from her womanhood. Her backside shook with each slam of her son's vigorous pelvis. Velvet depths caressed invading flesh in a cavalcade of thrill. They were mating; two mere animals in the dead of night. Their fucking descended into a battle of raw, primal fury. Michael joined in his mother's cries of joy with his own hoarse call. Balls slapped against her underside, sending shock-waves careening through her thick hips. Her position on top remained steady. She straddled her strapping young rocking-horse.

Uma lost her voice amid the tumult. She drank in the sensations he caused. Her tight pussy...her swollen lips...her clitoris aflame. His comfortable length graced every important inch of her innermost treasure — not excessive or unusually sized, but perfect for her use. Muscles twitched as her conscious command wavered.

Trapped in her soft passage, Michael began to run out of steam. His hips slowed, pushing less often, as the strain of their lovemaking caught up with him. Suddenly, with a final burst of strength, he shot forward, rising from the mattress now stained with sweat into her arms. “Mm...oof!" he grumbled as he collided with her chest, burying his head between her breasts. She continued to grind against his crotch, accepting his time-out.

“Mikey," she whispered, her motherly side returning for their respite, “are you okay sweetie? I haven't tired you out yet have I?"

“No...mom...not...nuh-not yet. I just want to slow down a little."

“Aww, I am wearing you out. Don't be shy, tell me. You can tell your mother anything, right?"

He nodded, a face-full of boob blocking most of him from her gaze. Still inside, he wriggled his lower body, adjusting for a better resting position. “I'm close, mom," he said, bated breath punctuating each word uttered. “That's okay," she replied, “I'm close too."

He looked up. There his mom's face glowed, happy and horny. Perspiration drenched her figure, glistening in the silvery moonlight. His eyes tracked the passage of discolouration millimetres beneath her skin — the darkened lines lit no more, now shadowy after-marks. He wanted to ask about them, but chose not to venture down that path. Not yet. So much was new. So much was changing. Mom looked great. She looked...divine...

Uma hugged him, roughly tugging at his frame, as she calmed down. Her end was nigh. A few weak thrusts, and reciprocal motions, kept her fires burning. He seemed so vulnerable in her arms. A child of her making, baptised into the family sin. Jacob would be jealous. He'll find out, she mused, he'll know from my scent.

Pheromones battered her son's sinuses, filling him with sordid thoughts. Content for the moment, she let him nestle in her bosom. Exhaustion was creeping up on the pair of them. Sporadic bursts of energy came and went, forcing one or the other to apply themselves.

Vaginal fluids dripped from her pussy, still in the middle of her incestual heat. Warm, moist lubricant. With no sign of stopping as long as she was craving release. God, she really was acting like a beast...did she even care about consequences? A bitter laugh filled her mind. Consequences? Hah! I've already beaten consequences. This isn't going to work a second time. You hear me? If the man upstairs takes issue with my decisions he can try to interfere...no force in Heaven, Hell, or Earth will change my mind.

I am a QUEEN! And this town will be my kingdom.

I don't give a fuck what Kianna thinks. That dirty cunt can be the first to burn. I'll build the pyre myself!

She gripped her son's back forcefully, pressing him against her. Skin upon skin. Her nails bit in deep, drawing tiny amounts of blood.

You like this? Huh? Was this in your plan? My kids are staying with me. I have Jacob. I'll have Mikey soon — he loves his mother, tonight proves that. And I'll take back Donnie and Cynthia...

...

Invite them into your home!? Without my permission!?

She snarled aloud.

Whatever you're trying will fail.

Michael made soothing noises while his mom held him tight. On the outside and on the inside. Her walls were constricting, closing around his erection as he lay within her. The scene was surreal...this was for sure a dream. He tried to speak properly, but the heady combination of her powerful scent and his raging hormones turned all his words to gibberish. His mind had shut down, which left his body free to act. And what an act it'd been! The need to breed, as primitive an instinct as possible, dominated his consciousness. But he was so close...so very close. He couldn't give up now.

He had surrendered to her will. Only time would tell if he'd regret it.

In his defence: no straight man could've possibly resisted her. Yeah...that's what he'd tell himself when he felt the sting of shame.

There was no time to linger on bad thoughts; after a brief recovery period they were ready to end things. Uma coached Michael through his last tentative thrusts. His whole body felt like lead weights were attached. “That's my boy...you're so good to mommy."

His cock was ready to explode.

“Ah! Mom—"

Her folds drew him in, sealing his fate forevermore. A surging feeling bubbled up from his balls, causing him to hilt himself as far as possible, his lust commanding it. Uma writhed atop him, her hips repeatedly undulating, warping and rolling over his waistline. Pin-pricks of pleasure pierced her skin across her entire body — nerve endings fizzling in anticipation. “Come on, last mile," she said.

“I can't hold it in anymore!"

“That's okay baby, let go..."

“I love you mom."

“I love you too Mikey." You are mine.

He came. From his buried tip a rich foam flowed, followed by a jet of sticky cream. The pulse of his cock matched the sequence of stifled cries he made — they sounded like hiccups, emanating from her chesty embrace. More and more spurts of cum squirted from his tender shaft, his mother's flesh wrapping around his member and rippling with expectant anxiety. She was about to cum too.

In an instant, with her womb drowning in liquid love, she froze. Her head buzzed. Her body jerked. The payoff to their incest arrived with plenty of warning, and yet still took her completely off-guard.

Orgasm. Here. Now. Hard and fast.

Screaming. Shaking.

One last gasp of pure joy.

Her form bent over, curving along the pose Michael allowed for her. He leaned back. She leaned in. They stayed close.

Talking had long ceased. For ages they remained in place: mother and son, quivering in the wake of climax. Uma's head was buried firmly between her son's neck and shoulder, eyes shut, hair draped over him.

Michael, exhausted from the toll his mom's libido demanded, uttered his last words before sleep threatened him: “mom...that was...amaz—"

Uma cradled his head, breathing loudly. Even without saying a thing, her voice shone through — beautiful...enticing. She opened her eyes and lifted herself from him.

They stared. Questions peppered their thoughts. Would either forget? Would tiredness win the day?

Without bothering to find answers, they kissed. Full on the lips. Their tongues danced dangerously in an echo of their first tasting, now with all the accumulated baggage of a night of passion. Mouths, sopping wet, tore hungrily at one another. A perfect sign-off to their erotic encounter. A perfect kiss...

Drowsy, Michael fell back. It took a couple of seconds to fall asleep. In that time Uma turned and reclined, releasing his softening penis as she slid away. Sexual effluent smeared all over their lower halves. Mother's juice and son's seed. She lay beside him.

Hush sweetie, go back to sleep. You treated your mommy right, you deserve a rest.

Her body still swaddled him, cuddling up to his sleeping form, acting as a maternal blanket of soft skin and inviting curves.

She listened to his chest rise and fall.