The Island of I - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I was delighted to see Mother sitting at the dinner table She was dressed in a sky blue dress that tied behind her neck and exposed her bare shoulders. The dress had an entrancing and plunging neckline that drew attention to her breasts, which appeared to be unfettered by a bra. Her golden hair was pinned up in several complicated tresses, and a jeweled comb held the contrivance together.

My delight at Mother's lovely appearance was diluted as Father had joined us again, complete with maps and two well-worn journals. At his insistence, Antonia and Hector joined us, as he wanted to re-emphasize the importance of uncovering his precious altar. With some reluctance, the housekeeper and her son brought in their food and joined us at the table where Father dominated the conversation.

"I imagine just a few more days will change everything" he gushed. "Once we have the altar that Isprey used for his summoning, all the pieces will be in place. I can prove he was actually here, and that he did indeed attempt to call the Old Ones."

Mother tried to join his conversation, "I'm sure you've told me before, Thomas, but what exactly are the Old Ones?"

Antonia muttered under her breath as Father replied, "No one knows for sure. Gods, maybe. Perhaps they are beings from outside our universe. Isprey and others wrote of their immense power, magic perhaps, that if conveyed to mortals would allow them rule empires and know wealth beyond imagination. Isprey speculated that such power could even convey immortality."

Mother smiled slightly and asked, "And he attempted his summoning? Was he successful?"

Father frowned. "No. There are conflicting accounts of what happened. The manuscript indicates that he was..." Father's voice took on a narrating quality, "The Anglander was taken by the daemon. And in inhumane fury was torn to pieces and consumed by an unholy fire. The daemon's shrieks ripped his soul apart, and likewise consumed it in great fury."

"My God," murmured Mother. "And you wish to recreate this summoning?" She looked appalled.

Father laughed and said, "My research indicates that he lacked vital information on the ceremony. But, information that I have obtained at great expense."

He glanced at Antonia, who was tracing something in the air as if warding off a hex.

Father blushed and frowned before shrugging his shoulders, "I simply want to prove that Isprey indeed was here. And that it was here, that he attempted the summoning. That's all."

"You dabble in things dark and terrible, Mister Halloran," Antonia murmured in a low and serious voice. "Knowledge unwisely gained and unwisely used, is dangerous."

"Mind your place, Antonia and remember. This was Vincizio's desire as well."

Mother gasped politely at the harsh tone in Father's voice.

Antonia did not seem fazed as she replied, "And now Vincizio is dead. Destroyed by his own quest for things best left hidden in the darkness of ignorance."

Father stood up and gathered his books and materials in his arms. "This is not a debate, Antonia. Leave my work be, or be prepared to leave the next time Captain Waltern visits."

Hector began to stand, but halted at a simple hand gesture from his mother. Still, his eyes burned with anger at the superior and arrogant tone in Father's voice.

Antonia smiled coldly and replied, "No. That will not be necessary, Mister Halloran. I will stay and serve as best I can."

Father muttered, "Fine. Excuse me, I have much to do." He stalked to the door, pausing to look back and glare at Hector and myself. "Get cracking early tomorrow. I want that altar found!" Then he disappeared. His footsteps echoed in the silence as he went upstairs.

The silence lingered in the room as Mother and I exchanged concerned glances. Then she looked to Antonia and said, "I apologize for Thomas' words. I fear he sometimes loses himself in his work. He so badly wishes to vindicate himself in the eyes of critics who have laughed at his theories for so long."

Antonia stood and came around the table to place a hand on Mother's bare shoulder. Giving it a gentle squeeze, she said, "There is no need to apologize. I understand his desires, and the pain his work has brought you. You and I have traveled the same path with our husband's shared quests for knowledge." She caressed Mother's shoulder briefly, arousing in me an unexpected emotion of lewd desire that made my penis throb.

Mother smiled up at Antonia and whispered, "Thank you." She dropped her linen napkin on the table and pushed back from the chair to stand up.

Hector and I rose quickly as was only good form.

Mother paused and looked at both of us. "Please, continue to eat, boys. I fear I've lost my appetite. Excuse me."

"Mother..." My voice went silent as Antonia fixed me with dark eyes and slightly shook her head.

My mother glanced back at me once, trying to smile. I could see the tears pooling in her eyes, and I ached to go to her and hold her in my arms. She walked out, and her softer footsteps could be heard going up the stairs.

Antonia came over to me and gently stroked my cheek. "Give her a little bit, John. She needs a brief moment to compose herself. Your father has embarrassed her, and maybe frightened her a little. Go up after you finish eating. She will be more ready to have you with her then."

I nodded and returned to my food, picking at it as I found I'd lost my appetite as well.

Hector finished up and nodded at me, offering me courage in his smile. He told his mother he would begin the cleanup in the kitchen so they might turn in early.

Antonia nodded and lingered after her son left the dining table. She slipped into the chair next to me and placed her hand on my leg, said softly, "John, you have questions, I think. Ask them."

I shook my head for a moment as all my thoughts tried to be first. There was so much I wanted to know about her and Hector and their incestuous life together. But for all my curiosity about them and about what might happen to Mother and me, I found myself chiefly concerned with Father.

"Is Father going mad?" I was surprised with the concern that was more than evident in my voice.

Antonia shook her head and replied, "No. Not mad. Although I think a man who abandons his family to travel a road as dark as his, cannot be considered altogether sane."

"What is he pursuing, Antonia?"

She pursed her lips together, her eyebrows knotting as she pondered on how to reply. Finally, she answered, "Knowledge, John. Your father pursues dark knowledge from man's earliest times. That knowledge that can bring power, and can open the door for terrible evil."

"What is Father trying to do?"

Antonia reached into a pocket and took out a small object on a beaded chain and kissed it, whispered something under her breath as she then put it away. "There is a power imprisoned here on this island. It is ancient and terrible and it is not from this world. It is from outside. Your father wishes to master it for his own purposes, as this Anglo Saxon, Isprey once attempted. If your father attempts it and fails to control this power, it can go terrible for him."

"And if he succeeds?"

Antonia shivered. "Then he would do what many have tried to do for ten millennia. But that too would be terrible, and in the end, it will consume him. And the earth might endure devastation worse than any in memory."

That sounded alarming. "What do you mean by devastation?"

She sighed and looked away towards a window that looked out upon the Atlantic Ocean. "Hector told you that he and I are of the Jahndi, a homeless people?"

I nodded and she sighed again. "Long ago, the Jahndi lived in a lush and fertile land. But a prince of our homeland lusted for power and attempted to harness outsiders and their strength. Our high priests gave battle to these evil things and banished most of them from our universe. But the price... The devastation sent our homeland sinking into the sea. A proper burial for a land that reeked of death and evil."

"My father wants that?"

There must have been a great deal of anguish in my voice, because Antonia returned her gaze to my face and stroked my cheek again. "Do not be afraid, John. It will not happen. Love will protect you." She leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips. "Remember and hold your love for your mother in your heart. Keep faith in her and yourself and no harm can come to you."

"How?" I whispered.

"Just love your mother. Keep her close in terrible times and never, ever let her go. Your love for each other will sustain you through the worst of times."

I confess that confusion, mixed with fear, filled my heart and my mind. I felt no clearer about things than when I had first begun asking her questions. Part of me wanted to believe that Antonia was as mad as I feared my father was. But another part of me worried that I was being seduced into a madness, aroused by the illicit love that Antonia and her son shared, and my impure lust for Mother.

Antonia studied my face and nodded. "So much to learn about in so short a time, eh? Enough for now. Go to your mother, John. She needs you. She needs to know how much you love her."

She stood up and ran her hands through my hair. She leaned down and kissed the top of my head and then turned and walked away into the kitchen, not looking back.

I sat for a moment, struggling to comprehend what was the right thing to do.

Abandoning all pretense, I hurried upstairs, eager to find my mother. I found Mother in the upstairs sitting room, with an unopened book resting in her lap. She looked up at the sound of my footsteps. There was a pained expression of something nearly undefined in her face, although I was hoping it was longing for me.

"John," she sighed and held out her hand.

I hurried across the room and knelt at her feet before she could blink, taking her hand in mine and gently bringing it to my lips for a soft kiss. "Mother," I began. "I am so glad to see you feeling better."

I could not help but let my gaze wander from her blue eyes, to roam appreciatively over her body encased in the clingy, light blue dress. Her breasts were straining against the fabric, her nipples visible against the thin material. Her bare shoulders looked so delectable, my mouth almost watered at the thought of kissing them and running my tongue teasingly along her flawless, alabaster skin.

Mother started to reply and then hesitated, looking down towards the book in her lap as if she couldn't bear my hungry stare. "I'm sorry if I worried you, John," she said in almost a whisper. "I have been disconcerted. Things... my feelings about things have been confused lately."

I squeezed her hand gently and kissed it again as I voiced my worst fears. "Mother, if I have done anything to offend you. I'm truly sorry and I promise.."

Mother pressed her fingers against my lips and shook her head. "Do not speak of such things. Not here. But you should know that you have no cause to reproach yourself."

Neither of us spoke for a moment, and I was torn between elation and fear, as I wondered what was on Mother's heart.

She matched my longing gaze for a moment and then turned and looked out the great bay window that provided a brilliant view of the ocean. "It is dark. But the moon is so lovely."

I followed her gaze and saw the moon, full and bright, rising over the dark waters of the Atlantic.

My mouth was dry in my nervousness as I rasped, "Mother, would you like to take a walk on the beach. If you feel up to it?"

Mother shivered, still looking away from me as she closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. I suddenly realized how attractive Mother's slight overbite was. "John..." She paused. Then she turned her head sharply and looked at me with something ravenous shining in her eyes. "Yes. I would like to take a walk on the beach with you, son."

---

Pleased that my mother had agreed to yet another walk along the moonlit beach, I slowly stood, never releasing my mother's hand, and helped her rise from her seat.

Not saying a word, she slipped her arm through my mine. We slowly walked into the hallway and down the stairs. We ignored Father's office, where we could hear him talking to himself.. Neither of us spoke as we left the house and walked down the dimly lit path to the beach.

In the sand, we both kicked off our shoes and made our way north, trudging along at the edge of the surf. We let the spray soak the cuffs of my pants and the hem of Mother's dress.

We walked quite a ways, maybe a mile or more, far from house. At some point, I slipped my arm around Mother's waist and she leaned into me as we walked, resting her head against my shoulder. Her body felt warm, almost feverish against me.

The full moon seemed to follow us, and a small thought flickered through my mind. Since our first walk on the beach, days ago, the moon should have begun to wane, but it still looked as full and as brilliant as that first night. That thought was soon lost as more pressing matters weighed on my mind, all regarding the woman I was holding so intimately.

We stopped at the surf's edge, the waves gently rolling in.

Mother stared up at the gibbous moon and murmured, "It is so beautiful. So lovely."

I gently reached out and took Mother's arm and turned her so she was facing me. Slowly, I ran a hand up her arm, fingers trailing over her bare shoulder and finally stroking her cheek. "You're beautiful, Mother," I said in a gentle, but stern voice. "You are the loveliest woman I've ever seen."

I felt Mother shiver, as her arms rose up and slipped around my waist. She slowly leaned into me as if she needed me to support herself, pressing her breasts against my chest. I could feel her heart beating very fast, and she almost seemed to vibrate with expectant energy.

She whispered, "Oh, son."

We stood, embraced for what seemed hours, not speaking as we looked into each other's eyes. Finally our mouths seemed to move closer together as if drawn by some irresistible force. Mother's lips pressed against mine, soft and warm and open. Instinctively I slipped my tongue into her mouth only to have it greeted by hers. A muffled moan escaped from her as we kissed.

Mother tasted sweet, almost citrus-like, as our tongues curled around each other, slowly sliding wet, soft flesh against each other. I pulled her tighter against me as she tightened her grip around my waist. As we continued to kiss, her left leg rose alongside mine until the sole of her foot was resting high on the back of my calf. Like starving beings, we feasted on each other's lips, kissing hungrily, passionately as our tongues kept us linked, neither of us closing our eyes, our gazes as tightly locked as were our mouths.

I felt Mother shaking in my arms, from fear or passion or both, I did not know. She began to sag, her legs unable to support her. I slowly lowered us both to our knees so that we knelt in the gentle surf, our kiss never ending.

Mom brought one arm up and stroked my face, then ran fingers through my hair before curling her arm around my neck, making little contented sighs as we continued to kiss. My hands worked circles on her upper back, feeling the tension there. Slowly, I slid my hands down to her lower back and continued to rub. Then I moved my hands down to cup her buttocks, feeling that her dress was wet from the water that swirled around us.

The kiss continued with a life of its own, our frantic tongues seemed a contrast to the gentle caresses of each other's body. I brought my hands back up Mother's back to caress her bare shoulders and then the exposed curve of her neck. I moved my hands into her pinned hair and plucked the jeweled comb free, momentarily recalling it as an anniversary present from Father several years ago. Impulsively, I tossed it over my shoulder into the dry sand and ran my fingers through Mother's silky, blonde hair, urging it to fall down.

Mother's fingers plucked at my shirt, unbuttoning it and pulling it out of my slacks. She spread my shirt wide to expose my chest, and her fingers caressing my exposed skin. After weeks of work, I was showing some muscular definition. Mother broke the kiss, and nipped at my chin with her mouth, and then ducked her head and began planting kisses on my chest. Her hot tongue teased me as she took little licks and moved her lips over my skin.

"Oh, Mother," I breathed. "I love you so much!"

As I felt my mother's lips brush over my small, hard nipples, my hands slipped up to the back of her neck to find the tie of her halter dress. I began to fumble at the knot there. I'm sure it wasn't a difficult thing to untie, but one must consider how distracted I was as I felt Mother's mouth sucking at my pebbled nipples.

Finally, I felt the strings of her halter slip free. I took hold of Mother's shoulders and urged her back. She stared lustily at me, and then looked down with surprise, and watched my fingers peel down her top, revealing her large white breasts, capped by long nipples that stood out against her milky pale flesh. Now half-naked, Mother looked back up at my face, an expression of arousal mixed with apprehension.

"Mother," I whispered.

My hands slid up her arms, pausing just short of cupping her fleshy breasts. I was so anxious to touch her, yet not sure if I should. Mother resolved my dilemma by bringing her hands up and guiding mine to her breasts. She moaned softly as my fingers pressed into her soft flesh. Her long nipples were hard in my palms, and pulsating with her desire.

"I love you, John," Mother whispered as I fondled her breasts.

She leaned forward so we could kiss, her lips hungrily seeking mine. My lips opened and I accepted her tongue into my mouth as we kissed passionately again. My sense of the world faded, leaving only my mother and me, with only the brilliant light of the full moon and the strangely warm waters of the surf enhancing the beauty of the moment.

After what seemed an eternity of kissing and caressing each other, I felt Mother's hand slid downwards, over my stomach, and press against my crotch.

"Oh my, John," Mother moaned, breaking our kiss again. Delight was evident in her voice, as my desire for her was confirmed as she moved her hand against the erection in my pants. "You... son... you're hard for me?"

"For you, Mother," I gasped as her hand continued to rub my erect penis through my pants. "All my desires. All my love is for you, Mother!"

Mother half-laughed and half-sobbed as she kissed me again. Her hand caressed and squeezed my erection as I continued to fondle her breasts. A few minutes later or maybe it was a lifetime, I found the courage to drop my hand downwards, gathering the folds of her dress together, pulling the material together in search of the hem. Finally, I found it, soaking wet from the ocean surf, and slipped my hand under, finding Mother's bare thigh.

At my touch, Mother shivered and then moaned softly against my lips. Slowly, I worked my hand up her thigh, feeling the silky softness as my fingertips slipped over her inner thigh and encountered her silky and wet pelt of pubic hair. It slowly dawned on me that Mother had left the house sans panties. A fact that seemed lewd, and exciting at the same time. Mother stiffened against me as she felt her son's fingers probing the hot, slick lips of her labia.

This time it was my turn to break the kiss. As I leaned back, I felt a strand of saliva from Mother's mouth drape against my chin. I gazed on my mother in all her aroused glory, looking like something from an erotic painting. Her heavy breasts were illuminated in the moonlight, heaving as she gasped for breath and watched me gazing at her. It was so erotic to see her with her halter dress fallen to her waist and her blonde hair hanging down over her shoulders. I looked at her with love and amazement as

I leaned in, moving my head downwards and latched my lips around a swollen nipple.

Mother moaned, "Yesssss!"

I rolled my tongue over the swollen, turgid nub, feeling her blood pulsing through her body. Her heart, and her life so intensely evident. I slipped two of my fingers inside her. It was the first time I had actually touched a woman's aroused pussy. I felt her sticky, wet warmth tighten around my probing fingers, and delighting in the wicked knowledge that it was my mother's most secret place that I was touching.

Mother stiffened again and she gasped, "Oh, John. I'm your mother!"

I ignored her protest as I suckled at Mother's  breast for the first time in nearly two decades. Almost primal memories suffused with pleasure wafted close to the surface of my mind. I felt a contentment swelling within me that I had never known before, as I reconnected with my mother at an intimate level that only a mother and child could achieve, sweetened with the sexual pleasure that it produced. All my worries and concerns seemed to vanish as I sucked Mother's breast and fingered her wet pussy.

I felt movement around my crotch and realized with delight that Mother had unzipped my pants and slipped her hand inside. She held my erection with one hand while her other hand tugged my pants and underwear down around my thighs. After freeing my penis, she slowly stroked my member and whispered in frightened awe, "John... Your penis, is lovely!"

With this new revelation, Mother ran her palm along the shaft of my erect penis and I could sense growing confidence with each stroke. I groaned with pleasure at how her hand felt on my swollen member.

Mother cried out in surprise as I playfully bit her nipple before letting it slip from my mouth. I took advantage of her open-mouthed cry and kissed her again. My tongue pressed into her mouth as I moved my fingers in her pussy more vigorously. There was a sudden gush of her juices that lubricated my fingers.

Frantically, we masturbated each other, suddenly filled with the desire to pleasure the other. My fingers explored the hot, slick inner walls of her vagina, eagerly seeking to discover Mother's sensitive places. I was rewarded each time she moaned appreciatively into my mouth. I felt a never-before experienced thrill of pleasure ripple through me, intensifying the pleasure her hand was bringing me as it moved up and down my throbbing penis.

Suddenly, Mother cried out, ending the kiss as her free hand clawed at my chest. She began to shake and quiver and fell against me, moaning against my shoulder. Her pussy tightened around my fingers, holding them captive as I felt hot fluid drench my fingers in a torrent and collect in my palm. She stopped stroking me and just held my erect penis, occasionally giving it a gentle and loving squeeze. I was momentarily alarmed until I realized that Mother was in the throes of orgasmic delight.

Still clawing at my chest, Mother raised her head. Tears were running down her cheeks as she sobbed, "God help me. I love you so!" Her face was contorted by the ecstasy my fingers had brought her, giving her a wild and erotic look that quickened my building orgasm.

As Mother's climax began to recede, her vaginal muscles relaxed around my fingers, and she resumed stroking my cock. She gripping it expertly as she ran her fist up and down my erection and brushed her thumb against the underside of my crown. She was urgent to reciprocate and deliver me to orgasm. Try as I might to delay my ejaculation, Mother's touch would brook no refusal.

I cried out, "Mother, I love you!" and then sobbed with absolute delight as there was an explosion of pure ecstasy at the base of my crotch.

My hips jerked and I began ejaculating with such forceful intensity that it bordered on pain. The first stream of semen splashed against Mother's stomach, the sticky strand drooping and clinging to the fabric of her dress bunched about her waist. Mother gazed down, and with some agility managed to catch the rest of my hot seed in her free hand. I ejaculated over and over, not remembering an orgasm so intense or so prolonged, which was amazing when I realized how many times I had spent myself in the last few days. But of course, this was special. For the first time in my young life, I was achieving sexual gratification at the hands of another, and more importantly, my orgasm was due to the ministrations of my mother.

The sweet experience of orgasm seemed to hang between us for an eternity, but finally began to wane. We both slumped back, removing our hands from one another, kneeling in the shallow surf, stunned and amazed at the experience. Mother smiled at me, conveying both motherly love and incestuous lust.

With childlike wonder, I held my hand up. In the moonlight, I could see Mother's ejaculate glistening in the brilliant light of the full moon overhead. Like a child exploring the world with all its senses, I brought my fingers close to my face. I could smell Mother's strong and wonderful scent, and began licking her wetness off my fingers. My semi-erect cock twitched as I savored her strong, sweet and salty flavor.

In the moonlight, I could see Mother's face burn with something between arousal and embarrassment at the sight of her child lapping up cream from her pussy like a tasty dessert. Then she smiled at me and held up her cupped hand, a trickle of my semen hanging over the edge. Mirroring my actions, Mother brought it to her face and inhaled the scent of my seed. Looking at me coyly, Mother brought my pooled semen closer to her mouth and her tongue slipped out to dip tentatively into the pearly puddle. Her tongue retreated, with a glob of my semen on the tip.

Mother tasted me and seemed to find it pleasing, because she began to lap at my seed like a thirsty pet at its water bowl. She made happy, approving noises as she slurped the heavy, viscous fluid. Suddenly, Mother paused and drew back as if she had suddenly awoke from a fevered dream and realized what she was doing. She stared at me in something akin to shock and then unthinking, clapped her cum covered hand against her face, smearing my semen across her mouth and chin as her eyes widened in dismay.

In a swift and graceful motion, Mother climbed to her feet and spun to look out on the ocean. I rose behind her and stepped close, my cock brushing her hip from behind as I placed my hands on her bare shoulders. "Mother, are you alright?"

Long, agonizing seconds passed before she said in a faint voice, "My god, son. What have we done?"

I wrapped my arms possessively around her, my forearms tucked against the undersides of her naked breasts, and I said softly into her ear, "Nothing that we shouldn't have, Mother. We shared our love for each other. Love that needed to be acknowledged."

Mother shivered at my words even as she leaned back into me. "Are we going mad, John? Is this island making us crazy?"

She turned and looked up into my eyes. Her lips and chin were wet with my seed, and a small, thick blob of semen clung at the corner of her mouth. "I've dreamed of you, son. Dreamt of doing things to you that a mother should never even think of."

Her words sent a shiver through me as I recalled the erotic dreams of her, that I experienced of late. "I've dreamt of you too, Mother. If there is something about this island that has guided us into each other's arms, I can only be grateful that it has allowed me to see you as the lovely woman you are. The woman that I need and want. I love you, Mother, with all my heart and soul!"

"Madness," Mother murmured, burying her face against my chest. "This is wrong, son. A mother and son are not meant to be this way."

I hugged my mother to me in a tight embrace. As I tried to reply to her effort to deny the rightness of what we had done, I felt Hector's words come back to me and I tried to apply them to our situation.

"I once thought as you do, Mother. But now, knowing you as I have, I see that there is nothing wrong in what we have shared. We simply expressed our love for each other in a more advanced way, more personal and intimate. Tell me you've ever been this close to another's heart, even Father. Yes, it may be incest, but we've committed no sin. We have come to know each other on a truer and more honest level than most people will ever experience!"

I kissed my mother then, long and hard, pouring everything I felt for her into the kiss. I was gratified and thrilled at her response, relishing the taste and touch of her tongue against mine even as I recognized the taste of my own seed on my mother's lips.

When the kiss ended, I said, "Tell me that that was wrong, Mother. Tell me that the love you feel for me this very instant is wrong."

Mother bit her lower lip, the instinctive action so adorable and sexy that I felt my cock stir with arousal. Tears trickled down her face as she replied, "I cannot say that. But so much is happening. So many emotions, like I am caught up in a flood of desire and love that makes madness seem faint." Mother stroked my cheek and kissed me gently. "I need time to sort all this out." Mother leaned her face into my chest and I could feel her warm tears, running down my chest. "We should be getting back, son. Please, take me home."

I nodded and bent down and kissed Mother again, a soft, gentle and chaste kiss. But when I tried to withdraw, Mother's hands flew up to hold my head in place. She continued the kiss, making it deeper and more passionate, her tongue making its way inside my mouth to dance and caress mine. It was a kiss of desperate passion that said much in its silence, and promised much. I could have died happy amidst that kiss, and I still dream of it today, as we stood with our lips joined and our half naked bodies pressed together.

Silently, we walked back up the beach, pausing only to retrieve our shoes. Not a word was spoken between us, but I could see that Mother was in deep thought, her eyes distant as she tried to work out all that we were moving towards becoming in her mind. I had no doubts about how I felt and what I wanted with my mother. My concerns were primarily wrapped around my fear that our steadily growing incestuous relationship would prove too unconventional and frightening for Mother, and that she would flee from it.

---

An hour later, we approached the house from the side, and made our way past the pool and into the kitchen. It was dimly lit, with a single flickering lamp that provided enough light to guide our way to the stairs. We were just at the base of the stairs when an almost unearthly moan echoed from the direction of the servants' quarters.

My penis twitched as I immediately recognized the now familiar sound of Antonia in orgasm.

Mother stopped and turned her head, her eyes wide as she whispered, "My God. What was that?"

In a heartbeat, I mulled over a multitude of responses but I knew immediately that this was a moment that could change our lives forever. Gently, I took Mother by the elbow and said quietly, "Come with me."

We reversed course and made our way down the hall to Antonia's quarters. Twice more, Antonia's wordless sighs of incestuous pleasure washed over us as we approached the door. Standing behind Mother, I reached out for the door knob.

Mother tried to stop me with her hand, looking up and back at me and shaking her head violently, fear of what lay behind the door evident on her face.

I smiled and mouthed the words, "It's ok. Watch." Then I silently opened the door enough to give us a view of what I knew would be going on.

Antonia was naked, her body gleaming in the flickering light of a dozen candles. Her body was spread out on the bed, with her hands clamped around the rails of her headboard. Her back was arched and her huge breasts rolled as she squired. Hector's head bobbed between his mother's legs, and his erection dangled between his thighs as he knelt on the bed, orally pleasing Antonia.

Mother gave a whispery gasp and tried to back away, but bumped against me. I brought my hands up to her upper arms and held her there, to gaze in shock and wonder at the sight of another mother and son in the throes of passion.

In her ear, I whispered, "Watch, Mother. See what they share."

Mother clamped a hand over her mouth, not wanting an outburst to betray our voyeurism.

Antonia moaned again, one hand releasing the headboard to grasp a massive breast. Her fingers plucked at the swollen nipple as she keened, "Oh, Hector. So sweet, my love!" She rolled her hips, bucking her pussy against Hector's busy mouth.

He noisily slurped at his mother's heavy flowing juices, making a chuckling, pleased sound as he licked and tongued his mother. Suddenly, Antonia's feet dug into the bed and she pushed her hips up, making her whole body lift off the bed.

Hector's mother sobbed, "Making Mama cummmmm!" as an orgasm swept her away.

She opened her eyes to look down between her splayed breasts, and watched with furious love, at her son between her thighs. Hector intensified his efforts, anxious to spur his mother's orgasm to new heights with his mouth and tongue. Antonia's body collapsed back onto the mattress and hunched forward, her hands clawing at her son's shoulders. Like a lithe jungle cat, Hector rose up and pounced forward between his mother's thighs, in a single fluid motion.

Mother shivered in my arms as she saw Hector's long, hard cock clearly for a brief moment, before he expertly slipped it into Antonia's glistening sex and buried himself completely in his mother's pussy.

A small cry of shock escaped Mother's mouth, but was lost in the shriek of Hector's mother, as her son filled her with his erect penis. I felt my mother sag back against me, only to stiffen as she felt my hardness pressing into her backside. Mother shuddered as we watched Hector begin to fuck Antonia with a series of rapid strokes, his hips thrusting forward and buttocks flexing, each time his cock sank into his mother to the hilt.

Antonia threw her arms around her son's shoulders. Her nails slowly dragged across Hector's skin, leaving red scratches, while her legs rose up. She curled her legs around Hector's hips, heels digging into his buttocks, to urge her son to fuck her harder and deeper.

Mother's hand never left her mouth, stifling any moans she might make. Though I could hear her breathing, a ragged whistling through her nose.

Almost without thinking, I slowly moved my right hand forward, off my mother's arm, and cupped her breast, unfettered in the light green dress. I was thrilled to find my mother's nipple long and swollen. Mother seemed to lean back slightly against me, and the movement pressed her backside into my erection, couching my stiffness between her buttocks. I slowly and gently tugged and pinched my mother's erect nub with my fingers.

As the scent of human sweat, infused with the aroma of Antonia's sex, wafted through the partially open door, I felt Mother's hips begin to move in time with Antonia's. We continued watching Hector's sensual dance of incestuous love with his mother, as my mother's buttocks rubbed against the bulge in my pants.

Hector drove his cock deep, grinding his crotch against his mother's mound, and bent over Antonia to seek his mother's lips. As they kissed passionately, his face smeared her chin with her own juices. Their groans and the wet noises of their joined mouths blended with the gyrations of their joined genitals, to create an erotic performance that we watched.

Their bodies writhed together, and the carnal motions of making love were interwoven with Antonia occasional gasping, "Fuck me, Hector... Yes, fuck your mother... Love me as I love you!"

Then Antonia began to convulse underneath her son, as an orgasm suddenly swept over her. With sweat shining on his back, Hector rose up and began to rapidly thrust his cock in and out of his mother again.

Antonia began to shriek those same strange words I had heard on earlier occasions, "Matre Tiambo un Umano un Estasum Victre Diablas!"

With the words came a sensation of powerful energy emanating from Antonia's body. It infused the entire room, and washed over us, enhancing our own desires and emotions. Antonia clawed at her son's shoulders as he frantically fucked his mother. Her breasts bounced violently, as carnal ecstasy overwhelmed her.

Antonia's chant became shrill as she cried out, "Matre Tiambo un Umano un Estasum Victre Diablas!" again and again.

Hector let out a bull's roar, signaling his climax. His buttocks stiffened as he plunged deep into his mother's wet, clasping pussy and began to ejaculate. I could see his testicles rising with each burst of hot semen that he deposited into Antonia..

Mother quivered violently against me. She half-whispered and half-moaned into her palm, "Oh my god!"

We watched as mother and son slowed their undulations and gasps of orgasmic delight.

The pair became a heavy breathing mass of tangled limbs and joined bodies. Antonia's heels slid from the back of her son's thighs and her feet fell to the bed, legs spread wide. Hector's hips moved back slowly, as his still erect penis slipped partially out of her, then he sank deep inside his mother once again. Antonia moaned happily, spreading her legs wide as her hands moved down to grasp her son's buttocks.

The sight seemed to overwhelm Mother. With a nearly silent gasp, she broke free of my embrace and stumbled back up the hallway. I quietly closed the door and followed, wanting to keep Mother in my arms. I worried that it had been too much for her.

Mother moved quickly and quietly despite being unsteady on her feet, wobbling back and forth between the walls of the narrow hallway. It was only as she ascended the stairs, that her sobs broke free, and I heard her crying. One of her hand's was at her mouth and other gripped the railing. I climbed the stairs and caught up with Mother just shy of her bedroom door, and reached out to touch her shoulder as she fumbled at the door knob.

She turned at my touch, a mad mixture of emotions on her face, tears running down her face. Words tumbled from her mouth in a chaotic jumble as if there was so much to say and she couldn't decide what to focus on. "That was... They were... My god, is that what we would..." Mother paused and looked at me with both horror and longing. "John... Is that what you want us to become?" Her hands pressed against my chest as if she were claiming me while preparing to push me away.

"They are lovers, Mother," I said in a rush, "Just as we are meant to be lovers!"

Mother shook her head, looking away from me as if to deny that we had such desires within ourselves. "Mother and son... That is incest... Madness." She reached out to caress my face. "I love you, John... But this... Is wrong."

"It's not wrong, Mother!" I said almost in anger. My hands were on her upper arms and I was squeezing them so hard, I probably left marks. "Antonia and Hector share love... Great love. A love that can exist between us as well, if we're brave enough to seize it. I love you, Mother!"

Mother trembled in my grip and shook her head, even as she placed fingers over my mouth to shush me. "What you want.. It's a love that demands too much. It would consume us. We would be burnt to a crisp if we yielded to it. We already have crossed too many lines, John." Mother shook her head and whimpered, "I am your mother."

Passion, infused with anger, swelled within my heart until I thought I might simply explode. "Then let us burn, Mother! I'd rather die embraced like that, with you, consumed by our love, than live a thousand years without you in my arms!"

I kissed Mother then, hard and passionately, forcing my tongue into her mouth to find hers. She relented a little, kissing me back for long, sweet seconds. Her tongue sought out mine and returned my passion.

Then she was pushing me back, one hand finding the door knob and opening it, her other hand pushing me back as she pleaded, "No... Not now, John. I love you, but I cannot... I need to think."

Her eyes held such pain and need that they stayed me from pushing into Mother's bedroom and taking her there and then. I looked at her, holding out my arms as I wordlessly implored her.

Mother shook her head, blew me a kiss and said, "I love you, son," before closing the door.

The sound of the lock turning, sent a stabbing pain through my heart. I do not know how long I stood before her door, hoping and praying she would open it again.

Finally, feeling defeat weighing me down, I retreated to my room, throwing myself on my bed, aching to find solace in sleep, wanting to exorcise the unfulfilled desire and love for my mother from my heart and soul, and feeling that without her love, I could not survive.

Sleep was slow in coming and when it did, instead of the carnal dreams of the past nights, it was a tortured sleep. Images of Mother reaching out to me, yet always just beyond my grasp haunted me.

---

I awoke to the sound of thunder and rain outside my window.

Finally the grayness of the dawn rose, and I watched and listened to the torrential rainfall. The island of the accursed Isprey, was illuminated often by terrible jagged bolts of lightning. I brooded over my actions, cursing myself for taking Mother to see Antonia and Hector last night. I castigated myself for likely having destroyed our relationship beyond repair.

My fears were not alleviated when I went down for breakfast and found only Antonia, in her servant's uniform.

She said that Hector was sleeping in, and with the weather, there would be no working outside today. She also informed me that Mother was in seclusion, taking to her bed. "Missus Halloran informs me she is taken ill again, and wishes to not be disturbed," Antonia told me solemnly as she sat breakfast down beside me.

I nodded and sighed before muttering in a defeated tone, "I understand."

Antonia slipped into a chair beside me. Her massive, barely restrained breasts brushed my arm, sending a ripple of desire through me that reminding me of how much I wanted my mother.

She murmured, "I am not sure you were wise in your actions last night, John. But such is the rashness of youth." She reached out to run her fingers through my hair. "Though I am also not sure that it wasn't the right thing to do... to allow your mother to confront the beauty and enormity of the life you both are moving towards."

My face burned with embarrassment as I stared down at my lap and replied, "You knew we were there?"

Antonia chuckled. "Absolutely. I could sense your presence. And your desire and lust for each other." She leaned over, her breasts mashing against my arm, and whispered into my ear, "I could smell your mother's lust for you, John."

I turned and looked at her, almost startled at the fire burning in her eyes as she smiled at me. If sex could be incarnate, I knew that Antonia was a form that it would take. "Have I ruined things for Mother and me?" I asked plaintively.

Antonia took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I don't know, John. I doubt it. There is a powerful love between you. The poets would name it true love, and I believe that true love can never be denied. Perhaps it will be yours and her choice to make. Or perhaps the choice will be made for you. But in the end, I think you and your mother will know love."

She leaned in and pressed her lips against mine, gently kissing me, before rising to her feet again. Stroking my hair, Antonia said, "For now, be patient, young master. Give your mother time to sort things out." She glanced towards a window as thunder rumbled over us. "Today, rest. There can be no work in this storm. Rest and keep faith. Your mother will find her way to you."

And so the day passed.

As the rain poured down in buckets, I whiled away the hours, spending what seemed an eternity on my bed, agonizing over my actions, worried that I had thrown away my chance to know Mother completely as a lover. I sat in the living quarters, reading my Mickey Spillane books without comprehending a word, one ear focused on the slightest of sounds coming from my mother's bedroom, and hoping she would emerge from her self-imposed isolation.

The rain seemed to be neverending. It was still raining heavily into the night as I took supper with Antonia and Hector. And the rain continued as they retired to their room and I to mine, envying what I knew would be a night of passionate lovemaking on their part.

Twice that night, I started to travel downstairs that I might watch them. But I could not bring myself to be reminded of what they shared, which I was bereft of. I masturbated, but could not find release. Even sleep denied me the pleasure of potential incestuous dreams.

---

I awoke early the next morning to the continued  sounds of thunder and torrential rain.

Again, Hector and I spent the day in idle frustration. We played chess several times, too evenly matched to gain decisive results. Mother failed to make an appearance, and several times I climbed the stairs intending to pound on her door until she opened and yielded herself to me. But Antonia's words echoed in my mind, counseling me to be patient and allow things to unfold as they were meant to be.

The highlight of that second rainy day was watching Antonia cow Father into retreat. He had emerged in an agitated state, demanding that Hector and I venture into the storm to continue clearing the dig site. Despite his anxiousness to see the alleged altar unveiled, Antonia stormily came to our defense and sent him scurrying back to his study amidst a flurry of curses in English and her native language.

In late afternoon, as the gray skies began to darken, Hector summoned me to venture out to the pool.

To our amusement and dismay, it had begun to fill with rainwater, giving us a vision of what it might look like when we finally would get it operational. Having scoured nearly all the algae and scum, the rainwater was nearly clear, and we both laughed that we might take our first dip into the pool in a day or two, if the rain would end.

Evening brought no sign of Mother. Again, I had a restless night, filled with lurid thoughts of how Antonia and Hector were spending their night, and how badly I wanted the same with my mother. Alas, my dreams were again bereft of the temporary illusion of Mother and myself locked in intimate expressions of love and lust.

Continued in Chapter 5

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