Jessie's Wedding Night

On Jessie's wedding night, long held family secrets are exposed

Jesse's Wedding Night

Chapter 01

"Mom, you and Dad have had WAY too much to drink. You shouldn't be driving. Carl can drop you off after he drops Harold and me at the airport motel."

Carl Iverson's eyes rolled to the heavens, praying for the gods to intervene. As if it was not bad enough that he had to chauffeur his sister and her THIRD husband around. Now, he also had to get his tipsy parents home.

"We can manage, Jessie! It's not that far to our place."

His mother, Cleo Iverson, had her eyes half-closed. One hand rested on the banquet table to keep her from falling to the floor. She was typically a staid, colorless, deeply religious woman. However, she was also a fifty-year-old with a low tolerance for alcohol.

After one glass of wine, she began slurring her words. Two glasses and she was the life of the party. Three glasses of wine, and she became the Harlot of Babylon! She became a sexual libertine with no inhibitions and an insatiable sexual appetite. She and her husband knew this and carefully limited her alcohol intake. However, the festivities associated with her daughter's wedding had her exceeding her limited alcohol intake.

Her deeply repressed sexual fantasies, particularly those about her son, rose to the top.

Her husband, James, was not in much better shape. He sat in a folding chair with his legs sprawled in front of him. The cummerbund of his rented tuxedo lay on the floor next to him. The ruffled dress shirt was pulled from the tuxedo pants, and he lay against the chair's backrest with his mouth open, snoring.

Carl fixed his sister with a baleful eye. He had reluctantly agreed to drive her and her newly minted husband to the airport on the other side of town. Now, he would have to drive back across town to drop off his parents.

The cleanup crew was busy breaking down chairs and tables around them. Aside from them, there were only Jessie, Harold, and his parents. Harold stood in the middle of the floor, swaying and grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

Jessie walked over to her 28-year-old brother, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him deeply. Carl felt a hint of her tongue before she pulled away. She lowered her voice so that only he could hear her.

"Please, little brother! Please do it for me." She leaned in close and whispered even lower. "And for our baby!"

And there was that! Jessie was ten weeks pregnant with her brother's baby. Her marriage was a rushed affair to legitimize the baby in the eyes of their strait-laced parents.

Her two previous marriages ended because of her obsession with him. At thirty, she could not recall a time when she did not desire her brother.

"Okay, Jess," Carl sighed, "But this is going to cost you!"

Jessie glanced around furtively. Then she leaned forward and licked the inside of her brother's ear.

"As always, baby, I'll save my ass for you."

Jessie broke away from her brother. She was a big, voluptuous woman, standing at 5'7" and just below 180 pounds. Her 36C size stood proudly on her chest. Although of Irish descent, she had what her brother referred to as a "Sista Booty." It jutted out from her waist and curved at her full, firm hips.

"Come on, Harold, Mom, Dad, it's time to go!"

"Harold, help Carl get Dad in the car. Mom, where are your shoes?"

Carl smiled as his assertive sister took charge. She was always bossy, except when Carl tied her to the bed and spanked her with her hairbrush. Her assertiveness helped her rise to senior management in a globally recognized Fortune 100 IT company.

Chapter 02

The snow fell heavily as Carl drove up the interstate toward the airport. His mother sat next to him on the other side of the center console, sound asleep and snoring loudly. Her dress had ridden up, exposing the tops of her thigh-high stockings.

As she slept, her hand sensuously rubbed the inside of her thigh. Occasionally, she moaned as it slipped under her dress as she touched herself.

Carl shot glances at his mother's wanton display. Like the rest of the family, he was aware of his mother's low alcohol tolerance. This was one of the few times he saw its effect.

Behind him, Jessie and Harold sat next to each other. His father was passed out in the third-row seat.

Though the newlyweds sat close together, the emotional chasm between them was as wide as the Grand Canyon. Harold felt an unsettling sense that he had been pushed into a union he wasn't sure he wanted.

Privately, Jessie hated herself for not having the nerve to admit to her parents and the world that the man driving was the only man for her. However, there was propriety to think about and her career.

As Carl pulled into the parking garage of the plush airport hotel, the weather report on the radio warned of a winter storm with heavy snow accumulations and blowing winds causing drifting.

"Shit! Our flight tomorrow will probably be delayed."

"Maybe it will be okay, dear. Sometimes they..."

"Shut up, Harold!"

"Yes, dear!"

Carl smirked as he guided the big SUV into a space adjacent to the elevators. There was little doubt about who wore the pants in that family.

"Look, Carl, maybe you guys should stay until the plows clear the expressway."

"I don't know, sis, this could go on all night.".

Jessie leaned forward. She placed her hand on her brother's shoulder and lightly squeezed. "Please, baby! For me!"

Jessie quickly assumed control.

"Harold, you get my father out of the back. Carl, get Mom. I'll ring for someone to come and get the bags."

Carl walked around the SUV and opened the door on his mother's side. She mumbled incoherently when he shook her. Cleo turned sideways on the seat with her legs akimbo. The twisting in the seat caused her dress to ride up around her waist, exposing her underwear.

She wore light blue bikini-cut panties that matched her organza dress. They were stretched tight around her hairy pussy, creating a cameltoe.

"Come on, Stud! Help your mother out!"

As he pulled her from the car, Cleo threw her arms around her son's neck and kissed him deeply. They made out briefly while Harold lifted his father-in-law's bulk from the third-row seat. Jessie was distracted, repeatedly punching the elevator call button.

Carl pressed his mother against the side of the SUV. They kept kissing as they moved against each other.

Carl, the soberest one in the group, came to his senses first. He lowered his mother to the ground and smacked her on her jiggly butt, propelling her toward the elevator.

"Stop it, Momma. We agreed years ago never to let ourselves go again."

"I lied," Cleo slurred and reached for her son's crotch.

Carl ruefully shook his head at his mother's antics. In twenty-eight years, he had only experienced her being drunk and acting out once.

Chapter 03

It was shortly after his eighteenth birthday. He and some friends had spiked the punch with some cheap vodka at a neighborhood block party.

Her antics then had a decidedly sexual component that was aimed at him. Carl was behind a stand of trees, getting a hit on a reefer his buddy had given him. As bad luck would have it, his mother saw him enter the trees and followed him.

"Carl, what are you doing back here?" Cleo's speech was slurred, and she staggered as she walked.

Carl froze. His deeply religious parents railed against the evils of street drugs; his mother had caught him toking. There would be hell to pay!

He was stunned when she moved in so close that he could feel her breath on his face.

"You have really grown," his mother said, stroking his chest.

"Uh...yes, Momma." He surreptitiously dropped the pot onto the grass.

"You're not momma's little baby anymore; you're momma's big man."

Cleo threw her arms around her son's neck, plastered her body to his, and gave him a long, tongue-filled kiss. She rotated her plump hips against his thigh as she did.

Carl's eyes were bucked as he struggled to escape his mother's embrace. The reefer had him disoriented so that when he tried to push his mother away, he pushed against her breasts.

"You like your momma's big jugs? I breastfed you. You want some titty now?"

She grabbed the zipper of her romper and pulled it down below her waist, exposing her massive, serviceable white bra struggling to support her E-cups.

"Momma, what are you doing?"

Carl was frantic. He looked around, worried about what his friends and neighbors would say if they saw him and his partially undressed mother.

Cleo stepped closer to her son, reached out and grabbed his cock through his board shorts.

"MOMMA!"

"Mmm! You're bigger than your father."

Like any 18-year-old, a stiff breeze could give him an erection. His mother mauling his cock caused him to get hard. He grabbed Cleo's hands to pull them off his cock. She stumbled back, and her romper slipped to her ankles.

"Motherfucker," Carl exclaimed.

"If you want to," his mother said, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing him again.

Succumbing to his mother's drunken seduction, his hands dropped to her meaty behind, and he squeezed.

"That's more like it. Momma loves her baby." She slipped her hand between them, unzipped his shorts, and extracted his cock. She stroked it as she French kissed her son.

Carl was confused by his mother's actions. He was also terrified someone would step into this shallow stand of trees and see them. However, above all else, he was horny. His fantasy woman, the one whom he spilled seemingly quarts of semen into tissue, his socks, and lately her panties, was coming on to him.

He slipped one hand into the waistband of her panties and pushed them down below her ass. His other hand explored the hairy forest covering her sex. He had no trouble finding her honey hole; it was gaping open and dripping wet.

Mother and son mutually masturbated each other while behind them, the music played, and the voices of the people wafted through the trees.

Carl was technically a virgin. His sexual experience was limited to making out with his dates at the movies. A few times he and his bestie stroked each other off while watching internet porn.

He had a hair trigger, and his mother's ministration was getting him close to cumming. His inebriated mother was also close. As her son's finger fucked her, his thumb was rubbing her clit.

"That's it, baby! Finger fuck your mother! Make her cum,"

"Oh shit, Momma," Carl exclaimed as he came, squirting over his mother's belly, pussy and panties.

"Fuck! Fuck!" Cleo exclaimed as her orgasm rocked her body. Her legs wouldn't support her, and she collapsed into Carl, smearing his seed over them both.

For several moments, they embraced, overcome by the intensity of their orgasm. Carl's finger slid between her ass cheeks and pressed against her anus. It was something his friend did to him sometimes. He liked it and he hoped his mother would also.

Cleo still held her son's cock in her hand, lightly stroking it. Her big ass pumped back, burying Carl's middle finger to the second knuckle in her bowels. She came again, slumping against her son.

The intensity of her second orgasm sobered her. Initially, she went with it when her son fingered her asshole. Her son pulled his finger from her anus and pushed her to the ground. She was on her back in the grass with her romper hanging off one leg and her panties lying on the ground next to them.

She watched in a lustful daze as her son aimed the most enormous cock she had ever seen at her entrance. She felt the pressure of him entering her, and her legs opened wider.

She pressed back, feeling him fill her. "Oh my God," she moaned.

Carl groaned as he bottomed out in his mother's pussy and his balls slapped against her ass. He took his first tentative stroke in his first pussy.

His mother pumped up, burying her son's cock deep in her hole, the hole only his father had been in. Mother and son briefly and drunkenly fucked. For a few halcyon moments, they were the beast with two backs.

The sun beat down on them as they rutted. The ping of an aluminum bat hitting a baseball and people cheering sounded from beyond the stand of trees.

Suddenly, the alcohol fog lifted, and Cleo realized who she was with and where they were.

"Oh my God! Stop! Stop, Carl!"

Carl was on his knees with his mother's legs on his shoulders. His mother's cunt was so tight he feared he would cum before he really fucked her. Her scream caused him to stop.

He looked down at the sight that would fill his mind for years to come; his mother's pussy spread wide by his shaft, a whitish liquid leaking around the sides and her enormous clitoris resting on his shaft.

There was an audible pop followed by a long pussy fart when Cleo pushed him off her. His mother scrambled to her feet, simultaneously trying to cover her nakedness and pull up her romper.

She stopped with her romper just below her pussy and saw her son's cum and her pussy juice smeared over her belly.

"Look! I've got your juices all over me."

Carl felt a glacial calm, not knowing its source. He grabbed his babbling mother's arms and shook her.

"Stop yelling, Momma! Someone will hear you and come to see what's going on."

Cleo was sobering up and realized the compromising position they were in. Tears streamed down her face.

"What will your father think? And the pastor will he offer me forgiveness? Oh dear god," she wailed forlornly.

Carl shook his mother hard, trying to get her attention.

"Momma, you can't tell anyone. Imagine the shit storm if anyone finds out."

Cleo nodded, realizing the wisdom of her son's words.

"Now, I'm going to clean us up as best I can, okay?"

Fear made his mother docile. Cleo's emotions were all over the map. She and her son had just fucked. Not thirty feet away, the members of her church were having their annual picnic. Discovery would be disastrous.

She was aware but indifferent that her son was seeing her nearly nude body, something only her husband and her doctor had ever seen. The dull ache in her pussy from having her son's donkey dick in her was distracting. She cautiously observed her son squatting and picking up her panties.

The effects of the alcohol from the spiked punch were diminishing. However, it was still impacting her judgment; otherwise, she would have never let her son clean her up.

Squatting with his mother's pussy at eye level, Carl used her panties to wipe their juices from their bodies. Her pussy was fragrant, and gaping open to revel her inner pinkness. A clearish liquid bubbled in her honey hole and was leaking down her thighs. Overcome by the intoxicating aroma, he leaned forward and kissed his mother's pussy.

It was the first time anyone kissed Cleo's pussy. She grabbed her son's head and held it tightly to her sex. She was experiencing sensations she had never felt before. Her knees weakened, and she slumped against Carl. Her body quaked as another orgasm rocked her body.

Emulating what he did with his freind's cock, Carl took his mother's clit in his mouth and sucked it. Then he slid his tongue so deep in her hole that it ached at the root.

"Please, Carl, please stop!"

Ever the obedient son, he pulled back. He smacked his lips and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood. It was his first taste of pussy and eating pussy would become an addiction because of it.

He finished cleaning them both with her panties. He watched his mother step into her rompers, pull them, and zip them up. They stood for a moment, unsure of what to say. Carl spoke first.

"If you want, I promise I'll never tell anyone about this."

Cleo nodded and added. "This can never happen again."

They both experienced Deja vu moments in the intervening years, wanting to repeat that afternoon amongst the trees. But they didn't, and it was their secret until Jessie's wedding night in the airport motel.

Chapter 04

Cleo tried to exit the SUV, stumbled, fell into her son's arms, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Where are you taking me," she slurred. She clutched her son's cock.

"Momma, stop!" He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "We've kept our secret for ten years. Don't blow it now."

Carl slapped her hand away, then wrapped one of her arms around his neck. He wrapped his free hand around her waist under her heavy E-cups. He recalled checking the laundry hamper years ago. She was 38DD back then.

The elevator opened, and a bellboy exited with a cart for the baggage. He presented Jessie with a key to the bridal suite. When she questioned him, he said that her company had made the reservation.

The elevator was tight with six people, including the bellboy and the baggage. With his hands on her plump hips, Carl steered his mother to the back, and the others piled in behind him. He leaned against the back wall with his arms around his mother's chest, just under her breasts, supporting her bulk.

Cleo slumped, and his hands rode up under her breasts. When he tried to remove his hands, she mumbled something incomprehensible, slumped further, and his hands were cupping his mother's breast. In a drunken stupor she pressed back, pressing her butt into Carl's crotch.

Carl rolled his eyes in exasperation. Throughout his sister's short courtship, wedding preparations, and the wedding itself, his mother had been unusually affectionate with him. She seemed to be having flashbacks to that day at the block party.

After several glasses of wine at the rehearsal dinner, she cornered him in the hallway leading to the bathroom and French-kissed him.

Having had a few drinks himself, he returned the kiss, raised her mid-thigh jean skirt to her waist, slipped his hand inside the waistband of her panties, and slipped them below her ass.

His mother backed him to the wall, raining kisses on him while slipping her hand between them and squeezing his cock.

"Mmm," she moaned. "Gimmee!"

In a moment of clarity, Carl realized that she was drunk, which was why she was overly affectionate. He also knew their being drunk would be a poor excuse if caught.

"Momma, we need to stop!

With her panties around her hips, she stumbled and nearly fell when he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back to arms length.

"You ain't no fun," she said, spraying her son with saliva droplets.

"Momma, you need to stop!"

Cleo snatched away from her son's hands. She fumbled while lifting her dress, adjusting her panties, and staggering off to the ladies' room.

Carl ruefully shook his head as he watched her stagger down the hall. He had many women, including his years-long affair with his sister, and a few men in the years since the block club party. His mother was still the best.

Chapter 05

The room was a suite with two rooms. The small foyer opened into a larger space containing a French Colonial loveseat and a matching chair. Beyond that were glazed double doors leading to the bedroom. On the coffee table in front of the loveseat sat a large basket of fruit, a magnum of Dom Perignon, and a bottle of Alizé.

Harold carefully lowered Carl's father into the chair. He immediately curled up and went back to sleep.

Cleo Iverson resembled a ragdoll as her son placed her on the loveseat. She ended up sprawled on her back, one leg resting on the loveseat and the other on the floor, with her dress hiked up around her waist. Bleary-eyed, she glanced around, tugged ineffectually at her dress hem, and then drifted back to sleep.

"This is a hell of a way to start a honeymoon," Carl opined.

He looked out the window and could barely see the airport in the distance for the driving snow.

"At least I know the most important people in my life are safe."

Brother and sister exchanged a meaningful look.

"Well, dear," the newlywed Harold chimed in, "I think I'll turn in. Are you coming?"