Josh Knows Best Ch 11

Josh and Janice's story comes to an end.

Thanks to JordanJohnson for his editorial assistance.

===

Mom was in the living room when I got home. She looked better. A lot better. She was naked. Her dark hair hung loosely around her face.

When I entered the room she rose, crossed the room, and kissed me. Her fingers clutched at my hair as her tongue invaded my mouth. The feel of her hard nipples through my shirt erased any worry I had about the state of my breath.

My cock was hard before I regained enough control to shed my clothes. I devoured her nipples. Sucking. Biting. Flicking. My hands pulled at her ass before one found its way to her pussy.

She came, standing in the middle of our small living room, my mouth ravaging her nipple and three fingers fucking her pussy. My hand was soaked. Her thighs glistened.

I lifted her in my arms and carried her to the sofa. Turning her, I lifted one of her legs to rest on the arm of the sofa. I put a hand between her shoulder blades and pushed her forward. She supported herself on her arms, facing the window, able to watch the quietness of our neighborhood through the gap behind the panels, as I guided the head of my cock to her cunt.

I entered her with one long full stroke. She thrust back against me with a groan. I saw one of her hands leave the back of the sofa and begin to pull at a breast. I pulled out, all the way then drove my cock home again. And again.

Our timing was perfection. She slammed back as I drove into her. She stood now, back arched. One hand at her breasts. The other between her legs, smacking, not rubbing, her clit.

"Fuck me, baby. Harder."

I leaned forward and wrapped both arms around her waist and jerked her onto my cock. Each thrust lifting her foot off the floor.

I lasted no more than a minute but sweat flew from our bodies, sparkling in the lamp light before falling into darkness.

I felt my balls contracting, my cock swelling. I lifted her, arching my own back, holding her in the air, feet dangling. I roared in triumph as I empty myself into her body.

"Oh fuck, I'm so close. Fuck," Janice panted.

I turned, still holding her in the air with my arms and my cock and dropped onto the sofa. I lifted her. Turned her. Picked her up with my hands around her waist and lowered her onto my upturned face.

I plunged my tongue into her cunt. I tilted my head and shove my tongue into her ass, nose buried in her pussy. I struggled to breathe through my mouth. I went back to her pussy.

She came again as I tongue fucked her while rubbing the tip of my nose over her clit with a finger in her ass.

We collapsed. I sagged into the couch with her panting body draped over my chest and face. I turned my head to one side, her pussy and my cum running down the side of my neck, and gasped for air. I was still gasping for air when Mom slid down my body.

She stopped to kiss me, to lick at my chin and face. She teased my nipples and then, now kneeling in front of the couch, took my wet, limp cock into her mouth. She squeezed at my balls, sucking at my cock, draining me.

"God, I love that you're young," she purred against the side of cock. "I won't have long to wait before you're hard again. Before you can take my ass."

Her words pulled a moan from my still heaving chest. I had never seen Janice like this. She was always passionate when we had sex but this was different. I was too lost in my own desire to notice at the time.

"Turn around," she ordered. "Kneel on the couch." I did as she asked. "Knees further apart."

She reached between my legs and pulled my cock back and began to suck it again. She let it go. Sucked a ball into her mouth. Cock again. My other ball. Then she grabbed my ass cheeks and spread them wide.

She pressed her mouth over my pucker and began to tongue me. Face pressed deep in my crack, she moved one hand to my cock, squeezing, stroking.

I started to protest but my words turned to guttural nonsense as her tongue penetrated my ass. She had played around with my butt before but never with such wild abandon.

The ferocity of her attentions and the intensity of the sensations, along with youth, had my cock growing hard within a few minutes. She fucked me, no other word for it, with her tongue and stroked me until I was hard.

"Trade positions, baby," she said, pulling back, then biting the cheek of my ass. Hard.

I cried out, then groaned.

"You like that baby?" she murmured before doing it again, this time biting and sucking.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck," I babbled.

"More later, baby. Switch. I want you to eat my ass then fuck it. I'm all clean down there. I had all afternoon to get ready for you. Now fuck me, Josh. Fuck me with your mouth, your fingers, your cock. I want it all."

I did my best to oblige. I, we, were out of control. I spread her and shoved my face into her crack, unconcerned about what my unshaven cheeks were going to her soft skin. All I was concerned about was getting my mouth on her sweet, brown ass.

I rimmed her. I shoved my tongue into her. I tongued her ass and finger fucked her. I finger fucked her ass.

One finger.

Two.

Three.

Her hole, her crack was slick with my spit. I use my other hand to pull the wetness from her cunt and spread it over and inside her ass.

Then, as she had requested, I buried my cock in her ass.

I had imagined we had been reduced to rutting before, early in our relationship. I had been mistaken. That night, on the living room sofa, we left our humanity behind. We were no longer lovers; our deep love for each other was temporarily irrelevant. We were no longer mother and son.

We were Male and Female.

We were consumed by raw, unpurified, naked sexual desire. Only the deepest, oldest parts of our brains were working.

We fucked in the most elemental sense of the word.

In the course of my life since, this has happened again, but very,

very

rarely.

I bit her on the back of the shoulder as I shoved my cock deep and exploded.

Janice, my mother, buried her face into a sofa cushion and screamed. She reached behind her body and buried her nails into my thighs.

Once more, we collapsed, utterly emptied, with strength enough to do no more than gasp for air, hearts pounding. Slowly we slide sideways, ending up wedge between the back of the sofa and one of its arms.

Gradually, we regained our breath and our sanity. I groaned when I saw Mom's shoulder was smeared with blood where I had bitten her. I kissed the wound, licked it clean and kissed it some more. Beneath me, Mom whimpered softly.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," I whispered. "So, sorry."

She turned beneath me; eyes bright. "Don't you dare say that. I loved every second. Every thrust. Every nip. Every bite. You gave me exactly what I wanted. Needed. Craved. Do not insult me or my desires with apologies or regret."

She held my eyes until I nodded, both relieved and awed.

She kissed me softly. "Um, I can taste myself on your lips," she sighed. "Let's go take a shower. Nap and repeat."

I gazed at her wide-eyed. "Seriously?"

"Goddamn right I am."

With that she pushed against my chest lightly and I managed to get off the couch without falling. I helped Mom up. The insides of her legs glistened.

"We'll have to steam clean the couch," I observed.

"Fuck the couch," this new woman in my mother's body retorted. She sat back down on the edge of the couch, as if to prove her lack of concern, and put both hands around the back of my thighs. She leaned forward and began to lick.

I pulled away, unsure of what she was doing. Only then did I see I was not the only one to draw blood. The front of each thigh bore the circular gouges of her nails. I could see new drops welling from the marks she had licked clean.

I started to pull away but she pulled me back. She licked my wounds.

Our humanity had returned, somewhat abashed, at least on my part, but the animals we had wakened had one more task, cleansing the wounds our mating had inflicted.

At some point we made it to the bathroom. We bathed each other, gently, soothing ourselves in the warm water and each other's embraces.

We slept; waking together, as if somehow our internal clocks were now synced.

Silently, Janice climbed atop of me. She guided me home. We held hands and smiled at each other as she rode my cock. I came first. She lifted herself off my cock and moved to straddle my head.

I brought her to her climax with gently licks and sucks of her clit. Tenderness replacing ferocity. I no longer gave a thought to the fact I had just cum inside her.

We slept again.

I woke lying on my stomach, Janice was behind me, gently trailing her fingers over my back and butt.

My thighs ached from her scratches. Despite how wet she had been, my cock felt raw.

I had never felt so at peace before, possibly never since, as I drifted back into sleep.

In that way she had, Janice knew when I awoke.

"I'm pregnant," she stated as matter of fact as if observing the coffee was ready.

†

Before I could begin to react, she climbed out of bed and left. I struggled to the side of the bed, sat for a moment and then followed, morning wood swaying from side to side as I hurried down the hall to the kitchen. Janice was making coffee. To all appearances, utterly unperturbed by what she had said in the bedroom. I began to wonder if I had been dreaming.

"Did you..."

"Not now, my love. Make us some of your wonderfully fluffy pancakes. No bacon. I think the smell might trigger my stomach. I want to try to have a nice breakfast and then we'll talk. Okay?"

I nodded. Janice stepped over to me, pausing to kiss me on the cheek. She playfully grabbed my cock. "Why don't you go pee, wash your hands and bring us a couple of towels to sit on?"

"We could just sit on the couch. It's wrecked already," I replied.

Janice, my beautiful lover, and extraordinary mother laughed and my heart seized.

Thirty minutes later, towels appropriately placed, we sat down to eat. Janice skipped the butter and only had a dab of syrup but ate two pancakes before pushing her plate aside. I finished my four. She had skipped coffee as well, sticking to tea.

I made her another cup, extra sugar and refill my mug.

"Grab your towel," she said as I handed her the tea.

"Where we going?"

"Outside. Picnic table."

"Aren't you worried the neighbors will see us?"

"Nope. Fuck it."

It was lovely outside. The sun was just high enough to burn off the chill. I sipped my coffee and marveled at how tanned Janice was and how dark her areolas and nipples had gotten.

God, or the universe, has a sick sense of humor. Janice's breasts were lovely, deserving of worship, yet there would be the instrument of her death.

"Shall we talk?" I asked.

"Not yet. Smell your coffee. The grass. Your body. My body. The wood of the table. Feel it on your butt. Feel the sun. The breeze. Taste your coffee. Your own mouth. Feel, taste, smell, notice everything you can for a few minutes. Then we'll talk."

It was freaky. Janice had somehow reached inside my head and pulled out the experience I had yesterday, at the lake. Remembering the sensation of peace. I did as she suggested.

I had my eyes closed when she began to speak.

"I didn't connect being sick yesterday with the possibility of being pregnant," she began softly. "I was off by a month on my implant. There was so much going on at the end of the spring. School. Us. I realized my mistake last week. I still wasn't worried. I made an appointment to have it replaced. That was yesterday."

She paused. I heard her taking some slow deep breaths. I imagined the air she exhaled crossing the space between us and finding its way into my lungs.

"I was overdue for my yearly physical as well. Dr. Myers always does a pregnancy test before placing an implant. It was positive."

She was silent again. More deep breaths. I did not speak. I knew she had more to say. I had no idea it would change our world more than her pregnancy.

"She found a lump in my breast. She tried to act as if she wasn't worried but she's scheduled me for an ultrasound of the mass and mammograms today."

"I'll come with you."

"No, baby. I appreciate the thought I'm afraid I would just lose it if you were there."

"Sorry, not happening. I'll drive you. I'll wait in the waiting room if you aren't comfortable with me being with you for the test but I'm coming. End of story."

We were holding hands now across the table. Eyes closed, I did my best to live in the moment, not to panic about the future. Regrets about the past were not an issue. Never had them. Never will.

"What about the baby?" I asked. "How far are you?"

"Hard to say. I'm having an ultrasound for that as well. Based on when the implant was finally empty, probably six weeks or so."

"What are you going to do?"

"If I'm that early, or if there's something wrong with the fetus there's a chance I could miscarry."

"And if you don't?"

"I'll have it. Risks and all."

"Okay," I said and meant it.

"You, Joshua my love, will still go to college in a couple weeks. I was a single mother before and I can do it again."

"We'll see."

"No, we will not see. College. Period. No arguments."

"What time is your ultrasound?"

"Ten o'clock."

"We'd better get going then."

†

The fetal ultrasound showed she was about seven weeks along. The fetus looked healthy.

The ultrasound of the breast mass was

worrisome

according to Dr. Myers. The mammograms showed masses in both breasts.

Biopsies were scheduled.

Infiltrating ductal carcinoma. In both breasts.

It was unusual. She had no family history. Subsequent genetic testing showed she had a high-risk mutation, a new one, a

de novo

mutation in medical lingo. Nana's genetic testing showed she did not carry the mutation.

We argued but she refused to start chemo until after she delivered. She also delayed surgery until the third trimester. When she felt the risk to the baby was acceptable, she had both breasts removed. Apparently, lumpectomies are not possible without starting chemo at the same time.

Compared to the rest of the shit she was dealing with the pregnancy was easy.

We both loved John Lennon's music but did not want to name our son John. We both hated the nickname, Johnny.

We settled on Sean.

He came out perfect. All his fingers and toes were there. A gorgeous baby. Nana wanted to sell her house and move in with mom. Janice would not hear of it. Nana spent part of the week with mom, the school had daycare, and I was home pretty much every weekend.

Nora and Maggie were constant companions to us both. I've never asked if they knew I'm Sean's father. I think they know, or suspect. They saw Janice and I at the beach the weekend after she broke the news to me. The weekend before her biopsies. She had a bite on her shoulder. I had a hickey on my ass and claw marks on both legs.

Part of me wonders if Janice was proclaiming to them, to the world, we were lovers. I know part of me was.

Mom finally had her PET scan after Sean was born. It was worse than both of us feared. The cancer was in her bones, her liver and her brain. The chemo was ugly.

I put college on hold and Janice did not complain. She fought with all the tenaciousness and ferocity that she had brought to our love.

Maggie, Nora and Nana were magnificent. I would have died without them.

Janice had listed no one as the father on Sean's birth certificate but she made sure in her will I was appointed his legal guardian.

Six cycles of chemo. Six months of puking, no hair. Too sick to make love. All I could go was hold her. On occasion I would help her masturbate.

One night we made love, slow and sweet and good, like we had early on. I knew then she was done fighting. The scans showed the cancer had grown and spread despite the chemo.

She died at home, in our little house, in our bed. I held her from one side. Sean was nestled against her other side. Nana, Nora and Maggie sat by the bed, touching her legs, her side.

The end was weirdly anticlimactic. She breathed out and simply did not breathe again. I laid with my head on her chest. Weirdly, though she was no longer breathing, her heart continued to beat for several minutes.

Nana and the others took Sean into the living room and left me alone with my mother.

I listened as her heart slowed.

In my head, I heard again her sighs and moans, her whispered endearments. I imagined her fingers combing my hair. Remember the time when I fell off my first bike and sliced open my knee and she made it all better with a band-aid and a kiss.

When her heart stopped beating, I cried.

Then, I wiped my face and joined the others.

Epilogue

"Josh, a hand please," Maggie called.

She was down the hall in Sean's room. His red face and a suspicious odor had led her to pluck him from his highchair moments earlier.

"I can go," Nora said, starting to push her chair away from the table.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

She stood and kissed the top of my head. "I'm finished eating. You finish. Besides, I want to see what's so funny."

Sean's giggles echo down the short hallway.

I finished eating and hurried after them, my own curiosity aroused when Nora's laughter mingled with Sean's.

"Quit laughing and help me," Maggie complained, though she too was giggling.

Sean was a mess. So was Maggie.

His diaper had failed to contain a ginormous poo. It was smeared all up his back. The back of his onesie was saturated with poo. Maggie was struggling to get it off him without getting poo in his hair.

So, of course, he had let fly and soaked the front of her shirt with pee.

He found the situation rife with mirth.

Me? Not so much.

I hurried to Maggie's side. "I got the onesie. He's going to need a bath anyway. Keep the diaper over his dingus until I get him out of this and then I'll get him in the tub."

"I think he's done peeing," Maggie offered.

I swear he laughed louder. "I wouldn't be so sure," I replied. "He's a sneaky little turd."

"Nothing little about that turd," Nora chuckled.

Maggie and I rolled our eyes at her.

"Dingus?" Nora asked. "I thought we decided no silly names for body parts? It's his penis not a dingus."

"Not helping at the moment," I muttered.

Nora response was to smile more broadly.

I was getting good at this. Sean was almost fourteen months now. I got the onesie off and into the dirty clothes hamper without getting poo everywhere. Maggie got his butt cleaned up, more or less. By then Nora had the water running in the tub.

We

were getting good at this.

I steadied him with one hand as he stamped his feet in the water swirling in the bottom of the tub. I used the large plastic cup we kept by the bathtub to wash off most of the residual poo before closing the tub's drain and letting it fill for his bath.

I heard Maggie and Nora cleaning up in the kitchen.

I had transferred to Maggie's college. It was closer to our hometown. Not close enough for Nora to live with us but close enough for us to be together every weekend, and one or two nights a week.

It was very close to Nana's home. Mom's death had aged her, but she livened up when she was around Sean. Between the four of us, Maggie and I were able to take a full course load. I would graduate a semester behind her but that was better than I had once imagined.

Being a father is fucking hard. I would not have thought it possible, but my respect and love for my mother has grown. I can only hope to be as good a parent as she was and I have a lot more help.

Even Jeff, and his parents, have adopted Sean.

He has to be one of the most cared for and loved babies in the world. Mom would have been over-joyed.