Mustang Sammie

Again, a fictional, 18+ incestuous tale of mother and son, of dangerous and sometimes impersonal, hot sex, and a sense of disbelief. Please enjoy.

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A cold sweat came over me and I clutched my chest, shocked at my husband's revelation. I was to have no time to collect my thoughts, however, as the next thing I heard and saw was the ferociously screaming voice of my son, launching himself at his father with a WWE type clothesline, knocking him backwards off the pouffe he was sat on.

As I was in all kinds of shock I initially didn't react, and it was my daughter who sprang up to restrain Thomas, as he battered and beat his father's face. "You bastard. You ruin everything, you have the best woman in the world and yet, you fucking take my fucking girlfriend!" he screamed, as Mike lay on the floor, taking the assault without defending himself.

"Thomas!" I shouted, as Joanne tried to pull him away from her Dad, "Thomas! Thomas, you'll kill him!" I shouted, standing and moving to try and get his focus away from Mike.

"Good, it'll be the best for everyone! He fucks everything I love with, let me go!"

My ears caught that last sentence, and as I hoped that my husband and daughter's did not, the gravity of the meaning wasn't lost. Was my son actually in love with me?

Joanne was trying to calm her little brother down, being slightly taller than him, she now had him on the floor and was looking down at him, holding his wrists and telling him to calm down. He looked at her and something flicked in his head, as finally clearing the red mist, then looked at her saying, "Let go of me, I'm fucking getting out of here," and slammed the door behind him, got into his car and sped off.

Immediately knowing where he was going, I said to my husband, "Text your little slut and tell her he's on his way."

I barricaded myself in my bedroom, our bedroom, with my mind now like washing machine. Strangely, I was not angry, but more confused. and my brain was accepting what he had said as fact, with no sense of disbelief. I was perfectly aware of the sense of irony, and the fact that any anger from me would be highly hypocritical.

About twenty minutes later, I went back downstairs and there he was, with his daughter's arm around him, trying to stem what was still a heavy nosebleed, with a towel.

They both looked up at me as I pulled a chair over to sit opposite them, but not too close. "You've really fucked up here," I said and he went to speak but I cut him off, "I don't want any bullshit, Mike. Tell me how it happened and why you're telling me about it now."

"It just happened, I....."

"BULLSHIT!" I screamed at him, "Your cock just fell into her vagina, did it?" I asked in a mocking, sarcastic tone. "I want to know every little detail. Joanne, you can go," I said to my daughter.

"But...."

"I said go. Go phone your boyfriend or try to call your brother, I dunno. Just go. Please."

"Boy, am I glad I spent Christmas with my family and not my boyfriend," my daughter mumbled, stomping out of the room.

I moved, surprising him as I leaned forward and lifted the antiseptic wipes my daughter had got from the kitchen, and started to clean the cut below his right eye where, as it turned out, Thomas had caught him with his watch.

"Why are you helping me?" Mike asked.

"I'm still wanting you to tell me the truth. You can't do that if you fucking die," I spat, strangely trying to bat away the sympathy I was feeling for the, possibly ex, love of my life.

"Are you sure you want to hear this?" he asked.

"Everything! And if I hit you too....it's too bad."

He began,"It happened that night I came home after that 6-week stint."

"You mean the night we met her?" I shouted, and he cowered away, thinking I was going to hit him.

He continued, gesturing to me and him, "We had been making love and, then I went down to start making breakfast."

Sternly, I said, "Go on, and don't spare me any details."

"I needed to get a cloth from the downstairs loo and noticed that I heard a woman peeing, and the only one that I knew of in the house was you so....I crept up behind her, fell to my knees, and......"

"You licked her.....?" I said, as he nodded his head.

"She didn't make a sound, just braced herself on the sink and pushed herself onto my face. I thought it all seemed a bit different, but I was still getting used to the sensation of you being closely shaven."

We were then interrupted by the front door opening, and the voice of my son saying, "Where is he?"

My daughter's voice could then be heard telling him we were still in the living room, and then I heard her exclaim, "Shannon! What the fuck, Thomas? as the room door burst open and in spilled my son, dragging his guilty looking girlfriend in behind him.

He sat her down on the two seater sofa beside his beaten, equally guilty looking father, and she shrieked when she first saw Mike's bloodied face. Thomas then sat on the little pouffe opposite them, taking over as chief interrogator.

"What's he said?" he turned his attention to me, and Mike informed him where we were up to.

"Is this true?" He said looking at her and she nodded, confirming it was true.

"He didn't know it was me, and I didn't know it was him," she chimed in, sobbing profusely. "Next thing I knew, he was......inside me as I.....leaned on the bathroom sink."

I wasn't having that as an explanation, and challenged her, "Every experienced woman knows, regardless of it being dark / light, day / night, what her lover feels like. I..." I dramatically cut off, about to say that I could tell the difference between the two penises in seconds.

Shannon, again looking sheepishly down at her clasped hands, then at Thomas then breathed, "Tom had just taken my virginity, the weekend before."

I looked at Thomas, he nodded his head in confirmation that it was true. My maternal instincts fucked my anger at this point, as the now almost hysterically crying little girl hugged herself with both arms, as Mike leaned as far away from her as he could. I told him to move, and put my arm around her, rubbing her shoulder and, for some reason, telling her, "It'll be alright."

I didn't know if it would be alright. I still needed to know how it progressed, and looked back to my husband's now pasty white face and said, "I think you better take over, what happened next?"

He protested, saying how it wasn't the time or the place, but as I pointed out that everyone but our daughter was affected by this, it was very much appropriate.

He cleared his throat, "Once we.....finished, she just kept her head down, and didn't reply when I spoke. I can't even remember what I said....."

"......You told me, 'Sammie I'll never get tired of fucking this tight pussy,' and that you loved her," Shannon sniffed, obviously not making eye contact with anyone.

At this point, Thomas stormed off upstairs, and Joanne went after her brother. I asked the unhappy couple what happened next, and Shannon started to explain, "He didn't know it was me, you have to believe us."

"What happened next?"

Shannon spoke again, and I knew she was desperately trying not to break up Mike and my marriage. "He genuinely still didn't know he'd did it. I never brought it up the night before you all went on holiday. It was too good a night. Then, I spoke to Tom when he was in Bulgaria, asking him about his Dad after the oil rig disaster. It was the day after that when he told me how Mike was at home on his own."

I now moved further away from her, and scathingly I chastised, "So what, you thought you'd come round for another go?"

Mike then took up the topic, as Shannon was a blubbering mess again. "I was in bed, still quite sore when she knocked the door, looking for that thing for her hair."

I looked at Shannon, scowling and said, "A good excuse!"

She replied, "I needed to talk to him to tell him what he'd done. I was so worried, I thought I might be pregnant, and, I could hardly talk to Tom......"

"I'm guessing you now know Mike fires blanks?" I sneered and she nodded, before I asked her what happened next.

"He answered the door after shouting to give him a minute. Eventually, he opened the door in his pyjamas. They were unbuttoned as he couldn't use his hands very well and, as I made him some lunch, he told me what all had happened during the fire. Then I offered to help him, and as I got halfway up his buttons, he told me how much I looked like his wife."

"How did that make you feel?" I asked, still not believing she hadn't planned to seduce him.

"Nervous," she said, wiping her eyes and continuing, "I looked at him, as I re-lived the experience of him.....doing it to me."

I looked back at Mike, hanging his head in shame, and said, "What happened next?"

"She told me what I had done, and I repeatedly told her I was sorry. I'm still sorry...."

"He started to cry," Shannon took up the story. "He sat down and put his head in his hands, hitting himself on the head and he made his hands sore. So I helped him to check that he hadn't reopened his wound and.....I changed the bandages and....."

"And what?" I somewhat angrily asked.

"I was wearing a low cut top and......I knew he was looking at me. I caught him, he looked squarely up to my eyes from my boobs...."

"I told her I was sorry," Mike interjected, "That I'd had an emotional time, and that she just reminded me so much of my wife. She put her arms around my neck to sooth me, sitting opposite me after inspecting my wounds. The next thing I knew, we were kissing and her.....her breasts were naked - and then.....we were having sex on the sofa."

I was strangely calm, turning the fact that I'm sleeping with my son over and over in my mind.

"How many more times?" I asked, looking at Shannon as she looked away.

"Shannon!" I called, and her eyes looked to mine.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, "Every time he went to work.....he only spent a week there."

"YOU SPENT TWO WEEKS WITH HER AT A TIME?" I bellowed, as the gravity of his deceit hit home, before realising that it almost matched mine.

"You need to go," I said, and Shannon got up. "Not you, him." I confirmed, turning to Mike, "I can't look at you right now, you can sleep in our room. I'm going to be up all night now, I think"

"What about me?" Shannon said, in tears.

"You're staying here until your boyfriend comes back downstairs. Plus, I can keep an eye on you both here.

####

She told me about her illicit trysts with Mike, how he was allowed to work part-time because of his wounded hands and, how he had gone as far as renting an apartment, so they could be together for weeks on end.

"How did my son not find out?" I quizzed her.

"He's shy about my apartment, says he doesn't like spending too much time in it as there are too many other people always there. It's a only got one kitchen and two bathrooms, between 8 rooms, so it's more private here."

Eventually, I left her in the living room, after escorting her to the bathroom and back. My mind was in a spin, I actually felt sorry for this young woman who had clearly got caught up in a snowball effect, losing her virginity then 6 days later getting accidentally fucked by your lover's father. It wasn't her fault she looked like me, Thomas had all but admitted to me that it was the main reason he was attracted to her in the first place. And then there was that incestuous infidelity too.

I then saw my daughter coming out of my son's bedroom. She told me he wasn't good, and that he refused to see the both of them and that his dad could go to hell. "I'll take Shannon home, no point in having her here," Joanne said and added, "You go talk to him, he might listen to you."

I ushered Joanne and Shannon out the door, with Shannon profusely apologising. I just told her that I'd, "See you around," and closed the front door, before going upstairs and speaking into my husband.

"I have to know if you're alright. You're still my husband," I surprised him by saying.

"Sammie, I'm so sorry. I have no excuse, it's all my fault, not hers."

I sat down beside him, punched him wearily on the arm and replied, "I feel sorry for her. You're right, it is all your fault!"

I then moved to get up and he grabbed my arm and asked me where I was going. I told him I was going to see my son, and he asked, "Will we be ok?"

I laughed, shrugged his arm off and said, "I don't know, but I know that I will."

I went to my son's room, knocking the door to be told, "Go away."

I told him to open the door, as the lock he had put on since Shannon started staying over, blocked my entrance. I heard it unlock, and he opened the door and walked back to this bed, only saying, "Lock it behind you."

I locked it, looking over to him in the lamp's soft light as he sat down on the bed. "How are you?" I asked, wanting to just break the ice.

"Never better! My girlfriend is fucking my Dad, what more could I want?"

I was facing him, sitting with my left leg bent up onto the double bed he had recently bought, and I reached across to stroke his face.

He pulled away, but I edged closer until I could actually reach him, and hugged him into me as he pushed and tried to fight me off.

I saw a change in him, his eyes went black and he lunged at me, and soon we were flat on the bed. He tried to kiss me, and now I fought him as his hands went up my Santa Clause blouse, and he tried to push my bra up, but I knew I had to stop him.

"Thomas!" I said in a motherly voice.

"Call me Tom," he said, cupping my left boob as he won that battle, and my bare breast spilled over this hand.

"No! Thomas, I said no!" I scolded him, trying to pull my bra back down.

"I need you, take your clothes off," he grunted, trying to put his hand up my skirt. That's when, for the first time ever, I slapped my son on the face, hard.

He sat back, stunned and holding his left cheek as it reddened, and I said I was sorry. He didn't answer, but got up and, again, and his car sped off into the night in his car.

####

The next month was hell. My husband moved out at my request, my son wouldn't talk to me, and I took the step of calling Shannon, who swore to me that she hadn't heard from either of them. I later did find out that Mike was staying in his former love nest. My son turned up the next day, he came during the day while I was at work, took some clothes and went back to Ben's, who had allowed him to stay with him.

February arrived, and a reminder about the car rally was emailed to all participants, and Mike forwarded it on to both Thomas and me.

That very night, I heard music in the garage, and a spanner hitting the ground as I listened at the door. There was no car in the driveway as he had parked around the corner, trying to avoid me, no doubt.

I popped my head in the door to confirm who it was, dreading it being Mike. Thomas stood up, feeling the chill of the open door, his eyes met mine and I raced towards him, throwing my arms out to hug him.

"I'm sorry, Mum. I'm so, truly sorry. I shouldn't have touched you like that. "

"It's ok, it's ok, I shouldn't have hit you, can you ever forgive me?"

He separated us, pushing me gently by the shoulders and said, "I'm not mad at you, I deserved it. I just stayed away because I thought you hated me."

I grabbed him again, hugging him into me, as we both cried to each other, like mothers and sons do.

As we talked, I soon got the message that he would discuss anything, apart from his Dad or Shannon.

He told me that Ben was going to do the car rally, instead of 'Him,' and that he would need to knuckle down to have it ready by earl-March. "I'll help, if you need me," I said, happy to lend a hand where needed.

My son moved back in, having been sleeping at Ben's, but we didn't go back to, 'Normal." He didn't even try to enter my room at night, never mind enter me, it was literally like all of that had never even happened.

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Rebuilding Bridges

Next, disaster struck, and Mike's father passed away. I called my husband, finally, and we agreed we needed to talk. I met him, gave him a hug and he mentioned the Mustang, and I told him that Thomas and Ben had almost finished. I noted how sad Mike sounded, and I must say that at that very moment, I was missing my husband like crazy. Even though I had been without him in the past, for up to 8 weeks, this was different, and part of me wanted to take him home and comfort him.

The funeral arrived, and my family put on a united front, walking behind the hearse. I hugged my husband at every opportunity, basking in the warmth I knew so well.

I felt empty, not just sexually either as my husband was my best friend, my world. Our son, however, drove off straight after being at the cemetery.

I cried almost every night, probably hoping that Thomas would come in and, 'Fill the void,' so to speak. But then I questioned that, wondering was it Thomas that I really want?

I was lying in on my back in bed, when my son came out of the garage and into the house. My hand crept down towards my crotch as I fantasised about him opening the door, and slowly making sweet love to me, as I stroked my now thick, unkempt brown bush.

I held my breath as he came up the stairs, and I started to flick my clit. He walked past, shouted, "Goodnight, Mum," and my orgasm dissipated back into my core.

This was to become a depressing theme, as I lost the ability to give myself pleasure for the first time ever, since I started Masturbating in my teens.

As March neared, two weeks to go to the rally and the car's rebuilt engine had yet to be started for the first time. Ben came round each night to help out with the car and with everything completed, the engine just needed to be, 'Dropped in,' before Ben crashed his car, breaking his leg and wrist.

My son was devastated, "It's cursed," he said, "The whole fucking thing is cursed," and I was genuinely beginning to think he was right. I urged him to call his Dad who knew the car inside out, to which I was told that he would rather see it sitting in the garage and never turning a wheel.

I knew what I had to do, (No, not that,) and ordered some overalls/jump suits from the Internet and when they arrived, I'd made an error. Instead of the regular blue ones, I'd ordered mine in white, with a hood. I looked like crime scene forensics expert.

He was lying in his bed scratching his ass, when I burst through the door, dressed like a white TellyTubby. If my initial aim was to raise him from his self imposed hibernation, it was a roaring success as he immediately started to laugh and me how daft I looked. I told him to get up immediately, that we had a car to fix and I needed further instruction, as I hadn't clue what I was doing. I went down to the garage, opened the door and turned the lights on to see what looked like the engine on the end of a crane. I immediately use my powers of deductive reasoning to establish that this, was indeed, an engine crane.

My son arrived down swiftly after, dressed in his proper, unhooded boiler suit. Some time later, amongst much innuendo of, "Is it lined up properly? Will it fit in? I'm not sure the mounting is right?" the engine slipped into the engine bay, and then he started talking about bushings and mounts again.

Bear in mind that even the thought of him mounting me, made me swoon, so the fact that I not had sex in over two months, whilst still having trouble in pleasuring myself, I was soon regretting my choice to wear just my bra and knickers underneath my jumpsuit in case of any wetness.

He made guttural noises as he used force to guide the engine down into its correct place, swearing quite a lot and being generally manly, which did nothing for my growing arousal. All the while, too my dismay, he didn't even try to look down my top, and yes, I had left two buttons open.