Chapter 4
The Cabin
She lay on her back on the new mahogany table, sunlight highlighting the rivulets of sweat bouncing off her firm belly as I held her legs over my shoulders and drove myself deep inside her. Her eyes burned with lust; her hands clamped on my arms.
"Oh, yeah, harder, baby. Fuck me harder. So good."
The liquid slap of our bodies mixed with my panting and her grunts every time my hips slammed into hers. I thought my sister was hot, but there is nothing like fucking your mother.
***
Let me back up. This is Kyle. If you've read the other stories, you'll know I'm Jenny's brother. She stopped updating this page a long time ago and she has no idea I'm aware of it.
Jenny and I were/are lovers. Right now, she's twenty-eight and I'm twenty-six. She's married to Jim, and I'm divorced but dating April, yes, that brother and sister. But, for now, let me go back and tell you how my mother and I got to that table.
It was the summer after Jenny and I became lovers; I was in a deep relationship with Becky, headed for marriage. Not as tormented about cheating on her with my sister as I should have been. I had no idea what was going on in my family home.
As my sister said, don't get any crazy ideas; we had sex, but it wasn't often since I was just graduating college and starting grad school locally—for reasons that should be obvious. I was living at home, and we had to be careful.
My twentieth birthday came and went, literally, thanks to Jenny. Dad's business, actually Dad, Mom, and Jenny's business was thriving. My future was in finance. I was taking the summer off. Well, until the family bought 'the cabin.'
Dad found it on an auction sale site. According to the rumors, the house had been owned by a family that fell on hard times, and the home was foreclosed. Dad had to move fast, so we only had old pictures.
Dad and Jenny were swamped with work, so my mother drafted me to go explore our new vacation home in the mountains.
The four-hour drive in Mom's Suburban was a blast. I hadn't been able to spend much time with her and we got on like mad. Four hours passed like four minutes.
Driving up the rutted gravel road; "Good thing I brought 'The Beast'"—Mom's nickname for the big four-wheel-drive SUV, "We'd have given up if we had your weenie-mobile."
"Mother, it's a Subaru, they are designed for roads like this."
At that point, the big truck was straddling the hump in the road and occasionally the belly rubbed the dirt. Mom looked at me, "Oh yeah? That little thing would be stuck on this hump like a cheerleader fucking a fat man."
Coke spewed out of my mouth all over the dashboard. Mom roared as I wiped the dash with a paper towel.
"Who are you, and what have you done with my button-down mother?"
Mom, still laughing gently punched my arm, "She left when you graduated college and became a real adult."
I tossed the wet paper towel on the custom Weather Tech floor mats as Mom added, "Wait'll I start drinking."
I leaned back in the seat, looked at my mother, and for the first time, saw her as a woman and not my mother. I shook my head lightly to clear that thought.
As Mom talked, I paid attention to her body. She's an older version of my sister, who, to be honest, is not calendar material. Tall and thin, modest breasts, Jenny's hair a dishwater blonde, Mom, having added color, a bit more vibrant. Brown eyes, glasses. Blah would be cruel, but not inaccurate.
My sister's personality, and now my mother's unleashed one, made all the difference. I was going to enjoy working with her. A little tidying up and we'd be done.
"What the actual fuck?" My mother said as she slammed the door of the truck.
Not as advertised would be an understatement.
It was the building in the pictures, but the pictures pre-dated the lack of maintenance. One-story log cabin, wrap-around porch, huge stone chimney. Nice, except that the undergrowth had taken over and you couldn't see the porch. Fortunately, I had planned for the worst.
After chain-sawing for half an hour, Mom and I got inside.
The house smelled like it had been closed up, not moldy, thank God. One big room, kitchen at one end, huge stone fireplace. A master bedroom, king-sized bed, with its own small En-suite, one smaller bedroom, double bed with a bathroom. The furniture was rustic and dusty, but not gross. The house had been tight, so no critters had moved in. We opened all the windows and the back door that led to a covered porch with a hot tub.
"There are no doors." My mother said.
Obviously, I'd noticed that too, but thought maybe we'd find them.
"Yeah, what's up with that?" I answered as we gently pulled off the loose sheet covering the master bed.
The house was built by the family that lost it in foreclosure; that's all I knew. But none of the bedroom or bathroom door frames had hinges. There had never been doors.
Mom pushed down on the mattress, it looked expensive. "Hmm, nice, in good shape. Let's check the rest."
The bed was a double with an expensive mattress in good shape. Well, at least we'd sleep well. That was the end of the good news.
The place was choked with junk, furniture, boxes of random possessions, old books, magazines, and paperwork. My guess was this was the last stop for the family after losing their primary home.
By now, the summer heat had us sweating. I had cutoffs and a tee; Mom was in loose shorts and a tank top. Yes, she had a bra on, not that she, or my sister, needed them.
"Okay, Kyle, first things first. Go cut on the electric and let's see if this pile catches fire."
It didn't. Everything worked, except the HVAC. Mom and I stood under the huge ceiling fan in the big room, and she laid out the plan.
"Okay, we brought take-out for tonight. We eat, make the beds, shower, and crash. Tomorrow's gonna be a long day."
I went to my room, tossed my duffle on the dusty floor, got out my sheets, and made the bed. There were pillows in the closet in sealed plastic bags. As I finished up, I heard the water running; Mom beat me to the shower.
As I sat and waited, I laughed to myself. Jenny would think this was a riot, me and Mom in a house with no doors. The water shut off and Mom shouted, "All yours!"
I stepped out of the shower after letting it run cold for a few minutes in a vain attempt to cool off. It worked, kinda. It was dark and hot, I was beat. I just crashed on the bed, uncaring of my nudity.
I woke up; it was night. Moonlight took the edge off the pitch darkness. Sensing a presence, I slotted my eyes. Mom, standing in the doorway, gloriously nude and staring at my erect penis. Just staring.
I watched as her right hand moved over her smooth vagina. Unlike my sister, Mom was shaven. She bit her lip, and her other hand found the nipple of one of her modest breasts.
She stopped, her hands fell back to her sides, and she backed out of the doorway and out of sight.
As my mother would say, what the actual fuck?
I lay there for a few, my hand holding my erect cock. I'm no pornstar, but no girl ever asked me if it was in yet. I absently stroked my cock reliving the moment and acknowledging that I liked having my mother see me naked and hard, and sure that my mother enjoyed seeing me.
Nothing like that had ever happened.
I debated wearing just my loose athletic shorts, no shirt, no briefs, but I comprised, yielding to good judgment, and put on underwear. No shirt though, that won't cross any lines.
Mom was appropriately dressed, loose running shorts, a tank, panties, according to the line I saw as she moved, and a bra. She had coffee, cereal, cold milk, and a plan.
"There's no way we're gonna truck all this trash. After breakfast, go out back and make a pit. We're burning it."
Speaking around a mouthful of cereal; I was really hungry, "Um, Mom, is that allowed?"
Mom snorted. "Fuck 'em. We're way off the beaten path and we have to leave tomorrow. There's no time. Just do it. Grab a few boxes of papers and start the fire. I'll shake out these sheets and make us a couple of quickie doors."
In the field behind the house, I made a rock ring and spent the next half hour moving boxes and broken furniture out.
There were two boxes of documents that looked like they might shed light on this family. I got curious and set them aside. I ripped up some old tax returns, lit them off, and piled broken wooden furniture on top. Burning paper is slow work. While I fed the fire, I read through the papers.
The McGinty family. Mom, dad, twin son and daughter. Wherever they are, the kids are almost thirty by now. They had a gym that went broke during COVID. They had built this house years before. So, no gruesome, Stephen King tale of familial dysfunction, but still no answer to no doors.
As I loaded paperwork into the fire and tossed on more broken furniture, I'd see Mom passing in and out, dumping dust and dirt, shaking out the sheets that had covered everything. She was a sweaty mess by now, but I found her more attractive that way. What's wrong with me?
She'd bend over and I could look down that tank top and see her cute little bra. Every time she bent over her panties left lines on those shorts. My mental picture of my mother naked in my doorway never left my mind. I made a mental note to masturbate tonight, I was coming unglued.
Mom walked, no swaggered out of the house, two long necks clamped between her fingers. The tank top adhered to her lean frame with sweat. Not a dry spot in sight. The light-yellow running shorts were also transparent with sweat, a white thong the undie of the day. She looked good drenched in sweat. Her nipples popped, even behind that thin bra and as she got next to me, she gave off a feral scent.
Stop that,
I said to myself. My problem is, she looks like my sister and that makes my mind bounce to being over Jenny, sliding my cock into her.
"You're making good progress." Mom said, holding up the two bottles. I took one, spun the top off, handed it to her, and took the second one, spinning the top off and throwing both in the fire while never taking my eyes off her. She noticed.
"I look like hell on a sponge."
I smiled. "Oh, I don't know. I kinda like that, 'our plane crashed in the desert and I'm trying to find my way out' look. Desperate suits you."
Mom laughed, gave me a look, caught me looking at her hard nips; I moved my eyes up.
