Author's Note: All imaginary persons I imagined for the purposes of this story who engage in sexual activity of the imaginary variety are 18 imaginary years old or older, I imagine. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is coincidental but obviously fated to be, so blame the Universe and not me.
Up next:
Are You Tiffani Caine? Chapter 6
That Damned Blessing, Chapter 5:
In Which The Chickens Who Have Come Home Begin To Roost
A Thursday in Late September
Jess had just run to the work bathroom to revel in a scorchingly hot vision of Ryan sodomizing her like an animal, and her grunting and moaning and yelling for her son to fuck her was loud enough that the sound carried outside the bathroom. She'd gotten herself off so hard that it was a couple of minutes before her legs steadied themselves enough for her to stand, then went back to her desk. Twenty minutes later her cell rang; to her surprise, it was Paul. While they talked almost every day, they usually did it before she came to work; this was the first time he had called her at her job since before the family had gone to the island to visit him. She greeted him with a cheerful, "Hi, babe!"
"Hi. How are you?" Her husband spoke in a voice devoid of the excitement she usually heard when talking to him.
"I'm OK. Are you OK? Did something happen?"
"I guess that depends on your definition of 'happened.' I got a text from Kendra Bosco."
"Oh, really?" That was a surprise. Kendra and her husband had been good friends with Jess and Paul for years, close enough to hang around a lot and even spend a couple of camping weekends with. Then Kendra and her husband split acrimoniously and Kendra changed her life dramatically, adopting a boho artist persona and running with a new crowd. Gradually they had less and less contact with her until, for the past five years, she was a Christmas letter kind of friend. They occasionally commented on each other's social media posts, but that was it. "What's up with her?"
"It was a weird text. She asked me how I was doing with everything that was going on back home."
Oh. Oh fucking hell.
"I asked her what she meant, and you know what she told me?"
Jess let out a long, pained sigh. "Yeah. I do."
There was a pregnant pause before Paul demanded, "Is it true?"
"What exactly did she say?"
"That you and
our son
are a couple and trying to get pregnant."
"Oh. No, that's not true." Pause. "Not yet."
"NOT YET?" Paul roared. "What the FUCK does that mean?"
She sighed. "I'll tell you everything but I can't talk here. Give me five minutes to get to my car."
Exactly five minutes later, she was sitting behind the wheel of her automobile when her husband called back. Without preamble, he picked up where he left off with, "What the fuck does 'Not yet' mean?"
"Something happened on the island. Something you won't believe a word of."
"Try me."
"It involves magic. Not card tricks and rabbits from hats, but real, honest-to-God magic."
A long pause, then, "Christ, Jess. If you're having an affair with our son, just tell me. Don't insult my intelligence."
It was a perfectly reasonable reaction to being told an impossibility, so she didn't get angry. "You remember that fertility ceremony in the village? It worked."
"So, what, they hypnotized you into incest? Give me a break."
"Not hypnosis. Starting that night, Ryan and I began having the same dreams. Not similar dreams, not dreams on the same topic - dreams that were identical down to the last detail."
"Sure you did. What kind of dreams?"
"Sex dreams. They started with...how much detail do you want?"
"We've been married for twenty years, close enough. I thought we didn't have secrets from each other."
"Some of these details might not be nice to hear."
"As not-nice as hearing from Kendra-Christ-Almighty-Bosco that my son is banging my wife with the intent of knocking her up?"
"You're going to hear things you can't unhear, but here goes." She launched into the story, starting from the ceremony and going all the way down to the present moment. She talked about how the dreams got progressively more involved, how they began to intrude into real life, and how hard both she and Ryan fought. She told about the second ceremony and what it had done to the city they lived in. She talked about how hard it was getting to distinguish reality from vision and how hard it sometimes was to keep from doing real things. She even told him about the breakthrough she'd had where Ryan had stopped her from seducing him in the kitchen. Paul asked a lot of questions and interjected a lot of defiant disbelief at first, but as the story went on he got quieter and quieter until, by the end, he was just listening.
When she was done, there was a long moment of silence before he said, softly, "You sound like you actually do believe all this magic stuff."
"Babe, I'm not a pale, freckly redhead anymore, I'm a Mediterranean-complected brunette. I used to have the body of a woman in her forties, and now I look like the hottest new pledge at the sorority. My shoes don't fit right anymore because my feet shrunk a half a size. When Ryan got to the island he didn't look a day over 18, and now he doesn't look a day under 25. Yes, I believe in all this magic stuff, because all this magic stuff isn't giving me a choice in the matter."
"I don't know whether I want to think you're telling the truth or you're lying. Either way, I'm having a really hard time buying a word of this."
"I understand. I wouldn't believe it myself if it wasn't happening to me." Pause, then, "Hey, I have an idea. Go to that village and talk to the shamans, Adouwe and Jake. Jake speaks better English. Ask them what happened. Ask them why there was just a gathering of every shaman and holy man from every island. Ask them what they did and why."
"It sounds like a waste of time."
"If it would help you believe me, is it really a waste of time?"
Pause, then, "No, I guess not. Give me directions."
She did, then added, "Babe, please understand. Neither Ryan nor I asked for this. Neither of us wanted it. Both of us are fighting it as hard as we can, every second of every day."
"And if what you say is true, then it won't matter how hard you fight, right? You'll end up someone else, our son's woman, constantly pregnant for however many decades?"
"That's how it looks. I'm sorry, Paul. I am so sorry. I wish there was something, anything we could do to stop it. I don't want him, I want you." She paused, fighting back tears, and when she spoke again it was to say, "If you don't believe anything else I said, please believe that I love you more than anyone alive. All I ever wanted was to spend the rest of my life with you. I'm so sorry."
There was another long pause, and then he reluctantly said, "It sounds like you believe it, if nothing else. Today I'll go to that village. In the mean time, tonight could you send me pictures or video of you and Ryan? I want to see all these changes for myself."
"Of course. I love you."
"I know. I'll call you when I get back from the village. Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Paul."
She hung up the phone, whispered, "Well that sucked," and made to get out of the car. The moment her hand touched the door handle, she instantly became achingly horny again. She took two minutes to rub one out while thinking about the first night of hers and Paul's honeymoon, then went back to work to discover three emergencies had popped up during the hour-and-a-quarter than she had spent talking to her husband. Shit never stood still.
Early that evening she gathered every lamp in the house and put them in the living room, trying to make one side of the room as bright as possible. Ryan was first before the camera, taking off his shirt so that his father could see how much he'd filled out since he'd left the island - his dad saw him shirtless there enough for him to know that he'd changed too much for any natural growth in less than a month.
When it came Jess' turn, she handed Ryan the camera and began to strip down. So natural was nudity to them both right now that she had already positioned herself in the brightest part of the room before he thought to ask, "Hey...do you think dad might get really pissed at you being naked in front of me?"
"I don't know, maybe. I did tell him how comfortable we were with each other being nude, so maybe seeing how nonchalantly we both take this will help convince him. Ummm, you aren't having a breakthrough, are you?"
"Huh? No, why do you ask?"
"Because your cock is threatening to rip out of your jeans like an alien of of someone's chest."
He looked down and laughed. "Nah, I'm OK, just horny again. I'm gonna go jack off to lesbians after this."
She snorted, amused rather than scandalized - the time was permanently vanished when they found talking about the most explicit sexual functions to be awkward. "Why do I have the feeling that you're going to want a lot of threeways when we're finally together?"
"Because I'm a guy? OK, ready. Start posing."
This wasn't the first naked video that she'd sent to her husband over the years, or even over the past few months. This one was different though because it was almost clinical in its detachment. She talked about every part of her that had changed - her hair now brown and wavy instead of lank and red, her skin darkened several shades, her nipples now dark instead of pink. She pointed out how her batwings had disappeared to leave her with perfectly toned arms, how her stomach was now fitness model hard, how there wasn't a trace of cellulite anywhere, how the flab on her thighs had vanished, and how her ass was now a solid, flawless mass of muscle instead of a pair of dimply bags of cottage cheese. Ryan zoomed in on each part in turn, getting close to get views that showed the physical evidence of everything she said.
When they were done, Jess took the phone back and sent the videos to her husband. "You know, he might be at the village right now, talking to Jack and Adouwe. I wonder if they'll be able to convince him."
"I think we should have Kim contact him to tell him that she's convinced it's real. She has no reason to lie to him. Maybe that would help."
"Good idea, babe," she said, setting the phone on the coffee table. She leaned in to give him a motherly kiss on the cheek for his help, but between the time she started her lean and the time she finished it, a switch flipped in her mind and the kiss wound up on her son's lips instead. She hadn't planned it and he hadn't expected it, but in an instant her tongue was in his mouth and then his tongue was in hers and he was playing with her nipples with one hand while squeezing her ass with the other and she was stroking him through his jeans working frantically to make his perfect cock shoot its delicious sperm into his underwear -
The kiss only lasted three minutes, but it was among the best three minutes of either of their lives. Finally, though, he managed to push her away. "Mom - mom! Stop, you're having a breakthrough. Take a deep breath..."
For the first few seconds she looked at him with ravenous hunger in her eyes, but then her expression softened and she gave a jerky nod. "Go. Take care of that erection - and lock your door, because if you don't that thing's going inside me tonight."
"Love you, mom," and with that he disappeared to his bedroom. She sat herself down on the sofa and masturbated to the thought of her son fucking a baby into her before sunup. After that she put all the lamps back where they belonged and took a shower, where she got herself off again to thoughts of the husband she loved so much. Once that was done, she had a quick text exchange with Kim telling her that Paul knew and asking her to contact him to help him swallow the admittedly preposterous truth.
At 4 AM the next morning, Jess was dreaming about Cirque du Soliel except that all the acrobats were zebras when her phone rang with her husband's unique ringtone (Taylor Swift's
