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"I don't think we're going to make it home, Mom," Tom said from the passenger seat of the car. He was staring out as the snow began to fall harder, and worse, it was mixed with sleet. If this storm kept up or got worse, chances were the roads would be shut down.
He wasn't too upset about not making it home. School started back the next day, which was why they'd needed to travel in this weather in the first place, but he had no overwhelming desire to get back to school at the expense of freezing to death in the car when it got stuck in a snow bank.
"We'll be okay. I'll just drive slow. We've got to get home, or your father will be worried sick about us."
Tom knew that was right; his father had been upset at having to stay home for the trip in the first place, but his boss had absolutely refused to give him the time off. They had been visiting relatives in Maine, and were now attempting to make it back to Albany, but the road they were on, which was not a highway, since those had already been closed, was full of snow and only seemed to be getting worse.
Tom kept his peace about what they were doing only because his mother didn't need the distraction. He stared worriedly at the white nightmare outside the windshield, and prayed that they'd at least make it to a town before they had to stop.
Unfortunately, the inevitable happened. As they came around a curve in the road, they were confronted with a stuck vehicle. Tom's mother, having little time to react, panicked. In her fear, she hit the gas pedal instead of the brake, and her hands turned the wheel.
They missed the car by mere inches, but that was no longer their problem. They did not miss the six-foot-high snowdrift that had piled up alongside the road. The car buried its nose into the drift, and hit something hard. Tom was shoved against his seatbelt, and his shoulder twinged at him.
There must be a guard rail buried under there... or maybe it was a sign post. The light was already fading, and night would soon completely blot out the world around them. Tom's heart sank as, with a final, gasping sputter, the car died.
"Oh, shit," his mother said. Since Tom had turned thirteen the year before, there had been no taboo in the house concerning language. He was fourteen now, and smart enough to know they were now in very serious trouble. The car would not stay warm unless they kept it running, and they couldn't keep it running for more than seven or eight hours at best. This storm was likely to last much longer than that; it had been predicted to be a several-day storm, which was why they had chanced it in the first place; better to be stranded at home than to be stranded with already-crowded relatives.
Tom's mother's name was Carol, and she was staring through the windshield, wide-eyed and scared. She wasn't very good in crisis situations, and this was one of the worst she'd ever been in. She was still young, at thirty-four, and she had never been a good trouble-thinker.
"What do we do?" she asked herself, mostly, though she'd spoken aloud.
Tom, knowing what his mother was going through, and having adopted his father's no-nonsense approach to life, thought for a second, and came up with a plan.
"We have to find real shelter, Mom. We can't stay here; the car won't keep us warm."
"But, out there, in the wind..."
"I know, and we have to pray we find shelter fast. The only other thing we can try is to create a snow-shelter."
"How long could we stay like that?"
"I don't know. Probably not for as long as it'll take for them to find us."
"So... what do we do?"
"I think we should put on as many warm clothes as we can, and try to find somewhere that has heat. How far are we from a town?"
"I'm not sure."
Great. Just fucking great. To his mother, he said, "Well, it's only going to get worse as the storm picks up. We might as well go now."
"Okay."
The two spent five minutes putting on warm clothes. Each of them also grabbed a bag to throw some essentials in. The bags weren't large enough to carry more than some toiletries and a couple candy bars, but they also had the pockets in their parkas to put things like a flashlight and some other emergency essentials. Once they'd finished moving around in the station wagon's back end, they finally looked out the windows again.
"It's gonna be cold out there," Carol said.
"Yeah. But it's only going to get colder if we wait."
"Okay." They both pulled the hoods of their parkas up, and wrapped their scarves around their mouths and noses, and then Carol opened the door into the cold, white, hell that was the Vermont back country.
The pair had been walking for nearly an hour through knee-deep snow and slush. Each of them had fallen at least three times and, though their parkas were waterproof, they were both soaked to the bone from water wicking through their inner layers of clothing and being driven through every crack in their defenses by forty-mile-per-hour winds.
Carol was shivering uncontrollably, and was beginning to lose the ability to walk. Tom, ahead of her, wasn't in much better shape. He turned once again to check on her, and slipped on a hidden patch of ice. He went down hard, and hit his head on something. He cursed loudly and long, which more reassured his mother that he was fine than anything else could have. He turned over in the snow to see that he had hit his head on...
When did we leave the road? The world around him was so blindingly white that he was sure they weren't in the middle of the forest only because they weren't surrounded by trees. He stared down at what was clearly a bumper-stop in a parking lot. He looked off to his right, and sure enough, he saw through the snow and sleet a dim light.
He pointed to it, so his mother would know where they were going. As he got up, he yelled to her to be heard above the wind.
"Watch your step, there are bumper-stops in here!"
Carol nodded, and the two tried to pick their way through a half-empty parking lot... or at least it appeared to be half-empty, from what they could see of it. As they got closer to the building, they could see what looked like a log cabin. That was not reassuring to Tom, until he realized that, with a parking lot, it must be some kind of resort, or at least a fancy motel.
A resort? In this fucking place? Takes all kinds, I guess...
As the two stumbled through the doorway, nearly collapsing onto the pine floor, they caught a look at a dozen or so people, huddled in the room, wrapped in blankets and trying to sit as close to the roaring fire in the fireplace as they could. The clerk at the desk, having seen them fall, rushed to help them up.
"Hello, folks. What the heck were you doing out in that?"
Carol was trying to warm up her mouth enough to make it work. Finally, she said, "Car got c-caught in a snowd-drift. P-please tell me you have a room available?"
"We've got just one left," the man said. Carol hesitantly looked at the other people in the room, who didn't seem to be paying a whole lot of attention to the conversation. The clerk saw the direction of her gaze.
"These poor folks can't afford a room," he explained. "But my wife and I have been running this hotel for thirty years, and I'll be damned if I'm letting someone freeze to death out there when I can just as easy put them in here for the duration."
Carol nodded, and the three of them walked toward the front desk. Tom let his mother deal with the adults; no one ever took kids seriously, and besides, she was more or less in her element now, dealing with the familiar.
"How m-much is a room?" Carol stuttered.
"For double-occupancy, it's $68.50, with tax," the man said.
Carol was astonished. In this storm, with only one room left, the man would not have been out of line demanding twice that. He saw that look, too.
"I haven't gouged a customer in thirty years, I'm not about to start now." When Carol handed him the credit card, he pulled out a pad to write it on.
Carol asked, "Do you have any driers we c-can use? These are the only c-clothes we've g-got."
The man shook his head in sympathy. "Not with the power out. Sorry. I can lend you a clothes rack to dry 'em on, though. Your room's got a fireplace. Set 'em about five feet or so from the fire, and I imagine they'll dry quick enough. Let me call the wife." He stepped back into the back room, and was gone for a few minutes. He came back out with a woman who looked so much like a perfect match to his appearance that she had to be his wife. The woman was carrying a folded rack and a heavy bag.
"Oh, dear!" the woman said, startled. "You two look like drowned rats! Let's get you to your room and get a fire going!"
Tom motioned to take the bag, which looked extremely heavy, from the woman, but she refused.
"I doubt you're any stronger than I am right now. Now c'mon. It's right down the way."
Unfortunately, "right down the way" involved going back outside. The mother and son followed the woman, who walked as quickly as she could down the sidewalk in front of the hotel, and then quickly opened a door. She flicked on her flashlight as she set the bag down. The other two came in quickly and closed the door. The clerk's wife could see that the two were shivering badly. She hoped they didn't have hypothermia; that wasn't something they could treat here.
Moving rapidly, the woman, whose name turned out to be Wynne, set about starting a fire in the fireplace. Soon, the beginnings of a fire were glowing, and the room lit up somewhat. After that, Wynne went around and lit the two hurricane lamps in the room.
"I'm sorry we don't have any extra blankets, just the one for the bed. All of our... uh... well, all the people in the lobby used our extra ones. If you sit close enough to the fire, you should be all right. Now, so you don't have to go out in this weather, these are some basic groceries you can fix over the fire," she said, indicating the bag. "You two need to get those wet clothes off." Saying that, she set up the clothes rack, nodded to the two, and left, closing the door behind her swiftly to keep the draft to a minimum.
For the longest moment, the two stared at each other, shivering, still dressed in their full winter gear. The fire was beginning to heat up, but both were a little embarrassed about the idea of being naked in front of the other. As the fire built itself a little more, Carol finally spoke.
"This is silly. We're going to freeze to death if we don't get out of these clothes. Now, you get the blanket off the bed while I get undressed, and then you can get undressed while I work at making us a place in front of the fire."
Tom nodded, glad to at least have a plan. He shucked his coat off before doing anything, and then he pulled the blanket carefully off the bed, so as not to completely disrupt the sheets. They'd have to sleep there, after all, though that was not a thought he wanted to give too much consideration.
When Tom turned around with the blanket in his arms, he nearly dropped it. Though she had her back turned to him, setting her clothes on the rack, Tom could clearly see his mother's ass, the firelight shining off her pale, smooth skin. His eyes traveled up, and as she moved, he could see the silhouette of her breasts. He averted his gaze in embarrassment, and walked over to the fire to set the blanket down on the soft faux-fur rug in front of it.
His mother took that moment to turn toward him, and now the entire front of her body was lit by the glow of the growing fire. Though it was hardly noticeable in the dim light, Carol did see the crimson blush that came to her son's face, and his hands were trembling more than they had been. She blushed slightly herself, not having really considered the effect this would have on her young teenage son. She reached out and took the blanket from him, holding it in front of her body. His eyes, which had been glued unwaveringly to her form, snapped up to meet her gaze. She could see the fear of reprimand on his face.
"You better get out of those clothes," she said, "before you get sick."
Tom nodded mutely, and moved past her to the clothing rack. He kept his back turned to her as he disrobed, so as to keep his exposure to her at a minimum. He could hear her moving around a little bit, but he didn't dare look to see what she was doing. It took him longer than usual to get his clothes off, as bad as his hands were shaking. His fingers were also still numb from the cold. Though the fire was warming up the room, it didn't seem to be having the same effect on his body yet, and he still felt cold right to his core.
Finally, when all of his clothing was hanging to dry, he had to turn around. His hands naturally fell in front of him as he turned. His mother was staring at the fire, lost in thought. He walked behind her, keeping himself out of her view. He looked at the blanket, which she had wrapped around herself, and he sat down next to her, curling up and shivering.
Carol immediately looked at him. "You'd better get inside here. I don't think it's warm enough out there yet." When Tom just shook his head, Carol used a more stern tone. "Tom, this is not about modesty, this is about health. We both need to share body heat, or we could have a problem. Now get in here." She held the blanket open as a final command.
Tom averted his eyes as he scooted over next to his mother. She immediately wrapped the blanket around him, and she kept her arm around his shoulders, pulling him against her. He was still shivering from the cold, but at least he didn't have to avoid staring at her naked body now.
No, now I have to avoid touching it!
And that was a problem. The way his mother was positioned, his right arm was pressed against her left breast. He could feel her shivering, even through his own shivers. He slipped his arm out from between them to the back, and then, not having any other idea what to do with it, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, as well. She pressed in a little closer, trying to get warm. Tom was very confused about how he was supposed to feel at the moment. He knew that they had to stay like this, to warm their bodies quickly before anything really serious happened to them, but this was causing uncomfortable thoughts and ideas in his mind.
Carol leaned her head against the top of her young son's head, pulling him against her. He resisted only slightly, and then he squeezed her with the arm around her shoulders. They sat like that for quite a while, trying to let the chill leave their body.
After a while, the fire needed tending to. Carol pulled away slightly from her son, who released his grip on her shoulder. As she leaned forward, he held the blanket open, making it easier for her to slip back in when she was finished. She reached for the poker and adjusted the logs so that they would burn better and generate more heat. As it was, she didn't think the room was warm enough for them to sleep in the bed yet.
As she twisted back toward her son, she grabbed the edge of the blanket to pull it tightly around herself. Tom let his hand fall as she sat back. This was an error in judgment on his part, but it was totally inadvertent. His hand, attempting to find its former place on her shoulder, entirely missed its target. Before he really understood what had happened, his hand landed on his mother's right breast, and he had already squeezed, as he had planned to do to her shoulder. The soft, yielding flesh told him that it was not her shoulder he was touching, but it was too late by then.
Carol immediately sat bolt-upright, and this action neatly trapped her son's hand under her arm. He now couldn't really release her tit. She could feel him shaking, and it was harder than it had been. She knew that some of that shaking was not from cold, but from fear.
Carol herself felt a spreading warmth in her body. Her own shivering along with Tom's shaking meant that his fingers were repeatedly brushing against her nipple, which was now fully erect and sending pleasant messages to her brain. She knew she had to react quickly, but what should her reaction be?
It must be said that Carol and her husband Bill got along very well, and they were in love. The problem was that she hadn't seen him in over a week, and she had begun feeling certain needs that were now exerting themselves due to her son's innocent action.
Carol came to a decision that she knew would change a lot of things, but she simply could not resist the urge. She finished sitting back, still keeping Tom's hand trapped against her tit, and she turned. She could see the expression of dread on his face, she knew he expected a long tirade about inappropriate touching. She had no intention of berating him on the matter; instead, she was going to give him a crash course on it.
Reaching down with her left hand, which had not had the chance to resume its former position, she gently encircled her son's cock. She was only mildly surprised to find it stiff and growing. A few strokes of her hand brought it to full erection, and she could feel the heat pouring off his shaft.
"Have you been with any girls, Honey?" she asked him softly. He nodded shakily. "How many times have you had sex?" she asked this only to introduce the subject into his mind. She had already decided what was going to happen next.
"Four," he squeaked out. "With Connie once, and Abby twice, and then with... Ari."
Carol's eyes widened at that last admission. Ari was a very quiet Asian girl, who Carol didn't think had ever dated anyone, let alone slept with them. She was also their neighbor. It didn't change anything, but it did make her more interested in her son.
"After tonight," she whispered, continuing to stroke his dick and leaning closer to him, "you'll have to answer, 'five'." Before he could say anything, her lips touched his, and they began to kiss. It didn't take long before Tom was returning the kiss. He turned toward his mother, and she let his hand free, so that it slipped off her breast. She hoped that one or the other of his hands would soon return there, but for the moment, she was content to be kissed.
For his part, Tom was more than a little confused. The "dirty" thoughts and fantasies that seeing his mother's nude form had brought to his mind seemed to have suddenly sprung into reality. He thought he might be hallucinating, stuck in the first stages of hypothermia. If that's the case, don't wake me up yet! Though he'd had experiences with the three girls he'd mentioned, he had never, before tonight, thought of his mother this way. Having her strip in front of him had given him a whole new insight into her sexuality, and having her kiss him had kindled a desire that she apparently wanted him to fulfill.
Luckily for the couple, the fire had begun to burn hotter, and so as Carol pulled her son toward her, laying back so that he landed on top of her, they no longer needed the blanket which had fallen away from their bodies, anyway. They had broken their kiss, and Tom's eyes were currently fixated on his mother's right breast. He had a wicked thought, and wondered if she'd let him get away with it.
Tom leaned over just a little, and opened his lips. He let his tongue slip out and run around her nipple just before his lips descended and closed on the erect nubbin. Tom began to suck on her tit as if he was a newborn. He was surprised at his mother's sharp intake of breath followed by a long, low moan. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and instead of pulling his mouth off her, she pushed him more tightly against herself. He figured she must actually like this, and so he continued. His other hand reached up to begin playing with her other tit, and her moaning got a little louder, which he figured meant she liked that, too.
Tom continued to lick and suck his mother's tits for some time. After a while, he switched to sucking on the other one, just to give them equal time. His mother was squirming beneath him, and her moans were continuous. He was lost in the haze of his sudden-fantasy-come-true, and was only vaguely aware of anything around him.
When Carol reached down and took her son's dick in her hand, however, he did notice. In his surprise he let go of her nipple, and looked up at her expectantly, waiting for orders, information, or something that would explain why she was gently stroking his shaft.
"I want to have sex with you, Baby. I want you to do to me what you did to little Ari." Although the girl in question was Tom's age, she looked like she was three years younger.
Tom was a little stunned by the forthrightness of her remark, but he had little choice but to obey. If he didn't, he thought to himself with an ironic chuckle, she might do something painful to a favored part of his body. He inched his way up her body until he could feel the head of his dick pressing against a warm, moist, yielding spot. Her hand left him there, and circled around to squeeze his ass cheek, encouraging him to continue.
"C'mon, Baby, I need it," she groaned. Tom realized suddenly that she was pleading with her own son to get fucked. Tom pressed himself forward, immediately finding himself being engulfed by his mother's warm wetness. His dick was average-sized, for a fourteen-year-old, so he didn't figure he was going to be all that much excitement for his mother, but it was sure as hell exciting for him.
Carol, however, was already reeling from the sensation of her son's dick entering her waiting pussy. Her husband was a little below average in size, and so Tom's dick was already close to Bill's size. She hissed in pleasure as she felt his hard cock slipping into her. It was only a few seconds before his hips ground against hers. She looked down at her son, who leaned up, and they kissed again. When their lips parted, Tom could see the lustful look in his mother's eyes.
Before Carol had to say a word, Tom placed his hands on either side of her on the floor, and he began to move inside her. Carol cried out in surprise at how good he made her feel so quickly. The position of his body and the angle of his entrance caused his cock to rub against the front of her pussy, and she figured he must be hitting her g-spot. It wasn't long before she began seeing stars, the pleasure building within her.
Tom was actually sweating now, between the physical exertion and the emotional roller coaster he was undergoing. He could see his mother's face contort in pleasure, and her body began to shudder. She cried out in repeated grunts, and then one long, low cry left her throat as her body arched, lifting her back off the ground and pressing her tits against him. He liked how that felt as he continued to thrust into her throughout her orgasm. He was close himself, and he wasn't sure he could hold out...
A few seconds later, as her pussy began to ripple along his dick, he was quite sure that he could not hold out. With a groan of his own, he thrust his cock deep inside his mother and came, pouring his seed into her pussy. The sensation pushed Carol even higher, and her cries of pleasure got even louder. For long moments, the two grunted and strained through their orgasms. As one, they collapsed, their orgasms over, their energy spent. Tom laid his head down against his mother's breast, and they both fell asleep in front of the roaring fire on a faux-fur rug in the middle of a blizzard.
It was perhaps a half-hour before Tom awoke. He realized that it hadn't been a dream, that he had really made love to his own mother. He also realized it had been good. The third thing he realized was that he was probably pretty heavy to be lying on top of his mother like this.
Tom moved carefully, his cock leaving its place where it was nestled against his mother's warm pussy, and he rolled to her side. He had his back to the fireplace, and he looked at her body, enjoying the sight of her nude form. Since she was still young, her body was in pretty good shape, and it was certainly worthy of his admiration.
Carol soon woke up herself, sensing the lack of weight on her body, and the slightly colder temperature without her son's body heat. She woke slowly, and then turned her head to look at her son. She could tell he'd been watching her sleep, and she smiled at him to let him know that it was okay. She turned toward him, bringing her hand up to caress the side of his face. Tom leaned in, and Carol felt his lips touch hers. They kissed softly for a little while without any pretense of doing more; both of them were a little tired now.
When they broke the kiss, Carol looked at her son with a smile. "Ari must be a fool," she said with a chuckle.
"Huh?" Tom asked, not understanding her comment.
"If you did that to her, and she only wanted to do it once..."
"Who said she only wanted to do it once?" Tom asked with a smirk. Seeing his mother's confused look, he explained. "We had sex right before the trip. It was our Christmas present to each other."
"Oh," Carol said, drawing the word out in understanding. "Lucky girl."
Had I realized you wanted some, I'd have happily given you the same, Tom thought to himself, but he only smiled sleepily. Carol saw the look.
"Maybe we'd better see how comfortable that bed is. I think the room is warm enough now."
"If it isn't, we'll just have to keep each other warm..." Tom said. He was surprised it had come out of his mouth, but in his mind, he had changed from thinking of her as his mother to thinking of her as a girlfriend, at least for the moment, and it was something he would have said to Ari.
Carol got a coy little smile on her face and said, "Maybe I should just put the fire out..."
When Tom woke up several hours later to the sound of the wind actually battering the building, he was at first a little confused. His mind tried to assimilate the strange bed, the firelight, and the warm body pressed tightly against him. As his foggy mind processed these thoughts, he smiled. The relationship between his mother and him had obviously just had a major change, and he was perfectly content with it. He very carefully wiggled his way out of bed, trying not to wake her up, as he had to go to the restroom.
While he was in the bathroom, he considered why he didn't feel more shame or anxiety at the idea of sleeping with his own mother. He wondered if, when this was over, his mother would feel ashamed of what they had done. He knew he wouldn't; he loved his mother, and he always would. Whether or not their relationship would continue to contain sex or not, he would always be her son. He just hoped she wouldn't have bad feelings about it.
When he returned to the bed, he feared that she was already having bad feelings about it. She had woken up while he was in the bathroom, and the look on her face was one of dread. When she saw him, though, her expression changed to a smile and a sigh of obvious relief.
"What were you doing?" she asked.
"Had to pee," he said softly. He slipped back under the covers, trying not to lift them too high, so that the warmth of the bed wouldn't escape. As soon as he was fully settled, his mother snuggled tightly against him, laying her head on his shoulder.
"When I woke up and you weren't here, I got worried," she explained. Tom wrapped his arm around her and squeezed, the irony of that particular action not lost on him at all.
"I'm not going anywhere without you," he said to reassure her. She turned her face up to look into his eyes. The line had been far more mature than his fourteen years would suggest. Of course, he had merely meant that he wasn't going to leave his own mother stranded in the middle of a snowstorm, and where the hell would he go, anyway? Still, it earned him a heart-warming kiss. Then Carol laid her head back down, and the two drifted back off to sleep, listening to the howling wind outside, but warm and comfortable together inside.
When the pair finally did crawl out of bed, it was nearly noon. They had not spent their entire morning asleep, however.
"What do you want for lunch?" his mother asked softly. For some reason, she felt the need to speak quietly, or perhaps, Tom thought, she was just treating him like she sometimes did his father.
"I don't even know what's in the bag," he replied, walking over next to her. As he leaned over to look in the bag with her, he rested his hand on her lower back. He felt her shiver ever so slightly at his touch, and then she pushed herself against him just a bit. He looked into the bag and found a lot of staple foods: soup, canned vegetables and fruits, some pasta and sauce, and some other dry goods.
"Middle of a snowstorm, trapped in here, I guess we should have soup, shouldn't we?" he asked with a chuckle.
She giggled with him. "Probably. Chicken noodle, of course!" she said, holding up a can. They both laughed at it. Looking over at the fire, she saw it was getting a little low. "Can you fix the fire for me?"
Tom looked down at himself; he still had not dressed, and he was a little worried about certain body parts getting scorched.
"Would you like me to hold it up out of the way while you work?" his mother asked, running her hand along his inner thigh. Tom shivered in pleasure.
"I think I'll manage," he said after a moment of enjoying her hand. The two of them had been acting just like lovers ever since they'd entered this room, and it showed no signs of stopping. He was waiting for his mother to revert back to being his mother, and he wouldn't push himself on her after that point, but he would enjoy himself right up to it.
Heading over to the fire, Tom picked up a small log from the basket, and very carefully set it into the flames. He stepped back and got the poker to finish moving it into position from a safe distance. When he was finished, he found his mother next to him with a small cast-iron pot - it resembled a baby cauldron, to Tom - that had the soup in it. She had gone to the bathroom to get water to add to the soup, and now the question was how to put the pot safely into the fire.
"How do we do this?" his mother asked him. Tom bent down and looked inside the fireplace. He was actually surprised to find a cast-iron hook - an obviously late addition to the fireplace. He took the poker, and steadied it in both hands.
"Put the pot on the end," he said. Though it was a fairly small pot, it was heavy, and he had to work at holding it like that. He maneuvered quickly but carefully, to hook the pot's handle on the hook inside the fireplace. It only took a few seconds to get it into position, but by then his arm was shaking from holding the heavy cast iron at arm's length.
As he sat on the rug to wait for the soup, his mother sat behind him. She began to rub his shoulder, because she could actually see it twitching from the effort. She massaged his arm and shoulder until it seemed that the pain had eased, and then she simply wrapped her arms around her son, pressing her tits into his back, and they rested, waiting for the soup to finish cooking. She wondered how they would know when it was done, but figured she might hear it boiling in the pot, which would certainly be good enough. In the meantime, she held on to her son.
While she waited, she considered the change she had made to her life. She had no regret at all for taking her son as a lover. She hoped that he wouldn't be affected by it emotionally, at least not in a negative way. She had a need now that her husband was not around to fill, and her son was a willing and gentle lover. She had no desire to replace her husband with him, nor did she expect to replace any girlfriend that Tom might have. For right now, though, they were alone together, stuck in the middle of nowhere with no ability to leave, and nothing else to do. Besides, her son was good at sex.
After a little while, the soup began to boil, and they got out the bowls from the bag. Luckily, there was also a large ladle provided, since touching the pot to pour the soup was completely impossible. In fact, finding a place to set the pot safely turned out to be a bit of a challenge, since it had a rounded bottom. Finally, Tom set it on the hearth stone, keeping just enough tension on the handle (using the poker, still) to keep it from tipping. His mother ladled the soup quickly, and when the pot was empty, Tom set it against the fireplace brick so that it could lean against them without rolling.
The two sat next to each other, but not touching, as they ate quietly. They had mostly run out of things to say at the moment, and so they simply enjoyed their meal and the company, still listening to the wind howling outside. Tom faced the paradox that he would like for the storm to get over with so they could get out of here, but he knew that meant the end of his affair with his mother, and he wasn't too sure he wanted that to end. He pondered it as he sipped his Campbell's.
Both of them were currently in the bathroom, washing their dishes in the sink. The water lines had managed, somehow, not to freeze in this storm, and they took the advantage they had. It was cold in the bathroom, since the fireplace's heat did not extend this far, which was one of the reasons they were working together; it allowed them to share body heat in the cold.
There was a knock - actually a pounding, to be heard over the wind - at the door, and they both froze. They hadn't put on any clothes yet, and it would be very awkward if they were seen naked in front of each other still.
"You stay here," Carol said. "I'll get the door. Um... we better close this door, so they think you're using the bathroom."
Tom nodded, a little fearful at the thought of being caught doing what they'd been doing. His mother closed the door, and then she shouted "Coming!". Tom was amused at that particular term. Yeah, she's been coming about once every couple hours...
Out in the main room, the first thing Carol did was to take Tom's clothes off the clothing rack and toss them under the bed. This way, whoever it was would think that he was wearing them. Carol grabbed the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around herself. She then went to the door.
She was blasted by the frigid air as she did so, and was nearly knocked backward by its ferocity. The elderly woman hurried inside so they could close the door. Wynne looked around quickly, and then turned back to Carol.
"Where's your son?" she asked in concern.
"In the bathroom. He's not feeling well."
"Oh, I'm sorry. It wasn't the food, was it? We stock this stuff for a while, and..."
Carol waved her off. "If it was, it was something he ate yesterday. I think it's probably the stress. He'll be all right."
Wynne motioned to the blanket wrapped around Carol's body. "Your clothes aren't still wet, are they?"
Carol looked down and faked an embarrassed smirk. "Oh, no. I just... well, I hadn't really bothered to get out of bed until you knocked. Not really anything to do or anywhere to go, and it was warm under the blanket, so..." she gestured with a hand as the woman chuckled at her.
"I suppose there isn't much to do. No TV, no radio... and this storm is still coming down."
"Any idea how much longer it will last?"
"They expect it to clear off tonight sometime. Of course, there's no telling when we'll have power..."
"True."
In the bathroom, Tom was really wishing they'd hurry up. With the door closed and no one to stand next to, this room was like a freezer. When his mother had opened the front door, it was as if someone had turned the air conditioning on in the bathroom, and set it to absolute zero. He was already shivering badly, and he just hoped they'd wrap up their chit-chat soon.
"So, did you just come to check on us, or..." Carol was aware her son might be a little chilly in the bathroom; she didn't want to leave him in there for too long.
"No, first I came to check on your supplies. Is there anything special you need? We probably won't have it, if you do, but..."
"No, this should keep us for the next couple of days."
"I also brought some wood for your fire. You can't let that go out; it's your only source of heat and light."
"I know," Carol said.
"We'll have to open the door again to pull it in here." Carol grabbed the door, and they coordinated their movements. A quick ballet of rushing and pulling got the small hand truck in the room, and the door closed.
"An ingenious way to move things around," Carol said. The hand truck had a large metal basket welded onto it.
"Except that I can only do one room at a time like this, but it works."
"Why isn't your husband doing this?" Carol asked. It seemed odd for him to make his wife do the heavy lifting.
"He hurt his back yesterday. It'll be a few more days before he can lift anything heavy. I can manage while he's down."
The pair got the logs into the basket next to the fire, and then Wynne readied herself to head back out into the cold.
"I hope your son gets to feeling better," Wynne said. "Oh, I almost forgot; you probably didn't realize it, but you have running hot water, too. The boiler is working just fine, so you have all the water you need for showers."
"Oh! Okay, thank you for telling me."
"Surely. I'll probably see you tomorrow. Come down to the front desk if you need anything."
"I will, thank you." Carol quickly closed the door behind her guest to keep as much of the cold air out as she could. She didn't really realize how long she'd left her son in the bathroom, nor just how cold it was in there.
Tom, on the other hand, was acutely aware of how cold it was. He had been listening to the conversation between the two women for the first minute or so, but his body heat was being sapped quickly, and he began to shiver. By the time his mother came in to tell him he could come out, he was shaking badly, unable to form words because his teeth were chattering so strongly.
"Oh, Christ, Tom, I'm so sorry! C'mon out to the fireplace." She half-dragged her son over to the fire, but she soon realized there was a much faster way to get him warm, if Wynne was right about the water. She left her son where he was standing before the fire, shaking like a leaf, and returned to the bathroom. She turned on the hot water and let it run as she went to get both of the hurricane lamps, which she set on the back of the toilet, hoping that was far enough away from the spray of the water. She checked the tap, and sure enough, the water coming out was very hot. She turned on enough cold to make it bearable, and then she went to get Tom.
"C'mon, we've got to get you warm fast." Tom followed his mother without much thought into the bathroom. She helped him into the shower stall, and then closed the door behind them.
Holding her son under the running water, Carol rubbed his arms. She had no idea that he would get so cold so quickly, but then realized that the bathroom, with the door closed, received no heat at all, and it had quickly become an icebox. She hoped he wouldn't be too mad at her; she really hadn't thought about it at all.
As Tom felt the hot water running over his body, the first thing he noticed was his mother's hands running roughly over his arms. He knew she was being as gentle as she could, but it felt like sandpaper on his cold skin. Slowly, his shivering started to subside, and he began to pay attention to the world around him. He looked at his mother, and he had to stare to make sure he was actually seeing what he had first thought.
She's crying! Tom's natural instinct was to embrace his mother, and that's what he did, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him.
"I'm so sorry, Tom!" she cried out. "I didn't think you'd get so cold, I just... I'm so sorry!"
"It's okay, Mom," he replied, rubbing his hands across her back. The truth was, as he warmed up, he was far less concerned about how cold he'd been, and far more concerned about the warm body in his arms. His dick began to rise to the occasion, ready and willing to do its master's bidding.
Carol gasped when her son reached down to grab her ass. It wasn't that he had never done that, or that she objected, but merely that she wasn't expecting it. She had feared the worst, and thought that her son would be seriously ill. When she felt first his hands on her ass, and then his hard dick pressing against her leg, she realized that he was going to be all right. She also came up with a way to say she was sorry.
Carol pushed herself free of her son's embrace, but kept a smile on her face to let him know things were okay. She slowly slid down his body, kneeling before him. She was glad the shower was an acrylic enclosure; tile would have hurt like hell to kneel on. She saw her son's rigid cock aimed right at her face, and she licked her lips. She didn't do this very much with Bill, but she owed it to Tom.
Tom groaned as he felt his mother's lips slip over the head of his dick. None of his girlfriends to date had given him a blowjob, and the feeling was incredible. Carol ran her tongue over the head of his shaft, and then she pushed her mouth forward, taking more and more of his shaft into her. She got well more than half of it in before she began to slide off him again, letting her tongue slither along the length of his shaft. As soon as she had reached the head of his dick, her mouth pushed forward again.
Tom was awash in wonderful feelings, his mother's mouth driving him crazy with lust and arousal. She began to quickly bob her head on him, letting her tongue and lips work over his length. She brought one hand up to fondle his balls, and she could feel them tightening already. She knew he was close, and increased her pace just to drive him over the edge.
Tom couldn't stop himself, and he blasted his cum deep into his mother's throat, grunting out his pleasure as his cock spewed its load. Carol kept sucking until every last drop had been sucked from his dick, and only then did she let his prick slip from between her lips. She rose to her feet to stare her son in the eyes, and only then did she swallow, making sure he saw her. His eyes widened, not expecting that, and then he smiled as she wrapped her arms around him.
"Are you warm now?"
As a volcano... he thought. He just nodded to his mother. She reached back and turned the water off, and then took him by the hand. They didn't stop to dry off, but instead headed for the fake fur rug in front of the fire. She knelt down, and then pulled him down beside her.
"Let's see if we can't get you hard again," she said, the fire of lust in her eyes burning far brighter than the one in the fireplace.
"Mom, can I... can I eat you?" Tom asked hesitantly.
"You bet your ass you can!" she said. "Have you ever done it before?" When he shook his head negatively, she said, "Well, just pay attention to how I react, and you'll get the idea. I'd give you directions, but... hmmm. My mouth is going to be full." With that, she pushed her son down into a lying position, and straddled his face. She then bent over, taking his prick in her hand, and directing it into her mouth.
Tom was lost for a second, as he felt his mother's lips working over his wilted dick. After a few seconds, though, he managed to get his concentration on the waiting pussy above him. He looked at it for a few seconds, the swollen lips parting and pushing through the curly pubic hair. He could smell her musk, and the scent aroused him even more. Tom pulled her hips down, and she came willingly. He stuck out his tongue and gingerly swiped them across her pussy lips. He felt her shiver at his touch, and figured that might have been a good thing to do. He did it again, and got the same response. Then he started flicking his tongue back and forth, keeping his touch light, but moving much faster.
Carol gasped at her son's touch. One of the reasons that she did not blow Bill very often is that he wouldn't eat her out. This wasn't an entirely new thing for her, but it was a rare pleasure, and it was looking like Tom would truly be a pleasure. She worked even harder on his cock, wanting to encourage him to keep eating her out.
Tom worked his tongue back and forth, up and down her slit. As her pussy became more aroused, he saw the outer lips part fully, and he could see her inner lips. Curious, he used his fingers to part these inner lips, and he saw her entrance. Wondering what it would feel like, Tom stiffened his tongue, and he pushed it into her waiting cunt.
Carol screamed around her son's cock, and she lost her rhythm for a moment. The feeling was incredible; the little bumps and ridges on his tongue feeling almost better than a cock. She couldn't believe her son knew how to do this at his age. Did he really practice this much with those girls? She would be sure to ask later. Right now, she had to really focus to get her lips and tongue moving again on his hardening dick.
Tom knew he'd gotten something right just then. When his mother had stopped, he'd feared she didn't like it, or worse, that it hurt. When he felt her body shake in pleasure, he knew his fear was unfounded. He continued to thrust his stiff tongue into her hole, and swallowing the ample love juice that poured into his mouth. He used his fingers to stroke the areas of her pussy that his tongue was now ignoring, and it was a total accident when he brushed something that caused his mother to sit up, leaving his cock out in the cold, and moan loudly in pleasure.
"Oh, yes, Baby! That's it!"
Looking at the spot he had accidentally rubbed, he realized there was a small nubbin hiding under a fleshy hood. He knew that he had found her clitoris. He hadn't realized just how sensitive it would be, but he decided to rub along its side again. Again, his mother shuddered and moaned loudly.
Tom pulled his tongue out of his mother's cunt, and slipped it up toward her clit. He maneuvered the tip of his tongue underneath the hood, and began to lick and tickle the erect nubbin there. Carol was crying out and writhing above him, and he knew she had to be enjoying this, so he kept it up. In just a few more seconds, Carol let out a small scream and froze, her back arching and her hands pressing down on her thighs. A flood of love juices poured over Tom's mouth and nose, and he almost worried about breathing, but held on for the ride, anyway.
For a long moment, Carol stayed that way, her body shuddering in pleasure, her throat closed up and unable to cry out the ecstasy she felt. Finally, her body relaxed, and she lay herself slowly down on top of her son's body. Her hand reached out and encircled his still mostly erect shaft, stroking it back to full hardness. If her son had done this for her, perhaps there was one last pleasure he could give her?
After a few moments, during which she licked at and stroked his cock to keep it aroused, Carol rolled off her son. He was sorry to see her pussy go away from his mouth; she seemed to really enjoy that. Little did he know that she would enjoy what was to come even more.
Before marriage, Carol had been a wild child, and had experimented with all forms of sex. However, she had mainly been faithful to her husband since marriage, and her husband was not nearly as uninhibited as she was. Thus, she didn't get to have as much fun in bed as she would have liked. One of the things she didn't get, she was hoping was about to be given to her. She crawled up on all fours, and gave her son a "get to it" look.
Tom knew exactly what was expected, and he got up on his knees, moving swiftly in behind his mother. She sighed as his dick entered her pussy, and she immediately began to grunt in pleasure as he started to thrust inside her. It took all of Carol's effort to ask him to stop, but she wanted something better.
As she looked over her shoulder, she thought that Tom might do almost anything for her, so sweet he was, but this might be too much. Still, she had to ask. "Tom? Could I ask a favor?"
"Anything, Mom," he said, slowing, but not completely stopping, his thrusts.
"Baby, could you fuck me in the ass?"
"What?!" he cried, not in fear or horror, but just in shock that she would ask.
"I really like getting fucked in the ass, and your Dad won't do it. Would you, please? For me?"
Tom thought about it for a few seconds. It was a little weird, and he'd never done anything like that before, but... hell, if she actually wanted it, then it was just another new experience for him, and the more experience he had, the more girls would be interested in him.
"Okay... what do I do?" He knew it couldn't be as simple as straight fucking was.
"Okay, pull out of me..." she groaned at the loss of his dick inside her, but knew it would be back soon. "Now, put the head of your dick against my ass, and push really slowly." Tom placed his dick against her rosebud, and leaned forward a little. He felt his mother yield under his weight, and he almost let up, but she knew what he was thinking. "Don't move at all," she ordered, and he froze.
Carol's ass had fallen out of practice, and it was taking her a moment to loosen up. Finally, though, she pushed back against her son, and felt the head of his dick begin to penetrate her bowels. She pushed back harder, wincing at the pain, and felt the whole helmet of his dick pop inside. She cooed to herself at that feeling, wondering how she had ever gone so long without it.
"Okay, Baby, now go very slowly, but press into me. Don't worry if I make little pain sounds, I'll tell you if it hurts too much, but please go slow."
Tom caressed his mother's ass as he leaned forward again, allowing his dick to creep its way into her backside. He pulled himself back just a little, thinking this might help, and when he started sliding forward again, it was ever so slightly easier. He repeated this time and again, and made his way in little by little.
Long before Tom ever reached bottom, Carol was panting and writhing beneath him, her body welcoming long-forgotten pleasures. Carol was surprised how easily her son read her body, how readily he picked up the technique. She was also extremely happy he was good at it, and almost ready for a full-bore ass-fucking.
She let Tom take it at his own pace for a while, for he was a good lover, and he was relaxing her and getting her loose, which was a necessity for this. Once she felt loose enough, however, she really wanted a pounding.
"Okay, Honey, I want you to fuck me now. Pound me as hard and as fast as you can!"
"But... won't that hurt?"
"Not as much as it'll feel really good. Trust me, Baby."
I hope she knows what she's doing... Tom thought. He began to pick up speed, moving in and out of his mother's tight ass faster and faster. He couldn't believe just how tight she was. Even now that she was loose and lubricated, her ass was still far tighter than her cunt had been. He could feel her body gripping his cock as he moved, almost milking it for the sperm that was beginning to boil again in his balls.
Carol was grunting and groaning beneath her son, lost in the waves of pleasure he was giving her. She had forgotten how much she liked this, and she was so thankful to have been blessed with a son who would give it to her. She could feel her orgasm starting, and welcomed it.
Tom, also, knew she was close. He bent forward as he moved, letting his hands slide along her body. He reached around and grasped her tits, gently kneading them and rolling them in his hands. He pulled Carol up off the floor, fucking her ass furiously and groping her tits as he did. His palms were massaging her nipples as his fingers worked over her tit flesh, and it was simply more than she could take.
Carol's orgasm overcame her, and she screamed out, her mind awash in the white-hot ecstasy of climax. She cried out repeatedly, bucking against her son's body and twisting from side to side. Her body finally gave out, and she collapsed into her son's hands. He set her down gently, and let his hands trace her skin until they were back at her hips, where he slipped his hands up onto her ass, lightly caressing her cheeks.
Tom had not come during her climax, and he figured he wasn't going to, since she was in no condition to continue. When he started to slip out of her, however, she clenched her ass muscles, and turned her head to stop him.
"Go ahead and finish," she said. "Use me. You've earned it."
"But..."
"I want you to. I don't want to leave my lover unsatisfied. Pretend I'm a fuck doll or something."
Tom shook his head. "I could never pretend you were that, but..." he slid his cock all the way back into her. He began to thrust his cock into her again, quickly returning to the rhythm he'd developed earlier. Carol grunted beneath him with each thrust, and soon his balls were boiling again. He increased his tempo, and he could feel his body pass the point of no return.
Just as his cock started to erupt, Tom shoved himself as deep as he could into his mother's ass. As his cum spurted from his dick into her ass, Carol shuddered in a minor aftershock orgasm. Tom continued to pour his seed into her until he was completely spent. Slowly, tenderly, he pulled himself free of his mother's ass. His dick made a pop as it pulled free, and he smiled. Lying down on the rug, he pulled his mother to him, and they spooned there, lying quietly in the afterglow of their love-making.
"I love you, Tom," Carol told him softly.
"I love you, too, Mom."
The couple spent the rest of the day wearing themselves out with sex. They ate dinner together, and it wasn't until the next day that they even bothered to get dressed. They knew that Wynne would be by, and they did not want a repeat of yesterday's freezing incident.
Although what happened after that, I wouldn't mind doing again... Carol thought to herself with a smile. She was happy, and it was almost as if this was a second honeymoon for her... it was just that she was having that second honeymoon with her son instead of her husband.
Sure enough, right after lunch, there was a knock at the door. Both of them were dressed now, and had even gone outside a little while ago. The storm had, indeed, passed during the night, and they had gone to see how much snow had accumulated. The two-day storm had collected over six feet of snow, and Carol briefly wondered how long it would take them to get the roads clear in this condition.
As Carol opened the door, she was suddenly very nervous. There was a county sheriff standing behind Wynne, and while Carol neither regretted having sex with her son, nor did she think it was "bad", she knew that the rest of the hotel might feel differently.
"Hello, Wynne," Carol said, forcing cheer into her voice. "Is something wrong?"
"Oh, no, not at all!" Wynne assured her. "I just came by to bring you your daily wood, and some new supplies. This is Deputy Kilmer."
"Ma'am," he said with a smile.
"What can I do for you, Deputy?"
"Well, ma'am, we've managed to get some radio communication back, now that the storms have passed, and we're making a list of people to contact, to let them know you're all safe. Is there someone we can call for you?"
"Oh! Yes, my husband is probably worried about us." Carol gave the officer their home information, happy to have that worry relieved.
"They'll probably have to trek right out to the house," the deputy was saying. "The storm hit Albany as hard as it hit here."
"Oh. Any idea how long before we can leave here?" Carol asked, as Tom came up behind her.
"It could be three or four days before the roads are clear enough to travel on. We already found your car... it'll need to be towed. You hit a guard rail. Anyway, once the roads are clear, getting it fixed and everything... you should be out of here by next Monday."
"You're probably going to be bored out of your skulls by then. I'm so sorry, Carol."
Carol looked at her son, who smiled back. She turned to Wynne and said, "I'm sure we'll find something to keep us occupied."
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