WHEN MOTHER NATURE TAUGHT HER SON THAT HE WAS NOT QUITE HIMSELF
In the vortex of shifting light and shadow, the threads of insane love and lust had exploded in 1992, when both of young Twila Mae’s future son(s) had suddenly materialized in the past to father themselves (or more accurately, himself).
Wishing to fuck his mom in the future as well, one of the orgasmic Eric Jays had cried out his mother’s name and let his people go to the promised land of her sweet young womb. Like a volcanic eruption deep inside his soul and body, he had delivered his thick, heavy load of millions of sperm, hot white fluid flowing far inside his mother’s dark salty-sugar cave. His fertile seed had clung to its walls, planted and packed firmly in her moist garden.
Young Twila Mae’s entire body had quivered at that, wrapping her legs around him. The other Eric Jay, exhausted after having already deposited into her, had watched intently.
“Father yourself, Eric Jay,” she had whispered, almost ready to sleep. Her hands had brushed his shoulders as he rested his forehead on hers.
It had been accomplished.
The sun had begun to rise over the meadow and coulee, oblivious to the ecstatic act of scandalous, yet beautiful, incestuous copulation that had just taken place between mother and son(s).
The sudden question in both Eric Jay’s minds had arisen from the fog of the space-time loophole. How had Twila Mae known who they were as they each came inside her?
Just as this powerful realization of familiarity had sunk in, the lightning of the mysterious wormhole had transported the young lovers across space and time.
The two weary young men had returned to their times and places in the present.
Young Twila Mae, too, had been displaced from her reality at that moment and had gone forth boldly into the void…
Young Twila Mae shook her head and hurried to put on her white summer dress. The shock of wet and cold hit her like a mallet. In a daze, she suddenly realized that she was still in the meadow, but it was now wet and cold, trees stripped of their leaves, the sky overcast in what appeared to be late afternoon.
She glanced around, lost and alone. Barefoot, she wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm and raced toward the nearest house up from the coulee. Though she was surprised to find any buildings or homes standing in this undeveloped area, her freezing skin told her to get indoors. The warm lights beaming from the home’s back windows beckoned her with promise of safety and consolation.
Twila Mae was a good six months pregnant with VeNietta that early winter of 2011. Her belly was “deliciously swollen and ripe,” Eric Jay had told her with a warm kiss on her check only a few days ago. “The most wonderful MILF in the world,” he beamed.
She intended to carry her son’s sister-daughter-granddaughter to full term, to nurture her, to love her, just as they had both loved her as a young woman a few short months ago.
Thinking of the incestuous threesome in the master bedroom in which she was now standing, Twila Mae recalled the odd wormholes and lightning storms of recent months, which had peaked in the late summer of that year. The phenomena apparently had died down to occasional outbursts after late summer, which continued to baffle scientists.
The pregnant woman had just returned home from teaching her music classes at the local Catholic high school. She changed into more comfortable clothing—a silky gown, silk panties, and woolen slippers. No bra, as her swollen tits made it uncomfortable at times.
Twila Mae stared out the back window, reflecting on the recent dramatic turns in her and her son’s life. The school’s administrators had frowned at her when they learned of her out-of-wedlock pregnancy. She had lied to them (or had she?) that a renowned scientist from out of state who was studying the strange phenomena in town had befriended her this past summer, and that upon his return for further experiments, he would marry her and help raise their child. The administrators still expressed concerns that her pregnancy might set a bad moral example for young, impressionable girls in school. But what about the Virgin Mother whom the school and parish so ardently adored? Mary had been a single mother, too, touched in more ways than one by Light, just as she had been inspired in the coulee and in this very bedroom by powerful forces unknown. Abortions were anathema to these folks, too. She was pro-life in the fullest sense of the word! What could they truly do about her pregnancy? she had interrogated the school administrators and worried parents at the time.
Twila Mae nodded after that thought, patting her full tummy. She went into the kitchen to catch a quick snack (she craved some pickles and ice cream right then and there) and to prepare dinner for Eric Jay when he returned from his evening class. He was working hard, deciding to become a double major in biology and physics at the university. He had now found an incentive to do even better, with a young family soon to provide for. And perhaps solve the mystery of the lights. He was Twila Mae’s renowned scientist, indeed! The best gardener in the whole tri-county area, too, she laughed to herself.
As she ate, her thoughts drifted to the number of times her son crawled into bed with her in recent months after the start of her pregnancy. Their illicit lovemaking seemed so much more profound these days, the emotional connections becoming stronger. She also liked the fact that his huge shaft eased some of the pressure in her lower back because of pregnancy. His slow fucking proved superb, and, with her current appetite, she sometimes loved to swallow his creamy loads, too, especially as the pregnancy advanced. Their sexual routine remained robust, but more relaxed now, similar to the recent easing up of the electrical storms in the area.
In bed, she even had started letting him address her with her old nickname, “Tookie,” that went way back to her school days. Originally, it was a play on her given name “Twila.” But yes, she smiled, it now had become a sexy name that could stir her son. Very sexy, very intimate, indeed…
Twila Mae heard a rapping sound on the back porch door. Somewhat alarmed to hear it at this late hour, she rose from the living room recliner and stared out the main windows and then approached the French doors leading out to the back yard.
It was a young woman wearing a white dress, barefoot, shivering. Her bronze hair and tanned skin looked so out of place in this environment.
“My God!” she exclaimed, recognizing herself from nearly twenty years earlier. She fumbled to open the door to let herself into the house. “Twila Mae!?” She then felt her fetus leap inside of her; apparently, Baby VeNietta was as surprised by the visitor as she was.
The young version of herself stood frozen for a moment. “You are me? Where am I? What’s happening to me?”
“We have to talk, Twila Mae,” the older version explained. “Come in, dear, and let’s get you warmed up.”
Eric Jay came home later that evening from his physics night class and lab. He called out for his mother and worked his way to the back bedroom. There he found his pregnant mother and her younger version—the one he remembered out in the field—still making passionate sapphic love on the master bed, their naked bodies interlocked. When they both turned toward him, his weariness soon faded with a jolt of pure desire.
TO BE CONTINUED…
(Image Source: Forbidden Fruits Films)