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3 – Just Where Do We Go From Here?
Reliving a Forbidden Love
1
Lothar stepped soundlessly over the highly polished floor, his mother, Harriet, yet to notice him drawing near. She sat, with her shoulders hunched, at the breakfast bar and swirled the contents of a glass around as if in time with her thoughts. He loved the sight of her auburn hair, its long swirly strands, the grace in her movements, her glacially white skin that was like marble, how that silk night gown shaped her. If she was cold, or the chill air of the room affected her, Harriet did not show it.
‘Mother…Harriet?’ he asked softly, restraining the urge to touch her bare shoulder and startle her. ‘Are you okay…I understand what made you do it?’
She turned on the barstool and answered him sharply, needed no reminding of being caught, in flagrante, with Andreas, her boy’s uncle and late father’s brother. ‘Do you, because I don’t. Letting go and with you was one thing, but with Andreas? You shouldn’t have seen that…’
They had few secrets now, but Lothar kept from saying that. ‘I know, but I understand. We agreed to let go of what we found when life was tough, especially for you…’
‘During your father’s illness and then his death, you mean?’ she asked harshly, but her voice brittle. ‘It’s still difficult for me…and even more so after what happened yesterday.’ She sipped on her drink but met his look upon her. Harriet soon clutched the hand that he held out and drew her favoured son to her side. ‘What I did with Andreas was shameful…and…and it was of no help, couldn’t undo what had happened with you…the sharing of forbidden comfort and company. Just who have I become…tell me?”
‘Someone beautiful, someone whose life has been changed…and that’s not your fault. I meant to help you through, but I also got lost.’ Lothar found his mother’s use of words only too correct.
She nodded and rested her head against his chest as Lothar stood behind her. She shifted on the seat and met his stilled gaze, knew what lay behind those eyes as he gazed down at her. ‘I’m sorry…that you should have seen us, but I thought you were going to stay with Lisa and not come back home…’
‘We just met up with others and went for a drink and something to eat. We’re just friends, I’m not starting up a relationship with her again.’ Lothar paused, could not keep from taking in how his mother’s breasts shaped the thin nightgown that she wore, the lacy straps on her bare shoulders and the lace frill at her cleavage. The wayward gnaw of desire for the woman claimed him once more as he stroked her arms with both hands.
‘Lothar?’ she asked in a gentler voice and on sensing the change in him
‘I can’t help but look at you…how that makes me feel. I just can’t switch them off…the feelings I have for you.’
‘It’s crazy…a madness that has taken a hold in us,’ Harriet sighed. ‘Your mother’s become another woman…’
‘That I am here for, even now…after what has happened.’
‘I know my darling, I know…’
He felt her slowly take his hands and place them on her breasts, then heard her soft gasp as he squeezed and felt their weight. He was possessively dismayed by the thought that someone else had touched her in these ways. ‘I understand what made you do it…’
‘I just needed a moment’s comfort from him…from Andreas,’ she whispered, looking up and into his eyes, seeking his reaction. Her son would know that she was not the promiscuous sort, yet even she had fallen from grace by sleeping with him, his devotion no excuse. ‘He came to the house to see how I was. Your father’s brother…your uncle…has been a help to us all in dealing with your father’s testament. I didn’t know he would do what he asked of me…and I agreed to…he’s kept hidden his feelings for me and I felt guilty for other reasons, that you know of, my darling.’
Lothar felt his mother shake. He knew only too well what was at work in her, his presence a reminder of how their relationship had changed beyond all reckoning. Finding her in bed with Andreas had shaken him, but who was he to be angry after all that they had shared and in their disloyalty to Carsten, his father, no matter what the reasons may have been, continued to be? Harriet kept his embrace to her, wrapped her fingers with his and remained silent.
‘I…I long for certainty again, darling…’ she confessed on a breaking voice.
‘You…you still want to find a way through, but only with me.is that it?’ he asked, pressing his lips to her hair and feeling her nod.
‘Is it any crazier than what I did with Andreas? I’m impatient…and I’m no good living on my own…in an emptier life without Carsten.’
‘You’re not alone…’
‘You know what I mean!’ she said peevishly.
Harriet said it as she turned on her seat and Lothar soon stood between her parted thighs. She chose not to restrain him as he eased away the skirt of her nightdress until Lothar could caress the warm skin of her mezitli escort legs. He felt her hands move under his T-shirt, then under the rim of his lounge pants that he slept in. She found him, could not help but shiver on feeling his state of arousal. Lothar had an aberrant longing for her, a dissolute hunger that she had failed to quell. They had each fallen into another life together and that the weeks following Carsten’s funeral, and her times of mourning, had failed to settle.
‘You…you know what your touches will do to me…even though I know that we said we wouldn’t go there again,’ he murmured, bending to kiss her, slowly and then deeply. ‘I’ve stayed true to you…also had counselling to help me with bereavement…on losing father. But…but comfort also comes by being with you, wrong as it is and has been. It’s become a drug, an intoxicating drug that…seeing you now, in your nightie… only makes real. I’ve said nothing on that.’
‘I know how difficult it has been, for both of us,’ she answered, sharply, then moderating her tone. ‘I know, my darling, just don’t remind me. Just be here with me whenever you can until I have sorted out my life. It’s taking so much longer than I hoped it would, without you being with me in the ways that we once knew. It’s evil to feel the way that I do about you and what we once shared, but it helps to keep some memories alive…you have your father’s eyes and face…his attentive ways. I feel lost without them. Andreas was of no use to me, in anything that we did. It won’t happen again, I promise…’
‘I said you don’t have to explain….’
‘I do have to explain, but what I’ve done with both of you is little excuse….’ She spoke as her arms drew him to her and she felt the press of his hard penis against her chest. ‘I still make you feel the way that you do…,don’t I, my darling?’
‘Yes, I can’t let the feelings go…can find no distraction for them.’
‘And we’ve got to help each other with them…somehow.’ Harriet simply held him to her, rested her cheek against the warmth of his skin for an instant, moved on the seat to heighten the sense of anticipation that she again felt coursing through her belly.
He moved away from her, enough, for Harriet to see his trembling length of flesh, how hard it was and that it arced away from the spiral of hair at his belly. She stroked its length and gently cupped his sac, kneaded his balls slowly and intently, then used it to caress her fanny’s lips with it in a wanton display of her need to know of him again. ‘Who…or what…have we become?’
She pressed her lips to his skin, embraced him tightly.
‘Help me with it…help me with it, Harriet! Help me with what I feel for you…have felt for so long!’ he gasped as she moved and slowly sucked on the swollen tip of his penis, just as he had seen her do with Andreas, but without the raging emotions that they each aroused in each other; the promise of again tasting the forbidden fruit that was, or had been, their tempestuous, illicit and incestuous affair.
‘Take me to bed,’ was all that she asked and eased away from him, awkwardly, stumbling for an instant before Harriet ran from him, the skirt of her nightdress falling down over her thighs.
‘Wait!’ he called out.
She turned to look his way, the unmistakable sway of her breasts exciting Lothar to match her rush up the stairs and to her room, the soft glow of a single bedside light enough for them to take in what they would again bring to each other.
‘Darling…darling…go slowly!’
‘There’s no one else for me…no one,’ he kissed, his lips pressed to her throat as she reached up to keep him there, to languish in his embrace as Lothar cupped the tumble of her breasts. ‘No one claims me…or my thoughts…as you do.’
Harriet turned and reached out to him, groped for his trembling prick then clamped on it, wonderingly. ‘Look what you bring to me…to me alone…look what I have aroused in you…all of it forbidden…as it should be.’
She gazed searchingly into his eyes as she pulled down his lounge pants and made him step out of them. He had already torn away his t-shirt and stood gloriously naked before her, his hands in her hair, a quite different look now to be seen in his eyes.
‘I…I can’t talk to anyone about this! Talk about what I feel and want to do…something so different from anything else…with anyone else.’
Harriet heard the desperation in his voice.
‘It’s a forbidden love I now feel for you…along with so much more,’ she answered, rising to stand on tiptoes to really kiss him and feel the brush of his penis against her belly. She felt the flush o wetness between her legs as he pushed it between them, the hem of her nightdress around her waist, before he caressed her fanny’s lips once more in slow strokes of his agile fingers as if they were in a dance.
‘I’ll love you as only I can,’ Lothar kissed as he undressed her and crushed midyat escort Harriet to him, felt the brush of her hard nipples on his chest as she lifted her to him. They soon fell back on the bed, his penis pressing at her wet slit, the tip caressing her parted pussy lips but going no further.
She arched her back and groaned in dismay. ‘I can’t stop you…don’t want to stop you….or…not yet!’
‘Are you sure about this?’ he kissed, pressing his face to her mound and sliding his tongue over her, Harriet lifting her hips to meet her son’s practised claims upon her trembling body, the grip of her hands guiding, and not restraining, him.
‘Yes darling, I’ve been lost without you these last few weeks…since we stopped loving! No one else matters…no one!”
Harriet felt again the swirl of emotions, of unbridled lust and restraint, the forsaking of rules that she had lived her life by, love and anger that her much-loved boy sought to claim her in these destructive and future-less ways. Somehow, they had to navigate through the storm of emotions that so often overwhelmed them.
She raised her hips from the bed as he slowly entered her receptive body, dismissed the thought of who had fanned the embers of what they had once shared. It was far from her mind.
2
‘Lothar, no darling, no…stop…please! You can’t love me again…I ache where you’ve been!’ Harriet gasped and tried to push her lustful son away, her thoughts in turmoil after what she had succumbed to and then shared with him, his fingers and tongue devastating any control she had sought to exercise before he had again claimed her. Lothar had been wild, the raging physical pleasure, so quickly discovered, again at odds with her guilty conscience of all that they pursued with each other behind closed doors. Her son’s offers of comfort, some months ago, had become a consensual relationship that defied conventional decency. ‘It’s a sin that we’ve done this again…you know it is!’
Lothar rested on his elbows, pressed down on her as Harriet’s legs were draped over his thighs. He delighted in the glow on Harriet’s skin and the warmth of it against his belly. In spite of her calls to him, she caressed his back in long slow strokes of her nimble fingers, squeezed the skin of his buttocks. She squirmed in her efforts to keep him from reclaiming her, their skins warm to the touch, the languour bestowed by their ebbing passion making her crave for moments of rest, but with Lothar remaining close by her side.
‘But you still asked me to be here like this…to have sex and take you out of yourself…to screw…for us to make love…call it what you want. I care enough to want to help you through in every crazy way that you want…that you wanted from me moments ago, and even from the first times we shared in this.’
His blunt ways of speaking astonished her for the expression of a truth. Neither could claim to have been truly reluctant to share the acts that had overwhelmed them once more. She felt dazed by the intensity of their loving acts, who they were to each other no hindrance. Days had passed when they scarcely saw each other, Lothar busy once more with his university coursework; she trying to get back into her world of work, but quiet nights making her brood on what had been shared with him; also what she had succumbed to in conceding to Andreas. With that man there was no emotional bond, something that could not be said of her continued involvement with Lothar, with whom she had felt an aching tension whenever je was close and that could be satisfied only by sharing the heat, his touch soon breaking down her resolve not to concede and know of her boy once more, his touch and voice, his attention to her so like her lost love, Carsten.
What she had done, what they had shared excused nothing but explained everything.
‘I don’t know what to do…about any of this,’ she moaned in dismay, meeting his soft smile and holding his look upon her. ‘I…we…we have broken every rule and I don’t know what to do…if we can ever get back to how it once was…a mother with a devoted son…not a lover.’
How strange to now feel that she had betrayed him, her son, in pursuing a fling with Andreas. Her bond with Lothar was only too real, deep, and livid in its purpose of finding a way through after Carsten’s loss. But to stop was to confront a harsher reality, that of a lonelier life in her home. She was using her amorous and gifted boy for her own selfish ends. Harriet met his disbelieving look, her words at odds with what had been rediscovered so tempestuously. They had again fallen into an abyss of taking and offering pleasure, shared climaxes soon claiming them in drugging waves of release. Her son had aroused the basest of needs in the search of distracting comfort, once more, and now seemed unafraid to remind her of it.
‘Yes, you do…wonderfully so. I love every moment with you and what I can touch milas escort and kiss…all of your body.’ She sought to push his questing hands away as Lothar held her to him. ‘Harriet…please?’
She reached between them and clamped a hand to his prick that stabbed into her belly, then slid between her thighs, to feel it arousing the gnaw of longing coursing through her body with every slicked caress. She heard his low, persuasive voice, felt his breaths on her enervated skin as Lothar sought her concession to his ways once more. He couldn’t force himself on her, now that she had given voice to her conscience, but that ignored the effect upon him of being able to hold her, naked, in his arms and to have claimed her moist heat. They had shared in the tempestuous acts of loving and spending and done that in each other’s arms. He’d offered solace of a wayward but passionate kind and wanted more of her.
‘Darling, you know I get lost in these ways with you…’ She met a slow kiss to her face, then lips as a questing hand simply cupped her mound and two fingers pressed slowly into her slit.
‘And I can’t turn these feelings off, just like that,’ he said petulantly.
‘I know, and neither can I…I realise again, now. I needed special moments again…but can’t bear to think too far ahead. Everything is still so raw…Andreas played on that…took advantage of me.’
‘But I never did…and I was helping you through those moments, as I did again tonight…’
He gazed down wonderingly at her breasts, so full and round, and he bent to kiss their tips, felt Harriet’s hands guide him in his claims upon them. She caressed his hips with her thighs and clung to him, breathed in their shared heat and the musky aroma of the sex that had been shared.
‘You can show me what you feel in other ways…’
‘Perhaps…’
Lothar paid no further attention to what she said to dismiss what had happened and what he wanted from her again. His weight bore down upon her, and he pushed on her thighs to have her spread them wider before he slowly thrust into her warmth, Harriet’s muscles soon clamping on his questing prick. He proceeded slowly and judged whether what she had told him were just words to delay the inevitable and what her horny son needed from her.
‘You’ve helped me through again…but don’t force me to do tis again! I’ll get through…and you need help with what you ask of me!’ She gripped his hips to slow his sinuous movements as he moved to coax her into abandoning any thoughts of stopping what he was doing, and the slow rise of pleasure, and unquenchable yearning, that his ways in her aroused.
‘You really want me to see that counsellor again?’ he asked derisively, his breaths hot on her face, ‘when she’s done nothing but talk…wants me to accept that our dependency on each other is somehow wrong. I sure know that, and won’t say how far that has gone, but the cure’s harder to accept…when you’re all broken up and need a special friend…comfort of a different kind and I bring that to you.’
Throughout his explanation he kissed and caressed her, slowly moved deep within her and she had struggled to resist his ways, Lothar’s intuition that her restrained responses still revealed a wish to love with him again.
Her boy was in her and all that had to happen was for her to concede and a frenzied fuck, for there was no other word to describe what they shared in, could resume or be pursued once more.
She slowed him still further in his ways, yet felt the flare of unbearable yearning for him, how his gorged penis filled and stretched her, caressed the walls of her pussy as he gave her time to accept what would happen again.
‘Please, Lothar!’ she gasped, pushing feebly on his hips, her feet thrashing on the bed as his moves slowly increased in tempo, his long strokes followed by a rush of quick strokes then easing back to slow, rhythmic, thrusts. ‘Please stop…talk to your counsellor…’
‘I get more sense and understanding from you…’
He kissed her into silence, then claimed her breasts in his mouth as the tip of his arcing penis caressed her opening, teased her with its width, before he thrust in again without restraint until he could go no further.
‘Lothar!’ she yelled, knowing that she’d lost it, that she was a goner in restraining him or stopping their wild rut She stopped struggling and instead chose to lie still on her bed. Her legs were spread wide, her knees up to her shoulders, and he gave her no chance to lower them. He wanted her to close around him and to work him, bring him on and for him to really fuck her body, to feel her legs and arms wrapped around his body as he brought the wildest of comfort to her and pleasure to him.
‘You…you just spear me…spear your mother with that penis of yours! Let me feel it…let me know that you love me in what you ask of me!’ she cried out, his movements within her arousing responses, had her buck her hips and her muscles to clamp on his prick as if she’d tear it from him, her practised movements making him gasp or to silence his cries against her breasts. The bed slammed against the wall, but they thought it of no consequence. No one would hear the noise they made, their calls and the rhythmic creaking of the bed an accompaniment to their soaring need to be like this.
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