A Taste of Incest - Spirits

Jay's cum was nothing like that. It smoked and burnt and bubbled. It washed inside me like a tide of lava. It flooded imy womb and radiated into my omentum and leaked into my nerves, my spinal cord, my circulatory system, everything. My blood boiled. My heart sang. My brain exploded.

And Jay spasmed, and bellowed, and fell onto me. I barely felt his weight.

We lay together for I do not know how long. I pulled his mouth to mine. We breathed together, in and out, gentler than fucking but just as intense. You know 'soul' means 'breath'? We shared our breaths. We shared our souls.

Jay rolled off me. We lay side by side, not gasping, not breathing normally, but somewhere in between, just as we were in between joy and pain, life and death, the past and the future.

Jay turned to me and held me close. He kissed me lightly, sweetly. No tongue, just soft, warm lips. A kiss of love and promise and eternity and just the slightest hint of cranberry vodka.

"I have to go, Mom," he whispered. He held me tight and kissed me again. "I love you, Mom. I'll love you forever. Never forget that." He rolled off the bed and walked naked out the bedroom door.

I wanted to call after him. "Wait," I would say. "Wait, where are you going? Why are you going? Come back!" I wanted to call but my voice did not respond to my instructions. Why did my voice fail me?

I lay back in bed. I felt ecstaic and dazed and well-fucked and lonely and...

And the doorbell rang. What, now?! It rang again.

I crawled out of bed and looked for a robe. Not the one I wore earlier; that was in the living room, and anyway it was positively indecent for strangers to see. I found a worn, heavy, ugly-green hausfrau winter-night's covering to drape over my flushed nakedness. I staggered to the front door.

I pushed the intercom button. "Who's there?" I sounded grumpy, even to me.

"Police. Is this the Govinda residence? Hello?"

Police? What? I cinched the ugly robe tighter around me, hit the porch light switch, and opened the door.

Two uniformed cops stood outside. Black and white, young and old, short and tall, just like the stereotypes in the movies.

"Yes?" I was still dazed.

"Are you Mrs Govinda?" the short fat old bald white one asked.

"Yes." I started to worry.

"Is your son Jayant Govinda, nineteen years old?"

"Yes." I felt my blood pressure rise.

"Mrs Govinda, I'm very sorry to have to tell you this, but your son was killed in a traffic accident earlier tonight, about three hours ago. His car was blindsided by a cargo truck that ran a red light. His death was probably instantaneous."

I said nothing. I felt changes in my body. My head...

The next I knew, I was lying on my couch. A blanket covered me. The young tall black officer knelt beside me, holding a glass of water to my lips.

"Mrs Govinda?" he asked. "I know better than to ask how you feel, but I must ask: How do you feel?"

"Jay is dead? But he was just..."

I was going to say, "But he was just here. He just left, only a few minutes ago." That is what I meant to say. But I looked around the living room where Jay had performed his strip-tease and tossed his clothes everywhere. There was no sign of his discarded Dracula costume.

Instead I asked, "Did you or the officer pick up anything in here?"

His eyes narrowed. "No. We can't do that unless we have a warrant or see signs of criminal activity. Why do you ask?"

"It's just... I thought... oh, I don't know what I thought. Jay is dead?"

I closed my eyes. My head...

The next I knew... I was in Hell. I do not believe in Heaven or Hell, not the monotheist kind, but I was there anyway. Hell looked like my living room but with police and an efficient paramedic and a kind clergyman of some monotheist sect, probably one of those Jesus-followers. I knew it was Hell because the smelling salts the medic held under my nose burned. And because everyone was looking at me. And because Jay was dead.

Ash came home for the funeral; Kendra came to comfort me; even my parents attended. I try not to remember any of that. Ash and I stood together at the funeral. He held my hand. He was always a kind man. He did not object when I asked him for a divorce.

How can I say this plainly? I fucked my son's ghost. And I loved it.

-----

Kamela snuggled against Nathan. Her hand still toyed with his semi-erect cock.

"Ash left me with lots of money and his good wishes. I moved from the city, traveled around a lot, mostly just camping out in quiet lonely places. I was up on the north coast when I ran into Nate. It was love at first sight. Or maybe second sight, you know, premonitions. We both thought we saw someone in our future. We were right."

Sara passed her the last beer bottle. "What about pregnancy?"

Kamela laughed. "I've been on The Pill forever, to keep my periods regular. And I don't think ghost sperm are viable anyway. So I've skipped that excitement." Nate's cock wiggled in her hand.

"You're the most exciting woman I've ever met, Kammy," Nate said. "As soon as I saw you on that pier with the wind blowing your hair crazily and you laughing at the approaching storm, I knew we were fated. We've done pretty well so far, right?"

She squeezed his cock. He stiffened immediately. "Right," she said, and dipped her mouth to him again.

The wind faded in the tree branches overhead. The campfire died down to little more than embers. Sleeping bags near the fire circle, and tents just beyond, hosted various sexual activities. Everyone fucked or sucked somebody. All were peaceful.

This Hallowe'en gathering proved once again that the family that lays together, stays together.

Author's note: This 2014 Hallowe'en contest entry by Hypoxia is copyright (c) and likely has no redeeming literary or social qualities. My immense thanks to the following STORY IDEAS FORUM contributors for their suggestions that evolved into episodes here: sweet_lusciousdesire for JAIME'S TALE; stlgoddessfreya for ELENA'S TALE; sirhugs for FRANZ TELLS; and laffalot for KAMALA'S TALE. Great ideas, folks! Alas, MIKE & MADISON is all my own fault. I lifted bad jokes from here'n'there.

Keep a watch for more standalone A TASTE OF INCEST pieces -- some adapted, some new, none depending on their predecessors -- but go ahead, read them all anyway. If you like these, VOTE!