Jousting With Mom and Dad

Readers, this deleted sex scene would occur somewhere in the first chapter of the series At World's End. It's a quickie so the context isn't so important, though if you haven't read that series, do so and I think you enjoy it, too.

Jousting With Mom And Dad

The end of the world made us all thirsty, especially my mother

There's nothing to compare to the feeling of the end of the world. The disorientation of the loss of outside contact and the whole technological framework that enabled that, the slow acceptance of the idea that we were truly the only three people on the planet and the surprising rise of libido in that mountaintop wilderness made us all, let's say, careful, when we interacted with each other. Up until my mother convinced us that she and I had to copulate to save the species.

We each understood the pragmatic reasons I had sex with my mother and the 'sensible' decision to make it group sex most often going forward. After that first time it took a couple of days for the new paradigm to establish itself in our minds. We'd stepped back from the brink, not attempting to procreate, while we adjusted emotionally. Our bodies, on the other hand, were dictating a different and unequivocal protocol.

Nine months since The Event and two days since we'd consummated our incestuous but necessary relationship, my mother, ever the rational scientist, sat us down for a family meeting-slash-strategy session. As usual now that morning she was topless, I wore my homemade kilt and dad just a very worn pair of jeans when we sat around the kitchen table that we'd dragged out into the yard in the sunlight.

Around us the forest hummed with life. Our little enclave garden beside the administrative building of the Station had been hard won through our physical labors. The flank of the mountain rose above us in arboreal glory. I no longer worried that the forest would die off from human-kind's casual appropriation of its 'resources'. Instead it began to take on the mystery and ominous presence of one of those ancient and wise woods from pre-history. It was a little more imposing every day.

There was a vaguely perceived wisdom in that wilderness - so much larger and more complicated than our small band of homo-sapiens. Even though I'd come to know the couple of square miles around our sanctuary I became more awed by what I didn't know about the forest, unnerved sometimes by the unknowable majesty of the enduring trees. They would outlive me. Our efforts to make offspring were the only way any humans would live to see how the new world changed.

And so sitting there at that table, feeling insignificant, I realized that this powerful drive to mate was nature's way of making sure some humans did survive in spite of the daunting prospects that our minds perceived. Our bodies carried the spark that would drive us all forward against the odds.

It's hard to describe the magnetic pull my body felt toward my mother's. I wanted to take those heavy mammaries in my mouth and hear her wail again. I sat there across from her, erect and eager, the urge pushing rational thought to the margins. In my father's eyes I saw that same hunger and no vestige of his initial reluctance to my taking her and making her pregnant.

Mom tapped the table for attention, clearly struggling to concentrate, too. Her blond hair glowed in the sunlight, freckles scattered across her skin like chocolate sprinkles on a sundae. My instincts drew these associations around devouring her. I wanted to taste her pussy again. I wanted to run my tongue from her mouth to her mons and savor her salted-caramel skin. I wanted to nibble on her cute little up-turned sunburnt nose.

"Jack, do you understand me?" she said sharply, "Will you remember the gravity of our situation? Please." I think having had sex with her had seriously changed our power status. Her irritation didn't immediately make me cringe, afraid of a mother's scolding. I raised my eyes from her chewy-looking nipples and smiled.

"It's your beauty that distracted me, mom." I looked at her with the pent up longing of 48 hours of celibacy. I hadn't even wanked, thinking we might fall into bed any minute. But she was trying to be intelligent about the situation.

"That's what I'm talking about. We need to focus on surviving - the garden, salvaging what we can and all the mundane stuff, not sex." She was struggling, obviously, with the same drives as dad and I, despite herself. She pinched a nipple as she made that speech. Her brow wasn't furrowed with frustration about those mundane things, but about her desire, I would bet. I knew she felt it as strongly as I did or why would she have initiated the whole thing?

Well, she was Pandora and it was her box, so to speak. She'd opened it and now we were all living the consequences of her making herself available to both of us.

"I hear what you're saying," dad offered, "but I'm too horny to focus when I'm tinkering with the radio or even when I'm sharpening fence stakes."

"Well, we can't just be screwing every time we feel like it..." she stated firmly, leaving the can we? unsaid. Now she had a finger drawing circles absentmindedly around that hard nipple.

I reached into my kilt to squeeze my rampant cock. Funny, I'd never had it this bad with Ginny back at school. Of course we enjoyed the sex, but neither of us let it prevent us from studying. I'd never been overwhelmed by desire to the point of stupidity. My intellect was definitely taking a back seat to lust.

"What if we find out how often we have to screw to relieve this pressure?" I said, not hiding that I was playing with myself.

"That seems like a good working hypothesis, Mel," said dad, leaning forward and reaching for his wife's other nipple. She didn't bat his hand away.

"What's your supposition of results? Dare to speculate?" My mother seemed to welcome the faux scientific premise he'd proposed. Her body wanted ours, clearly, as much as ours wanted her juicy, red and swollen flesh. I could smell her. Maybe that was a re-invigorated vestigial sense that came with our newly re-wilded situation. The sniff of her arousal only made me hornier.

"Once a day? Twice?" Dad mused, "We'll only know if we experiment."

"Parameters?" Mom ventured, just barely clinging to the rational approach. She was literally squirming in her seat. Sweat had beaded on her forehead. Her hair hung loose. She bit her lips and that smoldering look had crept into her eyes. Her mouth said one thing, but her eyes said OH God, fuck me right now!

"Let's keep the parameters simple," I said, "Whenever one of us feels driven to sex, we ask you if you're willing and then just do it."

"Of course, if you feel driven you can ask one of us, too," Dad said, playing along with the farce this was becoming, "or both of us." The tension between us was almost an audible buzz in the air.

"Oh, I'll keep a record of date and time and duration, of course," I said. "Should I record our respective impressions of the quality of the copulation?" Mom looked pained. She restrained herself from grabbing dad's face and kissing him, it appeared, while trying to keep the discussion on topic. Although the topic and our need to merge our bodies were quickly becoming the same thing.

"Maybe a scale of one to five, Jack?" Clearly she accepted the premise of dad's hypothesis, "though it might miss the nuance," she added. All that was left was to begin the experiment.

She leaned forward and kissed my father with gusto, working her fingers in his hair. I stood up and the gap of my kilt parted around my cock, standing tall and purple. I wanted her mouth on it soon. The adept sucking she'd given me our first time had only made me hungrier. I still hadn't filled her mouth with spunk and I wondered if the stipulation that I make her pregnant would mean she'd be reluctant to end me that way. All the more reason to experiment. I was willing to bet that a young stud like me had enough motile sperm to spend a few extra million down her throat.

"Let's go to the bed," I said, remembering the mirrors and realizing I'd been too into the sex that first time to watch us doing it. I simply walked away, cock wagging. They followed.

In the cooler room where the curtains filtered out the sun, with our shoes kicked off, we stood for a moment, each at our own threshold. For me, it was the realization that the other day wasn't an aberration, that it wasn't a one-off. For dad, maybe something similar, the acceptance of my now equal role in the bedroom. For mom, I was sure no doubt at all remained of the 'rightness' of our sex, but maybe she still struggled with the idea that this was a distraction from our survival efforts. It was all the same to me - survival depended as much on my impregnating her as in growing potatoes.

And if some atavistic and overpowering drive to fuck made us pound each other senseless then I was happy to be along for the ride. I dropped my kilt quickly. Civilization fell away from us as we fell into bed.

I lay on mom's right, dad on her left and we each took a nipple in our mouths. Our hands busied themselves first with removing clothes. Dad shimmied out of his jeans and we both found a way to pull mom's skirt down over those broad breeder hips of hers. She raised up to make it easier, moaning at our suckling.

Then our hands had better things to do. Dad and I both knew to go slow with using our fingers to explore her sex. It radiated wanting and that smell of her filled the room. I almost could taste it in the air. Senses that had atrophied were coming back to life in us.

I remembered that mom didn't like to be fingered inside, but really responded to gentle manipulation of all the external tissues of her vulva. Though we bumped into each other, dad and I each found a gentle practice in slowly moving our fingertips through the swollen, wet flesh. Mom groaned and rocked her pelvis into our touching. I dragged my nails down her inner thigh while dad pulled on her hanging labia, smearing her wetness across her clit, teasing it.

He brought a sticky finger up and pushed it between my mouth and mom's nipple, watching my smile of appreciation at the sweet, iron-tang flavor.

"Jack on top," said mom curtly, urgently pulling on my arm to drag me over her body. Her legs were widespread and limp when I spanned myself above her. "Ron, my mouth!" she ordered.

Dad stood on the other side of the bed and ran his hands under her shoulders, dragging her, pulling her head over the edge. She opened her mouth as wide as her legs and whined. I'd never known a woman so thirsty. Of course, I'd only been with Ginny and each time we made love we were opening new territory, crossing a line into a new wonder. Was it OK to bite? Can I rub your butthole? Will you swallow?

With mom it was as if the very idea of boundaries didn't exist. She wanted what she wanted. At least her body did even if her mind put up a futile fight to have some control. This was unrestrained desire that must have been unlocked by The Event somehow. Maybe, like dad supposed, our precariousness triggered a deep drive that in 'civilization' had lain dormant.

This was like a porn video without the pretense of passion, without the fake boobs or fake orgasms. It was what watching those vids could stir up in a guy like me, but without the obvious artifice. I was fucking my mother who'd become the biggest slut a man could imagine and who at the same time remained a careful scientist and caring parent. And dad and I were the ultra studs of every porn producer's wet dream, hard and tanned and lean. We could have made a fortune if there was anyone to watch.

I remembered the mirrors. I'd watch.

There I was arched over my mother, my cock dripping on her belly, my arms stiff and muscled from all the hard work of the last ten months and my tanned and sweaty body giving off its own musk.

Her neck stretched long to take dad's thick organ into her wide mouth. He held her head gently as he pressed himself down. She arched her back and reached for my cock. I knew what she wanted - I eased forward and down for her to socket me into her sex. I felt the searing heat of her and the wet slickness of that flesh stretching to take me in.

Slowly, I let gravity bring us together. Though we were all exceptionally aroused, we retained at least a little sensitivity to the other's pleasure. I could have rammed deep and pumped until I filled her and achieved the aim of my DNA and my overclocked libido. But I knew to try to make it last, to attenuate the rising flames of our desire. At least I tried...

The slippery slide of her tissues along my shaft, the resistance of her vagina to my incursion, the trembling of her body as I impaled her called on me to hurry. In the mirrors I watched a desperately horny woman take two thick cocks. Dad and I found a rhythm, pushing into our willing slut together then pulling back and watching her writhe with the need building in her.

Mom scratched at my biceps and kicked my ass in eagerness. She found a way to let dad deep in her throat. I could see his cock bulge her neck when he pushed. Snot blew from her nose when he pulled back and she sucked air.

When she had a chance, dad holding his knob on her lips so she could catch her breath, she said, "Fuck me... just fuck me!" Well I guess in the spirit of the experiment we should just indulge our inescapable urges. If she wanted it fast, I could honor that.

It didn't take long for me to ramp my arousal to eleven. I simply began pumping into her squishing sex. Mom was driven down into the mattress, moaning around dad's shaft, wiggling as her own peak neared. I watched me piston into her, liking to see myself disappear deep into my mother's body. The mirror gave me the side view, looking down I saw my cock part her labia, pulling the thick tissue out when I retreated. She quaked with every thrust. Her breasts shook and flopped, hard nipples red and tight.

"I'm gonna fucking fill you with baby batter, mom," I gasped as I neared release, "Ready?"

She gurgled around the thick, shining cock that stretched her lips. I took that as a yes.

"Dad?" I asked and he smiled and nodded. He was pumping faster, driving deeper, not stopping to let her catch her breath. I wondered if they'd ever been so rough with each other. His whole body was stiff, veins popping with the effort of aiming his cock just right down her throat while letting nature take him over. He put his head back and howled.

White foam gushed from the corners of mom's mouth and she went stiff, too, raising up her hips. I grabbed her ass and pulled her onto my prong. The clamp of her body on me, both the clutch of her legs, the grasping of her arms and the convulsions of her vagina drew the semen from my balls. I arched back and just let my body do what it needed to do. Deep into her I poured my seed with pound after pound after pound of my knob, fighting through that inner grip she had on it.

The foam ran from my end of her, too, as I churned our juices. She became too slippery with sweat to hold and I fell away from her, spraying an arc of cum across her body. I dribbled on her leg.

She stayed arched up off the bed as the orgasm ran through her, still taking dad balls deep in her mouth, racked with pleasure until her feet slowly slid and she sank back down. Dad, looking wild and exhausted, pulled his organ from her lips. The spume drained down across her cheeks and she didn't seem to care. We'd sent her into some other dimension. I'm not sure she was even conscious. I barely hung on to my own sense of self as I flopped down beside her and put a hand on her tit, easing the joy from our bodies with a gentle, rhythmic squeezing.

Dad just fell face down on her other side and indulged his own unconsciousness. We were learning to just ride along on these libido-induced adventures. I didn't wonder if either of them had lost their minds or if somehow the sex itself would make them different people between lovemaking sessions. I wanted to do it again as soon as possible. But the denouement dragged on for quite a while. At the same time I didn't care. Let the experiment unfold without my intervention.

After a while as the sweat cooled on my body and our breathing slowed, mom cleared her throat and said hoarsely, "There's something I've been wanting to try." Her eyes were still closed and she lay there completely fucked on the bedspread, limp.

Dad murmured a 'hmmm?" of curiosity, not moving, still drooling into his beard.

"I want to suck you both together. My men as equals."

It wasn't clear to me what she meant. Hadn't she done that two days ago? "Whadda ya mean?" I mumbled.

She stirred slowly, finding strength again, getting on her knees then easing off the matress. "Turn yourselves so your heads are at opposite ends of the bed..."

It wasn't easy to fight the torpor of that powerful pounding, but I dragged myself to the side. Dad did what she instructed, our legs tangling for a moment, the sweat still noticeably slicking us.

"Now scootch your selves closer... put your right leg over your dad's left, Jack, and Ron you do the same." This was complicated in my fucked-out state, but I went along.

"Scootch until your balls meet," she said, helping to arrange our legs. That was a weird, new feeling, to have my body so entwined with another man's. His flesh was warm and wet where we overlapped. "I'm going to bring you both off again," she whispered and knelt by the bed, grasping each of our cocks in a hand. We were separated only by her fingers wrapped around each spent shaft.

In the mirrors I saw my mother the sex goddess, hair a mess, crust of cum on her face, body flushed, boobs stiff with arousal, kneeling over us two new neanderthals. I was thinking that those primitive ancestors whose DNA made up as much as five percent of ours might be the source of this raging libido, this unchecked urge to mate. Why was I thinking at all?

My brain went off line again when she took me in her mouth. Vaguely, I wondered at her ability to dive right in after how brutally dad had plowed her throat. But I couldn't argue with the result - I began to rise again. This was what I'd wanted, my cock wantonly attended to by my mother's loving mouth.

She stroked dad and his eyes darted from the mirrors to the real thing. He dragged a pillow over to prop himself to watch. I saw him thickening, too. It was reasonable to assume that our raging libido came with a shorter refractory period. It all fit. The raging desire, the stamina in the act, the quicker recovery all gave egg and sperm the most opportunities to meet.

My mother drooled thick and wet and warm down across my balls. Then she switched to sucking dad and stroking me, rubbing my wetness on her downy cheek.

I'd seen enough porn to know what was coming. Jousting, it was called, rubbing two cocks together like lances. It wasn't the most apt name, but neither is snowballing if you think about it.

Mom put our cocks against each other, slipping in the drool, hard again. It felt... odd. Hard, yet slick, hot and remarkably able to trigger the most sensitive parts. She wiped them across each other and our frenums rubbed, sending sparks of pleasure up my spine. Dad and I avoided each other's eyes, but we were entranced by the vision of this woman we adored finding another way to love us both at the same time.

Her wet hand didn't quite encompass both cocks. The other she used to anchor my base while she stroked us both. She played with angles and rotations, all of which just kept the heat rising again. I noticed my balls up against dad's, wet and slippery and hot - it felt like being licked.

Mom opened her mouth and pressed her lips down over both knobs together. God, it was tight. Her teeth raked my rim, but she was slow and gentle. Dad and I were as one shaft, pressed against the other's cock, piercing mom's lips, filling her mouth.

She squeezed the organs fiercely, trying to get as much of us in her as she could. Mom took her time adjusting, probing with her tongue, walking her lips down our shafts in her drool. She didn't look at us. She was in her own world.

Mom's breasts dangled at the edge of the mattress. I reached and palmed one, squeezing and lifting. Dad noticed and took the other. Mom made deep sounds in her throat that vibrated through our cocks. I felt his twitch. Mine twitched.

Then she demonstrated her willingness to take time on this round. Mom sucked for a bit, working us as deep as she could, then she stroked and licked, trailing her tongue all along our lengths, eyes closed, savoring. I saw my knob ooze and run down between our shafts. She greedily yet languidly lapped it up. Our pubes were matted with all the juices of this session - the earlier orgasms, her heavy drool, our own oozings. There was no lack of lubrication.

I realized I could just reach around her rump and finger her pussy. I found dad's fingers there, too. She dripped. Her vulva, still swollen and slick, she made accessible by moving her knees apart. Mom groaned, our cocks again vibrating with her pleasure. In the mirror I could see our hands playing between her spread cheeks, shiny with her juices.

She began to rise into another peak. We were getting a sense of each other's bodies and responses. With both of us stoking across her slippery labia and dad tweaking her clit, mom began breathing raggedly. She pushed her pussy back into our hands, she moved her mouth on our cocks with more vigor.

Now she jammed her mouth down eagerly, drooling hard, stroking and squeezing with her hands. I knew what she wanted. So did dad. We were ready to give it to her. We caught each other's eye. The breathless excitement of rising lust was there. So was a sort of wonder. And a kind of camaraderie. Mom had made us equals. There was no rivalry here, just the mutual adventure of a new life. It felt too good to be bothered by the idea that our cocks were jammed together and sliding in the same goo, sucked by the same woman, moving against each other in a muscular surrender to pleasure.

Dad diddled her clit the way she liked best. I ran a wet finger up along her blossomed pussy lips and rubbed her butthole. I circled the wrinkled pucker and pressed a fingertip against that rubbery resistance. With the tenderest of strokes I fucked her ass with my fingertip.

We felt my mother go stiff. She felt our cocks begin to prime for explosion, hardening in her mouth, stiffening in her hands, expressing the thick ooze of our impending release. I felt dad's first bolt swell his shaft and his body jerk. He barked as the force took him over. Mom groaned around us and it shook me to orgasm.

My mother did her best to keep us together. My hips jerked and I spouted a great, thick knot of cum in her mouth. She let it all run out with dad's to bubble down over her fingers. She whined high and loud as her body curled over us and we erupted. It was a delighted whining - she was happy for our spunk. And we kept it pouring from our balls. Dad and I both spasmed, spewing and jerking as she hung on and tried to keep her mouth on us both.

As the peak passed she pulled us out and rubbed us on each cheek. We painted her with our last thick jets of white. Clots of us ran down her face and dripped from her lips. Mom shook from our skilled fingering, her pussy squeezing out a thin, hot cream that trailed to the floor.

Finally, she lay her head on dad's belly and just gently stroked our cocks, looking at them with a kind of awed wonder. Could she be happier? Could I be happier? The apocalypse had pleasures unimagined before it happened. Maybe our inner primitives simply knew better how to enjoy life on the edge.

"I'm going to call that a five, Jack," she said, still pulling the last drops from us, rubbing our softening knobs together.

"Mmm, yeah, a five for me..." sighed dad.

It was just as well that I didn't have any paper to waste on making a spreadsheet because I figured that we were looking at hitting a solid string of fives from then on.