Literotic asexstories – Destiny's Child Ch. 02 – The Conclusion by Drvn2madness,Drvn2madness
As you can guess, things did not unfold as my parents had planned. Instead of heading to the first university, I headed to the airport. When mom realized this, she asked me what I was doing, and I told her, “The idea of me going to school and leaving her behind was not going to happen,” and for that, I got one of those ‘ahhhhs’ which spoke of endearment.
“Since visiting places I wouldn’t consider, was a waste of time, I booked a last-minute vacation at a resort in the Dominican Republic.”
Another, “Ahhhh.”
There was excitement in her, as I explained we would have five days, four nights, with no rules, or the need to hide. We would finally be able to be like regular adults, have date nights, couples experiences and express our love openly.
She held my hand in her own; it was warm, soft, and made me feel important.
I chose to park close to the terminal, knowing that it would cost more, but also aware that besides gaining protection from the elements in the multi-level structure, I had a chance for a quickie, pre-flight. See I had it all worked out. I parked and started to collect the stuff, and once I was on mom’s side of the car, I asked if she grabbed the sunscreen.
Knowing she hadn’t, since I actually didn’t purchase any, I waited for the inevitable, “Honey, I can’t find it.”
“Try the center console,” I urged, as I moved into position. Then, in one quick motion, I ran a hand under her skirt. The first touch had her falling over, but when I reached her panties, she began to struggle back.
“Come on, mom,” I urged. “I just want a tiny taste.”
“Desmond Anthony Hargreaves,” she began, and I knew using my full name was the ‘I mean business’ tone, but I still managed one solid lick. She seemed for a moment to falter, as her body jerked and slipped a bit deeper in the car, so I licked again.
“Desmond,” came the next plea, but this one didn’t have much command behind it.
On the third lick, I began inching a finger inside, and the response was, “Oh you,” before it strangled off into a kind of gurgled moan.
It was easier now, as her body accommodated my advances. There was no struggle to stop me from licking and probing, and her thighs began to run with signs of excitement. One knee rose up to rest upon the seat, giving this glorious artistic pose of flashing stockings, heels and panties. I wanted a picture, but couldn’t risk stopping, so I licked faster and added a second finger.
Suddenly, a sweet long, “Ohhh, fuck me, baby,” escaped her lips, and I was already prepared.
My other hand had released and was stroking my cock, so on hearing the urgings, it moved up and sank inside. Even from this short tease, I could feel the shaking in her legs, but I didn’t let it overly distract me.
Long, slow strokes sank again and again, until the air was filled with, “Oh baby. Oh, fuck me. Oh, fuck me, baby.” So, I sped up.
Now the sweet sound of, “Oh Desmond, you’re going to make mommy cum, baby. Faster, faster.”
I teased her with a little, “So should I stop, then?”
“If you do, I’ll cut it off and finish myself.” (I smile every time I recall that answer.)
It was no more than a dozen strokes though, before she screamed out, “YES!”
Then she calmed enough that they couldn’t hear her in Alaska. I knew I wanted to finish, but was also aware that if I kept it up, we’d have no energy to get to the plane. So I slowed, until just heavy panting remained, then pulled out and put my equipment away.
As I pulled mom out of the car, and slowly escorted her through the terminal, I asked if she felt better. And I got a very satisfying, if somewhat dreamy, “Mmm-hmm.”
On the plane itself, I asked mom if she was ready for this. She smiled, saying it was the nicest gift anyone had ever gotten her. I explained that I intended to take her dancing, horseback riding, scuba diving, and to literally rock her world. Suddenly, a memory flashback reminded me of those very words and how that turned out.
I struggled with that, but it was quickly swept away, when she simply said, “You already have.”
She kissed me there at thirty-five-thousand feet and I melted into it, but a stewardess came by and asked if we’d like a drink. Mom said she would have a gin and tonic and I said I didn’t need alcohol to dull my senses, then pretended to tickle mom.
The stewardess laughed, a kind of fake laugh, I thought, then she asked, “So cute, have you been married long?”
Mom instantly piped in, “Forty-seven days,” and I looked at her smiling from ear to ear.
In my head, I did the calculations, and replied, “You remembered.” For it had, indeed, been forty-seven days since the police officer unofficially proclaimed us to be husband and wife.
“I guess that makes this our honeymoon,” I offered, with a raised playful eyebrow.
To which she offered, “Hope you remembered to pack the resuscitation kit, then.”
I watched as she used the hem of her skirt as a fan, feigning overheating, and how the garter clasps winked in and out of sight. I knew she had done it purposefully and said nothing.
Suddenly, a hand appeared in front of me with a drink. Naturally, it was the stewardess who I had forgotten all about, and as she handed over the drink, she smiled and winked.
I want to say this evolved into a wild inflight free-for-all, but mostly, we talked and just enjoyed the moment. Part of the conversation, though, was that she had written to the young man from the DNA site again, but sadly he had not written back. She wondered why and asked if I might offer any insight, since I was just about his age.
Let me tell you, it is hard to play both sides of the field and I really wanted to come clean, but forever in my mind rested the thought, that if she knew the truth, everything would change. In the end, I decided to tell her that perhaps it was hard to accept that everything you knew was wrong. That he may need time to accept his destiny – to which mom let out a tiny chuckle.
I guess I had a questioning look because she explained that after he was gone, she couldn’t face the world, the reporters, or the infamy, so she changed her name to Delores. She was born though Destiny, and my saying he needed time to accept destiny, just seemed humorous.
I tried to act all wise and mature, telling her, there really weren’t a lot of choices here. She could continue to write to the young man, in the hopes he would eventually respond, or she could try to give him time. She always knew she wanted him in her life, but he only had a few months to even process this. She had fifteen years of looking, and he had only two months of learning his fate.
At this point, mom interrupted, saying, “What do you mean fifteen years?”
I responded, “Well figuring a high-school crush and sex on prom night, that would have made you eighteen. Add to it nine months gestation that brings you closer to nineteen. Subtract that from your age of thirty-four and you have a son who is fifteen. I knew, of course, this was wrong, but sometimes it is best to play oblivious than shine a light on the truth.
Mom, though, chuckled and said, “That’s pretty good, and almost right. My son is actually nineteen not fifteen, and it was junior prom not senior.
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In case there are any nitpickers out there, let me say I know I am supposed to be twenty, but remember doctors had to guess my age and only mom knew my actual birthday.
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“So DNA results come back and say you are the mother, but if his life is to be believed, that means either his or your results were mixed up, you were wrong about who the father was, or he was inadvertently switched at birth.
“If he thinks beyond that, and outright believes your version, then his parents are kidnappers, purchasers of a child on the black market, or adopters, which, in the latter case, means he was stolen – most likely abused, found, could not be identified, and reclassified to be available in the adoption system. Since it was so publicly reported, that means he likely was transported out of state; otherwise, the connection once he’d been found would have been tested and reviewed.
“Simply put – you laid in his lap a conundrum. If he follows up with you, he puts his family or himself at risk of jail or worse. If he were to ask his mom or dad and they were guilty of such a horrendous crime, what would they do to keep the story quiet? If they were not guilty, how do they explain not telling him of his adoption after nineteen years? Surely, it was going to come out and the longer they waited, the more rebellious his reaction.
“There is a chance you might never know him, but no matter how life unfolded from this point on, at least you had a measure of closure. You now knew he had a life, which didn’t have to be the case. Sure you were not a part of it, but there is comfort knowing he had at least lived, and was continuing to do so.”
Mom kissed me after that, thanked me for the wisdom of my words and for being her rock to lean upon. It gave her a lot to think about, and even some idea of the struggles he must now be faced with. She snuggled up and hugged me tightly saying, “You have such a beautiful, romantic mind; I am glad you are my husband.”
There was a long moment of silence, before mom spoke again. “Des, can I ask you something?”
“Sure mom, anything.”
“Should I stay married to your father?”
Wow! I mean WOW! How the hell was I supposed to answer that?
I guess I was silent for a long time because mom started to speak again. “I know it’s a hard question, Des, but I have been thinking about it a lot. I mean I thought I loved him, but then you grew up and you changed everything. At first, I thought it was just because you kinda look like my high-school sweetheart, but I know it’s more. Every moment I get to spend with you, feels right. And every time I am with your dad, I feel like I am cheating on you and it breaks my heart. I want to be just yours, Des.”
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