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59.39% Taboo Incest sex stories / Chapter 2463: BEQUEATHED BY PROXY

Chapter 2463: BEQUEATHED BY PROXY

I was eighteen when my father, who had been diagnosed with cancer, had to give up work, resulting in him being home all day, much to mom's displeasure. Throwing his weight about, giving her orders, he virtually doubled her work load by expecting her to run around after him. Two years later he was confined to bed causing his demeanor to deteriorate further, continually shouting and upsetting her, and again increasing mom's work load. I was twenty when I realized the kitchen was mom's comfort zone, where she would hide away from my father's nagging, and where I could console her. I would wrap my arms around her waist, pull her close and nuzzle her neck while I told her how wonderful she was and how much I loved her. It was when I pressed myself up against her body that I started having sexual thoughts about this woman. Even though she wore drab and shabby clothes I recognized the sensual body and outstanding breasts concealed beneath.

She became the object of my fantasies, even asleep she dominated my subconscious, becoming the heroine of my dreams. In my fantasies, she never rejected my advances, allowing me to undress her, kiss and cuddle, explore her body and accept all my sexual ministrations. Sometimes I fantasized that after sucking her large plum size nipples I would tie them together so that I could work myself off between her tits. She would perform oral sex on me sucking, until I shot my load in her mouth. I would often dream about making love to her, shooting my seed into her womb. Occasionally I would even dream about taking her from behind to use her ass. In my fantasies I would force her naked body across my lap and give her a good spanking. After a while, providing she was still in that position I would slip and work my finger inside her causing her to have an orgasm.

Mother was not a forceful person in fact she was rather a timid soul, she had no friends or family apart from me and my father and rarely left the house. The majority of her day would be spent in the kitchen, away from my father, and would only go shopping if I accompanied her. It almost had a semblance of a nineteenth century household with a master overseeing a skivvy, with Jennifer being submissive and dominated by my father almost dictatorially. He ordered her around, even cruel at times, verbally that is. I never saw him abuse her physically but that wasn't to say he didn't, there were never any bruises to be seen on her face, arms or legs, as for the rest of her body I couldn't say. Although one night when I arrived home very late I could hear my father shouting at my mother. He wanted her to do something, I couldn't say what, and from the sound of it he threatened to pull her hair. He must have grabbed it and started pulling, because she screamed begging him to stop, I heard him shout at her telling her to be quiet.

Mother didn't drive and with my father confined to his bed she relied on me to take her wherever she wanted to go. Each week I would look forward in driving her to the mall, knowing it would be just the two of us alone in the car, even if it was for only twenty minutes just to take her shopping. Men would give her a brief glance then turn away, their interest becoming distracted elsewhere, unable to see the goddess beneath her shabby exterior. Because of my feelings for her I found it difficult to form a lasting relationship with other women, but was unable to tell her how I felt. I was twenty one and running a successful business from my office at home, when one day mother called to me.

"Scott your father would like a word with you."

She followed me into the bedroom; although my father was confined to bed he still chastised her.

"Jen did I ask for you to join us? I only need to talk to Scott, so get out and close the door behind you."

Father knew he was dying and didn't have much longer to live. He called me into his bedroom to instruct me how he thought I should look after my mother after his demise, which basically was how he treated her. Although I listened to his rhetoric, I had already made plans about my mother's future ensuring she wouldn't remain in her bed alone for very long.

He died several weeks later, my mother was upset but not heart broken. Since my father had taken to his bed, my life and behavior had been deliberately geared to ensure that my mother was reliant on me. She would say that I was the perfect son doing everything she asked driving her around, managing the garden and cleaning the pool. I continued to console her, flatter her, telling her how beautiful she was, and how much I loved her, while increasing the physical contact between us. Depending on our situation, as we talked I would place a hand on her shoulder, her arm, even the top of her thigh if we were sitting close to each other. She enjoyed my attention; it was more than my father ever gave her.

My plan was to allow my mother three months to mourn my father's death, during which I assumed his role of running the household, paying the bills and taking her shopping. Generally controlling her life, but in a nice way. As I explained, my mother was a submissive, and my father called her stupid because she couldn't organize herself or the house. He would write out a lists of daily chores she needed to carry out, check the items on her shopping list, crossing off any items he didn't think we needed. Of course over time mother only got worse. I refused to write out a list of household chores, if things continually got missed it would be mentioned casually in conversation. At first she would ask me to check the shopping list but that practice was gradually allowed to lapse, and if during the week she ran out of money, unless it was urgent, she just had to go without. By the end of the three months she had become more organized.

The last Saturday, three months after my father died I had arranged to take her out to dinner in the evening to a restaurant in another town, some two hours' drive, far enough away to avoid people we knew. I thought it would be the perfect setting as it was especially known for its romantic ambience, a dance floor and live band. My mother's wardrobe was shabby and old fashion, so I decided that she should have new clothes. As expected she really didn't want any new clothes, being quite content with her current wardrobe. However, I insisted that for an evening at the restaurant she needed new clothes. Two weeks before our date I suggested that we look on the internet to get some idea of what was available and suitable for the occasion. Even before we started I knew that our ideas for the style of dress she should wear were miles apart. As you can probably imagine my ideas were for a tight fitting, low cut dress to show off a little cleavage of her voluptuous breasts, and short, with the hem above the knee to show off her legs. Mother on the other hand started picking out high necked maxi length dresses. Fortunately she was still sufficiently timid for me to insist she needed modern new clothes, and eventually after wearing her down I got my own way.

We scanned the web sites discussing the pros and cons of the dresses until, what I thought was the perfect dress for her. She almost fainted when she saw the dress I finally picked out, having previously warned her there would be no discussion on the matter; she would wear what I chose. Her acceptance of the situation went better than I expected, although she did make the comment about them having a dress in her size and would it fit. I pointed to the form whereby the purchaser can submit their measurements to get the perfect fit. Now we were approaching an unexpected bonus in my life. When mother said that she cannot measure herself I offered to measure her and suggested that she go upstairs, get a tape measure, take off her dress, and return wearing only bra and panties. The look of shock on her face was priceless, and when she suggested that it was inappropriate, I asked the question what was the difference to wearing a bikini on a beach? The fact that mom never wears a bikini seemed to escape her, but she wandered upstairs muttering that it didn't seem right to stand in front of her son scantily dressed.

When she walked back into the sitting room, her hands were strategically placed over the more sensitive parts of her body. My initial thoughts were she needs new lingerie; although that's not strictly true, my initial thoughts were, look at the size of those tits. It was obvious that she was terribly embarrassed standing before me, but I acted nonchalantly as if it was an everyday event when actually I was boiling over inside. Having shown her the details of the form copied to a sheet of paper I took the tape measure from her hand. For the length of the dress I measured from the middle of her shoulder to a point about two inches above the knee, she thought it was too short, never having worn anything that short before.

Her blushes made her look so sensuous when I told her she would look wonderful, and the dress fantastic on her. Next I measured her waist which was a pretty nothing thing to do, although I did manage to slip my fingers under the waist band of her panties. Kneeling down to measure her hips I wrapped my arms around her to position the tape, while pressing my cheek against her panties breathing in her aroma, allowing my lips to rest against the upper part of her pubic mound. Measuring her bust size was for me the most exciting part of all. Placing the tape behind her I pressed my chest against her breasts. When bringing the tape to the front to complete the circle, I ensured my fingers brushed up against her nipples, as their shape was clearly defined beneath her bra. Unfortunately the tape kept slipping off and I had to hold the tape against her breasts to complete the measurements.

The thing which surprised me the most was the fact that while I was enjoying myself positioning the tape to measure her breasts, her nipples became hard and enlarged, increasing in size quite considerably. Just for devilment, and to let her know that I was checking out her body I mentioned the fact of how her nipples reacted. This time when she blushed it was not only her face that changed color, but her neck and shoulders also. She grabbed the tape and almost ran out of the room.

I inserted her measurements into the website's form and ordered three dresses. Eventually she came down the stairs and headed for the kitchen. Several minutes elapsed before I went to join her and as I entered, she was standing at the work surface with her back to me.

"I think we need to order you some new lingerie."

When she replied her voice sounded a little croaky. "Do you want to measure me for them as well, haven't you embarrassed me enough this afternoon?"

Suddenly I realized she was crying, moving in close and placing my arms around her trying to console her by nuzzling her neck, telling her how important she was to me and that I loved her dearly. "Sweetheart I want you to look and feel beautiful, I want every man in the restaurant to envy me, it's not only dresses and lingerie you need it's everything, skirts, blouses, sweaters and shoes. In fact you need new shoes to match your dresses, and you need to book a hair appointment for that Saturday we go out. You need a complete new wardrobe and I'm going to buy it for you, your clothes are old and unfashionable."

By the time I had finished my little speech, just like the actors on the screen I had managed to set myself off crying. Sobbing my heart out as I apologized to her. "I'm so sorry, so sorry that I upset you, can you forgive me, I'm so sorry please forgive me, would you rather I moved away, shall I pack my things?"

Mother was horrified at the thought of me moving out, she turned and pulled me close to her, I felt her breasts pressing into me, my leg sandwiched between hers and my cock pressing into her groin. I could have remained like that all day. She apologized for upsetting me. When I looked up at her, several tears were still rolling down my face; she kissed me on both eyes then briefly on the lips.

"Darling I'm so sorry that I upset you I will wear whatever you say, whatever you buy, whatever you want me to wear."

All I needed now was the cup size of her bra. I could of course look in the laundry basket but I preferred to hear it straight from her, somehow my mother telling me her bra size seemed more erotic.

"Mom, if we are going to buy you lingerie can you tell me your bra size?"

Mother hesitated inclining her head to look me in the eyes, she must have been wondering what I was up to. I gave a little sob then a sniff to eke out her sympathy to ensure she regretted her condemnation of me and it worked. Initially. I thought she was talking to herself.

"You know the size you have already measured me."

"But I don't know your cup size or how to measure it."

I thought she was talking to herself. "Do you really need to know, I suppose you do? 36D is the size you need to order."

I ordered three sets of lingerie, red, white and black to color coordinate them with her dresses, and six pair of sheer ultra-sheen stockings. During the week the dresses, lingerie and stockings arrived. Mother never spoke of the items in fact she didn't seem at all excited about them, more nervous if anything, which after all those years wearing a dreary wardrobe I suppose was understandable.

Saturday morning, the week before our date we planned to go shopping to buy her new shoes, because it's risky buying shoes on the internet at this late stage. If there's was a problem there wouldn't be time to return them and get another pair. I arranged to drive two hours to the town where the restaurant was located on the pretext of showing her where we would be spending the evening. Although my mother's name is Jennifer my father always called her Jen, and since I was taking her out to what I considered to be a dinner date, I wanted her to allow me to call her Jen.

"Mom, since next week in the restaurant we will look more like a couple dining and dancing than mother and son, I think it would look better if I called you by your first name, in actual fact I think I will call you Jen. Also as we are going shopping tomorrow for shoes perhaps I should start calling you Jen straight away giving me time to get used to using your first name."

"Darling if you are going to call me by my first name then please call me either Jennifer or Jenny, I always disliked being called Jen and your father knew it but it didn't make any difference."

"Okay sweetheart, Jennifer or Jenny it is."

When mother came down the stairs that morning in preparation to go shopping, she looked very dowdy in an old long maxi skirt and flat shoes. I couldn't expect her to wear one of her new dresses but her old clothes made me shudder. The first thing I needed to do when we get to the mall was to buy her a new day dress and shoes to change into. Continual brow beating and failing to provide sufficient funds, allowed my father to keep her looking drab and dowdy, making her look unattractively dull, but that was about to change. Driving to the mall, although I never said anything, it was the first time I noticed that my mother was not wearing her wedding band or engagement ring. Slightly embarrassed with her dress code my first act when we arrived at the mall was look for an establishment which sold dresses, to get her looking a bit decent. She gave me a strange look as I took her hand while wandering around the first floor.

"We're practicing to be a couple, are you okay with that?"

She just smiled and allowed me to continue to hold her hand. There was nothing of any consequence on the first floor so we rode the elevator to the second floor. There opposite, as we stepped out of the elevator was an elegant high class couture establishment displaying some expensive dresses in its window. I almost had to drag her into the shop, where we were approached by a mature sales assistant who asked if she could be of help.

"Yes, I would like a dress for my" I hesitated wondering what to call her, I couldn't very well say mother, "For the lady."

The sales assistant gave us a strange look then beckoned with her finger for a young sales girl to come over. "Would you please serve these people," then turned her back and walked away.

The young sales assistant asked if we could give her some idea of the style of dress we were looking for. I told her that we were hoping for a dress that would be suitable to wear during the day, to visit such establishments as theirs and have lunch out. Off she went and returned several minutes later, holding up a dress of a course material and unfashionable, similar in design to what mother was currently wearing.

"Haven't you got something that's a little more exclusive, impressive, a nicer material?"

"We have sir but they are very expensive."

"Never mind the expense, let's have a look at them."

The next dress she brought out was better but still not good enough, so that went back and she returned bringing one that I instantly liked. According to her it had short sleeves a fully pleated skirt a boat neckline in a pale green jersey silk mix. I asked Jennifer to try it on, so off to the changing room she went. The transformation was amazing, like a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis, it fitted perfectly with the hem just about level with the bottom of her knee.

"Sweetheart, do you like it?" She nodded; I think she was a little choked when she saw herself in the full length mirror. I turned to the assistant, "We'll take it; do you have any more similar to that one?"

"Sir that designer dress is $1200."

"That's fine do you have any more?"

It was about this time that the mature sales assistant became interested in our purchases and came over attempting to relieve the young girl of the sale. I ask the young girl to wait and the mature woman sales assistant to get the manager. I complained to the manager about the dismissive attitude of his mature sales person towards us and her attempt to edge his young assistant out of what I assumed would be a considerable commission. It was obvious the young girl was embarrassed, an embarrassment which soon disappeared when I demanded her services regardless which department we purchased from.

"Have you any more dresses similar to the one we like, but in different colors?"

"Yes sir, we have several more from the same designer."

We ended up buying three dresses, all similar in design with only the neckline varying and of course the colors. Our visit to the shoe department was interesting because mother had never really worn a very high stiletto heel, wobbling on them at first especially the gold & silver high heeled sling back ankle strap sandals. There was a sharp contrast in our treatment when we exited the shop than when we entered; the staff opened the doors, calling Jennifer madam. She was of course dressed a little differently than when we entered, wearing a navy shirtwaist dress with a pleated skirt and white leather high stiletto heeled shoes. By the time we left the establishment she was walking on those four inch heels as if she'd worn them all her life. I wouldn't like to say how much we spent in the shop, but it was a few thousand, and worth every cent.

As we headed back to the car, she began to chastise me with regard to the amount of money I spent on her, scolding me for being frivolous. I told her the money didn't matter, but, just like a woman, it is difficult to shift any idea once it gets set in their head. In the end I couldn't stand it any longer and turned towards her and asked if she would prefer to return all the items. She hesitated, thought about it, and then said, "I don't think that's an option." I told her it was, the shop assistant said we could return the items if we were not satisfied.Her face was a picture until I laughed and shook my head. Eventually she saw the funny side of her complaining and we continued making our way to the car, where we dumped the bags in the trunk then made our way to the restaurant. The restaurant was located down a small side street and surprisingly it was open and serving lunch, entering, it seemed quite popular with most of the tables occupied. An elderly gentleman guided us to a secluded booth at the back of the restaurant, returning several minutes later to take our order. I had a hickory burger and Jennifer had a pulled pork sandwich, we weren't really there for the food just to check the place out.

With the success of my business there was never a problem about money although my parents never knew just how wealthy I was. My father drunk a lot and may well have been an alcoholic, I couldn't tell my mother about my wealth because she was unable to keep secrets from him. At high school I became interested in the financial scene, studying and making notes of the rise and fall of the American stock exchange and New York exchange shares and the commodities market. It started off very slow at first, eventually finding a company which would accept my small investment payments, although being underage it was necessary to invest using my father's name. At eighteen I had quite a decent portfolio and was making money. My parents could never have afforded to send me to college not that I wanted to go, so I started work. It would have seemed as if one of the bigger financial houses had been tracking my progress because out of the blue they offered me a job.

Success was almost immediate; obviously I started with dregs of the investors, but that didn't matter to me. Their portfolios, when I checked, were mostly rubbish, suggestions were made as we discussed their investments over the phone, but mainly because I was the young runt they were reluctant to heed my advice. A few of the investors allowed me to manipulate a small percentage of their investments and when they found they were making more money the word soon got around. By the age of twenty I was one of the top traders, on first name terms with the companies partners for whom I made a lot of money and of course a few highly placed associates in the stock exchanges. They would say I had the knack, born with a gift, had the Midas touch, and of course I was also doing quite well. At twenty one I began my own business, "Padgett Financial Services," taking quite a sizeable lump of my ex-employers business with me. My wealth began to accumulate and by the time my father died I was a millionaire, with my fortune increasing on a daily basis.

The Saturday of our date, mother walked down the stairs looking fantastic, beautiful, amazing, in all my years never had I seen her look so good. All my fantasies were updated immediately with her looking the way she did, wearing the clothes I had asked her to wear. The red silk dress reasonably low cut to show a bit of cleavage, the hem about two inches above the knee. Over the dress she wore a black silk evening coat. Her hair was perfect, different to how she usually wore it, mostly draped over the left hand side of her face to rest just below her shoulder, with a wave looking as though it was ready to fall across her eye giving her a sultry look.

"Jenny you look beautiful, fantastic; they can't help thinking that you're my girlfriend."

Having cleaned the car both inside and out which in itself was a rare event, I parked it in the garage, another rare event. Although I was not too concerned with keeping the car clean, putting it the garage was more to keep prying eyes and gossiping neighbors from seeing me take mother out, all dressed up on a date. We entered the garage from the house and as I helped her into the car, watched her dress ride up her thighs. Somewhat distracted, I looked down at her cleavage, exposed by the low cut of her dress. Standing over her, gazing at the curvature of her breasts, down to the point where it slipped below a slither of red lace. My excitement was obvious, my trousers bulging with a semi-erection, which had almost returned to normal, by the time it took me to walk around the car and get behind the wheel. The garage door could be opened and closed automatically with a remote control; that way when we backed out if anybody was looking they wouldn't see much, if anything.

Arriving at the restaurant we were again greeted by the elderly gentleman, who turned out to be the owner, and was shown to the same secluded table we occupied the week before. I could see the lust in the men's eyes as mother drifted passed their tables. The restaurant's evening ambience being far more romantic than lunchtimes, subdued lighting reflected by the ceiling from sources concealed by coving just below ceiling. We placed our order which included a bottle of champagne which arrived almost immediately. The waiter opened the bottle, poured a small measure into my glass from which I took a sip; then offered the glass to mother for her to try. We both thought it quite nice resulting in the waiter half filling both glasses before returning the bottle to the ice bucket. Neither mother nor I drink very much, her probably less than me, so I was hoping it would relax her hopefully lowering a few fences.

We had finished our meal and had been talking and sipping champagne by the time the band had taken their place on the small stage. As the band began to play I asked my mother if she would like to dance. For the first couple of dances our bodies were a respectful distance apart, but as the evening progressed and the dance floor began to fill, the distance between us faded. With the champagne taking effect, mother leaned against me resting the side of her face on my shoulder. We were just finishing off the few dregs left in the bottle as they announced the last dance. I took her hand and we made our way to the dance floor, by which time it was so crowded, we were forced to resume our cozy pose, remaining on the spot just swaying to the music. All evening while dancing my hand was mainly positioned in the small of her back so with a little courage I allowed my hand to rest on her hips. From there I slid my hand across her ass following the contours, pressing lightly in between her buttocks, then returned it to the small of her back. She lifted her head, gave me the look, but never spoke a word before resting her head back on my shoulder.

Mother slept for most of the journey, not arriving home until 1:30 in the morning, although she was awake when we arrive at the house. I intervened stopping her from going straight to bed.

"Jennifer we need to talk."

"What now, at this time, can't it wait until the morning?"

"No it's extremely important."

I guided her across to the sofa sat her down then sat beside her and took her hands in mine.

"Just before he died did dad say anything to you about me, or about us?"

"No, why?"

"Oh fuck."

"Scott please watch your language."

"Dad died three months ago and this is the last Saturday of those three months, did he say anything to you, about today?"

"No, not a word."

"Oh shit."

"Scott your language what has gotten into you?"

"Didn't he say anything about what arrangements had been made?"

"No, not a word."

"The bastard left it to me to tell you. Do you remember when, just before he died he asked to talk with me and you followed me into the room and he asked you to leave, because he wanted to speak with me alone?"

"I do."

I laughed when she said, "I do" that was funny.

"While I was in with him he forced me to make several promises. The first was to look after you for the rest of your life, he said because you couldn't cope and may do something silly. He said he appreciated that as a young man I had needs and could satisfy those needs by taking you as my wife and made me promise that we live secretly as husband and wife. According to him he has bequeathed you to me and from today I am your lord and master, his words not mine. If you refuse to become my wife he has instructed me to spank you until you do agree. Now I have prepared everything for our wedding tonight even down to the promises we make to each other."

She just sat there and looked at me, stunned.

"You can't be serious, I have no intention of becoming your wife, first of all it's against the law secondly I don't love you that way, and I certainly wouldn't sleep with you and let you touch me like a husband."

"Jennifer one way or another we are getting married tonight. I certainly don't want to spank you or hurt you. There was one trick he taught me which he said would make you do anything I wanted, that was to grab you by the hair. Now I would much prefer you to come to me willingly, we could have a great life together. The only other alternative if you refuse, is for me to leave and go my own way."

"Well I suggest you leave, because I will not marry you. Now I'm going to bed, you do what you like."

I gave her a minute or so to get upstairs and made sure she went into her bedroom, then followed her up. I walked into her bedroom and over to her, standing only inches away.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Claiming my wife, if it means you get a spanking, you'll get a spanking."

"You wouldn't dare."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth, I grabbed her arm, spun her around, sat on the bed and pulled her across my lap all in one movement. She was screaming at me, with flaying arms and kicking out, until I grabbed her around the waist and legs holding her down tight until she became exhausted and eventually stopped struggling. I asked her if she would now come to the marriage bed willingly, she vehemently replied she wouldn't. Grabbing her hair and twisting it around my hand I pulled her dress up above her waist and her panties down around her knees, preventing her from kicking out. I asked her for the last time if she would come to the marriage bed willingly. Again she refused, begging me to let her go saying she wouldn't tell anybody what I had done.

Her rounded bare ass was beautiful, silky smooth and sensuous, just as it looked and felt incased in that tight fitting sexy dress. I gave her one last chance to change her mind and agree to marry me, but she refused. A delayed scream indicated she was unprepared for the first painful slap, which rippled across her buttocks. After a further five slaps, which was accompanied with grabbing her hair, she was sobbing profusely. It was after the seventh and possibly the hardest slap, she finally agreed to marry me. I hadn't spoken a word to her during our confrontation but it was now down to me to find out what she would agree to.

"Are you prepared to marry me tonight and accept me as your husband?"

Still sobbing she murmured yes.

"As your husband, do you agree that I'm entitled to conjugal rites and that you will participate in our love making, freely?"

She agreed.

"Finally do you agree to look upon me as your lord and master and comply with my wishes as your deceased husband demanded?"

"I agree."

"No that's not right, it's I agree darling."

"I agree darling."

"Good, now I'll bring in what I've prepared for the wedding."

By that time it was well past 2:00 in the morning but while she was accepting the situation I dare not delay the wedding or our first night together, whatever that may bring. I collected a few items from my room and returned to mother's bedroom. She was sitting on the bed head bowed having straightened out her clothing. She looked at me as I entered, red eyed and the look of disgust on her face, which said I thought I knew you, but I don't.

"You wear only what is in this box which is a full length white satin nightgown but it can be mistaken for a wedding dress; with it is a veil that will cover your face which I will lift. You can wear your silver sling back sandals and carry the bouquet which is in the bathroom. On this card are the modified wedding ceremony promises which we perform reading from the card. You read the part against your name; I go first by reading my part, then you read your part and so on. Your wedding band and engagement ring you can leave handy on the dressing table. You have a half hour to get ready to make yourself beautiful as you were earlier, I don't want to see any red eyes. When you're ready, go into the bathroom knock on my door as you pass. When I am ready I will knock on the bathroom door on my way to the bedroom, then you can do a slow walk into the bedroom and stand next to me. Then I will begin the service."

I went to my bedroom got my best suit ready with a white rose in the button hole, put on a clean shirt, a tie and my best brogues. Strangely I began to feel nervous and when Jennifer tapped on my bedroom door almost on the half hour the nerves really kicked in. I left my bedroom making my way to, although I never suggested it to Jennifer, our bedroom, knocking on the bathroom door as I passed. A minute later she appeared at door looking so beautiful, in her wedding gown which intensified her already amazing body, creating the most incredible fantasy scene. She slowly advance towards me and stood at my side. Jennifer's body was trembling as I lifted the veil over her head and placed it behind her, signs of strain showed on her face, I smiled attempting to put her at ease.

Reading from the card.

Scott - "Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?"

Jennifer - "My deceased husband bequeathed me to this man."

Scott - "I, Scott take thee Jennifer, to be my wife. To have and

to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer,

and I promised to love you forevermore."

Scott - Place wedding band and engagement ring on Jennifer's finger.

Jennifer - "I, Jennifer take thee Scott, to be my wedded husband.

To have and to hold, in sickness and in health,

for richer or for poorer, and I promised to love you forevermore."

Jennifer - Placed her husband's wedding band on Scott's finger.

Scott - "Forasmuch as Scott."

Jennifer - "And Jennifer."

Scott - "Have consented together in wedlock, and have given and pledged their

love for each other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving

of a ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be man."

Jennifer - "And wife together. You may kiss the bride."

Taking Jennifer in my arms I gave her a prolonged kiss. I must admit at being a little concerned when she never responded; perhaps the whole wedding thing was so sudden she hadn't had time to reflect on the situation.

"Sweetheart I'm going back to my bedroom to change into my pajamas, you hop into bed, I'll be just a couple of minutes."

The look she gave me was devastating; I'd never seen that look on her face before it was a mixture of disgust and contempt. It didn't matter because she was mine, she belonged to me, like it or not she promised to obey me. I was not my father; if Jennifer would accept me totally as her husband, we could have a great life together.

With the bedside light on, and making no attempt to acknowledge my return to the bedroom, Jennifer was in bed, lying on her back staring up at the ceiling. I moved in beside her slipped my arms around her waist leant over and kissed her on the lips. There was no response except pressing her lips firmly together, it was if I was kissing one of those rubber blowup dolls sold in the sex shops. However, I was not going to be dissuaded from following through with my plan; if she wanted to be frigid it wouldn't stop me from enjoying her body and making love to her. Perhaps in time she will become responsive, but how long that would take was anybody's guess.

Very gently I kissed her again and told her I loved her and understood her reaction to the situation. Lying, when I said my father should have told her of his plans for her to become my wife, so that I could care for her the rest of her life. I kissed her again, and asked if she had noticed any difference in my approach towards her over the past three months, encouraging her to take far more responsibility and buying new clothes. I kissed her again, and asked if she never suspected that my intentions were directed at taking my father's place. Each additional kiss was accompanied with some sort of statement, albeit a lie. For example, I blamed my father for not informing her for what he intended, if he had she would have had three months to accept the situation and prepare for this day. All the time I had been kissing and talking to her, Jennifer had not said a word but just kept staring at the ceiling.

Slipping my hand inside her nightgown I cupped and fondled her breast, lightly squeezing while attempting to introduce French kissing to enhance our sexual pleasures, well mine at least. Jennifer couldn't stop me kissing her, but refused to allow our tongues to meet. Taking her nipple, I spoke soft words of love as I rolled it between my thumb and finger, causing it to both harden and enlarge surprisingly quickly. After a while, satisfied that both breasts had been fondled sufficiently I allowed my hand to drift down over her nightgown, following the contours of her body. Even through her lips I felt her body react, going rigid as I began to ease her nightgown up, causing her to tremble as it was raised past her knees. Stopping about mid-thigh I eased my hand between her legs and found it difficult to proceed further because Jennifer had clamped her legs together preventing my progress. Tenderly, while slipping out of my pajamas, I reminded her of our promises made less than an hour ago, how she agreed to my conjugal rites and promised to obey.

Relaxing the pressure between her legs I continued to ease my hand higher until I reach my goal. Jennifer recoiled as I traced my finger along the entrance of her pussy. While two fingers slipped easily inside her and my thumb massaging her clitoris I was astounded by the amount of fluid her body excreted, saturating the bed and her nightgown. Pulling her nightgown up all the way and positioning myself on top of her I gently slipped inside and slowly eased back and forth. While having been so intent on my own pleasures, Jennifer had been quietly sobbing at the thought of her son defiling her this way. My idea was, if I could give her a great deal of pleasure by getting her to orgasm, then she would be more likely to accept me. Unfortunately that didn't happen, my excitement must have been intense, because within seconds of penetrating her body, she must have felt me exploded within her. Remaining on top, applying kisses for several more minutes to this unresponsive woman, before eventually rolling off. Kissing her goodnight and turning off the light, still sobbing she turned away, her back towards me.

We both slept late Sunday morning although I'm not sure who was awake first. Jennifer seemed to be asleep her back still towards me. Still naked from the night before I moved in close; spooning matching the contour of her body with my own. Slipping my arm around her waist and my hand inside her nightgown, to cup her breast, she moved I assumed trying to put space between us. Holding her tight, whispered in her ear.

"I'm so sorry about last night."

"Are going to rape me again?"

"Rape you, is that what you think that I raped you. I have no idea what your head was telling you, but believe me your body was not saying rape, it was saying take me, your body wanted me, as much as I wanted you, and you know that. We are two consenting adults and providing we keep this our little secret by not telling anyone, we're safe. However if you want to send me to prison, all you have to do is inform the police that I raped you. I on the other hand would tell them you seduced me and invited me to your bed then turned on me crying rape. You would be taken to hospital for an examination and they could tell you weren't raped. You would be famous for ever with reporters camped on your doorstep; I can see the headlines now 'Mother seduces son then cries rape.' The reason I am apologizing is because of my premature ejaculation, you got me so excited that I couldn't control myself and therefore failed to satisfy your needs."Pulling Jennifer towards me I turned her so that she would be lying on her back then began to administer light kisses. Again she never responded to my advances and continued to stare at the ceiling, but I did notice the she never pressed her lips together. At least I was kissing her full succulent lips, which I thought was some progress. Slipping the nightgown off her shoulders, pulling it down to release her arms from its constraints, allowed me to admire her uncovered breasts. They were beautiful, full and firm, her nipples already reacting to the attention they were receiving. I leaned over and kissed both nipples several times, going back and forth between the two before drawing one into my mouth, sucking it for a minute or so before transferring to the other. In between kissing her lips, kissing her breasts and sucking her nipples I spoke soft words of love, telling her how wonderful she was and how beautiful her body was and how much I adored her.

Having experienced the previous night's love making, Jennifer was prepared when I began to pull her nightgown up. Her body still reacted to my touch but it wasn't as intense as the night before. Her naturally lubricated body willingly accepted my advances without the slightest hint of forced penetration. This time there was no crying just the silent treatment which was understandable because once again I was unable to control my emotions with my over excitement leaving her frustrated. Finally she asked me if I'd sufficiently satisfied myself with her and was she at liberty to shower and dress.

It was obvious that Jennifer was extremely cross and disgusted with me and I was beginning to wonder, as I lie in bed, whether I had overstepped the mark. Was it such a good idea even though Jennifer accepted our situation and never fought back, but showed her disgust by remaining frigid? I heard her going down the stairs so I assumed she had finished in the shower, giving me the opportunity to have mine. Having showered and dressed I headed downstairs to who knows what.

"Scott." When spoken to in that tone of voice I know I'm in trouble. "What would you like for breakfast?"

"Anything you're cooking sweetheart."

She was standing at the sink with her back to me. I walked up behind her put my arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck as I had done numerous times before, only this time she reacted differently. She didn't make a comment like she used to, instead her body just stiffened. Things were not working out quite the way I hoped, she must hate me, but I can't back down now. The atmosphere between us was very tense so to relieve the tension I decided to wander into my office, however, before walking out of the kitchen I asked her to call me when breakfast was ready.

Breakfast was a silent affair but I noticed she was still wearing her wedding band and engagement ring. Dressed in a new blouse and skirt, with her hair still swept over to one side she looked an absolute picture. After breakfast I asked her if I could help with anything she said no, which allowed me to return to my office to catch up on some outstanding work. Mid-afternoon after having had lunch in my office I wandered out to find Jennifer sitting in one of the armchairs reading. Standing in front of her with my hand held out towards her said, "I would like you to lie with me on the sofa."

Jennifer looked up, took my hand and we headed towards the sofa. She laid down first with her back against the back of the sofa, followed by me lying on the outside of her. Placing my arms around her waist I pulled her close and kissed her on the lips. It was not as if she actually kissed me back but I definitely felt her lips pucker up. The more I kissed her, the more responsive she seemed to become and even accepted my French kiss, after a fashion. However, she still showed reluctance, by turning her head away from me when I unbuttoned her blouse and slipped my hand inside her bra. Obviously the situation didn't improve when she allowed me to put my hand up her skirt in an attempt to arouse her before finally making love.

That Sunday night we prepared for bed separately. Jennifer was already in bed wearing her satin nightgown and me in my pajama bottoms as I slipped in beside her and took her in my arms. She still failed to respond to my kisses and remained unimpressed when I slipped my hand inside her nightgown and began to squeeze her breasts and rub her nipples. There was no immediate reaction when I whispered that I was about to pull her nightgown up and stick my fingers in her cunt and work her until she orgasms, then fuck her after.

It was obvious she didn't like the way I spoke to her, using what she considered obscene words, which only seemed to increase her resolve not to accept me. At that point I was fully aroused and past caring what she thought as long as her body was there for my pleasure. Between prolonged kisses I slipping the nightgown from her shoulders and pulled the top down to expose her breasts allowing me to suckle. Her body went rigid as she felt my hand sliding up beneath her nightgown, and started to shake as my fingers explored her pussy. With my fingers pleasuring her and my thumb stroking and circling her clitoris, it took a while but eventually I felt her starting to respond to my attention.

It started with Jennifer's pelvis making involuntary movements, which were barely detectable, pushing against my fingers as they penetrated deep into her body. Gradually these movements became more forceful accompanied by a few moans, eventually peaking with my fingers flashing in and out while whispering. "There's a good girl cum for daddy, be daddy's little girl." It was almost as if she started having a convulsion screaming at me to fuck her using the words she detests. Positioning myself on top of her she gave me little or no time to settle before her arms and legs wrapped around me, pulling me tight against her while forcing her lips against mine. For her, the whole thing was more or less over before it began when she experienced an intense orgasm, but she continued to hold me and kiss me allowing me to eventually satisfy myself. We lay there, me on my back with my arm around her, Jennifer with her head resting on my chest and her arm around my waist. We had been cuddling that way for quite a while nothing had been said since making love, suddenly Jennifer spoke.

"Scott do you really love me as a husband loves his wife, or is it just lust and you used the marriage thing as a trick to sleep with me and use my body?"

"Jenny I love you, or should say that I'm in love with you, and want you more than anything."

"Scott, tell me you love me, tell me I'm beautiful and desirable, tell me you will never leave me."

"Sweetheart, I am so in love with you; my love for you is incalculable, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, your beauty surpasses every other woman's. I know you love me because both times we made love there was never any question of rape, your body accepted me without question. However, my love for you is so intense, causing me to become so excited, if your body had not been prepared to accept me willingly, I would have lost control. It would have ended with me raping you, willing to accept any and all the consequences of my action. I will never leave you."

"Oh darling that's the most beautiful thing anybody has ever said, no one has ever told me they love me, I belong to you and as your wife, do anything you ask."

"But sweetheart I've often told you how much I love you and how beautiful you are."

"Scott, a week ago you was my son, it didn't really count, not like it does now. Now you are my husband."

With Jennifer locked in my arms, cooperating and responding to my kisses there are no words to describe my feelings for her. My hands roamed over her nightgown absorbing the silky feelings as it followed the contours of her body. She pushed back on my fingers as they glided between her buttocks, relaxing as they continued upwards tracking along her spine. All the time our lips were molded together, her hand cupping the back of my head pulling me closer. Her moans vibrating into my mouth as my hand slipped beneath her gown to fondle her breasts, preparing her nipples to be suckled again. As I slipped down the bed, Jennifer positioned her breast so that my mouth could capture her nipple.

"That's it baby, mommy's knows you're hungry for her and she loves feeding you."

How long I concentrated on her breasts was difficult to say having lost all track of time, it was almost as if I had been hypnotized. Retrieving my senses, I slipped off my pajama bottoms and began to pull her nightgown up, only this time it was pulled up above her waist. This time there were no complaints she seemed to enjoy my fumbling and voyages of discovery. Jennifer reacted positively as my fingers slipped in and out of her, attempting to push herself further onto them on their inward journey. Right from the start our kissing was continuous and passionate, she seemed to be enjoying our physical relationship far more than I expected. She was a typical cougar and providing it was restricted to our relationship I couldn't have been more pleased. Eventually we arranged ourselves in the missionary position, and this time spent a little longer kissing and making love. This time there was no premature ejaculation, although I have lasted longer, however, in my opinion I still failed to satisfy Jennifer, being unable to bring her to an orgasm. She said my apology wasn't necessary because it was something that rarely happened.

Monday morning while stretching in bed; feeling content with myself and the world, noticed that Jennifer was awake and watching me. I leaned over to kiss her passionately on the lips and each unseen nipple; as they formed sizeable mounds in her nightgown.

"You okay sweetheart?"

She nodded and rolled over on top of me pinning me down, her breasts pressing into my chest and her crotch squashing my morning erection. I wrapped my arms around her, my hands caressing and squeezing her ass. She began to kiss me and asked if there was anything she could do for me, I told her yes, I would like her to give me a blow job. The kissing stopped immediately; obviously my request was unexpected, taking her by surprise. "You want me to perform oral sex and cum in my mouth?" I told her that's exactly what I wanted. She said she would consider it providing I was prepared to do it to her.

With Jennifer going about her daily chores and me in my office, we didn't see much of each other during the day. A couple of times in the morning she bought me coffee and lunch at midday. A new family tradition was about to be launched when in the afternoon Jennifer walked in carrying a tray on which were two cups of tea and a plate of chocolate cookies, how she loved her chocolate. She placed the tray on my desk after pushing aside some of my more important documents, then eased herself onto my lap. She placed her arms around me and we kissed. Who was I to stop her, never having seen her this affectionate. We kissed and cuddled for several minutes before she returned to the afternoon tea ceremony, sharing the cookies and drinking tea from bone china cups.

Until that night Jennifer and I had always prepared for bed separately; neither seeing the other undress. I always had the impression that my mother was not only a submissive but shy with it, but now as my wife that practice should end. We would each go to our bedroom get change then I would join my wife who would already be lying in bed. This time I went to my bedroom, collected my pajamas and joined Jennifer in our bedroom.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Coming to bed, as from this morning we have no secrets from each other, our life together must progress otherwise our relationship will not last. We have to become more adventurous, so I suggest you get undressed and wait while I undress."

"You want me to stand here naked?"

"Yes that was my intention."

"Well in that case you can go first."

I undressed and finally stood naked before her.

"Now it's your turn to let me see you?"

Jennifer began to remove her clothes, her blouse first then her skirt, she was a bit more hesitant when it came to removing her bra and even more so when she slipped her panties down her legs. The more clothes she removed the harder my erection became. She stood before me totally naked slightly backing away as I moved towards her. Taking her hand I placed it around my manhood and made sure that it would remain in that position while I placed a hand between her legs cupping her body. She was so wet, it encouraged me to slip a finger inside her. Wrapping an arm around her waist pulling her close crushing her breasts against my chest with every intention to kiss her. She responded immediately pressing her lips against mine with some enthusiasm her tongue searching for mine, pulling me tighter with her arm placed around my neck. Breaking our kiss I questioned why she would want to hide such a beautiful body from me.

"Darling all this is new to me please be patient, you must know by now that I belong to you, and I do love you."

"I will be patient, but please come to bed as you are I want you like this, naked, holding you in my arms, our bodies pressed together."

In bed we made out, after a while drifted down to her breasts concentrating more on her nipples, later continuing my kisses as I journeyed down her body. Once passed her naval Jennifer stopped me from going down further. Eventually we made love to end a very satisfactory evening. It was becoming more obvious that Jennifer was sexually inhibited and I wasn't sure whether she had always been this way or whether it had been a result of my father's influence. I wasn't quite sure how to tackle the problem until stumbling across a TV program to be shown called, "Your Partner and You." Apparently a sex therapist would be talking about the relationship between couples, and according to the article this series of programs were very explicit, down to earth and well worth watching. I spoke to Jennifer about it, showed her the article and suggested we watched it together; she seemed hesitant but eventually agreed.

We pulled the sofa up in front of the TV, I sat down and Jennifer sat next to me tucking her legs under her. With my arm around her shoulder she leaned and snuggled into me and waited for the program to start. First the therapist introduced herself, doctor whatever, I didn't catch her name, but what she said next made a lot of sense. According to her it would seem that the biggest problem related to sexual issues, caused my couples not talking to each other on the subject, expressing their likes and dislikes in the bedroom. She went on to say.

"People are frightened of rejection and embarrassed to discuss the one subject that brought them together and could keep them together for the rest of their lives. The thought of being rejected is a major issue. For example if one partner would like to perform or receive oral sex or both but never mentions it, that partner may become frustrated blaming the other for not being adventurous. In the meantime the other partner innocently carries on with their normal sex routine without the slightest idea of the other partner's dilemma. It maybe that the second partner would like to receive oral sex but not perform it, or perhaps neither give or receive it, but would be prepared to compromise by going down a slightly different route. If you don't ask you will never know and an important part of the relationship may be lost."

Jennifer raised her head and looked at me, I couldn't be sure what she was thinking but I bet it was something to do with her stopping me as I kissed my way down her body. The program continued showing couples demonstrating numerous positions for love making. Jennifer felt embarrassed for them.

"How can they do that in front of a camera with millions of people watching?"

"They're exhibitionists, that's how they get their kicks, bit extreme I think."

When the program finished I asked Jennifer for her thoughts, did she think that she could be open about the subject, could she talk freely about her feelings and her needs. She said she didn't know, so I asked her outright.

"Would you consider receiving and performing oral sex with me?"

It was a while before she answered. I think there was some shock involved and definitely embarrassment.

"I think it would depend on circumstances and my sexual state at the time. I wouldn't rule it out."

The following week the program began with mapping out the body's erogenous zones and how to stimulate them, then moving on to explain the techniques of oral sex with demonstrations. That night I practiced stimulating Jenny's erogenous zones, some worked out just fine, but not all were successful; she didn't like my tongue in her ear.

The third week was dedicated to bondage and provided demonstrations of being tied up on a bed, right through to the other end of the scale being strapped down on purpose built tables and being flogged. There were pictures of men being kept in cages. The final scene consisted of fetishism with some naked woman being strapped into a harness with bit and bridle and prancing around the garden, being driven like a horse. Somewhere within the program was something on spanking when Jennifer looked at me I just smiled. After the program finished we stretched out and lay on the sofa together, cuddling and kissing. I asked her if she would like to be tied to the bed, her reply.

"I suppose it depends on what you intend to do once I was tied up."

"Well that's a part of the excitement not knowing what to expect."

Jennifer thought about it then said. "In the program they talked about spanking and suggested that the person doing the spanking and the person receiving it, both received enjoyment from it. Did you enjoy spanking me that time?"

"Looking back I suppose I did."

She looked at me in a peculiar fashion and just for a second it crossed my mind that she may well have enjoyed it also. I decided to press the point.

"Since you brought the subject up did you enjoy the spanking?"

"You hurt me and made me cry. I'm not saying I enjoyed it, but accepted it for what it was."

"You've avoided answering my question, I think you enjoyed it. Did my father ever spank you?"

"Yes he did a number of times."

"Did you enjoy it?'

"No I didn't, because he did it as a punishment, whereas you did it out of love."

"Tonight I'm going to take a leaf out of that program and tie you to the bed. Now what can I use as restraints, have you any old stockings? They're soft and easily tied."

Much to my surprise Jennifer never said a word; I kissed her and began to unbutton her blouse suggesting that she go upstairs, find four old stockings and wait for me in the bedroom so that I may finish undressing her. She left without saying a word being either angry with me or submissive. I was about to find out upon arriving in the bedroom.

Jennifer was standing at the foot of the bed fully dressed. Except for the bottom button of her blouse which was still undone, just as I had left her. Six new looking stockings were neatly spread out across the bed. She was trembling as I undid the last button and removed her blouse, fidgeting as I unzipped her skirt and slowly lowered it down her legs. Collecting a single stocking I used it as a blindfold. Removing her bra but ignoring her panties I guided her around to the side of the bed sat her down and eased her down onto her back. Swinging her legs onto the bed encouraging her to move to the middle. Jennifer's breathing was erratic as I lifted her first arm above her head then loosely tied a stocking around her wrist then secured it to the headboard. Then secured her second arm by the same method rendering her powerless. Since entering the bedroom neither of us had said a word. Kneeling on the bed straddling her feet, she gasped as I pulled her panties down to remove them. With her arms spread eagled, I repeated the procedure on her legs, spreading them widely before securing them to the foot of the bed.Setting up my video camera on its tripod focusing it to encompass the whole bed, finally rotating the viewing screen so the action could be seen from the bed. Down stairs I had prepared a bowl of ice cubes, from the dressing table I picked up a soft brush, about as big as a hair brush but extremely soft, having never seen it used had no idea of its purpose. With everything set up and ready, I undressed then turned the camera on. During all my preparations Jennifer remain silent and still but I could tell she was nervous by her breathing. She must have felt me climb on the bed, and certainly did as I took my place beside her. Bending over her I whispered asking if the program had an effect on her. She nodded when I asked if watching the couples perform turned her on, and suggested perhaps she would like to see herself on the TV. Continuing my questioning asked, "apart from my father and me, have you slept with anyone else?" She said she hadn't. "Apart from me and my father has anyone fondled your tits?" Her reply took me back a little.

"One year, I was nineteen at the time, we had all the family over for Christmas dinner. At one point I happened to be up in my bedroom sorting out a few presents, when my twenty year old cousin walked in shut and locked the door. He pushed me back on the bed, pulled my sweater up, dragged my breasts out of my bra and began to squeeze and suck them. Meanwhile his hand found its way up my skirt and into my panties and put his fingers inside me."

"Did you enjoy his attention?"

"No I didn't I hated him. However several years later I began to fantasize about it happening, but with men that I liked. Your father was one of them and because he was so dominant I could see him treating me that way, so I married him, but it never happened, in fact nothing much happened at all."

From the way she spoke she was obviously ready for me to implement my plan.

Reaching for the soft brush I introduced it to the more sensitive parts of her body brushing across her nipples down her body and thighs while allowing my lips and tongue to concentrate on her mouth. Jennifer must have found these simple acts excitable because her body became more animated at the point of pleasure. Taking an ice cube I rubbed it on the very tip of her nipple, she squirmed then moaned ceasing only when I brushed my tongue across the second nipple's tip.

Using an ice cube I rubbed it over her breast circling her large nipple, then down into her cleavage up the other side to repeat the process on her second breast and nipple. Time and time again I traveled from one breast to the other, until the ice cube had almost melted. Picking up a second ice cube I accidentally dropped it deep into her cleavage. Having enjoyed all the fumbling around to retrieve it, I began to slowly to slide it down her body until it rested between her legs. Jennifer whimpered as I eased the cube onto her clitoris before running it up and down the lips of her pussy, squirming and whimpering as the ice cube took effect. It was time to administer some pleasure. Rolling off the bed to positioned myself at its foot, slithered like a snake between her legs, stopping with my mouth just inches from my target. Jennifer jumped as my tongue lapped across her clitoris circling the little nub, eventually penetrating the most sacred of places. She moaned softly at first, becoming more vocal as I continued to administer the torturous pleasure until she demanded my attention elsewhere. After ignoring her numerous requests she became abusive, words like I have never heard her speak rolled from her mouth.

"Scott come on make love to me, I want you now, please come on. Scott make love to me now."

I could tell she was getting annoyed which only made me delay things a little longer. The pitch of her voice began to rise and the volume increased. Jennifer started screaming at me.

"Scott you get up here and make love to me."

She felt me slowly crawling over her and although I was within reach she was prevented by the constraints tried around her wrists from grabbing me. She attempted to influence my crawl rate until a suitable position was achieved. Delaying the penetration of her body only increased her frustration insomuch she forced her body up attempting to push herself onto me trying to force me inside her. Even when I entered her and began to slowly ease myself in and out, it was driving her mad.

"Faster Scott, faster...Come on Scott do it faster and harder...Please Scott do it for me...Come on darling fuck me hard...Please darling, faster, harder...that's it, now harder...that's it...,oh god, oh god...You bastard, you're fucking your mother...fucking hell."

It was the first time I managed to bring Jennifer to an orgasm and it must have hit her hard because afterwards she was totally spent and took a few minutes to recover. Suddenly, turning her head away from me, she burst into tears sobbing her heart out. I tried to pacify her attempting to determine why she was so upset. Eventually she admitted losing control and being ashamed of the disgusting language she used and was devastated by the names she called me, and apologized for being such a slut.

"Sweetheart I loved what you said, in bed I want you to be a slut, my slut, and I want us to be able to talk to each other in that manner, think of it as love talk. Now I want you to tell me that you like me fucking you and playing with and sucking your tits."

I could tell by the way she looked at me she wasn't happy speaking in such a manner but I loved to hear her express herself that way. She eventually conceded, cuddling up to me and rested her head on my chest, I reasoned that she didn't have to look me in the eyes, thinking she was embarrassed when she spoke.

"Darling I love you fucking me, squeezing and sucking my tits, and the next time you tie me up I want you to tie them up as well. I loved your tongue licking and penetrating" she paused, "down there and perhaps in the near future I can suck you and you can take me from behind."

"Do you mean licking and penetrating your cunt, sucking my cock and fucking your ass?" She nodded.

From the start when I tied her to the bed, to when we finished must have been in excess of two hours. The only thing I did before releasing Jennifer's blindfold and constraints was to disassemble and return my camera and tripod to the cupboard in my old bedroom. Back in the bedroom I straddled Jennifer's body, sitting close to her breasts so they rested on my upper thighs. She was aware that my lust during our love making had not been satisfied, so when I released the blindfold she was not surprised to see my erection had not subsided. After untying her hands she began to stroke my shaft gripping and continually working me up and down. Never before had a woman so expertly tossed me off, slowly inducing feelings of euphoria, not stopping or slowing at the point of climax. My seed went everywhere, over her hands, her arms, her neck, her face, even in her hair we both ended up in the shower together before retiring to bed in the early hours of the morning.

It took me a couple of days to copy and edit the camera's small disc onto a standard DVD disc. I waited until Saturday evening when I told Jennifer there was a special on the program 'Your Partner and You' and because of its content was being broadcast later. We were already for bed as we snuggled up on the sofa in front of the TV, me wearing only my pajama bottoms and Jennifer in a short satin nightgown, extremely short. The disc was already in the recorder all I had to do was press play. The scene opened with a woman blindfolded tied to a bed. Jennifer pointed out that was exactly how she was tied up and suddenly realized it was her.

"You filmed us?"

"I did, you wanted to see yourself on television well now you can."

By the time the DVD ended we weren't even looking at the TV, for the first time Jennifer had her head in my lap performing oral sex, it was wonderful. Mind you the complement was returned later in bed.

Over the following months our repertoire increased very nicely with us both performing equally on one another, swapping roles as it deemed fit. Later in our relationship we began to act out our fantasies and even expand on them. Jennifer and her cousin scenario, turned out to be a classic. She would be in the bedroom wearing a sweater and a mini, mini skirt. I would walk into the bedroom playing the part of her cousin push her on the bed pull her sweater up yank her bra down below her tits. I would suck, squeeze and pull her nipples, stretching them to a maximum and generally inflict a little pain. All the time, while my hand was up her skirt and inside her panties; I would do whatever I thought appropriate. During our act I would forcefully kiss Jennifer on the lips to prevent her complaining, asking me to stop. Eventually I would leave her supposedly exhausted from fending me off, in a state of semi-undress and lying on the bed.

A minute later I would return as her father wanting to know why she was lying on the bed in such a disheveled state, and what was her cousin doing in her room and why she had the door shut. I would scold her for being a slut and tell her to remove her crumpled sweater and prepare for a spanking. The sweater would come off and she would lie across my lap. Unzipping and pulling her skirt up enabled me access to her panties allowing me to pull them down and remove them completely. I would also undo her bra and remove that. The standard of spanking Jennifer finally established for herself was that it should inflict sufficient pain to bring her close to tears at which point she would stop me. As I made her stand in front of me, her skirt which I had undone would slide down her legs ensuring she would stand naked before me. When she bent down attempting to pull her skirt up, I would order her to remain bent over while I removed my pants and boxers then made her kneel before me, sucking me until I shot my seed in her mouth. After I would have her lie on the bed and generally enjoy her body while she enjoyed my mouth.

On warm days Jennifer and I would lie together beneath the canopy of our double sun lounger unseen on our secluded patio. She would be wearing a skimpy red bikini which at first, through much persuasion, she reluctantly wore, resulting in many romantic interludes. I would release her spaghetti ties which held tiny triangles of fabric in place, which could never be said were discreet, and we enjoyed each other's body. Some of my favorite times were in the pool when I removed her bikini top, then duck beneath the surface to release her bikini bottom. Jennifer enjoyed my fondling of her body as if struggling with the ties, prior to kissing and rubbing our naked bodies against each other as part of our foreplay. At last our sexual performances had become synchronized as our love making achieved total satisfaction.

As we approached our first anniversary Jennifer asked if we could celebrate at the restaurant where we danced on the night of our wedding. Our life together had become wonderful, neither of us had any inhibitions to talk to the other on any subject, that television program had kick started a perfect relationship. Officially she was my mother, although I now thought of her as my wife, and never considered our relationship as incestuous. I booked the same table as we sat at on the night of our wedding, and looking forward to seeing my beautiful wife in her new dress. By this time she had her own bank account and would buy clothes that were tasteful and knew I liked. Hearing our bedroom door close, as I waited at the bottom of the stairs knowing it would be only seconds before she appeared. Jennifer was a vision, the dress was fantastic and totally met with my approval. The neckline seemed a little lower and the hemline a little higher and molded to her body a little more snugly, god she was beautiful as was her cleavage and legs.

We arrived in a private limo and were shown to our special table. Having ordered dinner and champagne, Jennifer asked for water. The champagne arrived in its ice bucket; the water arrived in its pitcher with ice. I poured out a glass of water for Jennifer and a glass of champagne for myself; we toasted our anniversary and our life together. Jennifer said that she could never have believed she could be so happy, I leaned across and kissed her. "I have something for you." Handing her a blue velvet case her hands trembled as she lifted the clasp. She gasped; tears filled her eyes when she saw the single row of pearls.

"I'm afraid they're not new but they are antique."

"Oh Scott they're magnificent."

"Let me put them on you."

Easing myself out of the booth I waited for Jennifer to swing her body around so that I could secure the pearls around her neck. When I sat back down they looked really great on her.

"Scott I have something to tell you."

"Wow that sounds ominous."

"Darling I'm pregnant."

"Oh."

"Oh, is that all you have to say. Is that an, 'oh' because you don't want a child, or is it because you think I'm too old to have a child, or because of our relationship you think we shouldn't have a child?"

"No sweetheart that, 'oh' is because I am in shock it was something that I was not expecting, I'm totally surprised and need to think about it, to get used to the idea. Can we talk about this properly tonight when we get home; it will give me a bit of thinking time to find the right questions?"

"Of course darling."

We had a wonderful meal and danced most of the evening. I had to laugh at the men watching Jennifer's ass as it swayed in time to the music as we moved around the dance floor. Mind you I watch those perfect globes all the time.

Back home we made ourselves comfortable on the sofa, but for some reason I felt nervous.

"Sweetheart, how long have you been sure that you're pregnant and do you want this child?"

"It's nearly two weeks since I tried two pregnancy test kits and they both showed positive. In the week I went to the doctors and again the test proved positive, and yes I do want this baby."

"Okay so you're pregnant and you want the child, now my first concern is for you, do you think you can carry the baby and have a successful birth. Have you spoken with the doctor on this matter?"

"I have, and this is where you may not agree with how I handled the situation. When I walked into the doctor's office his first comments were, 'wow Jennifer you look radiant, you can't be sick.' As you know our family has been with the doctor for years and he has only seen me when your father was alive, dressed somewhat dowdy. Of course when I walked in wearing one of my silk day dresses, high heels and my hair styled as you like it, he was rather taken aback. When I told him that I was pregnant and asked if I was too old to have a child he said, 'It depends on yours and the father's circumstances.' At that point I told him about us and our situation. He told me that the risk for a woman of my age is obviously greater than if I was ten years younger, but he didn't think the risk was any greater because you are the father, the risk for me that is. As for the baby he thought because of our situation and my age the risks were a little higher, but then all pregnancies are somewhat of a gamble. He told me they can monitor me and the baby and if there was a problem, we would have to decide whether or not to terminate the pregnancy. But we must be prepared to make an immediate decision, so we should get some type of agreement, between us, before the event, although it need not necessarily be cast in stone."

I sat there looking at her trying to get my head around what was happening, almost terrified something could happen to her while having this child, and it would be all my fault. Things would become awkward because friends and neighbors in the area seeing her pregnant would know there was something terribly wrong. They would condemn her, not because they would think that I was the cause of her pregnancy, but because they would think that she had been sleeping with another man or men out of wedlock. Comments had already been made on her transformation from a dowdy housewife to model status. The time had come to do something about it.

"Sweetheart, I cannot stand living here any longer, creeping around, unable to live openly as man and wife, especially now with the baby on the way. For a while I've been thinking, it's about time we moved far away from here, what do you think?"

She looked at me and smiled. "I think it's time we moved as well, so what are your thoughts about where we should settle down?"

"My first thoughts were California thinking it would be nice to purchase a reasonable size property, a small ranch with a pasture and wooded areas. Not that I intend to work the property just somewhere we can stretch our legs and raise our child and if necessary modify the living accommodation to our own requirements. I would still concentrate on my own business. What do you think?"

"Oh darling that sounds wonderful but could we afford it. I don't care where we move to, providing it is a long way from here. I've thought about moving a lot lately and the one thing I would ask is could we move straight away. We could put the house in the hands of a realtor and if necessary the furniture in store, then rent a place or even stay in a hotel in the area we are looking for a property. If the area or properties are not suitable we could move on until we find something that we like?"

"That's a good idea, we could do that, but what about you and the baby?"

"We will be just fine."

I sent off several emails to a number of Californian realtors listing our property requirements initially to rent somewhere on a temporary basis, but with the intention to purchase a reasonable size property within their area. We are now waiting for the replies to roll in.

The End


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