Love in the Jungle

All characters represented in this work are wholly fictional, and over the age of eighteen.

All characters represented in this work are wholly fictional, and over the age of eighteen.

Therewas the ruined village that LIDAR had spotted from the air, a couple hours down the river from our camp. I couldn't even bring myself to speak to my mother, and avoided both her, and the younger women I'd spent the better part of the week objectifying. The post-orgasmic shame was palpable in my heart, but Dr. Waters didn't seem to be holding a grudge. She simply continued to bark orders at the rest of us, hoping to get to our prize as quickly as possible.

I did notice that she kept a button down on her vest, and far more hairs flew away from her bun compared to the days before. It was as though my actions that morning had eroded her resolve, the severity of her character. Perhaps shame at having raised such a pervert? Or, more likely, desire to get out of the jungle before I forced the topic or did something more outlandish.

I resolved myself to refrain from any further perversion, despite the stirring of my loins. I needed to hold it together, focus on the college credit, and make the discovery of a lifetime in the process. It's not like it was going to be that hard- I just needed to avoid the eroticism of my brain.

How hard could that be?

"Sorry, run that by me again?" I couldn't believe my ears.

"That's right!" Bethany was busty, blonde, and quite aware that both facts made her a walking issue of playboy. "It's a sex pyramid!" She grinned at me in a suggestive way, waggling her eyebrows like the frat boys she probably dated. "Don't get too excited, Stevie, we're here to work." She teased.

I groaned. We were perhaps an hour into translating some of the massive blocks of stone half-submerged at the base of a structure towering some thirty feet above us, covered from base to tip in foliage.

"It's an idol to a deity of fertility and agriculture." Dr. Waters, corrected her grad student, slapping away a cloud of flies. "Not quite a sex pyramid." Her tone was disapproving, almost haughty, but it still drew my eyes to her cleavage. Bethany scoffed, returning to making charcoal etchings of the carvings.

"Well, it's somewhere in theneighborhoodof a sex pyramid." She pointed up towards the structure. "It reminds me of theCobápyramid, and that was definitely a sex pyramid, right prof?" She grinned up to my mother, who blew a hair out of her face and rolled her eyes.

"Come on." Dr. Waters tapped my shoulder, pointing towards the slightly too-tall steps as the rest of the research party continued their investigation of the pillars, carefully excavating and brushing away the mud in which they were ensconced. "There could be some interesting carvings up top." Carlie, passing a shovel to her graduate compatriot, snorted.

"Hardly, those stones are the first to get quarried off for building materials." She pointed down into the sucking, fetid mud now enclosing her boot. "This is where the real archaeology happens!" I grinned. The grad student cut a ridiculous, but dedicated figure, confidently sinking into the mud of the riverbank. Her enthusiasm almost made me feel guilty for jerking off to her so many times.

My mother and I climbed the steps towards the pyramidion cupola, a small room astride the top of many mesoamerican and Incan pyramids.

"Don't let her get you down- if nothing else it will get us away from the bugs." Mom was breathing hard, but she couldn't help but embrace the infectious optimism. It went a long way towards dissolving the tension from the morning, but didn't quite set me at ease. I had a feeling she was trying to wrangle avery seriousconversation out of me. Instead, I increased my pace, getting ahead of her with my sprightly hamstrings. I was going to make her work for her motherly discussion.

Summiting the pyramid I gasped for air, catching both my breath and a soft, cooling breeze through my hair. In front of me, a large stone slab at hip height filled most of the space.

"No mysterious golden idol!" I called back down the stairs to the group as mom slogged up behind me, giving a similar groan of pleasure at the cooler air. "But some wicked carvings..." I dropped my voice so only she could hear me, as I ran a hand over the slab.

I wasn't an archeologist, but I would be crazy to not recognize the beautiful stonework for what it was. The center had a dinner-plate-sized depression hollowed into it, full of rainwater, which I assumed hadn't done too much damage despite the years of exposure to the elements.

The subjects of the carvings entwined eternally in the stone before me, the clarity of the etchings belying their antiquity, were evidently sexual in nature. Hundreds of ancient lovemaking diagrams, part-art, part-instructional. Most depicting a prototypical 'fertility figure' of the kind common the world over to similar ancient cultures, with exaggerated hips and breasts, towering over the diminutive male save for his cartoonish phallus. Above all, another many-armed feminine figure splayed her fingers into swirling shapes. Potentially a matriarchal society?

I ran my hands down the slab, finding a curving, flowing script covering it. I frowned, unfamiliar with the language. Perhaps some dialect of Incan khipu wrought directly into stone? I was interrupted in my musing as the good doctor arrived at my side.

"It's like a pre-Cabraline kama sutra!" Dr. Waters exclaimed, sending a flush up my neck, despite the chill breeze still keeping the temperature down. My mother's hand was now also working over the carvings, an undeniably human gesture of interest, despite her PhD. "Don't tell Bethany she was ri-" She froze.

Our hands were entwined, somehow, despite neither of us intending for them to do so. Another blast of cold air ruffled our hair with its intensity, and I felt goosebumps climb my arms. The weather forecast certainly did not support chill, let alonecoldair in the depths of the Amazon.

I found my eyes drawn to the center of the slab, into the larger indentation in the surface, seemingly dark, deeper than it could've possibly been. I extended the hand not wrapped around my mother's, delving into the pool.

"Steven, we should talk about this morning..." My mom's voice was cautious, an unvoiced reproach evident in it, clearly focused on the hand which touched hers, her memory dragged back to the illicit actions she'd encouraged that morning. I ignored her, pulling my hand back, clutching a strange artifact- a pair of simple stone rings, one fitting within the other with room to spare. Mom gave me a quizzical look as I withdrew my hand, holding the stone rings up to her.

"Are these contemporary?" I frowned, twisting them this way and that. They caught the light with their smooth, dark, unblemished surfaces. They were large hoops of delicate stonework, I couldn't imagine them being chiseled and staying in a single piece.

"Wedding necklaces?" Her voice held some measure of surprise. "They're an ancient traditional collar- thing." I held them between us, and watched as her eyes unfocused, causing her to trail off as they did so.

A buzzing sound filled my ears as I grasped her wrist, a sudden burst of adrenaline firing into my brain. I needed to put it on her, and to wear one myself. I had no idea what was compelling me, but the voice in my head was insistent, demanding.

"Steven, we need to talk about this morning." My mother accepted the collar over her head gratefully, seemingly absent concern for why I would do so, letting it rest against her cleavage as I donned my own.

"What do you want to talk about?" I pulled her close to me, my hands dropping from her wrists to her hips as the artifacts took hold. I could feel my own wants and desires eroding, falling by the wayside as strong, forceful wind howled through the trees around us. Only one desire remained, a carnal one, a concern of the flesh which pressed against the inside of my trousers.

In an instant, I was sweating, then the sweat chilled upon my brow. Confusion shot through my brain in bursts as I fought against the desires roiling in my stomach. I could tell my mother was feeling the same way, her brows knitted together beneath the framing of her messy bun.

My heart ached as I stared into her eyes. It had been so long since I'd been connected to her. Despite that morning's amorous actions on my own part, I still felt distant, skating off an invisible wall of emotional hurt and discontent my father's departure had built around her. I watched as her pupils dilated, and I could feel a chink in the armor.

In an instant, our reluctance erodedexplosively.

"You should have shot your loadinside me!" My mother hissed, coming unexpectedly alive, pulling my head down to lock her lips against mine. Our collars clacked together, a pleasing resonance from their harmonious alignment, and I tasted my mom's mouth for the first time, any thought of our emotional connection abating as our instinctive needs took hold. Her saliva was a chorus of desire and fruit, tasting like the jungle itself- hot, wet, and ready to suck me in.

I didn't argue with it. I don't know why but the thought of my mother as a sexual being, an object of my desire, no longer seemed like something I could only shamefully masturbate towards. I'd lost hold of my inhibitions, and they were as nebulous as the air between my fingers. It seemed in that moment to be the most natural thing ever to want to fuck my mother, and for her to want to fuck me back. I almost laughed, the idea of not wanting to do it with her as farfetched as the opposite had felt a moment before.

The carvings seemed to shift, moving in rhythmic time as I spun her around. We were both filthy, covered in mud and bug bites, but at that moment I couldn't have cared less, and neither could she. The esteemed Dr. Waters vanished as my mother, Abigail, struggled to slide her pants down over her ass, bending forward on the slab as I fumbled my belt free, pushing my own down to match her. The expanse of pale skin, two globes of ass before me, looked just like I'd seen that morning. Grasping it, feeling her heartbeat through her dermis, that was something else entirely.

The collar sang to me as I released my penis- five inches of erect manhood, full of blood and craving release despite the morning's load. I could smell my mother's dripping slit, her pheromones telling me she was ripe and eager to accept me, my nostrils flaring to scent her on the breeze. Her necklace clinked on the stone, and she looked back, her eyes alight with the fire of the fertility goddess herself, a deity which had once owned this place, and was now flowing between us. A wordless cry of entreaty emerged from her mouth, a command and a request, but undoubtedly sexual.

I aligned myself with her slit, sticky secretions dripping from my mother's pussy in long ropes onto the floor of the cupola. I was fascinated, feeling the wetness as my glans touched the folds of her labia. The barest pressure, and I would slide into her like the inrushing of the tide, like the flow of the Amazon itself.

I hesitated for a second, feeling the pressure of the buzzing on my eardrums increase. The collar wanted me to penetrate her, to pump my load into my mother's belly. I wanted it, she wanted it, so why did it feel so odd? I glanced back down the pyramid- we were fully in view of the rest of the team, not even bothering to hide our amorous encounter. They simply hadn't looked up to watch mother and son defile their familial bonds.

My mother wiggled her hips back and forth, giving my penis a taste of what awaited it if I would only press forward. I sucked in breath through my teeth as I felt her outer folds around my cockhead. My moment of hesitation crumbled, unable to resist the call from the band of stone around my neck, pulling me forward. I thrust my hips against my mother's from behind, sliding my cock halfway inside the birth canal I'd emerged from two decades before.

We both moaned in pleasure, my wildest fantasies insufficient to describe the feeling of bare skin against bare skin. I could feel her fluids coating me like honey, and I pulled back momentarily before pushing forward against her with a loudslap. The nectar of her arousal lubricated me, and it seemed her vagina was sucking me into her, forcing me to fully bottom out in my mother's pussy. I gasped, my eyes wide and my jaw slack with the sensations lashing against my cerebellum.

"Oh god yes, Steven, fuck me!" Her voice was high and needy, her back arched as she moaned. I began to thrust in and out, forcefully, like a virgin on prom night confronted with his first hole. It wasn't lovemaking, it was primal fucking, animalistic and rough. My mother's shirt and cleavage rubbed against the stone of the altar, picking up centuries of grime as I claimed her slit with my bare cock, precum leaking into her with no thought for pulling out.

It was inevitable, it was natural, and (even if it was a little faster than what I'd consider average for me) it was what the goddess wanted. In hindsight, it was a little embarrassing to cum so quickly, but itwasour first time together. Before I could even consider notifying my mother of my climax, I felt my cock swell inside her, semen boiling from my balls to fire deep into her womb.

"Yes! Oh Steven, yes!" She was practically begging for my seed to shoot into her, for my sperm to fill her belly. I could only continue to thrust, emptying my life essence inside her, driven by the circlet around my neck, grasping her thick hips with disregard for her comfort. Ineededto spray my DNA into her, it wasn't a simple desire, not a lusting thought. This was the way the Amazon worked, a primal and urgent imperative spiraling directly from her brain to mine. Rope after rope spurted into my mother, into the very vagina in which she'd grown me. Millions of sperm cells, swimming into my mom's tight snatch from my throbbing cock.

The wind swirled around us as we consummated our love, mother and son fulfilling the erstwhile goddess' desires in a cacophony of lust. Our heads empty of concern for the briefest of moments before I pulled out, watching a waterfall of thick, sticky semen drip from her freshly-fucked hole onto the moss-covered stones of the temple. My mother swayed for a moment, her knees shaking and weak, her lungs gasping at the realization of what we'd just done together. She shook as her hand dropped to the fabric around her ankles, pulling her pants up with one hand, and leaning unsteadily on the slab with the other.

"Steven? What just happened?" She sounded as shell-shocked as I felt, the incest we'd just committed hitting both of us in an instant. I struggled to pull my own pants up, glancing back down the pyramid, finding nothing amiss as the archaeologists continued their excavation. My manhood throbbed with the echoes of my orgasm, and I couldn't draw my eyes away from the shiny fluid coating the outside of my mother's pussy lips, the feeling of them clenching around me chiseled into my brain as surely as the carvings surrounding us.

"I-I don't know!" I felt a ball of trepidation rising in my throat. "I don't know what just happened!" My mother's fingers were tight around the collar, pulling this way and that at the ring of stone.

"Do you know how we get these off?" She sounded almost panicked, until another breeze blew through the trees around us. My own fingers fastened around the stone circlet as I struggled in vain to get it away from my skin.

"Let's-let's just worry about getting out of here..." I stated, uncertainly, it was just as intractably fixed around my throat, seemingly smaller than it had been when I'd put it on only a few minutes before.

Despite the urgency I felt to remove the marriage collar, as the breeze stirred my hair, I felt an even more urgent need. No, not to return to my mother's pussy, although that wasn't far from my mind, but to be out of Brazil altogether. To be home- we needed to get home. Like a hook penetrating my skin, the message hooked into my heart. I'd only meant to return to the bottom of the pyramid, but Abigail and I seemed to be of a single mind.

"Yes, we need to go home." Mom nodded, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion once again. This trip had been intended to last for weeks, but suddenly that didn't seem as important to either of us as it had only hours before. We'd just made the discovery of a career, but as she succeeded in buttoning her pants back into place, her voice shook with urgency. "I'll call the evac helicopter." I watched the swaying of her hips as she descended the stairs, still somewhat unsteady on her feet, tucking the stone necklace beneath the cloth of her vest collar in a vain attempt to hide it.

I couldn't surprise the electric shock of excitement which went through me, knowing I'd just pumped my sperm into my mother. I tried to stop my heart from beating so fast as the heat of the rainforest returned, raising my body temperature back to natural ranges. I'd just defiled my mother's body, the woman who had birthed me into this world now had a hundred million incestuous sperm swimming through her fallopian tubes.

What's worse, I knew it wasn't going to be the last time.