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.

"Does it ever make you horny?" The question cut through the music humming in my headphones as I pored over an erotic relief categorized asD32P189. It was another late night in the lab, and I found my personal space encroached upon, not by my mother, but byCarlie. She was sitting on the lab bench stool next to me, twirling a lock of hair around her finger, a small smile suggestively curling the corner of her mouth.

"Sorry, w-what did you say?" I pulled the earbuds from my ears, suddenly aware of my arousal in a deeply uncomfortable way. I tried to avoid showing it, but I didn't have much of a successful track record for chatting up beautiful coeds (outside my mother, of course).

"I just asked if looking at these carvings ever made you think of anything..." Her smile widened as she watched me squirm. She was several years my senior, and had been an object of my affections during our South American trip, but I hadn't exactly been in a courting mood since our return.

"I mean, yeah. It's interesting to see what ancient people carved." I tried to play things cool.

"I think it just means that people have always been horny." Carlie lifted one eyebrow, eyes flashing downward in a meaningful way. "Always." Her suggestion was obvious, even to me, but it wasn't until I spotted movement behind her, over by the lab door, that I decided to reciprocate.

"I knowsomethingabout that, I guess." This time, I returned her smile, leaning towards her conspiratorily. "I'm guessing that's a problem for you, being locked in here with all of these..." I splayed my fingers over some nearby pictures, images captured to provide a baseline of the pictoforms, all erotic in nature. They featured women in various sexually dominant positions, always posed as superior to their diminutive male partner.

"Maybe that's a problem you can help me out with?" She purred, leaning in towards me. I felt my cock jump in my pants, eager and aroused, needy after weeks of pent-up supernatural erotic desires without release. Her hand reached out, grasping mine and positioning it over one of the more lurid carvings. "These are all about youth- about being young and present,together." She grinned.

"Maybe we can discuss our ideas over coffee?" I proposed, feeling her hand squeeze mine.

"I'd like that, how about-" Carlie began, her hand cool against the warmth of my skin.

"Ah-HEM." Abigail cleared her throat loudly behind Carlie, causing us both to jump.

"Oh! Doctor Waters! Sorry, I was just-" Carlie began.

"If you don't mind, would you be able to pull theD33series? I want to make sure we get to those tomorrow." My mother's voice was stern and commanding, the austere lines on her face carved in stone, somewhat undercut by the evident pregnant stomach she now sported.

"Of course, I'll grab them from storage!" Carlie scampered, almost upending her stool in her urgency to avoid a conversation with her graduate advisor about hitting on her son in the workplace. Upon her departure, Abigail whirled towards me.

"What the hell was that?!" She hissed at me.

"Is there a rule against flirting in the lab?" I shrugged, then stretched languidly. "I mean, if you're not going to fulfill your-"

My mother's mouth cut off my words, affixing firmly, even aggressively to my own. This wasn't my affectionate exploration from our previous laboratory tryst, this was a feral, dominant display. Her hands grasped my head, holding me still as her tongue fought mine.

For a moment, I was shaken, this was a new side to my mother that I hadn't seen before while not under the effect of the goddess. I wrapped my arms around her, indulging my arousal by grasping her supple rear, my hands investigating her body as though we'd never been intimate before. It might have been a minute, or perhaps ten, but eventually she broke off from me. Still holding my head in her hands, she affixed me with her gaze.

"If we have to do it, you're all mine." Abigail's words were sharp, and I could feel the necklace, cold against my skin, practically humming with energy. "If you're mine, that meansno talkingto other women." Her voice was low, husky and tense. I nodded, and she slowly released her grasp on my face, as though surprised to see that she'd been holding it in the first place.

"So-" I swallowed. "Does this mean we'retogether?" I watched emotions flash across her face. Surprise, anger, perhaps excitement?

"It means we're in a fucked up situation, and until we get out of it, you're not allowed totalkto anyone else." She emphasizedtalkto get her euphemistic point across. I shifted uncomfortably, painfully aware of my own arousal.

"I'm not sure I can wait until we figure things out, mom. I want a life, I want to enjoy college!" I felt my blood rise- she wasn't understanding how hard this was for me.

"Fine!" Her voice was sharp, cutting. "Take your whore to bed!" I almost gasped. My mother had never spoken about another woman like that, and certainly not one of her own grad students.

She turned on her heel and stalked out of the lab, slamming the door behind her. I was stunned, but still flushed with impetuous, righteous anger. I'd wanted Carlie's presence to catalyze something between us, but had instead been left on-edge and blue-balled.

- - -

- - -

Despite my words, I didn't pursue Carlie. I hadn't even wanted her, not in the same way I wanted my pregnant mother. I tried to talk to Abigail several more times over the next week or two, but it wasn't until I overheard a conversation that I realized I'd been missing something from the equation of our relationship.

"-just thinking you might want to take some time off?" I started, one foot in the air, in the hallway outside Dr. Waters' office. The door was cracked, slightly open despite the evident intent to shut it. I couldn't help myself, I dawdled, eavesdropping.

"Roger, you know I'm not going to-" Abigail's voice, high and pleading.

"Abigail, please." The other voice was low and concerned, the Archaeology department head. I inwardly cringed, knowing the annoyance my mother would take at his familiarity in using her first name. "You've been snapping at your GTAs regularly, and you're clearly having a tough time of it." A pause in their conversation. "Is the father in the picture?" His tone was inquisitive, but I could almost hear my mother stiffen at the question.

"He isn't, and he doesn't need to be." Her voice was clipped and angry, struggling to hold down her emotions. "I've been a single mother before." She wasn't about to be talked down to, by anyone.

"Abigail, I'm telling you this as a friend: You need to take care of your students, you need to focus on your excavation- these are parts of your job you can't ignore. As far as your pregnancy you need to either get help or..." His voice trailed off. I knew it wasn't something he could say aloud, as a supposed friend or as a supervisor.

"Roger, back off." My mother's tone was icy. "I'll figure something out, and I don't need your help to do it." I heard a rustle as the man rose to his feet, and I stepped back into the shadows of the corridor.

"Abigail, take the weekend, think about things, but don't push away people who are only trying to help you." Footsteps rang towards the door, and I tried to look inconspicuous. As expected, Roger exited, swishing in the other direction, enabling my continued subterfuge.

I could feel my blood boiling, pulsing in my ears. I wanted to attack him, or at least give him a piece of my mind for talking down to my mother like that. Instead, after a moment of paralysis, I chose the less violent option, and burst through the door into my mother's office, swinging the door well and truly shut behind me. She looked up at me, and I could see the tracks of tears tracing their way down her face, sending a shard of ice into my heart.

"Steven! I-" Her jaw clenched, trying desperately to contain the emotions evidently roiling within her. Wordlessly, I rounded her desk, gathering her into my arms, feeling her now truly-pregnant belly pressing against me as I embraced her.

"Steven, I'm going to get rid of it." Her voice was choked, strained. "I can't keep-" I forestalled her with a kiss, firm and intimate, feeling her lips part to allow my tongue to enter her mouth. For a moment, we mixed our saliva once again, the softness of her tongue sliding against mine before I broke away, staring into her eyes.

"No." My voice was soft, gentle, but serious. "We're not aborting our baby." My hands moved down her body, feeling her curves, the flow of her hips, the changes pregnancy was already writing onto her skin.

"But Roger said-" She began, but gasped as my hands pulled at her pants, jostling them loose and pushing them down to her knees.

"Roger was right- you need help." My mouth found hers again, even as I felt her hands pulling at my clothes in turn, releasing my throbbing manhood from the fabric prison, allowing it to rub against her soft cotton panties. "I was so busy being your son that I didn't realize you were waiting for me to become apartner." My hands found her baby bump, now pronounced on her stomach, and I pulled up her shirt to release it, to cradle it in my hands, a life growing inside her body. "That wasn't fair, and I'm sorry I ever made that mistake."

"I never needed you to be more than who you are." My mother's voice cracked, and I could feel her tears, still wet against my chest. "You deserve to be able to be a young man, with a normal life, and a normal girlfriend, and-" I could tell she was spiraling, and caught her chin in my fingers.

"Screw having anormal life." I smiled, my eyes momentarily softening despite my blood boiling with a mix of anger at Roger, and desire for my own flesh and blood. "Who said I ever wanted anyone but you?" Our lips met like old friends, or new lovers, but despite the passion, there was something else there, something more primal, more vulnerable, more personal.

"Well, you and Carlie seemed so- well matched." Her voice choked with despair, and for a moment, I fought the urge to laugh. It was absurd, the idea that I could ever love anyone more than my mother, that some grad student could even begin to compare to her beauty.

"The only match I need is right here." My hand found her stomach again, caressing and cradling the pouch of skin which held our offspring within her. "You're the only one I ever want, now and forever, and I love you more than I couldeverlove another woman." My words were a balm to her broken heart, and the tears continued to roll down her cheeks, emotions boiling together on her face.

"I need you." She voiced, tremulously, for a moment echoing the tone of the words of the spirit possessing Madame Zuma, causing my heart to jump in my chest. "I love you." Her voice was almost a whisper. We'd said it before, plenty of times, but this wasn't the love of a mother to her son, but of a wife to her husband.

I kissed her then, for real. Perhaps for the first time, I felt her body against mine, no longer a base instinct, no longer forced by the collars, but with intention. She was mine, I was hers, and I knew that wasn't going to change any time soon.

"We need to build our family." I pulled aside her panties, revealing her puffy vaginal slit. My bare penis touched against her momentarily, and I pushed her back onto her desk, allowing her to spread her legs to receive me, upending piles of files and artifacts which had (until recently) resided there.

"Your baby girl needs her father." My mother's voice was soft, almost a whisper. I gasped as I felt my bare cockhead enter her, pushing aside her labia as I coated myself with her vaginal fluids.

"You- it's a girl?" My voice shook as I pushed further inside, slowly, inch by inch. This wasn't the rough, needy incest we'd experienced before, this was a gentle feeling of desire, of cherishing each other like never before. This was the love of two parents together, like I'd seen when I was young, but this time she was withmeinstead of my father.

"It's a girl!" Abigail moaned, bucking her hips against me as I bottomed out inside her, feeling the tightness of her walls, the fluid affection of her pregnant body as it responded to the man who had bred her.

I kept my hands on her baby bump, pumping in and out of her slit with my thick manhood, cradling the child we'd made together as I worked on pleasuring my mother.

"This is right." Her breath hissed from between clenched teeth. "This is what the baby needs, this is whatIneed!" I could feel it too, like the clenched fear in the pit of my stomach had finally been allowed to unclench, months after it had first appeared deep in the rainforest.

"This is what the goddess wants." I breathed, thrusting in and out of my mother's pussy, feeling her desire, my own, and the power pulsing through our collars.

"It was about love!" My mother exclaimed, practically laughing as her vaginal walls clenched around me, rhythmically pleasuring her son in the middle of her office. Neither of us cared about who could hear us, or indeed, who could see us through the slats in her office blinds. The only thing I could see were the depths of my mother's eyes, the swollen womb filled with my child, and the dripping hole I was now able to use for our shared enjoyment.

"It was aboutfamily!" I grunted, and plunged deep into her vagina, feeling my cockhead press against her innermost sanctum. A jet of warmth sprayed into her, my cock twitching a flood of genetic material into my mother's belly, coating our child's amniotic sac with her father's protein-rich fluid. I groaned with pleasure, leaning down to kiss my mother, unconsciously thrusting in and out of her to ensure the depth of my depravity. Her legs wrapped around me, keeping me fully immersed in her breeding hole.

"Family, our family." Her voice was dazed, almost ethereal.

We stayed like that for too long, ignoring the world outside as my semen began to dribble down my mother's desk, pooling on the floor beneath us in a puddle of our shared incestuous desires.

"What do we do now?" Her voice was hesitant, tremulous, breathy as her eyelids fluttered against mine.

"I guess-" We both gasped as I slid my cock from my mother's embrace, a slick sound accompanying a flood of juices from her freshly-fucked pussy. "We start our new life."

"Together?" She moaned, her fingers dropping to her hole, emerging sticky and coated with strings of our shared DNA. I could feel a heat rising in my chest, a feeling which could only be love, affection for a wife, as I'd never felt before.

"Together. Forever." I stated, leaning in again to kiss her, this time as a partner, rather than just a son.

I felt her hands roam over my body, exploring me in a way no mother technically should. She was losing her last shreds of shame, replaced by the eagerness of a new relationship. This time, without thought for taboo, or for our different ages.

"Your baby is excited." Her mouth curled into a smile, and both hands returned to her own body, framing her swollen abdomen with a heart-shaped design of her fingers. "I can feel her already." I leaned in to kiss her stomach, willing the fetus inside to feel it too.

"She's excited to see me!" I joked.

I didn't realize at the time, but I was more correct than I could've possibly imagined.

- - -

- - -

That night, for the first time, I didn't leave my door open. I didn't need to, as I joined my mother in the master bedroom. Intermittently, I was sheathed within her body, exploring and engaging with her as only a newly-minted couple can. It was new- her body responding to me as it had never before. I was reminded of my parents' relationship when I was a child, a vague happy blur of watching them together.

Despite herself, my mother struggled slightly to see me in our new light. In the days after our office tryst, I found her looking at me, her eyes distant. In those moments, I recognized she needed to be reclaimed with a touch, or a kiss, and I had plenty of both to spare.

Slowly, sure as the tides, Dr. Waters, and my mother, began to recede. The woman who replaced her was vivacious, lithe and emotive, a lover of art and music. A gem, a multifaceted stone cut and polished to perfection on the lathe of my affection. Ours ceased to be a story of lust, of supernaturally-enforced pleasure, and became one of love.

I didn't stop calling her 'Mom' as I could see the thrill shoot through her whenever we voiced our relation, illicit and erotic in equal measure; this person was not my mother anymore though. She was my partner. She was my love. She was my wife in all but paperwork.

She was simply Abigail.

Obviously, it wasn't all smooth sailing. One afternoon of fucking on university property, and a few weeks of the honeymoon phase wasn't going to be able to fix the relationships my mother had strained with her pregnancy angst, or rebuild the grades I'd been allowing to dip.

Needless to say, however, things were justeasierwhen we were able to be ourselves together. My mornings in lecture felt less onerous when I didn't have to leave my door open as a vain, desperate invitation. Instead, I was sleeping solidly, entwined in an embrace of arms and legs, tenderly cradling my mother's growing belly.

In turn, Dr. Waters' graduate students found that she was less of a powder keg. Part of that, I'm sure, was that she had someone to massage her feet and shoulders, and pound her pregnant pussy full of cum at least twice a day. Part, without a doubt, was the support of a partner, a husband and father-to-be.

The necklaces became less a prison, more a welcoming friend, a constant companion channeling energy into us. It was like we'd been resisting the flow of a raging river for months since our trip to South America, and we'd finally allowed ourselves to go with that flow instead. Like a lazy, winding flow caressing us towards the ocean, deep, but warm. The goddess allowed us respite when we needed it, but allowed us to continue on like eager teenagers when we wanted to, but otherwise couldn't. I couldn't say whether Madame Zuma knew, truly, what we were going to encounter if we continued down the path of love, but I think she did.

The power was within us, in our relationships, our toils, and our love of one another.