Mistletoe Magic

Mistletoe Magic - Ch.2

As always, Copyright remains with the author. Enjoy. thepeckker

When Justin awoke the following morning, he realised he had been snoring deeply during the night. His mouth felt parched and had an unpleasant taste reminiscent of a sewer. Stretching his body, he instinctively reached down to scratch his large balls, discovering the crusty remnants of dried cum.

It was then that the recollections of the previous evening rushed back to him. His mother had come into his room, and they had indulged in the most uninhibited sex he had ever known. They had both surrendered to their incestuous cravings, and had fucked each other... twice, in rapid succession.

He could still feel the warmth and slickness of her body as he entered her velvety canal. It felt so effortless and natural as they found their frenzied rhythm, as if they were insatiable and craving each other deeper and harder.

He hadn't noticed her leaving his bed during the night. All he was aware of was that she wasn't there beside him when he opened his eyes. The sheets cold where she should have been.

Groaning at the pleasurable memories of the night before, he felt his cock begin to harden as he pushed the sheets aside and made his way toward the shower...a cold one!

Afterwards, while dressing for the day ahead, he'd heard his father's old pickup cough into life and head out to the factory. That would mean that his mother would be alone in the house. He quickly finished dressing and headed up the basement stairs.

When he entered the kitchen, he saw her. Dressed only in her old pink robe, she stood with her back to the kitchen bench, waiting for him to find her.

The second his shoe hit the wooden kitchen floor, Claudia's palm shot up—stop. No words, just a sharp nod toward the chair. Justin fell into it with elbows on the table, while she dragged her own chair closer with a scrape. Her fingers reached across the table and locked around his like she was afraid he'd bolt.

"Justin," her voice cracked like dry kindling, "we can't pretend last night didn't happen."

His knee bounced under the table, "Pretend?.. Mom, what we did was amazing. I'm getting hard right now just thinking about it!"

Her cheeks burned brighter than the stove light. Christ, she was the same... and could still feel him—the sweat, the way her nails dug into his back when she came. She pressed her thighs together under the robe. She had to steer this wreck before it rolled off the cliff.

"Firstly baby... are you okay? Like, really okay? I know this is not something that's normal, you know, seeing your mother like... and we just... Jesus, that wasn't making love Justin, we were going at it like goddamn animals in heat. And I'm not gonna lie, I lost control... completely."

Justin squeezed his mom's hands harder, trying to steady his breathing against the adrenaline thumping through him. His throat felt tight.

"Mom," he said, voice rough but trying to stay gentle, "I need to get stuff out in the open and it might change everything... ruin everything I mean, but I'm okay. Really! I'm not broken, just..." he swallowed hard, and then blurted out, "I'm feeling very loved, desired and wanted by a woman that I feel the same about. I know it's not right for a son to feel this way about his mother, but I do."

Calming himself he then continued, "I think part of me's always felt this. Maybe that's why Dad and I fought so much... because I hated watching him have what I couldn't," his fingers twitched against hers, "and I know it's wrong..."

"But..." Claudia interjected.

"Wait—just let me say this, Mom," his fingers clutched at the air like he could grab the right words, "If last night was just some one-time thing, fine. I'd still be happy just being your son, but Mom," his voice cracked, "that was different. Better than anything. Maria, anyone else... it wasn't even close. I didn't think you'd, that you'd be like that. It wasn't just sex. It was like... we just fit. Like we were meant to move like that... and I don't wanna lose it Mom! God, I want you... more than anything, because I love you... All of you!"

Claudia didn't answer. Tears blurred her vision, her son's face swimming in front of her.

The kitchen was so quiet you could hear the clock ticking. The two of them sitting in the heavy silence. He'd just dropped a bombshell on Claudia—something she never saw coming. But suddenly, all those ugly fights with his dad clicked into place. No wonder he'd taken off after finding out about Maria and Greg. Kid probably felt like he had nobody in his corner. Claudia sat there forever, trying to swallow past the tightness in her throat. Now she had to tell her own truth.

"Justin... god, I don't even know where to start," Claudia said exasperated, running a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply. "All these years, and I had no idea you felt that way about me. Christ, if I'd known..." she shook her head with a bitter chuckle, "well, we could've talked about this ages ago. But we can't rewrite history, can we? And last night... that's history now too."

She bit her lip, hesitating, "Okay, look... the whole world would say this thing between us is messed up, seriously messed up," her neck flushed pink as she lowered her voice almost to a whisper, "But Justin? I haven't felt this alive in forever... and your dad? Well he checked out way before you and Maria split. I'd forgotten what wanting someone actually felt like... and my god, I loved every goddamn minute of it! But I still love your father Justin. He's a good man... despite his lack of attention... and I don't want to lose him... either of you... or my marriage... Oh! what a mess..."

Claudia paused, her breathing fast, her face scowled with uncertainty and fear.

"I just—Christ, Justin, do you even understand what we did?" her words stilted and brittle, "You're myson," she emphasised.

Justin could sense she was retreating, questioning her own morals and her desires. He decided just to hit her hard.

"And you came harder than I've ever felt anyone cum, Mother!" he said, low and deliberate, watching the way her breath hitched, "Twice!"

Her lips parted—whether to protest or moan, he couldn't tell, but then she exhaled, sharp and surrendering, her free hand stroking his wrist.

"God help me," she whispered, "but I want to do it again."

"Then stop overthinking it," he pleaded, dragging his thumb over the pulse point at her wrist, "We keep it quiet. Nobody has to know."

Claudia's laugh was shaky, "Easy for you to say," she countered, "But what if Frank finds out? Or your brother?"

"Then we'll lie," he said simply, "Better than pretending last night didn't happen."

Her sharp intake of breath was answer enough.

Justin got up and walked around the table, pulling her to her feet, he slipped his arms around her waist into a tight embrace.

Claudia pulled back slightly, her back against the laminate bench, "You make it sound so simple," she hissed, but her legs parted slightly—just enough for him to press closer, "like this isn't—"

"—The hottest thing you've ever done?" Justin finished for her, nipping at her earlobe. She shuddered, and he grinned against her skin. "Admit it Mom. You're already wet again, aren't you?"

A choked noise escaped her throat... half protest, half want, "Arsehole!" she breathed, but her hips rocked forward, grinding against him, "Fine. Yes. But—"

The vibration of his phone in his pocket cut her off. Franks name flashed on the screen. Claudia froze. Justin didn't. He silenced it with one thumb, never breaking eye contact as he tossed it onto the counter.

"When?" he prompted, tracing the outline of her nipple through the thin fabric. "Say it Mom."

Claudia exhaled through her nose, her nails scraping against his forearm—not pushing him away, just holding on.

"When we're sure," she said, her voice steadier than she felt, "No slips. No risks. And never, ever in my bed!" her pulse hammered under his fingers, "Your father might not notice shit, but I'm sure he'd notice that!"

"Okay Mom... sooooo, how about now, on say, the kitchen bench," he said with a cheeky grin.

Claudia swallowed a whimper, her fingers tightening in his hair, "Christ," she breathed, "You're gonna ruin me!"

Justin pulled back just enough to watch her unravel.

"No," he corrected, pressing his palm flat against her stomach, pushing the robe open, "I'm gonna make sure you remember what desire feels like!"

Her answering gasp was raw, unfiltered. The sound of a woman already gone. Claudia arched into his touch, her nails dragging down his chest.

"You think you're so clever," she whispered, but the catch in her breath betrayed her, "Like this isn't—"

"—Exactly what you want?" Justin finished, his fingers skating lower, tracing the damp heat between her thighs, her legs trembled, but she didn't pull away, "Tell me I'm wrong."

She couldn't. The confession lodged in her throat, instead, she bit his shoulder—hard enough to leave a mark—and groaned when his fingers slipped inside her.

"Fuck," she gasped, her hips jerking forward, "We can't... not here... you're gonna get us both killed," Claudia hissed, but her fingers were already fumbling with the tie of her robe, the fabric slipping open just enough to reveal the shadowed cleft between her thighs as his other hand slid beneath, fingers tracing the familiar ache between her legs.

"Still wet from yesterday," he murmured, like it was a revelation, "You been thinking about me, Mom?"

Claudia's breath caught again, denial was pointless as her body had already betrayed her, slick and eager under his touch.

"Shut up," she gasped, "Just... just fuck me already."

Justin dragged his fingers through her wetness, slow and deliberate, watching her pupils dilate.

"Say it properly," he murmured, lips grazing her earlobe, "tell me you need it."

Her nails dug into his shoulders... half protest, half plea.

"Brat," she hissed, as her hips rolled against his hand, chasing friction.

"Fine... I need it... I need a man to fuck me now! I need my son... I need you Justin!" The words tasted electric and dangerous on her tongue.

He rewarded her honesty by shoving the robe off her shoulders, baring her slightly sagging breasts and dark thatch of curls. The kitchen air was cool against her flushed skin. Justin paused—just for a second—to drink her in.

"Fuck, you're beautiful Mom," he muttered, almost angry, before pinning her against the counter.

Claudia laughed—a breathless, uneven sound, and palmed his erection through his jeans.

"That's not what you used to say when I'd tell you to clean your room," she teased, nibbling his earlobe.

Justin growled and yanked his shirt off, revealing wiry muscles earned from his years of gym and surfing.

"That's because I hadn't seen you like this," he countered, grinding against her thigh.

Her fingers flew to his belt, shoving his pants down. His cock sprang free—thick, flushed, already dripping.

Claudia didn't hesitate; she wrapped her hand around him and squeezed. Justin hissed, hips jerking forward.

"Christ, Mom—"

She cut him off with a rough kiss, tasting desperation and salt.

"Less talking baby!" she murmured against his lips, "more proving that mouth's good for something else."

Justin groaned, grabbing her ass with both hands and hoisted her onto the counter. The laminate was cold against her thighs, but she barely noticed—not when he was spreading her legs wider, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh of her inner thighs.

The moment Claudia's thighs parted, Justin's breath gulped—not at the sight of her, but at the sudden, undeniable realisation that she wanted this.

Her dark curls glistened, already slick, and when he dragged a thumb through her folds, she arched against his hand with a sharp, bitten-off sound.

"Jesus, Mom," he muttered, half-admiring, half-worshipful, before ducking his head to taste her properly.

Her hips jerked the second his tongue swiped up her slit, hot and insistent, and Justin groaned against her, the vibration drawing a broken moan from her throat. He worked her clit with deliberate strokes, the way he thought she'd like, but when he shoved two fingers inside her without warning, Claudia's hand fisted in his hair, yanking hard enough to burn.

"Fuck!... fuck!" her breath came in ragged bursts, thighs trembling around his head as she ground down against his mouth, chasing the pressure.

He curled his fingers just so, to that special spot on the roof of her cunt, her entire body locked up, a choked gasp escaping her before she came with a shuddering cry, slick and messy against his tongue.

Justin didn't let up, licking her through it until she was writhing, oversensitive, her nails scraping his scalp in protest.

"Enough!.. enough baby," she panted.

But he only grinned, pressing a final, filthy kiss to her inner thigh before pulling back to watch her chest heave, her pupils blown wide, thighs still shaking when she reached for him.

"You sure?" he breathed, dragging his cock along her wetness, teasing, "Last chance to pretend this isn't happening."

Claudia hooked her ankles behind his back, pulling him in until the blunt head of his cock nudged against her entrance.

"Don't you dare stop now," she warned, her voice cracking halfway through, "Not when I can finally feel how much you—"

The rest dissolved into a gasp as he thrust inside, her body yielding easily after yesterday's trespass.

He didn't move at first, just stayed buried to the hilt, their foreheads pressed together as they panted. Justin's hands trembled where they gripped her hips—too tight, she'd bruise—but Claudia only arched into the pain, relishing the way he controlled her.

"Look at you," she whispered, running her fingers through his sweat-damp hair, "all that talk, and here you are—" she clenched around him deliberately, watching his pupils blow wide, "—shaking like a virgin."

Justin's answering snarl was pure hunger. He pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in, the force knocking a ceramic bowl off the counter. It shattered against the tile, but neither of them flinched.

"Still wanna mock me, Mom?" he gritted out, setting a punishing rhythm. Her nails scored his shoulders as she clung to him, her moans sharp and unrepentant.

Claudia's thighs still trembled where they bracketed his hips, the muscles jumping with each brutal thrust. The counter dug into her ass, the discomfort only heightening the obscene pleasure coiling tighter in her gut. She could smell her own arousal mingling with the scent of Justin's sweat—something intimate, feral—and it made her clench around him harder, dragging a ragged groan from his throat.

His hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head back to expose her throat. She expected teeth, but he surprised her—his mouth was shockingly tender where it traced the flutter of her pulse. The juxtaposition made her whimper; the tenderness hurt more than any rough handling could.

"Justin—"

His name broke in her mouth as he moved his hand between them, his thumb found her clit, rubbing tight circles that had her vision whiting out at the edges.

The orgasm hit her like a truck, her back arching so violently she nearly head-butted him.

Justin swore, barely catching her before she slipped off the counter, but he didn't stop moving—if anything, he fucked her through it harder, chasing his own release.

Claudia could only gasp, oversensitive and wrecked, as he buried his face in her neck with a muffled curse, his hips stuttering erratically against hers.

Something clattered to the floor—his belt buckle, maybe—but the sound was drowned out by the wet slap of skin and their ragged breathing. Justin's fingers dug into her hips hard enough to leave fingerprints, his rhythm fracturing as he shuddered against her in his climax.

Claudia bit down on a hysterical laugh when she felt him spill inside her—hot and reckless—the sheer wrongness of it sending another jolt through her spent body.

For a long moment, they stayed like that—foreheads pressed together, sweat-slick and trembling—until Justin finally pulled out with a wince.

Claudia winced too, the sudden emptiness making her thighs twitch.

He reached for a dish towel, hesitating before handing it to her, his expression unreadable as she cleaned herself with shaky hands.

The silence stretched, thick with unsaid things, until Claudia finally cleared her throat.

"So," she said, aiming for casual and missing by a mile, "next time we're using the dining table."

Justin choked on a laugh, the tension snapping like a rubber band, and just like that, the spell was broken—for now.

Justin helped his mother from the countertop, her legs giving way slightly as she found the floor.

"Jesus Christ!" she gasped, still catching her breath, "you've wrecked me Justin—I can barely stand and my pussy's throbbing," then panic flashed in her eyes as she added, "Frank's gonna know. One look at how I'm walking and he'll know I've been up to no good!"

Justin wiped his cock with the dishtowel before tucking himself back into his jeans, grinning as he watched her wobble on weak knees.

"Then we better give him something else to focus on," he said, pulling her close and kissing her neck, his hands sliding down to squeeze her ass, "something cranky."

Claudia laughed—the sound rough and breathless—before swatting his hands away.

"Oh, I'll be cranky alright," she muttered, bending stiffly to pick up her robe, her body protesting every movement, "but not at him." She shot Justin a look that was equal parts exasperation and smug satisfaction, "you're gonna regret this later."

Claudia's breath caught when his teeth grazed the delicate skin. The counter's edge still bit into her lower back, a reminder of the reckless abandon they'd just indulged in. She could feel his cum trickling down her thigh—warm, shameful, undeniable—and the realisation made her clench around nothing.

The refrigerator hummed to life suddenly, the mundane sound jarring against the charged silence.

Justin smirked, stepping back to snag an apple from the fruit bowl, taking a loud, crunching bite. The casualness of it—like he hadn't just fucked her raw against the same counter where she'd created the roast dinner yesterday—made her stomach flip.

She watched, transfixed, as juice dripped down his chin. He caught it with his thumb, sucking it clean without breaking eye contact. Claudia's knees nearly gave out again.

"You're a menace," she breathed, clutching the robe tighter, though the damage was already done—her body sang with the evidence of him inside.

"Baby," she said quietly, her voice heavy. "can we just... take a break for a few days? I need time to think—about us, about what we did... and if we even have a future. Can you do that for me?"

Justin hugged her tight, pressing a kiss into her hair.

"Yeah, Mom. I can. It's gonna suck, but I'll try."

She exhaled, relieved, "Thank you. I've only got like, three days left—well, two and a half—to get everything ready for the Christmas party. Maria's coming over to help tomorrow, so if we can just... act normal, that'd be great."

Then, lower, almost teasing, "And my pussy would thank you too."

"Maybe I can get Dad to focus on the Crypto... that way he won't notice anything else going on around him, that will maybe give you some breathing space to..." laughing himself, "repair yourself!"

"That's actually not a bad idea—keeps us all busy, or at least distracted."

"Wait, hold up... Mom, where are your computers? Been here two days and haven't seen a single screen."

Claudia's gaze dropped to her worn-out slippers resting beside the table.

"We don't have any, sweetheart. Sold 'em."