MOM & ME + ALIEN ABDUCTION = INCEST by Oediplex

MOM & ME + ALIEN ABDUCTION = INCEST
Human sex had a special fascination for them, the BEMs.

By Oediplex 8==3~

This is a true story. I don’t expect you to believe it, however. My mother and I were abducted by aliens from outer space. They were not little green men. They were BEMs, Bug Eyed Monsters, though actually they treated us quite humanely. My mom is letting me write this story, since in this genre and on this site, anyone who reads it will naturally think it’s fiction. But I wanted to tell the real story. Because, someday if the Mother-Ship lands on the White House lawn, and they ask about June and Daniel DeLayne, well then our story can be confirmed and it will be available on the Internet.

Our tale of abduction begins not unlike a number of others, though I cannot substantiate the veracity of any but our own adventure. I had finished High School in a small mid-western town, and wanted to ‘see the West’ for my graduation present. My folks would not let me go alone, though I had an old car I bought for the trip, and money saved by working the last year part-time at the local granary. Mom volunteered to accompany me, since dad had to work, but he would join us on the last leg in two weeks, as we drove up the coast of California. I wanted to see the Petrified Forest, the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, the La Brea Tar Pits, those sorts of geological sites. I was a rock-hound since third grade.

I know you might be thinking we passed Area 57, and thus that was where we had our encounter of a close kind. But actually we hadn’t even gotten out of our home state, and when we finally arrived at where we were held captive, we knew we weren’t in Kansas anymore. Though it might have been Los Vegas for all we could tell, but that comes later. We had started out in the morning, and were switching off driving every two hours. Cruise control makes a big difference on long distance trips. We had a nice picnic lunch and ate dinner at a stop on the thruway. It was just past twilight, and we were soon to be at a motel where we had reservations. We never got there.

The car seemed to stall in the middle of nowhere, farm fields for miles each way. But with modern communications and the fact that any moment somebody would pass us whom we could flag down, we were not worried. Mom got out of the car, she was the mechanic in our family. I followed her, as much to stretch my legs as for any help I could lend. There was no sound of their ship until it appeared, hovering above us. The only sound there was from the ship was just a low thrumming hum and a light down draft. I looked up at the same time mom did. We both saw the same thing, as we compared notes later. A large round (about the size of a basketball court) silvery UFO From underneath it was round and convex, but I couldn’t see if it was saucer shaped with my perspective.

There wasn’t much time to get a gander at the gizmo as we each blanked out right then. When we came to, we were in a light blue colored room and were being sent through a machine that could have well been an MRI, except it was silent and had a ring big enough for us to fit through together. We were both without a stitch on, side by side, sliding through this huge machine. There were no beings to see, and when the scan [such as it was] finished, we blanked out once more. Next we woke in a room that might have been a small suite in a hotel, one double bed, which we were laying on. Dresser, easy chair and sofa, small table with two chairs, a kitchenette area and a bathroom, no door. In fact, no doors. No way out or in which was obvious. We looked at one another.

Still only in our birthday suits, we turned this way and that. Slightly wobbily, so neither of us immediately stood up we looked at each other once more and said together, the common phrase our family uses when confounded by things we find confusing or frustrating, or when we didn’t give a goodgoddamn. We spoke as one, “WHAAT THUH FUUCK?”

I know you are reading for the sex and I will get to that, but my purpose in writing this all down is to convey the whole of our experience. The next section actually explains much of what happens, but not the mechanics nor the technology behind the how. If you want to skip to the sex; scroll down to you see “WHAAT THUH FUUCK?” again. But you won’t understand a lot, just the erotic parts. That’s okay, but come back to this section after the sex and you have a good cum. I think that it helps to give the reader a sense of what we dealt with. It happened toward the end, but I stuck it in early.

There was a TV in the place, and it got satellite reception unless the BEMs were piping in a direct feed. This wasn’t done until the end. Then this one BEM beamed [he was smiling] out from our television set and had a conversation with me. Mom was relaxing in the tub and missed the original Q & A, but they provided a replay for her, before they sent us back. Not that we had actually left earth, we were still on the planet, but not in their ship it turned out.

It was the morning after mom and I had fucked for the first time. She decided she wanted some time alone to think about what had just happened. She ordered a bottle of wine and munchies from ‘room-service’ and drew a tub to soak in. Privacy, as much as there could be without a door on the privy, so to speak, was minimal so I was out of the sight-line of the lavatory, as had become our custom. The TV came to life on its own, the head-shot of a plain looking guy appeared. This was new. I yelled, “Mom! We have contact with ‘them’, a man just appeared on the TV!”

“Tell the bastards I want out of here please, I ain’t getting out of the tub at this late date, for no son-of-a-bitch alien!” Mom could be feisty. I didn’t blame her for being pissed. But since I had just gotten to make love to her and had just smoked some pot I was in a little more mellow mood.

The human-looking BEM spoke first. “Danny, congratulations, you have accomplished your goal! Tell your mother that you both will be set free shortly.”

I did. A string of scatological language, enough to scald the ears off the toughest ET, if they have hearing appendages, emitted from the tiled walls where mom was.

“Have you been observing us?” I asked.

“Yes, that is a logical conclusion. We have watched your actions with great interest and scrutiny, recording everything scrupulously.”

“Then you have been watching us screw, in the last few hours.” It wasn’t a question.

“Certainly, that actually was the idea.”

“Did you realize that we are mother and son, that we have committed incest, which is a taboo – you’re familiar with that word?”

“Oh yes we did come to understand your relationship. That made our vigil even more intriguing!”

“Why? I mean why us, and why watch us having sex, and why should you care if it was incest?”

“Ah. I will explain. It is first a set of scientific experiments that we are running with pairs of humans. Not unlike putting a culture in a petri-dish, but in this case with just two specimens. Or like when humans try to breed animals to produce new strains, or preserve a species, like some zoos do.”

“But here you are inbreeding, though I doubt that mom’s pregnant.”

“Our motives are of course different. And she is with child, but that is not a concern, it won’t come to full term.”

“I just got done making love to her!”

“Nonetheless, with our advanced science, we can tell.”

“Superior science, eh?

“Science is not superior, it is the same if it is a true study of knowledge and understanding of physics. But just because one might know more chemistry or biology doesn’t negate the real facts that earlier technology discovers. The electron microscope doesn’t see different things than an older optical instrument, just sees it better. We have more advanced applications of engineering, but not superior science.”

“What are, or were your motives for abducting us and holding us for nearly two weeks?”

Partly it was like a documentary, sort of a reality show for entertainment.”

“Entertainment?” Their gall flabbergasted me.

“Think of it like an art form, like watching a free-form ballet performed.”

“We had sex, that’s what you wanted right? That’s why our clothes were taken away. Why there was some kind of aphrodisiac in the food; the generous supply of drinks or even providing marijuana. All that was to get us to fuck, right?”

“Think of it like watch human sports, a boxing match, or wrestling. But also it was a sport like dog fights, or cock fights. But in this case, instead of a competition of bodies and a form of combat; it was a contention of wills and striving to mating. More like the horse races, or roach races are even more apropos.”

“Roach races?”

“Where you put two cockroaches in the middle of the circle, and see which is the first to cross the circumference? They use it in New Jersey to predict the gubernatorial outcome. The insects are right seventy-five percent of the time. And of course, we bet on the results.”

“You bet? What, on whether I would make it with my mother?”

From the tub, mom yelled out, “Ask when we can leave?”

“Tell your mom you both will be released in about twenty-four hours.”

“In about a day mom! So says; What was your name, you weren’t polite enough to introduce yourself.”

“You can call me, Bemet.”

“Bennett! I called to mom the thing’s name. You don’t look like an alien.”

“Bemet, B E M E T. What you see is an animation for your benefit, produced by sophisticated software, as is the translation and trans-vocalization of my words. My real image would scare the shit out of you. The earth culture had a word for us. BEMs”

“Bug Eyed Monsters.”

And also Extra Terrestrials too, so B E M – E T, Bemet. If I were to appear to you it would give you nightmares for years. My real voice would be terrible to hear, like a cross of fingernails on a blackboard and flatulence, but so loud that it would break your eardrums. So we . . uh, tone it down, if you will. That way we can communicate with you. I am what you might think of as your handler.”

“So we were a dog and pony show, for your amusement?”

“I saw the dog position, which one was the pony?”

“You damn BEMs bet on us? What, how many times that we would do it, how many positions, how long we went at it? What?”

“How long it took you to finally have copulation. The other factors were used as what you would call side bets.”

“Mom is pregnant?”

“We will remove the gamete before releasing you both.”

“Then what, you breed a race of slaves to serve alien masters, or do you raise us for food?”

“YUK! You humans taste awful. We do make copies of the gamete, clones, and encase them in plastic. They sell as souvenirs. This whole thing of observing humans having sex is a craze in our civilization. It’s like the Superbowl, Kentucky Derby, and moon landings all rolled in to one. Everybody who can, watches live, or sees the recording. It’s Galactic-ly popular! ”

“Souvenirs, That’s inhuman!”

“Precisely! But then that’s what we are. Do you not have baby chicks at Easter? And you humans eat the meat of the adults. How is what we do so different from throwing away biological waste from abortion clinics or disposing of the millions of strays cats and dogs euthanized at municipal pounds? ‘Let he who is without pride of specie’s superiority, hurtle the first asteroid.’ So our great philosopher, # @ ~ & & % )-( + # * = <> , [which is as good an approximation to the name he screeched/farted out] has said.”

“So where are we? In the mother-ship?”

“No, you are on your own planet, in a secret facility.”

“Somewhere, in the desert, or under a mountain?”

“Nah! We rent this big warehouse in Jersey city. We call it ‘Arena 75’, in-joke, alien humor. Much easier to hide in plain sight.”

“How do you knock us out?”

“We have a ray that is focused on a certain part of your brain. Like when the doctor shines a light in your eyes, they dilate? It’s a reflex. Well, humans have a part of their gray matter, actually that piece is white matter, that when you focus the right sound waves; they’re different than ultrasound, but it’s still subsonic to you; it does the trick. Like rubbing an alligator’s tummy puts it into a trance.”

“How do you BEMs know so much?”

“When we first arrived we stoled television sets.”

“How long have you been here?”

“On earth? Since }}{}{{ or 1960 your reckoning.”

“So the UFO reports were right after all!”

“Oh, we have cloaking devices, we don’t know who the Blat those other mothershits are.”

“Mother-ships?”

“Mother-shits, like motherfuckers in your language, but much worse.”

“You’re talking to a mother-fucker you know!”

“TELL THEM THEY HAVE GREAT WINE!” Mom yelled from her wet haven. It sounded like she was mellowed out now too, the liquor and grass were some how made extra potent.

“What do you put in the food and drink, that made us so horny, and . . uh, inebriated?”

“Trade secret. Wouldn’t want the whole of humans to be mellow-heads, Prime Directive and all of that!”

“That’s Star Trek!”

“We adopted it in modified form, not a bad idea. Like sex, what a crazy way of propagation! We are trying to see if we might develop sex for our species,. Presently we have parthenogeneses. No fun at all. That’s why we like to watch you guys, guys and gals that is. Guys and guys, or gays as you call them, are alright but they don’t provide souvenirs. Same with the flip side of a double-header coin, or two tails, except that monkeys are the ones with tails. I’m sorry, some things get added with translation.”

“Why don’t you just watch porno tapes, if human sex is so interesting. That way you wouldn’t have to hold anybody captive. Like us, ‘CAUSE IT REALLY WAS INCONVENIENT; HEAR ME​? MOTHERSHIT!”

“We have quite sensitive microphones, and your tone of irritation would be noted by our instrumentation as well, so there is no need to shout. I understand that you were put-out by being shut-in. But we need to use live subjects, volunteers are never the same sort of fun. Even if you watch a tape of a ball game, if you already know the score, it’s not as exciting, is it. In this case, the balling might be of a different sort, but the outcome is unpredictable. That way we may enjoy our gambling on your gamboling, to make an attempt at human humor.”

“We are not amused.” I quoted, sarcastically, “Just let us go. PLEASE!”

“OH! You’ll be back on your trip. You’ll meet your father in L.A. as scheduled. Sorry about missing the other places, but I’m sure the gold nuggets you’ll find will pay for another trip.”

“Gold?”

“We’ll give you the GPS coordinates, you get them as, well, souvenirs.”

“Better than a little sibling who’s an off-spring also!”

“We would never let that happen! What kind of beings do you think we are? Alpha-Centurions?”

With that the transmission ended, just as my mother came out from her bath and went over to the kitchenette. “I’m still hungry, want anything from ‘room-service’, Sweetheart?”

“Yeah, mom. But what if it makes me horny like it has before?”

Mom beamed at me and tilted her head, with a gleam in her eye. She said, Well . . .” We said it together, “WHAAT THUH FUUCK!”

Continuing the narrative from when we revived the second time, finding ourselves in what would be our ‘cell/petri-dish/sexual race track’ for the next ten days or so.

We explored our new surroundings. No clothes, drawers for clothes, but none in them. In the kitchenette here was a little white box that looked like a microwave, but it didn’t have any controls on it, just a handle. A small refrigerator, but nothing in it. The bathroom had the standard stuff, but instead of towels there was a warm air dryer thing you stood under. The temperature was fine for being naked, but we sort of didn’t look at one another. Except of course I did, since I have had the hots for my mother for a while. But I had to sneak peeks. Eventually, my mom said, “I could use a drink!” The fridge pinged thirty seconds later and there was a chilled bottle of a white wine in it.

I figured, ‘whaat thuh fuuck!’ and said, “If I only had a joint!” The microwave box thing dinged a minute later and a doobie and disposable lighter appeared. There were glasses, dishes, and an ashtray in the cabinets already, stainless-steel eating utensils in a drawer. Nothing fancy, standard stuff, but was somebody reading our minds, or listening in? I thought, ‘beer’ looked in the fridge. Nope, none. “Beer!” ‘Ping!’ Yup! So they were listening! Mom looked at me with the joint and just shrugged her shoulders. She poured herself a glass of the chilled wine, I lit up. I popped the top of the beer, and took a swallow, then let out the toke.

“Well, if you get busted, then we get busted out of here!” Mom philosophized.

“Where did the stuff come from? The beer is cold, the wine chilled, but they weren’t in there a moment ago.”

“I guess it’s alien ‘room-service’, order some steaks and caviar! She laughed, slightly hysterical at the absurdity of our predicament. Hardly a minute went by, when ‘ping’ . . . ‘ding’ the fridge and the white box nearly went off simultaneously. There was caviar in the chiller, and hot juicy steaks, Porterhouse, in the white box. So we served ourselves and ate. It had been who knows how long since our last meal, I found myself hungry, but only the meat appealed. Mom ate some of the salty fish-eggs on crackers that were on the platter. We put the left overs in the fridge. The steak leftovers disappeared, but the caviar remained.

Now I was feeling full. So after using the facilities, I lay down. Mom explored a little bit then she lay next to me. Suddenly she was crying and turned to me. I held her as she wept. I understood, the whole thing was traumatic. I did enjoy the feel of her naked body against mine, even though I was not about to take advantage of her in her vulnerable state. In fact, I was determined to be the noble son and manly hero as much as I could. Unfortunately, my manhood had ideas of its own about being up-standing. But I tried to not nudge mom with my erection. Eventually we both fell asleep in each others arms.

Life in the alien cage was boring. We watched TV, but had to agree on programs, since there was only one. We played cards, but after several days that too was dull. We didn’t get books. There was fine food and booze and pot to smoke from the machines. Fresh sheets were supplied in the drawers, the old ones disappeared if stuffed in them. The air temperature and humidity remained constant, comfortable considering we were a nudist colony of two. After a while, it too became routine; though we went around the corner, out of sight-lines when the other wanted to use the john. But eventually, mom didn’t care if I watched her shower, since nudity was our common condition.

The third night though, I got horny after having our dinner, which was just burgers and beer and ice cream. We had discussed our situation, early on, the second day. Though we had no clock, the biological urge to sleep was night, the waking period day. We agreed on our observations from when we had been abducted, by the – flying saucer? And held captive by – aliens? Who else had the technology? It was our best working hypothesis. We lay down to watch some doctor program mom loved and as I lay there, I got the urge. Hormones didn’t stop, just because the aliens put you up in the Martian Motel 6, or the only female was your mother. On the contrary, being constantly around her and sleeping with her, the close naked contact was exacerbating my incestuous desires.

So I waited that evening until I thought she was asleep, and started to masturbate. But she wasn’t.

“Why don’t you go and do that in the bathroom, Honey.”

“Would you mind if I used the couch instead, it’s not like we have a lot of privacy anyway.”

“Oh never mind, just get it over with and go to sleep.”

I did, but the thought of my mom listening to me gave it an extra pinch of spice. I came quickly. Then began to doze off. But I became aware of a little motion in the mattress. I held very still and listened. There were faint murmurs and whimpers from mom’s side of the bed and little wiggles she was making as she lay on her stomach. We only had a sheet on and almost no light in the place, but I could make out she was making subtle motions underneath the covers. She was masturbating too! Was it that she got turned on by my activity, or were her own natural cycles in play? When she finished, I still pretended to be asleep, and then I was.

The next morning was fine, until after breakfast. That’s when I developed my morning wood. Normally it would have been just before getting up, but this was after the meal. Mother said she was going to take a bath. She had taken one yesterday, I just put it down to boredom. I began to play a game of solitaire. If I had been watching the tube, I might have missed the clues of her real reason for her soak. She was masturbating again! Those same soft sounds, the little waves slapping on the tubs sides, rhythmically. This got me horny, but before I could do anything about it, I heard the ‘blow-all-dry’ go on and didn’t have time to get my jollies done.

After lunch I noticed I was once more getting a stiffy, and mom seem to not to be able to sit in one position for long. Then the need to ‘scratch’ that personal itch passed. But it returned after dinner. This time I was the one in the tub. Mom was watching TV. But I heard her give a little squeak after a while. I called and asked is she was okay, but she claimed she was laughing. Her ha-ha shriek was a different sort of tone and pitch than the gasping squawk she had made. I guessed that she had had her own time of pleasuring while alone in the other room, just I was in the tub.

That night, there wasn’t much on the TV we felt like watching. Cards were available, but we started talking, swapping stories. Soon we were sharing about our sexual history. We just stumbled on the subject from some other topic, I forget what, but mom told me about losing her virginity the first year out of High School. I had lost mine a year before. She was in a car, I was down in a gal’s basement. I shared some of mom’s wine, but I was more intoxicated by the intimacy of our openness with each other on an adult level. The alcohol made me peckish, so I ordered some cheese and crackers.

‘Room-service’ had cheddar and Ritz. We wondered about how the delivery system was so prompt. We didn’t always get the ideal of what we asked for, but the delays were seldom and the quality always good. Then we decided to retire and try to sleep. Even though I had masturbated once that day, and not gotten a buzz on, as we lay down the ‘dick-at-night’ programing was up again. We settled under the linen, but I made a tent, unintentionally. Mom looked at it, but said nothing. However, she had two little bumps topping the big tops of her chest. I looked at them, which made my lodge pole all the more firm.

We still had a lamp lit on the end table by me. I sighed and said I would turn the light off and go the the couch for a while. Mom put a hand out and said in a soft voice, “Wait.” She then slowly drew down the cotton covering, and there we were, erectile tissue proud and tall, pointy and small, but clearly aroused one and all. “Do it here, let me watch.” Mom said in a voice with a faint quaver. I was surprised at her liberated request, but not nearly as much as when she herself began to touch between her legs and rummage around in her own genitals. In silence, like some surreal scene, we masturbated together, viewing one another as we frigged ourselves.

I ran my hand lightly up and down my rod and she flicked a finger over her clit. She broke the quiet with that gasping sound, and then our moans and groans began to gain volume as we lost any shyness. We turned to face each other and make it easier to study the other’s technique and rosy flesh that was being stimulated. The rhythm of our meat-beating began to syncopate and then switched eventually to gain harmonics, as it morphed into a common meter; our stroking reaching a simultaneous timing as our hips humped toward our bed partner’s body. It was obvious that we were mutually turned on by seeing the other one aroused and rising to a climax.

Mother pulled my trigger by deliberately spreading her thighs and letting me see her ruby labia, puffed and coated with her oil. The thought of her showing me her most secret place to help me get off, got me off. I came with a spurt that nearly flew the distance between us with the first glob, a big white squirt of goo that was aimed at her belly. This set off her own orgasm, her pelvis jerked several times and her eyes rolled back before the lids clamped shut and a grimace scrunched up her face in a powerful cum. Immediately afterwards, her look was that of, ‘Oh God! What did I just do?’ and she put a hand up to cover her mouth. Then she turned her back to me, not knowing what to say.

I scooted over to spoon with her, and provide reassurance that all was okay. Not worrying that my cock still was seeping semen, as it squished against her butt, I stroked her hair and whispered, “Thanks mom, that was special, that was nice. Don’t be upset, we are only human, and I love you. It’s alright. Let’s go to sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning about the whole thing.” Mom didn’t say a thing, but her breathing calmed down. Soon she was asleep. I thought about the terrificly erotic experience that had just happened, then drifted off myself.

In the morning mom acted like nothing had happened, and never spoke of the previous night. She played solitaire while I channel-surfed. I got horny after both breakfast and lunch for a while, but I was so sensitive to mom’s moodiness I suppressed those tinglings. I tried to keep my mind on the problem of our predicament, what it was that the aliens wanted of us and how we might escape. But my thinking was just going around in circles. Indeed, I tend to circled the perimeter checking things and making rapping on the walls and trying to pry the furniture loose from the walls. To find a weak spot, all that for the umpteenth time. Mom hardly seemed to notice, she was preoccupied with her own thoughts.

Finally, after a nice dinner of spaghetti and garlic bread and a good chianti, I was getting horny yet again and definitely tipsy. I said, out loud, “Whaat thuh Fuuck!” and ordered a couple of joints. ‘Ding’, quickly the white box sounded.

But then, mom said, “Whaat thuh Fuuck!” too and joined me on the couch, where I was lighting up. She reached for the rolled grass that was smoldering, put it to her lips and sucked in a big toke. Shit! Mom smoked shit? I had no idea, you could have knocked me over with a feather. We passed the pot back and forth until the roach was just a half inch stub. The dope was very good weed and while I was not a novice, mom was clearly getting a great buzz too. She grinned at me and said, “Oohh! You don’t think that your parents never ever got stoned? I bet you think that . . . never mind . . . but I was a kid before I was a responsible adult, and I haven’t forgotten what those times were like.

“Think what? Mom? Finish your thought. Sure I realize you were young once. What were you going to say?”

To my surprise, she burst into tears, for a few seconds. Then getting her equilibrium back she said, “Whaat thuh Fuuck!” and lit the second doobie, took two huge hits off of it before passing it to me. As I took my toke off of that next joint, she looked at me, as she blew out a big puff of pungent smoke and said, with a sarcastic laugh, “That I never cheated on your father. But it was just once and nobody you know. But it was like what happened last night. It was strange circumstances and just one of those human things and happened along time ago. And NO! I’m not going to tell you about it.” She added, “Don’t bogart that joint” snatched it back and sucked another long hit, then passed it back.

I was flabbergasted, this was a side of mom that was . . was alien to me, like she was from another planet. As if BEMs took over her brain, like an old 1950s Science Fiction film. But then last night was strange too, Twilight Zone odd. Any moment Rod Serling’s voice would overdub and say, “A journey not of sight or sound but of mind; June and Daniel DeLayne have just entered the place between normality and being freaked out, they’re having a vacation in the Twat-lite Zone.” My ‘man from Mars’ was raising the antenna at the middle, straight out from my loins, thinking about the ‘mom from Venus’, who had watched me play with my penis last night, and just confessed that she had once had a sinful Saturnalia with someone other than my dad. Jumpin’ Jupiter! Things were getting quite hot, the Mercury was rising in my ther-Mommy-ter.

Mother looked at my proud prick and her nipples were definitely naughty nips too. I saw a damp spot where she sat with her legs crossed upon the cushions. “Want-ta know another secret?” she said with a giggle of stoned giddiness. I nodded, too amazed at the wild woman next to me. “Last night . . . (she reached for the roach and I passed the last inch to her, she toked up and said holding the smoke in) . . I really liked it, us jacking-off together.” Out came the blue fumes, and she tapped me on the dick and said, “TAG! You’re IT!” then she ran over to the other side of the bed. I followed close behind but she walked over the mattress to the other side and ran to the kitchenette. I chased her and she when around the easy chair then bounces along the sofa as I pursued my manic mother.

I stuck to the floor and caught her coming off the furniture and swiped at her, catching her on her right tit, a glancing blow but I felt the nipple scrape my fingers, a turgid button. She yelped. Then it was my turn to scurry, she cornered me in the bathroom, slapped my ass and then she was off toward the bed. I grabbed her ankle as she climbed up and she toppled onto the pad laughing. I dropped next to her. We were laying across the width of the bed. I was crazy with the insane shenanigans that we were in the midst of and without thinking about who I was doing it to, reached between her legs, touched her mons, and whispered “Tag, you’re it . .” Then I kissed her.

She kissed back. She even began to French me. When she suddenly broke off the kiss, I was afraid she had come to her senses, but instead she took my hand and murmured, “Tag my tit.” I did. I felt her up with both hands as her fingers felt their way down to my fiddle stick and fluted and fluttered and finagled with the firm muscle. I used my other hand to explore her nether regions. She was sure as shooting wet and my fingers caressed the slit and then found her pleasure nub and rubbed the pearl with tender motions. Back to her soft center and this time two fingers wormed into the honey pot and wiggled. She gripped my manhood lightly and worked it.

I was getting close as I caught her rhythm and reproduced it with my fingers sawing in and out and my thumb on her clit. Once more we matched one another stroke for stroke. Our lips sought each other’s, the tongues tangled and we both knew where this folly was headed. But we were fools rushing to get into the sweet madness that had encompassed us, and was taking us on a ride to a joyful peak. The whirling of sexual excitement didn’t stop with the first climax, though I gave a healthy cream in her hand, and she gushed on mine, I was able to keep her roller-coaster ride going for long minutes after my own zoom had landed back down. Finally her energy just seemed to deflate, like a balloon that had flown jetting around, until it was empty.

In the aftermath, she clung to me and I hugged her and kissed her face, eyelids which had closed, smiling lips, cute nose, flushed cheeks and even her chin. She gave little chuckles now and then, that had nothing to do with my smooches, but were more like private little amusing thoughts she was having. Mother’s last words as we managed to orientate our bodies to the alignment of the bed and drag the sheet over our exhausted bodies was, “It’s been years . .” I barely had time to register those cryptic words before conking out myself.

We must have slept late, though no clocks were in the place, the hunger and over-due bladder urges woke me and I trotted to use the facilities. The sound of my urinating in the middle of the bowl, still a bit too buzzy to do anything but aim for the center of the target, woke mom, who came in and sat as soon as I was done. She didn’t even wait for me to leave. I climbed into the shower, not bothering with the clear plastic curtain and began to shampoo my hair. I was thus blinded when I was surprised and delighted that she joined me. We had the fun of rubba-dubbing each other clean, but while it was certainly sensual, it did not turn into foreplay.

Brunch was anything we wanted and even then we had lots of leftovers. These we casually dumped in the ‘dispose-all’; so titled because anything placed in the lidded trash can was zapped away, even faster than the ‘microwave/white-box/whatchamacallit’ thing or the magic fridge produced them. It took everything but the sheets. I tried putting a pillowslip down there I had used to wipe up a spill, but the lid wouldn’t open. The drawer however made it disappear. I concluded from that evidence, that the aliens were watching us, as well as listening. I figured that they were, but this seemed to be proof. I wondered how they enjoyed last night’s naughty games.

During the meal there was little conversation, just small talk about the food or what was on TV for that evening. Nothing spoken about the rowdy romp and raunchy mutual masturbation which we had indulged our cannabis besotted brains. As we were settling down after the big meal and clean up, mom got out the cards and suggested some gin rummy. But then, as we sat at the table. She got a funny look on her face. “Stand up!” she commanded. I didn’t understand, but was reluctant to do so, since I once more sported a sprouting stalk at my pelvis. “Please, Daniel, would you STAND UP!” When she uses that particular tone, mother is ‘she who must be obeyed’.

I did. Her face showed fury. “GOD DAMN IT!!” I started to stutter, saying that ‘I could not help it, that it was unintentional and I didn’t mean to offend her or suggest . . .’, but she hardly heard a word I was saying, then when she realized I was blabbering, she waive her hand in a gesture that dismissed what I had been trying to explain, at the same time, her look got frustrated and she closed her eyes and muttered, “Whaat thuh Fuuck! – They are putting it into our food! God damn fucking bastards!” That confused me. But then she looked me in the eyes and stood also. She pointed to her pussy and explained, “The aliens . . I’m not angry with you, you can’t help it. I’m horny again too! . . the aliens are putting something in our food . . some kind of . . aphrodisiac . . that makes us horny, give us the itch in our groins.

“I think it’s been happening ever since . . the third day here in this . . room . . or cell, might as well call it what it is, a cage. This is . . .” she mentally counted, but I knew already.

“This is the fifth day.”

“God! It seems longer. But don’t you see, what we . . what is happening is not us, it’s the chemicals they add to the meal; colorless, odorless, but odious nonetheless; insidious sinfulness inserted into our systems inside the very sausages we ate and juice we sipped for breakfast!”

“Oh . . And I thought it was just ’cause I had incestuous yearning for my hot mother, to get her to let my sausage into her juicy sex!”

Mom stared at me, then she burst out laughing. But she stopped short and looked at me again. “There’s truth to that isn’t there. You have had a thing for me, even before we got here. Were you planning to seduce me in the motel room while we were on our vacation?”

“No, but that’s a thought, now that you mentioned it. If we ever get back to earth, and we resume our journey, would you like to continue our fun and games? Seriously, mom I have had a hankering for you, but I respect you and never would try any kind of shit like that. Nor would I want to hurt dad. It’s just that this whole abduction had been so crazy and we are nude together 24/7. It’s almost like the aliens want us to . .”

“They do, of course they do! It’s obvious now. That’s why they put the – whatever it is in the food, to make us horny to get us to . . well they aren’t going to get away with it! They don’t realize that we are mother and son, that we can’t . . shouldn’t, wouldn’t, ought not be doing those . . like we did last night.” I nodded like I was agreeing, even though I didn’t want the fun and games to be over. “From now on we will be stronger that the aphrodisiac. We are humans and we can beat the aliens, just like Will Smith, when he punched that E. T. pilot, in ‘Independence Day’!”

So we played Gin Rummy, even though I was hard again and mom was runny. Eventually, the dose wore off and the day was our normal routine of remake the bed, watch some TV, talk about what the aliens were trying to do with us, why us, how could we escape, did dad realize that we were missing? Would people believe our story? Etc.. What to watch on TV that night? What to have for dinner? ‘Aye! There was the rub, for in those vittles what creams may cum?’ to paraphrase the Bard. We had to eat, but in the food would be the stimulants of erotic erections and titillation for tits and twat. We must be stronger than temptation. We, well she, was resolved that we should do so.

However, while we were in the middle of viewing a mildly interesting game-show pre-prime-time, I asked her, “Mom, what did you mean when you said last night, just before you fell asleep, ‘it’s been years’?”

Mother looked pensive. Then she looked me in the eye. “I won’t lie to you. It’s been years since I had that much fun with anyone, including your father. It wasn’t just the smoking dope, though it’s been years I indulged that pleasure as well. But I mean that the sheer uninhibited frolic, we let go and just had fun. I used to really crave that kind of excitement once in a while, and I miss it now that I’m older and . . more responsible. I guess since we are stuck here and don’t have the usual sorts of restrictions on our behavior I allowed myself to indulge in that sort of insanity. It was fun. Too bad it has to end.”

“Does it? While we are here, can’t we be a little wild once in a while?”

“I think they even spike the booze, it somehow makes me woozier. But we cant just act like animals with no morals. Honey, if we did that the aliens would win. They want us to be wanton.”

“Okay.” SHIT! I wouldn’t mind letting then have a few points if it meant getting into my mom’s pants. Not that she had any. Into her pussy, that would mean the human-male scored! I tried to scheme while TV was on, but came up short on practical ideas. Though my imagination of scenarios where I did manage to return to whence I came, so that I might cum there the first time, kept me long with longing without a aphrodisiac-laced snack that evening. Thus as it was, my hormones were naturally pumped up when we retired. I lay next to mom, but she gave no indication that any further indiscretions would be welcome.

I don’t know why it occurred to me then, except back home I always had a bottle of Astrolube in the drawer next to my bed; that and a big box of tissues. The wastepaper-basket got full often. (Can you imagine, my dad had to use petroleum-jelly; messy!) But have you ever jacked-off (guys I mean) so much without some kind of lubricant that you got a sore spot? Spit sucks for the most part, unless you sucked on a piece of candy. But I was out of luck. Well I suppose I could have tried to order it from ‘room-service’. But then, I wouldn’t need to ‘go to the well’ that I had right next to me in the same bed, would I? ‘Nothing ventured . . . etc.!’

“Mom, I’ve got a little problem – big problem.”

“What, Sweetie?”

“I’m not asking to fool around, but I’m horny and I usually masturbate to get to sleep, when we are home. But I don’t have anything to . . slick my willie, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m not going down on you, if that’s what your driving at.”

“No! I just thought that perhaps if you might be able to loan me some of your natural juices.”

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Awh . . forget it, I’ll go over to the couch and jerk-off there, if I get a sore, I suppose the aliens provide first aid.” I sounded my best hurt/petulant/pouty tone, which mother had a difficult time to ignore. She usually gave in when I grumbled that way, if it was a minor issue which she wasn’t firm on. It was a weakness which I played upon, though not too often, so as not to use up brownie points. I started to get out of bed.

“Wait!” Mom grabbed my arm and pulled me back. In the near dark I saw her put her hand to her crotch and in a moment she was smearing my cock with her sex oil. It occurred to me that there was already a flow, even before I had asked. If she could dip into the swamp and draw out her lube so immediately, I could deduce what that was indicative of! Interesting! Just the place I wanted to be in-dick-ative of! She gave me one more application. “Is that enough?”

“I think so, I’ll try to be quick.”

“You do that.”

But of course I used it up before I was at the tipping point. “Can I have a little more?”

She sighed, “Here,” mom repeated her application of her lubrication. “Would it help you get there faster if I did it for you?”

Now that was progress! “Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind. I wasn’t intending that you should have to do that, but sure it would feel better than doing it on my own.” So she began to stroke my boner and returning to the well every once in a while. “That’s so nice mom, I’ll come soon. Do you need help keeping stimulated to provide enough for making me slick?”

She grunted a throaty, “Uh-huh”, so I began to diddle in her genitals. This was going nicely! Glad I thought of it. I detected her pelvis making forward movements, I was beginning to move my hips too. We were now sort of turned toward each other and we got closer for better leverage. Our hands were not in sync, but my fingers played in her soft flesh and the middle digit dipped every now and then in her hole. She worked long strokes, then made a swirling around the swollen head of my dick. Her technique was clearly experienced and was really getting to me.

I pictured us in the act of making love, my penis plunging and plugging in her womanhood. The image tipped the balance and I shot into her hand as it caressed the knob just then. That set her off as well, and I felt her jerky movements and the flow of a liberal amount of her own discharge. “Don’t expect this every night, young man.” She said sternly. But no anger was there, it was a standard line, to indicate that she had no intention of spoiling me. She used it at home often enough, and usually contrary to the words, I got the privilege again as long as I didn’t abuse her good will. So, I kept the thought to myself, but wondered what the next few days would bring of this new aspect of our relationship, in these very odd circumstances.

We rolled away and went to sleep after that session, but we woke spooning. Mom loved to cuddle and I had cozied up to her in the night, without any objections. We stayed in bed like that, both aware that we were each awake but enjoying the closeness and being lazy. What else was there to do? It’s not like we were going anywhere. Unless we were on the mother-ship, and traveling in hyper-drive at light-years per second, due to arrive at a distant star eventually. But there was still no sense of that. In fact, the gravity was normal, and I suspected we were at a secret base of alien operations still on Earth. Or as the BEMs call it, Dirt. Looses something in translation.

We had eggs and bacon and French toast for breakfast with milk and OJ, and the standard dose of whatever the sex additive was. It was annoying, but we were getting used to the condition. We tried to remember how to play two handed bridge and which eventually evolved to become our own version of a bastardized bridge/rummy, perhaps a cross-breed? Maybe there was an undertone of sex to our gaming (notice the language of the last sentence?) because Jack trumped a Queen if you could play an eight (ate) on her, Queens needed an Ace (ass) however to win a hand, and game was 69. Well the rules were silly, but we were bored and horny.

Lunch, I forgot what we ate, maybe peanut butter and jelly. There was a movie on in the evening, we ordered popcorn and lots of beer. Then a couple of joints, since we were on a ‘don’t give a shit what the aliens want, we are on vacation!’ roll. The mood turned ugly toward the BEMs and we got into a screaming fit, yelling out every insult and creative put down we could shout at them. Nothing happened save we got hoarse, and at last plopped down on the couch. Then we kissed because we had a mutual admiration for the other’s power bursts of energy in hating our captors. We kissed some more because it was nice to have another human next to you. We kissed some more because kissing is fun.

Then we kissed some more because we were getting into it, and we began to make out, like two teenagers. Convenient that we had no buttons or zippers to deal with, birthdays suits had buttons but they were for fun things to do. I played with mom’s and she worked my joystick. Palms caressed buttocks and chest pressed to breast, and octupi had nothing on us as our appendages roamed all over one another. We slid to the floor and entangled our legs and rubbed our genitalia together, like we were trying to start a fire, though rug burn was the only thing that was created. So then we clambered on to the mattress to continue our dalliance.

I found my fingers up mom’s vagina, waving back and forth, front to back and groping for her G-spot too. Meanwhile, she had a finger poking two knuckles deep in my asshole. That was a new one for me, but everything was a turn-on at that point. She then got me to lay on my back and skittered down to show her talents at fellatio. She was in her element as she plied my pike. The way her lips sucked, the swirl of her tongue; I never felt her teeth, except when she deep throated me once and gagged, but after that she got the hang of my hard-on and gave really fine head. I was soon shooting in her mouth – she even swallowed!

I wanted to reciprocate, but we were both wiped out and she promised I could save it for the next day. In the morning, we woke and decided to have breakfast in bed, we served each other. There were fresh strawberries and warm danish, coffee and pineapple juice and ham. Mother said she wanted to have a bath. I asked her if she was going to . . . pleasure herself, since the meal was laced as always. She said she felt the need to bathe, but I was welcome to join her like when I had been little, only now it would be more crowded. But the idea was not for messing around, just water fun, not otherwise. I said I would take a rain-check. She replied, it was a bath not a shower, so I would have to take out flood insurance. I came back with perhaps we could pool our resources. Sure, said mom, dive in, and get into the swim of things.

So I ordered aquavit. It was like when I was very small and the next door girl and I would play in the tub, while our mothers gabbed together. Only it was me talking to my mom, but we played, and reminisced about the beach and neighborhood Fourth of July pool parties and swapped skinny-dipping bragging rights. Mom said she love to go skinny-dipping, that if we had a pool at home she would do it late at night when I was asleep. I assured her if she did, I would stay awake and look out the window to catch a glimpse of her in the altogether. “Well?” she asked her arms spread, indicating that I got my wish, in abundance.

“Mom, you truly are gorgeous and I adore your body.”

“Fine, you can worship at the shrine of Saint June tonight, just make sure your prayers at the sacred shine of her divine juncture isn’t just lip-service. She wants you to speak in tongues too.”

YES! Promises were made and will be kept! I was a happy camper. Eating that stuff would definitely get me erect and it would be all natural, no additives! I wondered if my sainted mom might saddle a sinner in her center, if my adoration was adequate? Would the oracle of my loving, allow me into her holy grotto? Theology is so difficult to understand, maybe if I stroked her temples too. Whatever it took.

By the time our water sporting was over we were two pink raisins. Being under the ‘blow-dry-all’ together was an interesting experience. We rubbed each other all over in the warm blast, kind of a standing massage. Then we tried to figure out something creative to do with the cards. We eventually propped open the ‘dispose-all’ and tried to toss them in, going further back as we challenged our opponent. Mom won by two points. I don’t know why they couldn’t provide us with Scrabble or even backgammon, they were good with food, but entertainment was the pits. Was it mother’s pit and my poker that was suppose to be the fun? And who’s amusement anyway? Did they get off by watching us dabble in incest? Not saying I didn’t enjoy it mind you, and mom somewhat as well, was happy when we canoodled.

Mom was quiet that evening. I could see that she was sort of nervous. She only had a couple of glasses of wine, enough to relax her, but not letting it go to her head. I guess it was because she knew I was positively going to give her head, that night. Cunnilingus here I come, and here cums mom. I was positive that she would climax. I was a dedicated muff-diver. She wouldn’t even take a toke from the one ‘J’ I smoked that evening. I was like a race horse at the starting gate, couldn’t wait for the bell to ring. I was eager to provide stud service too, if allowed.

Eventually, the programs we watched were over. If things were in sync with outside, this was Sunday, our eighth day in alien incarceration. Thus the episodes we were watching were not taped, that is to say, re-taped and played over closed-circuit. That would take a hell of a TiVo to handle all those channels. Mom went into the lavatory to do her female ablutions. Or maybe just to get up her courage for letting her son go down on her. I lolled on the bed, already semi-hard. Finally she came, not exactly as a blushing bride, but with a demure grace and appealing shyness, considering what we already had shared. No dainty daisy, I – I dove into my mom’s womanhood like a starving man at a banquet.

I lapped at her labia first, just to open the gap and set the mood. Then some little licks at her clitoris to warm her up and get her liking the sensation and not worrying about the fact that man between her thighs was her own boy. Then kisses on the inner thighs and all around the whole area. Back to tonguing her with fast flicks in the groove moving up to the button and doing arabesques. A series of delving into the cavity as deep as my stretched oral digit could dig. Then repeating the entire routine, but in different order, including warm and cool air from my mouth on delicate parts. Every trick I knew, and some I invented on the spot. She started cumming after maybe five minutes of my administrations.

Mother’s orgasms were varied, she started with a nice size climax and then in a few minutes had a series of small multiples, then some hard spasms that lasted four to five seconds, with a short recovery time between them. Finally she had one huge clench, her back arched and she almost dislodged my mouth from her clit, but I held her hips and stuck the suck all the way through the paroxysm. Afterwards, she dragged me up to kiss my face and hug me in a powerful embrace, too breathless to talk, but obviously she had been satiated with my gentle torture. She fell asleep soon after, leaving me happy for her, but wishing that I had driven her to beg for my cock in her cunt. I’d settle for the IOU, and went to watch a late movie.

In the morning, our ninth day, I was woken by the sound of mom crying. She was sitting on the divan and had her hands in her face. I went to her and put my arm around her. “Do you think they will ever let us go?” she wailed in a tiny voice.

“Sure, mom, I’m not positive why we were chosen, but they haven’t harmed us. I know that the additive, whatever it is makes it hard, sorry, no pun intended; (this got a little smile from her) to control our . . unnatural urges. Well, I mean sex IS natural, but maybe they don’t understand about human taboos. Not that they don’t get broken often enough as it is, I mean look at . . all the things you read on the Internet about how odd people can be, and what weird stuff they do. No wonder aliens might be confused about earthing behavior.”

“Mom, I understand that you don’t want them to control us, that it’s har . . uh . . difficult not to give in, to allow them to have their way. But what if we did just what they wanted and then they let us go. Would it be so terrible to fuck me for our freedom? NO, I mean make love, because I love you and I would do anything to make you happy. Anything, rescue you from aliens with my ray-gun like Luke and Princess Leia, or Flash Gorden and what’s her face. But all I got is this friendly weapon, and I’d have to use it on you, if what we suspect is the goal of the BEMs. But if that’s what I have to do, I’ll sacrifice my virginity to get you out of here.”

“You’re not a virgin!” Mom smiled, because she knew I was using hyperbole.

“SSHH! Don’t let them hear you, it might spoil their fun when we do it!”

“We are not doing IT! And what the hell is a Bem?”

“B – E – M, that’s an old Sci-Fi acronym term for Bug-Eyed Monster. Like ‘little green men’, but shorter; though they are usually pictured as being larger than the more humanoid type of men-from-Mars aliens that were in ‘Close Encounters”.

“I’d like to have a close encounter with one of the perverted little E.T.s that want to watch us having sex!” Now mom had gotten angry, well that was a better mood than being depressed. However, it was not moving us toward our own ‘close encounter’, which had been my subtle strategy. Mom ranted on, “Just let me get my hands on one of those sonofabitch aliens, I’ll choke his scrawny neck so hard he will be both bug-eyed and crossed-eyed, until he turns from green to purple and his God damn eye-balls pop out. If they have balls of any other kind those I’ll rip off, so they won’t have anymore fun that way either!” Mom’s feisty nature was furious.

“Mom BEMs don’t have human reproductive organs, and it takes three of them to make an nestling, which is why they are so curious about a duo-procreation, when they are tri-sexual.”

Mom looked at me with a little confusion. “How do you know so much about them? What? Did you find the BEM porn channel on the TV?”

“No, that was from an Issac Asimov book I read from the library. I’m making it up. All I know really is that they do seem to want us to mate, and they are watching and listening. ‘Cause we are naked and well fed, given intoxicants when we ask for them, so they know about inhibitions. That can be extrapolated, as well as the interest in sex because of the aphrodisiacs. And I know that our having sex would be quite a nice thing, beyond the fact we are mother and son. Because I think you are sexy and I adore you. But I would never do anything knowingly that would upset you or make you feel bad. However if we did have sex, I know I would make you feel good.”

“OH! You would would you? So this isn’t a complicated scheme to get into your mother’s panties?”

“In fact it is. I traded the Pentagon’s plans to defend against alien attack for their help in seducing you. They said it was a deal, as long as they got to watch the action and I threw in Sigourney Weaver. We would have shook on it, but their tentacles are rather slimy.”

Mom laughed. I had been confident that I could get her to lighten up. She leaned into me and we kissed. Then we Frenched. I lay her down on the couch and just stroked her all over, without pausing at the erogenous zones, but not skipping them either. We kissed some more and Frenched every now and then. Before long, my hand was slowing down as it passed over a nipple or brushed her mons.

“You are trying to seduce me aren’t you?” mom murmured languidly as we lounged on the sofa.

“No, just trying to calm you and make you forget about our incarceration with a few casual carnal caresses.”

“How slimy are their appendages?”

For some reason, I just knew that was an opening for what I wanted to do. I could tell she was a little turned on by our contact, the tactile touching of the erotic areas. Her nipples were pointy and her thighs had parted slightly. I took a chance that she was offering the ‘opening’ I was hoping for and dipped my middle digit into the well of her vagina. It came out wet. I put it in again when she did not object. Then I pulled it out and rubbed my fingers together, testing the slickness, right in front of mom’s face.

“Well,” I said in a near whisper in moms ear, “If it was slippery like this, I wouldn’t have minded so much, but . .” I took her hand and put it on the knob of my erection which was leaking pre-cum, “it was more like what you came feel down there.”

“That’s not so bad.” mother played along.

I continued to push and pull my fingers in her soft lubricated tissues both deep and around the gash, including the clit. Getting her excited and ready if the moment came, that she would allow me access. “But their tentacles have suckers too.” I added.

“Suckers, like an octopus has?”

“No, more gentle, like this . .” I moved my mouth to her breast and sweetly engulf the pink center protruding from it. Then I spent a few more minutes on the other so neither side would be jealous.

“That’s not so bad. What if an alien wanted to have its way with me, would I like it?”

I put a finger in her pussy and wiggled it. “A tentacle up your quim? Is that what you’d want?”

“Maybe, it would just use a sucker on the outside.” I took the hint and moved so I could apply oral suckling on her nether regions. Mom spread her legs for my admission to her privates. I stuck my tongue in her gap as deep as I could. “OH! I’m getting eaten by an E. T.!” She giggled as my appendage wiggled in her womanhood. “But what I want isn’t a BEM, it’s a boy!” I moved up and lay upon her, my cock knocking at her cunt. I could feel the leaking oil mixed with my saliva as it coated the very tip of my dick, the labia began to part.

Mother froze. This was not a good sign, so I froze. “Please mom, I’m horny, because of you; not them, the BEM. I’m the boy you want. Your boy who loves you. Who wants to make love to you. I’m the human, the man who desires you. I don’t care if they are watching and listening, or recording or whatever.” I pushed the plum of my penis in an inch, it was prepared to slide right into the drenched chute of her snatch. She gasped but didn’t relax, her muscles still were tense, but she wasn’t pushing me out. Still, I thought that I might need to use subtle subterfuge to fulfill my filial lust finally. I withdrew to just kissing the labia with the piss-hole of my prick, then slowly re-submerged the knob within the warn wet depths.

“OH GOD!” Mom cried out, and with an obvious effort of will power over her own physical desires, pushed her hands against my hips and dislodged me. In fact, the shove was so forceful I fell back onto the floor, though I wasn’t hurt. Mom swiftly rose and made for the bathroom. She had her arm out straight and her palm pointing at me to indicate I was not to follow. Then I heard her weeping again in there, but this time I was not allowed to go comfort her. I wasn’t sure if she was crying because of what I had done, or if it was because she couldn’t bring herself to allow what I almost had done. In any case, I felt frustrated. I had almost made it into paradise, but not quite past the glistening gates to the heaven of her hole-ly haven.

Her tears soon were done. She came back into the main area, but sat on the easy chair. “Dale Ardent.” she said.

“What? I mean who is ‘Dale Ardent’?”

“Buck Roger’s girlfriend. I used to watch the episodes on early morning Saturdays, when I was a young girl.” She gave a little laugh, then explained her thoughts, “There was a X-rated satire of that movie series in the seventies, that your father and I went to see, called ‘Flesh Gorden’. I don’t remember much except there was this huge six foot penis. I recall thinking, well in this case size does matter! Then there was campy Barbarella, with her orgasmitron, that was more my style.”

“I think I saw that on late night TV once. Jane Fonda was hot, still is!”

Mom continued with her musing, “Come to think of it, that scan machines that we were put through, when we first came to. Before we were put in here, was not that dissimilar, but I didn’t feel sexy at all. Not until we ate the food. But I want to thank you, for reminding me that a man can make me feel sexier and arouse my desires, better that any alien could ever hope to with any additive or inebriate or even both. But speaking of which, lets have a drink.”

“Or a toke?”

“Yeah, I could use a good buzz, let’s order a couple of joints!” Soon enough, the box went ‘ping’ and we were in business! I could see mom get mellow, and after the first ‘J’ was passed back and forth, she joined me for the second joint on the davenport where I was seated. “I didn’t mean to give you blue-balls babe, but I just kind of got freaked-out for a moment. Not that I wanted to have sex . . . well, yeah I sort of did just then . . . but I was nearly seduced by my son! But then, for better or worse, I realized that we were about to cross the line, and I wasn’t ready for that, for incest – for fucking my son. No matter how hot and bothered I was, I couldn’t go that far, even though I knew how bad you wanted it. I’m not a cock-tease, but I AM your mother, no matter what. If we do get out of here, wherever here is, then we still have to live with the consequences. Understand?”

“Yes, I do, mom. But I hope we are on Vega, the brightest star in the sky.”

“Why Vega? So that dad can look up at night and see us millions of miles away?”

“No, because as they say in star-fleet academy, ‘What happens on Vega, stays on Vega’!”

That got a good laugh, and a hug and a kiss. But they didn’t lead down the garden path again, like earlier. DAMN! In fact, the whole day was one of working on passing the time and deliberately cooling our sexual jets. It was unspoken but I comprehended right then, mom needed her space. Even if we were in outer space, we were stuck inside this limited environs and though we were provided comforts, it still felt cramped after the long confinement. So we got to bed late, after splitting a bottle of wine. Ironically, that evening we watched ‘Enemy Mine’, where the alien gets pregnant all by himself, parthenogeneticaly! Then the human has to look after the E. T. kid. Mom said she was glad to have had me the earthling way.

In bed, I thought mom went to sleep right away. Thinking back on the sizzling scene on the sofa, I got a stiffy that was itching bad to be jerked, recalling how I was all set to sock it to mom in her soupy center with my masculine muscle. I figured she was knocked out, so I didn’t bother to transfer to the couch. I tried to not move too much and be quiet, but after a little while mom rolled toward me and whispered, “Do you need some grease? ‘Cause I’ll loan you some of mine, if you do”

I said, “Sure!” and turned on the light to low. Mom flipped down the sheet and dipped her fingers into her honey-pot and spread it on my dick. Then repeated and used her own hand to insure it was thoroughly covered, and then more, until she was jerking me off. I enjoyed the hand job, but soon the air was evaporating the juices, since they kept the atmosphere setting for low humidity.

“You’re going dry,” mom noticed.

I kissed mom, “I know an easier way to make sure that my cock is coated . .”

“What do you suggest?”

“I could dip my pen in your ink well, once or twice . .”

“You promise to be good and pull it out?”

“I promise, just once or twice, that’s all!” God! Was this simple ruse going to work? I was getting two, maybe three strokes inside her; would she let me do more? Might she let my quivering quill in her quim yet in a little longer if I held out? Could I hold out until more dipping was needed? Or might she like it so much that we simply went ahead and completed the act? Or would I be able not to hold off cumming and ruin the moment with a premature ejaculation, from the sheer excitement of being in mom’s pussy? All these thoughts flashed through my brain as I maneuvered my body over my mother’s and aimed for the juncture of her legs, which were an opened invitation to place my prick where it had so longed to go.

Incredibly, I was now doing the very thing that the aliens and I wanted to have happen, and might mom make it unanimous? I lowered my arrow of love to the target of lust and thrust; slowly – gently – dipping deeper; the hot wetness embraced my member. The bulb parted the flushed flesh. Red puffy petals spoke of her arousal too. The shaft was sliding past the hair into the sheath. The bare skin of my meat melding to her tissues. No friction, but a smooth glide until my balls butted up on mom’s ass. The sensation was wonderful. I was no virgin, certainly, but this could not have been more of a first, greater than losing cherry, was the uniting with my mother is this most miraculous way.

I withdrew, as sensual a pleasure almost as entry. I nuzzled the tip in the mushy mouth of her vagina then sank once more into the plush of her femininity, the velvet hollow that swallowed my full manhood. Until the hairy sacks were snug on buns and I felt nubs far within her against my tip. I could have let go then and shot my seed directly to the womb that bore me. But that would be too quick and good sex was meant to be longer; I had to make the most of this opportunity. I pulled back only with the greatest of will power.

“That’s two, are you soaked enough now?” asked mom.

“One more time, just to make sure.” We both knew that I was well coated, that I was only delaying the point where I would have to discontinue my penetration of her pussy. The question was, would she insist that I quit, or let me have one or two more strokes, or more, or want more herself? I dipped. I held it deep. I kissed her. She kissed back. Her legs widened and her pelvis tilted, so that I was every millimeter I could get into her vagina, with my penis.

“Three . . . three . . . THREE . . .” Mom was gasping, but not making any effort to dislodge me. I stayed in, hugging her, my mouth now next to her left ear.

“I love you, mom.” I pulled back, but before I was completely out, her hands went to my haunches gripped my cheeks and pulled me down on her, driving my cock back in her cunt.

“Three . . and a half . .” I gave another stroke, up, and then forward with my manhood drilling her hole. “Three and three quarters . .,” she went.

At that point, counting was superfluous. She was a goner. I gored her gorgeous body with my horn of plenty-of-pleasure. All pretense was dropped, and we went at it with vigor; the voracious hunger for each other we had been denying, now was consuming us. Because of course, we had been coming closer and nearer to this moment, as each day had passed. Now, we just gave into desire, not because of the addled action the additive drove us to, but we were ravenous for the bonding of the intimate incest our sharing of this incarceration incited us to. By having our fates dependent on one another’s help, we had grown closer than ever and this physical communion sealed a spiritual union that united us as people, humans, family, and finally – lovers.

Mom was as eager as I now, for the fuck of fulfillment. I banged her hard, the slapping of our crotches together seemed to echo off the walls. She was wide and opened and moved her hips in counterpoint to my pounding. The breath was being punched out of her as she went “uh . . uh . . uh . . Ahh!” in time to the beat of my meat in her maw. I cooed in her ear involuntary cries of passion going, “ouh . . ooh . . nuh . . Yuh!” with every thrust’s concussion. It was brutish and brutal, rude rutting and animal savage sex as we bashed our genitals together. Like demonic possession, our libidos took control and we were overcome with the madness of mind-numbing ecstasy.

But like a wind-up toy that slows after a while, when the first burst of it’s frantic flailing performance transforms into erratic activity, we eventually calmed, though we continued our coitus. Now like the meandering river, after the rush of rapids and cascades, the peaceful current that flowed was tranquil, yet powerful, as we carried on screwing, but with a more placid pace. Still my dick delved deep in mom’s sheath, the grip of her muscles was clutching my member as it lifted, and her hands still on my buttocks brought me home to her womb. We rocked, we swayed, we undulated; a vertical dance, a rippling double wave of flesh, limbs and torsos in poetic motion as we connected and parted and re-engaged our organs in the timeless copulation of our species’ way.

Let the aliens watch! We’d teach them a thing or three! Okay? Is this what you wanted? Well, to HELL with you, we did it because we wanted to! Not for you, for us! For the sheer joy of fucking, for the frolic and fun of sex. This is what it means to be fully human – to be sexual beings; and of course we are doing it for the cum . . . Oh God, for the climax, the orgasm, the pulsing peak of our physical pleasure . . . which was near . . it was coming . . soon . . we looked into each other’s eyes and saw the start of the electric current that ran through our nerves from her to me and back to her. I picked up the rhythm, the energy was increasing, the urgency was a ominous thunder, a rumbling of the coming stampede, a roaring of the cataract we were about to tumble over. No turning back, no turning around; an inevitable event, an irresistible tidal wave, an overwhelming feeling . . .

Mother’s voice suddenly wailed in a climbing pitch of sheer emotion, and my own groans repeated with a klaxon like bray. Then I was shoving my cock in cunt – hard. Hard, and striving for every fraction I could get in her hole before the explosion of spume. Then with a terrific convulsion of my gut, the stream of semen sluiced through the tube of muscle and out the burning tip into the scalding caldera it was plunged into. I felt my mother tremble and shudder as the frisson of her own paroxysm thrilled her and swept her along to the final fit of physical satiation. But our carnal carnival of thrill rides was not done yet!

The benefit of youth is that bonus-boner of a second wind; though the turgid resurgence of tumescence is more of a hydrolic nature than atmospheric pressure. Of course, mom needed to catch her breath all the same. Then I manipulated her to hands and knees with me in back, and this pup got the piece of tail that was a second helping. I had my palms on mom’s waist moving her to and fro, so that the hot-dog was sliding between the buns. AH! The joys of doggie. The view is wonderful, the hairy twat, the portal of the female’s fun-house, with a porthole sphincter to play with, if you’re inclined. The different angle is satisfying and the balls can swing free to bump on the soft pud.

While that was a gratifying gait, mom had her own agenda; now that we were involved in doing the dirty deed she’d swore we’d never do. After a while, before I used up my next shotgun shell, she maneuvered our configuration so that I was on my back and she was taking me for a ride. I always favored this position for the opportunity it gave to dally with the double dairy of the gal’s mammeries. Be it the twin nips to tweak or nibble, or the delight of having those velvety pillows brush your chest with their special sensual touch. Those gift of God’s genius (they could have been udder-ly different!) upon the maidens, were made for man. Not to mention, the lady above is all the while lavishing her lascivious crotch on your length. The belly dance she does definitely can blow your whistle, while your willie is whipping in and out of her wet and wild wanton hollow.

In the end, no pun intended, I brought mom down to rest her breasts on me in a clench, as I punched up using my heals dug in the mattress, putting my backbone into making us both cum again. I kissed her when we were face to face, but we needed our mouths for air as we rocketed away on the final blast-off. Once more the smacking of our flesh clapped together in an applause of our prurient performance. I felt the arriving jism like the boiling of water that bubbles over, squirting out in several squibs of sweet creaming. The pulsing of my peter in her pussy sent mother over the edge then, and she ground her greedy gash on my prick as she sighed, “OOHH YESSS!”

She simply rolled off me and while we had little strength left after the exhausting workout, we did kiss and caress. Then we arranged ourselves in a tangled hug and fell asleep. We slept late. I woke first and took care of business. Mom never stirred, so I jumped in the shower to get the dried sweat and other bodily crusty-crud off. When I finished mom was awake and stripping the bed. She announced she was going to take a long bath. She wanted some time to think about what had happened last night. But she ordered a bottle of Champagne from ‘room-service’ and a plate of appetizers. She looked at me with the bottle and hors d’oeurves in her hands and said, “I’ve been abducted by aliens, gone without clothes for ten days, smoked a lot of grass and screwed my son last night – so” we exclaimed it both together, “WHAAT THUH FUUCK!!”

I thought she had a point so I ordered a few joints, and lit one. I was getting a nice buzz on and started to make the bed with sheets fresh from the alien laundry, as the ‘linen-service’ had cycle the soiled ones I stuffed in the drawers. Suddenly the TV turned on by itself, and there was this nondescript fella like a generic announcer on the screen.

You know what he said – or if you have sperm all over your fingers, you can wipe it off and use the find-function to go back to the first ‘WHAAT THUH FUUCK’ and pick up the replay.

Which is what they did when mom finally got out of the tub and got her snack and more no-pain Champagne, then she came over to where I was and started to ask about my interview. I began with the confirmation that indeed their nefarious finagling with our fates was focused on our fucking. Then the rerun of the whole conversation was played for her. My voice was recorded along with Bemet’s part, but just his image was on the screen.

When the tape . . no I imagine it was a digital recording . . got to the part about mother being pregnant, she laughed and said, “Nah . .Huh-uhh . .” But when subsequently he reacted to my “Better than a little sibling who’s an off-spring also!” as if the gamete gambit were a done deal for real, then signed off, she blew her top. She turned a bright red and in her most ‘she who must be obeyed’ voice, mother commanded “Bemet, you get back here NOW, you miserable mothershit of an alien!” To my surprise, he did comeback, or at least the image that was his stand-in. He had that same slightly smug-mug of a face, but the audio was not plugged in so his mouth moved, but no sound came out. I sort of knew how he felt. Both my dad and I can be struck speechless, when mom is in that super-angry mood.

“Bement! Or what ever your shriek/stinking name is, what the fuck do you mean I’m pregnant?”

“A little bit pregnant, yes.”

“It is not a matter of degree, like being slightly deaf.”

“You caught, we will remove it.”

“That’s cold, what if I want to keep it?”

“Expectations of babies is against policy for subjects under study.”

“It’s my body!”

“The contract for the zygote is already sealed and delivered, so the infant cannot be allowed to come to term.” said Bemet, matter of factly.

“You inhuman monster!”

“BEM there, done that.”

So now that we have allowed ourselves to be seduced into incest, are you done with your wagering, can the game end? Do we get to go free?”

“Yes, the arrangements are already being made.”

“Do you put us in those machines again? What were those?”

“Basically goosed up MRIs with noise suppression and somethings you dirt-lings have yet to discover, but you will soon, in the next twenty years we predict. I, myself, placed 50 zilchion on a spread of 15 / 18. After all, we had to make sure you were healthy – and could have . . . er . . . souvenirs”

Mother seethed for a moment but then regained her self-control. “Where do you damned aliens come from?”

“No, not Deneb, much further, but I can tell you that cruise control makes a big difference on long distance trips.”

Mother ignored the added-in-translation and continued her interrogation. “How did you provide what we asked for so fast?”

“We have a well stocked larder, and we use light to cook with, much faster than microwaves and better texture. The trick is to know before hand what you will pick. Like a magician’s card trick, it’s predictable that people order steak for their first meal. Just like they will choose the queen of hearts which the prestidigitator will force them to have as ‘their’ card. They thought they had picked that very card at random, but that is the illusion!”

“My husband will know we have been missing for all this time.”

Mom’s voice was heard out of the TV, and dad’s, they were having a conversation about seeing the Grand Canyon. Then I got on the phone with dad and told him about how neat the Carlsbad Caverns were. Obviously, they had sampled our voices, and extracted phonemes and strung them together just like you do with pixels in Photo Shop. Aliens were good at manipulating (tentaclating?) things; data, food, humans.

This got mom so angry she picked up a chair by the table and smashed the televisions screen with a loud scream. She staggered over to the bed and collapsed into tears. I didn’t much feel like going crazy, but just kind of let down and dazed. I went over and lay next to mom and rubbed her back, but said nothing. Consciousness just sort of faded away. I dreamed I was on some kind of examining table attended by robotic gizmos and they tickled, but that was hazy. Maybe I didn’t dream it, or maybe I was still stoned. It was all blurry until I came to – next to mom, and we were not where you would expect.

When we regained our senses, we were in our car (don’t know how). Mom in the driver-side, I was passenger-side front seat. We saw before us a huge circular structure, with windows around its circumference, high off the ground, resting on four arched legs. It took me a moment to realize what it was. “Mom, do you see what I see?”

“Yeah, but how could that be?”

We said it together, “WWHAAT THUH FUUCK!”

“Do you think we were ever really in New Jersey?”

“Well, I don’t know, but I know where we are now, L A X!”

“Yeah, that’s the ‘Theme’ building at Los Angeles Airport!”

“What date does your watch say?”

To neither of our surprise, not only had my watch been returned and was strapped on my wrist, but I was dressed in the same outfit as when we had begun our journey – I looked at my watch – two weeks ago. Mom was clothed too. “You’re right, dad’s due here within the hour!” For of course, we knew that it had been nearly two weeks in alien custody, and why here – except to fulfill their promise that we would be reunited with dad as scheduled.

Once you accept the premise, that the BEMs had superior technology and ways of manipulating our consciousness, on / off at least; then not much of what they do to you is all that astonishing. We humans are quite adaptable [if not adorable pets for aliens], though we were not very co-operative when co-opted to be adopted lab animals. What else are you going to do, when there is no door to exit out? What are you going to be, when captured by Extra-Terrestrials, human or guinea pig? That is the existential question we were faced with. We let human nature take its course and gained our freedom, by doing what we enjoyed; despite the additive, not because of it.

We met dad and continued with our itinerary as planned. Of course we didn’t tell him about our adventure, who would believe it? Much less, what we had done finally, that was secret too. We did make a side trip to a place where folks were allowed to try to pan for gold. Bemet had provided an excellent set of GPS co-ordinates, each of us ‘discovered’ enough gold nuggets to finance ten times what I had saved for the trip. Mom thought it wasn’t enough even so, but it’s not as if we had any leverage in the matter. Next summer we can afford for the whole family to go on a trip together.

I did get something else as a benefit from our experience. When we got home, after a few weeks, one afternoon when dad was still at work, mom and I looked at one another, and we could see what was on the other’s mind – same as in our own. Mom said softly, “Whaat thuh Fuuck!”, took my hand and we headed for her bedroom. No additive needed now. Thanks Bemet!

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