on her and in her from every angle and in nearly every hole she had, day and night. He seemed to have an endless supply of semen. He ate like a horse and, replenishing his strength, was at her again. But she loved it. There was no guilt in her now. How long it could last, she could not guess. She was wise enough to know that eventually it all must terminate. Nothing lasts forever.
In fact, she was surprised they had not been visited by some neighbor, or friend, or relative, or official, by this time. But they had not.
The only break had been her trips into the village about once a week for staples in food and other supplies. And she had gone alone. Tim had remained contented on the island. She sighed. She should be guilty, she thought. Having sex with her son, child of her flesh. But, oh, how wonderful it was. How great a lover he was becoming… and she could not envision, at this point, turning from the huge, wonderful cock of his and that seemingly continuously spurting fountain of cum.
She floated in the water and rested, dreaming of the hours and days to come when she and Tim would make love endlessly in their idyll of summer madness.
CHAPTER EIGHT
As all things will, the solitude of the summer came to an end abruptly one morning. Mara looked out of the window while she was preparing a late breakfast and noticed a small boat approaching the island from the mainland. Taking a pair of binoculars she kept handy to watch the activities of the small animals and birds on the island, she trained them on the approaching vessel. A man and a woman were aboard, the man piloting it, the woman watching the island through a pair of glasses. Mara was certain the woman could see her as she, in turned, watched the woman. But perhaps the woman's observation could not penetrate the shadows of the window. Mara did not recognize either of the occupants of the boat. Annoyed at the loss of their idyllic days at the coming of the visitors, she called to Tim. “Come here, Tim. See if you know these people.”
“What people?” he called from the hallway. “There is a couple coming to the island and I do not recognize either of them. I thought you might.” He took the glasses and looked carefully at the approaching couple. “I never saw them before, Mom. And they sure are coming right up to our dock.” She could see them well now with her naked eyes. “They surely are,” she agreed. She turned to him.
“Get dressed and go to meet them. Take them to the patio and then call me. I'll be dressing.” She smiled at him and then kissed him tenderly, reaching down and taking his half-hard cock in her hand and moving it gently until he began to stiffen. “Maybe they won't stay long and we can figure out some new way to make love,” she murmured.
He grinned and caressed her tits, making the dark nipples stand out and stiffen in excitement. “I'm for that, Mom.” He gave them one last squeeze and left the kitchen, his huge cock bobbing and waving before him, the big bag bouncing between his legs. He was at the gate that led to the patio when the man and woman walked up the graveled pathway to the house. “Hi there,” the man called. “Are we intruding?” Tim judged the man to be about forty or forty-five. He was deeply tanned and looked strong. Not so tall, but well built. His teeth gleamed white in the dark of his face. “No, not necessarily,” Tim said cordially. “We don't often get visitors out here.” “So Jerry the garage attendant told us over in the village.” They had come up to the gate. “This is my wife, Ruby, and I am Bill Trooper. We are looking for Mrs. Fletcher. Mrs. Mara Fletcher, wife of Mike Fletcher that died in Angola a few months ago.”
“That was my Dad,” Tim told them, unsmiling, “and Mara is my Mom's name. She said to tell you to make yourself at home on the patio and she'll be out in a minute.” He opened the gate and gestured toward the lawn chairs and chaises on the patio. The man and woman accepted his invitation and seated themselves. Mara had already drawn on a brief bikini, with a loose halter that barely concealed her full breasts, and was observing the couple from a concealed place behind the curtain to the window overlooking the patio. She eyed the man closely. Something there was about him that seemed familiar. Some action, the poise of the head… something that stirred her caution.
The woman she gave only a glance. She was a hanger-on, Mara decided quickly. The man had picked her up somewhere and was taking her with him for a frontispiece. She was only decoration. Realizing she could not draw the absence out longer, she went to the screened door and stepped out upon the patio. She paused and smiled at the couple.
“Hello. I am Mara Fletcher. Tim and I,” she nodded to her son, “saw you coming across the lake.” She stood looking at them expectantly. The man grinned lazily. “Hello, Mara. I have heard a lot about you, but never really thought I would ever see you.” She frowned. What did that mean? “Am I supposed to know you?” She advanced and sat on the edge of a redwood lounge chair, looking over at the man who sprawled lazily in a chaise. Her eyes took in the growing bulge in the man's crotch and knew that he was having thoughts of getting her to bed, his eyes rounding about her tits and her thighs, and his penis growing longer and harder down his pants leg, The other woman noticed it too, and stirred restlessly. However, she was eyeing Tim and noted that the front of the boy's pants seemed unusually full for so young a kid. Suspicious thoughts ran through her mind. Was this woman fucking her own kid? “Not really, Mara,” the man drawled. “My name doesn't matter. What does matter is that your man, Mike Fletcher, was one-third partner with me and another guy in some jewels we found in Uganda during our last little fracas there three years ago.” “So? Mike never discussed these matters with me. It was his business. I let him alone with it.” “Some bloody business,” snapped the woman. “Shut up, Ruby,” the man said casually.
She glared at him and then turned her attention to Tim again, noting that the crowded space in his crotch had started to protrude and bulge. “Mike and me, and one other man I won't name, got out of Uganda by the skins of our teeth,” Bill Trooper told Mara. “The other fellow caught a spear in the gut and we had to leave him. But Mike took the rubies and a black pearl-a beauty, by the way,” he sighed, remembering it, “and was to fence them in London. I followed him a day later, and when I got there, I found he had never gone to London, but was conspicuous by his absence. What happened, dear lady, your fine husband absconded with the jewel-pretties, fenced them in New York, finally sent me a pittance for my part, and then went to Angola and got himself killed before I could catch up with him.” She nodded.
“He was killed in Angola,” she admitted. “But what does all this have to do with Tim and me?” The man leaned up in the chaise and the huge erection in his pants protruded, making the pants stand out like a tent. Obviously he was wanting to get between Mara's delightful thighs. “It means just this, lady. You are going to cough up about two hundred thousand dollars, and quickly. Or you and your pretty boy there will disappear from this island, mysteriously like, and form an unusual ghost story for the old men and witches of this community to scare their kids with-about a boy and his Mom who suddenly disappeared from the island and are heard crying in the breeze on nights when the moon is gone and the mists rise from the lake.” “You are out of your skull, man.” Mara jumped to her feet.
“Now you get to your boat and get off my island-you are trespassing, you know.” “What will you do if I don't?” the man asked, rising and taking a step toward her. “I'll-I'll call the sheriff,” she shrilled, suddenly frightened. The man grinned. “Go on, call.
You'll find that he is at the capital for a convention. And that the village marshal, whom I have known for several years, is just banking a nice fistful of green stuff I gave him to turn a deaf ear toward this island.” He shook his head. “No way, lady. Now, let's you and me go into the house and talk business.” He turned to the woman.
“Ruby, you keep the boy out here for a while, huh, while his mother and I talk over our business. Entertain him in your personal way of entertaining, eh?” He winked at the woman and she grinned at him. “Sure, Bill. Go right ahead. Timmy and I will get along all right, won't we. Tim? Tim glared at the man. “Mom, are you all right? He isn't going to hurt you, is he?” Mara smiled, pale but contained now. “It's all right, honey. You stay here while Mr. Trooper and I go over some papers.” She patted his cheek and then left, leading the man into the kitchen and then into the front room.
Ruby turned to Tim and took his hand. “Sit down right there, in front of me, boy. Now, let's you and me have a little fun, huh?”
To his surprise, she quickly slipped out of her shorts and settled back, her bottom half completely nude. Slowly she leaned back and spread her thighs, and he watched as her hairy cunt came into view, the lips puffed and dark red, the labia protruding slightly from the inner folds of her vagina, and a little dewy moisture gathered about
