4. Helena

I decided upon an early night and went to resume my reading in my chamber. Barclay had laid out my night clothes and rum, so I enjoyed the peace and quiet.

I had been reading for no more than a half of an hour, when I heard my mother pass by on her way to her own bedroom.

I had not yet changed for bed, so after a short while, I made my way to her room, ostensibly to wish her good night.

Once again Helena sat in her chair with her favourite dressing gown covering her charms.

We talked for a few minutes and then she said. "I am curious William. The first night of your return, you told me of your desire for me, but then dismissed me. The next night, you treated me like a queen, even serenading me but then you made no move towards me, except to kiss me in an un-familial manner. I am afraid I do not understand your plan."

Sitting on a foot-stool at her side, holding her hands in mine, stroking them and noting little sign of resistance to my touch. I told Helena, "It is quite simple, mother, I have declared my passion for you and the desire that accompanies it. I mean to make you mine but I would prefer that the choice to accept my worship and my love, is yours and yours alone. I shall not forcefully replace my father in your heart, instead, you will come to me of your own accord."

Helena looked at me. "Ah!" She smiled, a knowing smile.

After a few moments she went on, "In that case, I have given much thought to your plan. In fact, I have thought about nothing else over the last few days."

"And?" I asked.

"It is true, I do love you and admire you. And I can see that there are advantages to such a relationship, however wrong it might be, but I have demands ..."

At that point I knew I had her. I kept my face still, hiding my exultation. "They will not go unfulfilled mother, whatever they are."

My mother held her hand up to silence me, with a slight smile. "I have no doubt," she said.

"Your father," Helena continued, "As you know, was some twenty years older than me. It is the way of our society, that a woman often has no say in who she weds, especially when the man who takes her hand is rich and powerful. Women in these circumstances are propelled into a strange world. Often, they are alone - apart from their husband, with no friend, no peer, because the disparity between his and her ages means that willing as she might be, she has no connection with her husband's friends and acquaintances.

"Thus, it was for me. Your father took an eighteen-year-old girl and made her a woman. I gave him children, though not the ones he wanted. For him it was about more sons, and, instead, he received more daughters.

"Oh, he tried, but after Hermione he lost interest, in them and me. He threw himself into his ventures and while his fortune increased, his interest in his family waned to the point where he seemed like he wanted nothing further to do with us. You never lacked for anything - but he was never a doting father, your sisters became my sole responsibility, he would not consort with us though he retained a tight control of their futures. Your sisters lack husbands because your father denied me the ability to prepare them for and present them at court during the 'Season'."

The Season is the social frenzy that runs from March to July when girls come 'out' into society and having come out, they frantically begin the search for husbands.

Helena went on, "He also denied them their dowries. We lacked for nothing materially, but he kept us almost like he kept his wealth. It would be fair to say that he hoarded us, like we were part of his estate."

She stood up and opened her dressing gown, exposing her nakedness. Her body was everything I imagined it would be. Her fair, fashionably pale skin shone bright in the dimly lit room, the light from the fire flickering across her exposed flesh. Her breasts sat firm and full upon her chest with large nipples, that even in the warmth from the fire stood proud and her belly, despite her children, was flat and led the eye to the downy mound, in the shadows between her thighs.

"William, I shall give you everything you want - myself, in your bed, with all of my love, willingly ..."

"If...?" I asked as I stood.

"You undertake to see that your sisters all have their dowries settled and assist them in making good matches next year."

I took her in my arms, wrapping her in my embrace. She kissed me gently, not yet a lover's kiss but full enough in the lips that once again, it went beyond the boundaries of that of a mother and son.

"I swear it shall be so." I told her.

Helena drew her head back and looked at me, her eyes shining. "In that case ..."

She drew me back towards her bed, undoing my waistcoat as she did so. Her hands were gentle but persistent, exploring.

I laid her down upon her covers and kissed her deeply, my hands sliding across her skin, her stunning nakedness.

Then I stood up, re-adjusting my waistcoat.

"No mother." I said with a smile, as I backed away. "I said that you would come to my bed. Until then ..."

I walked back to my room and undressed. Without donning my night attire, I climbed into my bed, wondering how long she would wait. Barely had that thought formed in my mind than there was a soft knock on my door.

"Come in!"

Her open robe framed her nudity, as she strode across the gap between the door and my bed. "You are a harsh master!" She said, with an amused smile, as she paused and posed with a bob of a curtsey before me, opening her arms with a flourish. "I present myself."

I threw the bed sheet down, the room was well warmed by the fire in the grate, and moved myself over across the width of the bed. Helena discarded her dressing gown and climbed in next to me, still with a little half-smile. "Is this what you want?" She asked.

"More than you would ever believe," I told her. "And you? Is it truly your wish to be here?" I reached for her hand and began by gently caressing it.

My step-mother looked down for a moment as she considered my question. "Yes." She said at last. "Yes, it is.

"When you first told me of your desires, I was stunned," she said. "Stunned, and shocked that you would propose such a thing." I was, by now kissing her finger tips.

"I mean, yes, my beautiful boy grew to be a man, and such a fine handsome man. But despite the loveless marriage that mine had become, I never thought of a dalliance as many other women do, certainly not one between the two of us. But when you came to me and told me what you intended, well, it occurred to me as you said, that the difference between our ages is less than that between me and your father when I first came to him, and you are correct, it counts even less considering that we are both grown."

I nodded. "And there is no blood between us." I reminded her.

"Some might still raise it as an impediment..." she suggested.

"Damn them to hell!" I told her. I placed my arm around her shoulders and drew her to me, at last feeling the warmth of her skin against mine, the softness of her breast as it touched mine. "The commons think nothing of this sort of thing. There was one woman who followed my regiment that was married to one of two brothers. When one was killed, she took up with the other immediately we reformed after the fight.

"And even should we not marry it would not be considered ill, that you still live in my house. You are my father's widow after all, Lady Rogeringham!" I laughed, "And I swear I will be more of a husband to you than my father ever was." And at that point I leaned in and kissed her.

As we kissed, I pressed my tongue towards her lips.

"What are you doing?" Helena drew back, a puzzled smile on her face.

"They call it kissing, mother," I told her.

"I know what it is!" She laughed, "But your tongue ..."

"Ah!" I smiled, "That is called French kissing ... allow me. Relax."

My step-mother is an astute woman, she followed my example and returned my exploration, like for like. Soon our tongues tangled sensually, as we explored each other's mouth, and passionately too. Helena's hands roamed across my body as mine did hers. I touched for the first time, the soft swell of her bared breasts, the prominent stud of her nipple against my palm. I roamed my other hand across her back and down to the globes of her bottom, those sweetly rounded cheeks.

She on the other hand, found what she sought between my thighs. And that discovery brought a look of delight and also a little concern to her face.

"Oh William!" She exclaimed. "Oh!"

"Is something amiss?" I wasn't overly concerned, my parts are not massive, but they have brought a smile of contentment to women's faces, so I know that they are adequate.

"No," she said hurriedly, smiling, but then her face fell. "And yes."

I waited. "You are much better equipped than your father was, very much so. But it is so long since I last laid with him, I fear I shall be too tight for this weapon of yours."

It was my turn to smile. And smile I did, as I kissed her mouth, and then each coral-coloured nipple, her pale stomach, until sliding down the bed I laid face to face with my prize.

Helena's jewel, the fortress I had set out to conquer, laid before me as if I was over-looking its defences, ready to carry them by assault. And what a prize it was.

Red lips blossomed at the base of her mound, swelling - even as I watched - ready for me. She had dabbed herself behind each ear with a drop of eau de cologne, but even with that sweet scent I could smell her arousal, sweet, sharp and musky waiting before me.

"William! William, what are you doing?" My mother asked as I lowered my head, and began to press my tongue between her lips.

"Oh!" she gasped. "Oh heavens!" Her hands played about the sides of my head, at the same time trying to push me away and then to pull me forwards, into her.

I had learned how to stimulate a woman by cunnilingus under the tutelage of Lady Emma Garstang, a domineering woman, who demanded her bed fellows do as they were told. I played her games and was taught much in the process. Cunnilingus, or gamahuching, was one of the many lessons that I learnt, and learnt well, and in my head, I offered a prayer of thanks to Lady Garstang for teaching me.

Helena was breathless as I licked deeper and deeper, passing my tongue up and down the length of her quim. "Oh!" She panted, "William. Oh! OOOOH!"

I pressed my tongue against her little clitoris, which had emerged, flicking the bean-like organ. Again, and again, I attacked it, rapidly lashing it with my tongue, before tugging it gently between my lips.

"Williaaaammmmmmoh! Oh! Oh! Oh!!" The onset of her orgasm startled my mother with its swiftness and, I assume, its intensity, as she thrashed about the bed. Her hands grasped great folds of the bed sheets in her passion and her head lolled from side to side. But most importantly of all, I felt the juices from her cunny flood my mouth, as her body shook and quivered.

Not hesitating - I was eager to at last consummate my years of desire, I slid up and into her. She was tight, tighter than some virgins I have known, so rather than a full-blown assault, my progress was more measured, and considered as I entered her. I sought accommodation, hers and mine, as I felt her hips shift beneath me, saw the look of concern on her face turn joyful as I sank deeper and deeper inside her.

"Oh Lord!" She said quietly, but with passion, "I am so full."

"And I am not yet fully seated, mother." I told her, before pressing home and doing just that, pressing myself so that my dark pubes tangled with her lighter ones.

She reached up and hugged me to her, forcing her beautiful breasts against my chest. "Sweet Lord Jesus!" She gasped.

"Oh, my dear mother!" I laughed as I lay on top of her, "We must work on your vulgarities! I cannot see us enjoying nights of carnal passion, if you constantly call upon the Lord Jesus. What would the vicar say?"

She looked at me, with an amused annoyance, "I am a lady of a certain station, the widow of a duke and mother to his successor. I do not have the vocabulary of a street harlot."

Then she smiled sheepishly, looking completely adorable, "I do the best I can. If you want otherwise - you must teach me else."

"Forgive me, I was making a jest," I said as I kissed her, "I would not change you for the world."

"Perhaps I am too old to change," she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Now, take that magnificent hard cock of yours and fuck your mother, else it will be dawn and the servants stirring before we're done."

"Yes mother." I said and began to fuck her.

It was plain that Helena was much out of practice, but thankfully fucking is one of those skills that once learnt, returns swiftly to a person, and soon she had raised her legs and wrapped them around my back. Her hands clasped me to her, her fingernails raking my skin as her passion stirred again and again.

Several times she cried out quite loudly, once she even called on God and His Little Angels, and by this sign I knew that I was doing what I set out to do, making my mother my own.

I rolled on my back, not because my side was hurting - it did slightly, but it was quite bearable - no, I wanted to watch Helena, my mother, on top. I wanted to watch those jouncing bubbies bounce up and down, see those wondrous nipples bobbing before my eyes and then lift those same eyes to see the face of the woman I have loved for so many years. And I was rewarded in that, as I saw her face contort with passion as she caught her lower lip with her teeth, as yet again her spend drenched my cock and balls.

That brought me to my own cum. When I felt it stirring in my loins, I rolled us once again and took the final possession of my mother, shooting my seed deep inside her with a heartfelt groan of relief and pleasure.

Content that we had both come off, I rolled to the side, my cock slipping from her cunny, and lying limp on my thigh. We were both panting with pleasure, from release and passion.

Suddenly Helena threw herself upon me, hugging me and covering my face in her kisses. Naturally I was unrestrained in kissing her back, but I was curious. Helena had come willingly to my bed, or so she said, but I was expecting some reservation at least. This new burst of passion was wilful and intense.

After a short time, it subsided and my mother laid back. I raised myself on my elbow and looked down at her. Her face, post-passion, was stunning, serene almost. The idealised image that I had carried in my mind of her through my school days, through my teenage years and on to manhood and into the army, was plain compared to the glorious picture before me. Lying next to me was a goddess who walked amongst us, a being of beauty and passion.

And then she smiled up at me.

"Well?" She asked, "Was I worth the wait?"

"Every single day of it and more," I told her. "I cannot imagine my life being any more complete."

"You have a smooth tongue on you, William, and you did not get it from your father." She kissed me gently on the mouth. Then she pulled back, a shy smile on her face, "Talking of tongues," she said.

"Yes?"

"That thing you did before," she lowered her eyes.

I slid my fingers across the slick, gooey lips of her quim. "Down here?" I said as I teased her clitoris.

"Yes!" She moaned, arching her back up on the bed. "Oh God!"

"What about it?" I asked as I lowered my head and kissed her nipples.

"A moment please?" Helena, begged me as her breathing returned to normal.

I kissed her belly, pale in the lamp light.

"Was it ... this thing?" I asked softly kissing the dampened curls of her pretty quim.

"Oh my!" She gasped. "Yes!"

"What was it you wanted?" I returned to kissing her mons and thighs, anywhere but her ready, quivering pussy.

"Do it again?" She begged. "Please, William, do it again?" Her need was urgent.

"This?" I asked, as if I was surprised at her request.

"Yes!" her voice was a desperate squeak. "I have never felt anything like it, do it again, I beg you."

"At your command, my love."

I laid about her quim with a will. I actually enjoy cunnilingus and I have practised to be good at it. There is nothing more important in bed than the satisfaction of both partners, and with it being my mother, I wanted her satisfaction more than anything.

I felt Helena's hands on my head again, and let her guide me, thus achieving my aim - her pleasure. But soon her hands lay limp on my head as she fell back on the bedsheets, enjoying the attentions of my tongue. At this point, I reached my hands under her thighs and lifted her legs up, raising my mother's hips so that I could explore her more fully.

Her moans were deep and breathy, she groaned with pleasure, and writhed her hips in my face. I wasn't the only one who enjoyed quim-licking, it appeared. By now I was ready to fuck again, so I got up on my knees and placed myself behind Helena, my hand still diddling her cunny.

Lifting her leg, I slid into her from behind her bottom, sliding deep into her quim. Helena turned her head back and looked up at me, her hand toying with my nipples languidly.

As I fucked her, I teased her clitoris, and once again she shook as her spend came down, shaking her body. Finally, I was ready to cum myself, I turned my mother over, so she was on her hands and knees on my bed - the bed that had been my father's, and I shoved my cock deep inside her, spewing man-jism into the mouth of her womb.

Helena was still of an age where bearing a child was not unheard of, and the thought of her having my son, appealed greatly to me. I think she could have cared more at that point, as she gasped and panted vulgarities and tore at the bed-sheets. I was happy, more than happy, ecstatic, to be there fucking the woman I had devoted my whole life to, but the possibility of breeding her with the child of the new duke made it even more delicious.

My jism shot, and her orgasm done, we lay down and slept, for a short while, entwined lovers, naked, with the bed-sheets half covering us.

With my torso uncovered as it was, Helena examined each and every one of my several scars. I reassured her that they none of them were of an issue any more but she spent several moments with her fingers on the still raw, red line that snaked its way along the bottom edge of my rib cage.

I took her hand in mine and kissed it, to stop her dwelling on what could have been, and we simply lay together.

In the baking heat and the choking Portuguese dust. I looked up at the French dragoon in his bronze helmet with its long black mane, his long-tailed green coat with the red lapels. Try as I might, I could not bring my sword up, as his sabre sliced towards me. Lancing pain burned along my side as I fell to the floor, and as I lay there, I watched as he raised his arm to stab down at me again, unable to do anything to stop it ...

"William! William!" Helena was shaking me awake. It took me a few moments to realise I was no longer in danger, that I was safe and warm and in London, in my mother's arms.

Her eyes were full of concern as she looked at me.

"It was just a bad dream, mother, a bad memory relived." I told her.

I don't know how long we lay like this but eventually I got up to use the jaques, letting my piss pour into the pot, only to look up to see my mother watching me. She needed to piss as well, so while she held the pot under her I walked over to the fire and stoked it up, placing some more coal onto the red-hot embers. As I took some of my father's walnut rub tobacco and packed the bowl of a clay pipe, I sat down and watched my mother wipe her cunny with a cloth.

"And what, may I ask, are you watching?" She asked me as she slid the piss-pot back under the bed.

I leaned over and lit a spill from the fire, and touching it to the tobacco in the pipe, I puffed on it for a moment.

"I am watching the most beautiful woman in my life, possibly even the world, who I am totally devoted to - taking a piss and enjoying every second of it."

Helena came and sat by me on the couch, still nude, and took the pipe from me, the smell of the walnut flavoured tobacco hanging in the room, as she took small delicate pulls of the smoke, exhaling those same small puffs, one after the other. I poured two measures of rum from the decanter and offered her one. She took hers and drank some of the measure.

"God's Truth, William!" My mother exclaimed as she pulled a wry face. "What is this?!"

"Navy rum, it helps me sleep. I prefer it to the geneva that others drink. It is strong stuff, so sippers only, mother." I smiled.

She paused, and laughed, "Look at me!" she said as she sat there, the pipe held in her left hand, the rum in her right, her right leg curled under her. "Here I am naked - pissing in a pot in front of my younger lover who is also my step-son, a lover who has treated my underused cunny to all sorts of lewd behaviour. And now I'm sitting, smoking a pipe and drinking rum like a bank-side harlot. How far have I fallen in just one evening?"

I took the pipe and drew on it, before blowing a smoke ring into the air in front of us. My mother's remarks took my mind off the nightmare. "Oh Helena! Beloved. That, tonight, was just the beginning. The world of the bed chamber is so much more than my father ever let you see."

Helena took a sip from her drink, and pulled a wry face at the taste, "How so?" She asked curiously.

"The Church would have us believe that sex between a man and his wife is merely for procreation. The man lies on top of the woman and does his business, God forbid that either of them enjoy the matter."

"And you're here to give the lie to that?" She said, taking the pipe back, savouring the richness of the walnut in the tobacco.

"I am." I told her solemnly. "Sex between men and women is a joy, when done right. A pleasure divine, diverse and interesting. With so many by-ways and hidden places to explore." I took the pipe back, only to find that the coal had died, so I stood up and placed it on the mantlepiece, drank off my rum, and took Helena by the hand.

Drawing her up, I led her back to bed. My mother had a roguish look in her eye.

"Allow me to demonstrate." I said, as I placed her on the bed.

I sat upon the bed, with the pillows piled up behind me, Helena sat in front of me, resting against my chest.

"And what are you going to show me now?" my mother asked. I just smiled.

I wrapped my arms around her, drawing her back against my chest. My spread legs allowed her to nestle in against my hardness, which fitted neatly between the cheeks of her bottom.

"Oh!" Helena exclaimed softly, wriggling against me.

"Concentrate, mother dear." I told her, as I took each booby and hefted them, enjoying their fullness as I gently kneaded them with my hand. My thumbs flicked her nipples, causing her head to loll back against my shoulder as she moaned.

As she moved against me, her arse rubbed my cock, making it even harder. Her moans were breathless in my ear, as I slid one hand down her soft belly.

"OH!" Helena exclaimed, as my fingers sought out her clitoris, teasing it out from under its hood. I slipped my fore and middle fingers into her wet, sticky cunny, coating them in her juices, before rubbing her clit against her pubis.

"Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!" Her exclamations were a rapid litany as I vigorously rubbed her to another jerky spend, holding her tightly to me as her body bucked and jumped. Her titty jiggled in my hand as she continued to spend.

My mother leaned against me, nuzzling my neck, "Oh William!" she said softly, lovingly, before exclaiming, "WILLIAM!!!"

My finger pressed against her clitoris again, causing her to jump in surprise. Once again Helena's body shook from her orgasm, and she pressed back against me. I breathed deeply of the combined aroma of her body, the dabs of cologne that she had used and the muskiness of my mother's sex. A heady scent indeed!

My mother's head lolled back against my shoulder as she finished cumming. "Ohhhhwilliam!" She sighed.

"I never knew!" She murmured. "Such pleasure!"

"It is simply my way of worshipping you, mother," I told her, emphasising the word mother. "A woman as wonderful, as beautiful as you, deserves no less than the greatest of pleasures."

I felt her chuckle against my neck. "La sir! Indeed, that silver tongue of yours never came from your father! So smooth!" She said, "And so skilful!" She laughed.

I cupped her smooth bottom in my hands and lifted her hips off the bed, sliding myself down slightly as I did so.

Helena gasped as I lifted and turned her to face me, and she grasped my shoulders to steady herself. But as she felt my hard cock nosing at the lips of her cunny, she eased her legs apart, allowing me to slip inside her.

"Guide me, William," she said as she looked down at me. "Show me how to do this."

"Have no fear. I shall take care of you mother." I emphasised the word 'mother' again, as I began to lift her and lower her down on my hardness.

"That sounds so naughty!" Helena laughed.

"Calling you mother?"

"Aaaaah!" She gasped, "Yes, as if we are committing an incredible sin."

"It only makes it all the more delicious, do you not think?"

"Oh God! Yes! Fuck me William, fuck your mother hard! Make me your harlot, your slut, your roadside bitch!"

"Mother!" I laughed. "Do you kiss your daughters with that mouth?"

"A pox on you, sir!" She laughed back, by now her hair was disarrayed, and she looked every inch a wanton. "Just give me more of this wonderful prick!"

"As you wish mother." And I began to fuck her in earnest, eventually turning her over again, this time lying her face down upon the bedding, with her arse up-raised. We fucked like this for a few minutes, until she stopped me, and turned around.

"Let me see your face William, this animal fucking of yours is indeed fun, but I'd rather gaze upon my brave lover."

And like that, in a more traditional posture we fucked until I spurted up inside her lovely cunny.

I was done. I lay upon the sheets, watching her in the flickering fire light, as she got up off the bed.

"I must go back to my room now; else my maid Phoebe will be there to wake me ..."

She lowered her face to mine, and kissed me tenderly. "Oh, my son, what wonders you have wrought this night. Debauching your old mother..."

I went to say something, to deny her age, but she stilled me with a single finger on my lips. "Do not worry, William, I shall be back." She patted my limp cock fondly. "And between us, we shall seek a way for this to work."

And she was gone.

Playing our lust out again in my head, I fell asleep.