"What has transpired, Fuyu? Has the collective weight of their scorn truly settled within your spirit? I articulated previously that you are under no obligation to proceed if this perceived ignominy is too heavy a burden; your mother's comfort is far less consequential than your own psychological well-being." Nula's voice was a soft, muffled vibration in the thick, fuliginous darkness that now permeated the hut. She reached out, her fingers searching through the stygian gloom to find the familiar planes of his face, but the absolute lack of light rendered her blind. A sudden, sharp constriction seized her heart—a visceral pang of guilt. Had her playful machinations and the public spectacle she orchestrated pushed him too far? Was she committing a transgression against his burgeoning masculinity?
Fuyu's hands, however, did not falter. He continued to rhythmically knead the soft, pliant flesh of her calves with a lithic persistence. When he finally spoke, his tone was dangerously level, devoid of the cracking vulnerability she expected. "No, Mother. I am not ashamed. Their laughter is merely evanescent noise to me."
"What? Truly?" Nula's surprise was palpable. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, a wave of relief washing over her voluptuous frame. The teasing hadn't broken him. "Then why the stony silence, my quiet one? What was swirling within the labyrinth of your mind to keep your tongue so still?"
"I was merely occupied with other thoughts," Fuyu replied, his voice maintaining a stoic coolness as he attempted to mask the visceral heat still radiating from his cheeks after the public humiliation.
"Oh? And what thoughts could be so imperious that they demand your full attention while your mother sits before you?" Nula asked, her tone shifting back to a playful, coy mockery. She leaned back, bracing herself with both palms against the earthen floor to support her weight. Her legs remained draped across Fuyu's lap, her skin drinking in the sensuous friction of his calloused palms. The rhythmic kneading was beginning to bypass her muscles and strike at something deeper, more primordial.
"I was thinking about Aunt Susan," Fuyu stated simply.
The name hit Nula like a physical blow. Her body stiffened, and her brow furrowed in the dark. I was here, enduring the same ignominy alongside him, worrying for his very soul, and he was occupied with thoughts of her? A surge of possessive irritation flared within her breast—a visceral jealousy. What kind of atavistic betrayal is this? That he would allow the image of another woman to occupy the space I have claimed? Does he not reciprocate the singular focus I afford him? The thought that her son might bestow his preternatural strength and care upon another woman, even his own aunt, felt like a transgression against their private bond.
"I was considering that she, too, must be burdened by the inexorable weight of her daily labors," Fuyu explained, oblivious to the storm he had provoked. "I thought perhaps she might also require my assistance to release the tension of her frame—that I should massage her as well."
"WHAT?" Nula's voice erupted in a guttural shout that nearly shook the thatch above. She quickly caught herself, smoothing her tone into a sharp, magisterial command. "You shall do no such thing! It is more than enough that you provide this service to me. You are not to distribute your strength to anyone else. Do you understand? Your mommy is the only one who requires your... specialized care."
"We shall see to that later," Fuyu replied, his tone suddenly shifting from supple to dominant. Without warning, he clamped his hands down with a formidable increase in pressure, his fingers sinking deep into the gorged muscles of her calves.
"Wh—Ahhh! Fuyu! Do not apply such torrid force so suddenly!" Nula let out a sharp, visceral moan that caught in her throat. The sudden sting of the pressure was sharp, but as the blood rushed to the area, it was followed by a wave of intoxicating relief.
"My apologies, Mother. I shall return to a lighter touch," he murmured.
"No... wait," Nula gasped, her breathing becoming shallow and labored. "Do not occupy yourself with my legs tonight. The ache has migrated elsewhere. It has settled in my shoulders and the small of my back."
"As you wish," Fuyu agreed. He moved behind her, his presence a towering shadow in the gloom. "But you must remove your top first, Mother. I cannot work through the leaves if I am to find the knots in your skin."
Nula felt a visceral shiver travel down her spine at the authoritative cadence of his voice. Why does it feel so preternatural to hear him command me thus? she wondered, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. I should distance myself. I know the incestuous fire he harbors, yet here I am, systematically dismantling the barriers between us. She felt her resolve eroding, her very mind becoming corrupted by the warmth of his proximity. Yet, she found herself helpless against the pull of his atavistic devotion.
"Oh... of course," she whispered. She reached up, undoing the simple ties of her leafy garment. It fell away, leaving her voluptuous upper body bare to the cool night air. She sat before him, a fecund statue in the dark, as Fuyu's hands found the supple curve of her neck.
Fuyu began to work his magic upon her shoulders. His thumbs traced the lithic line of her spine, pressing into the stiff muscles with a sinewy strength that made Nula's head roll back in stupefied bliss.
"Oh... so divine..." she muffled, the words barely audible. The labyrinthine thoughts of society and norms began to dissolve, replaced by the visceral reality of his touch. The heat radiating from his body was like a hearth, surrounding her, claiming her.
She felt the urge to surrender her weight. Her palms found the floor behind her for support, but in the darkness, they landed squarely upon Fuyu's powerful thighs. He flinched a minor, involuntary twitch but remained firm, a solid pillar for her to lean upon.
"Mmm...~Fuyu..." Nula's breath came out in a seductive, torrid hiss as she called his name.
"Do you require more pressure, Mother?" he asked, his focus absolute.
"No, my sweet boy. I merely wish to... lean back. My frame is so heavy with exhaustion. Is it permissible? If I rest against you?" Her voice had dropped into a captivating, mature register—a subtle seduction she wasn't even aware she was performing.
"It is allowed," Fuyu replied.
Immediately, Nula shifted her weight. She leaned back until her bare, creamy back made contact with Fuyu's hard, muscular chest. The sensation was electric. She could feel the rhythmic beat of his heart against her shoulder blades and the masculine, organic scent of him a mix of earth and raw vitality invaded her senses. Her head fell back onto his shoulder, her hot breath ghosting across his cheek.
I am a paragon of sin, she thought, her mind drifting into a stupefied haze. I know his intentions, yet I am practically enticing him. I tell myself I love him with a mother's heart, but the way my body reacts to his sinewy embrace... it is a taboo truth I can no longer ignore. She felt a strange, visceral wetness gathering between her legs, a heat that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.
"Mother... how am I to continue the massage if you are lying upon me thus?" Fuyu asked, his voice a mix of confusion and strained effort. "Your back is inaccessible now. How shall I satisfy your stiffness?"
Nula smiled into the dark, a predatory yet soft expression. "Oh, hush, boy. Let me simply enjoy the sanctuary of my baby's strength for a moment. My own limbs feel as though they have turned to wax. But if you must work... here. Give me your hands."
She reached back, her fingers locking with his. She pulled his arms forward, wrapping them around her voluptuous, slightly rounded stomach. She held them there, pinning his calloused palms against her smooth, bare skin. Fuyu's arms felt like lithic bands of iron, and as he unconsciously tightened his grip, pulling her closer into his sinewy heat, Nula let out a sudden, guttural moan. "Ugh..."
"Ah... nothing, baby. Pull me close to you... just like you just did," Nula commanded, her voice breaking into a sultry rasp.
Fuyu complied, his arms hauling her backward with a formidable strength. The force of it caught Nula's breath in her throat, causing a soft hiccup of pleasure. "Yes... just... ahhh... like that mmmm...~... do it harder.. agghhh.. yes!"
She moaned with the shameless abandon of a creature finally finding its mate. The sensation of being ravaged by the sheer pressure of his arms across her midriff made her limbs go pliant. Her heart was drumming a frenetic rhythm against her ribs, and the butterflies in her womb were no longer fluttering—they were a roaring swarm of heat. She felt herself melting into the lithic contours of his body, her sovereignty as a mother completely surrendered to the visceral dominance of the man she had raised. The wetness she felt now was no mere perspiration; it was the unmistakable sign of her body's total betrayal.
Nula's mind was a swirling maelstrom of conflicting impulses. Part of her—the part that still clung to the sanctity of her role—screamed at her to break away, to re-establish the boundaries she had so recklessly discarded. But another part, a more atavistic and primal fragment of her soul, craved the heat of the fire she had ignited. She could feel Fuyu's breath on the nape of her neck, a torrid and rhythmic puff of air that sent fresh waves of sensuous tremors through her frame.
"Fuyu..." she whispered, her voice a mere gossamer thread in the dark. "Do you realize... what you are doing to your mommy?"
"I am only following your instructions, Mother," he replied, his voice lithic and unwavering, though she could feel the tension in his muscles, the sinewy strain of a man holding back an ocean of desire. "You told me to pull you close. You told me to do it harder."
The logic was irrefutable, yet it felt like a salacious game they were both playing. Nula turned her head slightly, her lips almost brushing against the curve of his jaw. The darkness was their sanctuary, a place where the rules of the village and the stifling expectations of their lineage could not reach them.
"You are so strong," she murmured, her hands tightening over his on her belly. "Your father... he had strength, but yours... it feels different. It feels... predatory."
Fuyu did not answer with words. Instead, he tightened his embrace once more, his arms subjugating her breath as he crushed her bare back against his chest. Nula let out a long, languid moan, her eyes rolling back into her head as the pleasure became almost unbearable. The visceral connection was so absolute that she could feel the thrumming of his own arousal against her, a lithic testament to the fire she had stoked.
"Oh gods... Fuyu..." she gasped, her body arching into his. "I shouldn't... we shouldn't..."
But even as she spoke the words of denial, her actions told a different story. She shifted her weight, grinding her rear into his lap in an involuntary seeking of friction. The friction ignited a conflagration within her, a heat so intense that it felt as though she were being consumed from the inside out. The wetness between her legs had become a torrent, and she knew that if she did not stop now, there would be no returning to the woman she was before this night.
And yet, as Fuyu's hands began to roam, moving from her stomach to the supple underside of her breasts, Nula found that she no longer had the will to resist. The shackles of her motherhood had been replaced by the chains of a far more potent desire. She was no longer just Nula, the mother; she was Nula, the woman, captured in the sinewy grip of a man who looked at her with an insatiable hunger.
"Tonight," she whispered into the dark, her voice thick with libidinous intent, "there is no world outside this hut. There is only you... and me."