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Meteorologically, a blue moon occurs every two to three years. It is when there are two full moons in a given month. The second full moon is called the Blue Moon. Scientist can explain and predict it.
But the believers in the black arts say their magic is more powerful when done under each of those full moons. And when it’s done under the Blue Moon, it can change lives!
Allen woke to find himself standing next to his bed. He was paralyzed. He tried but the only thing he could move was his eyes. But he could sweat; it ran off him in rivers. His pajama bottom clung wetly to his body.
The air was heavy, electric, with the acrid smell of ozone. It caused his eyes to burn and the hair on his arms to stand up. The other smell was his fear; he stank of it. His stomach roiled and rolled. His heart pounded loudly. He prayed it was a nightmare. He prayed he would wake up next to his sleeping wife. This is a nightmare, he thought, a very graphic nightmare.
Then he felt the presence of evil. It filled the room with a miasma of dread. His ears picked up a distant hiss and a rustle of flesh. A faint odor of the bayou…and the cold of a reptilian presence crept into the bedroom. The hiss grew louder! And there was the sound of a massive slithering body moving into the room.
He recalled the old crone’s curse. She said the snake god, Danbhalla Wedo, would visit and his family would be damned before all men. He wanted to scream…to ask for forgiveness…to plead for his wife and his son, but he was mute.
In the bed his wife lay sleeping peacefully. Danbhalla Wedo circled her bed. His head rose and the giant tongue flicked out at Allen. The instinct to flinch was there but his body refused the command.
To his right he heard footsteps. He tried to turn to see who it was and could not. The full moon streaming through the bedroom window provided the only light. A shadow moved across the room. The shadow resolved itself into the figure of his 18 year old son.
Allen was trying to scream to his son to help him when he noticed that Sam was naked. Sam’s cock was rigid, slapping lightly against his belly as he walked. He moved mechanically with slight jerks like a puppet on a string.
Despite the weirdness of the dream, Allen was angry that his son would parade around the house like this. He had stressed modesty above all to his son. The anger turned to horror as Sam stopped at the edge of the bed.
Allen’s wife languidly threw back the covers. Clotilde pulled her gown up exposing her shaved sex in the bright full moonlight. It gleamed wetly. A damp spot had formed under her as she secreted the juices of her arousal. Its aroma melded with the fetid swamp like odor and filled the room.
His son knelt on the bed. He reached out with a finger and roughly ran it the length of his mom’s swollen labia. It came away dripping with her essence. Sam raised the thickly coated finger to his mouth and licked it. His eyes began to gleam in an unholy lust.
Clotilde writhed at the touch of her son. Her hips pumped lewdly as her body felt the heat of lust suffuse her loins. She rose up and grasped his rigid member. She stroked it and then leaned forward and kisses the head. Using his tool like a leash, she pulled her son to her.
She placed his cock at the entrance to her birth canal. Sam thrust hard and entered her.
Allen screamed at the perverseness of this lewd scene. He strained mightily trying to move, to stop the carnal act of incest he was witnessing. His son thrust hard into his wife, snarling like some wild animal. In answer she wrapped her legs around his back, forcing him deeper in her love channel. The sounds of their rutting filled the bedroom. Their bodies shone in the moonlight as their incestuous efforts grew in depravity.
Allen heard the hollow cackle of an old woman. Despite his condition he felt a cold chill run down his spine. Another shape began to resolve itself from the shadows.
Horror enveloped Allen as the shadow resolved itself into a giant snake. His wife and son were fucking in the empty space formed by the coils of the giant snake. As coils of the snake tighten around this fornicating couple, the cackling grew louder.
His wife and son were screaming at each other, in the throes of their passion.
“Move you bitch! Take this seed I offer you!”
“Breed me! I want your child to grow in my womb!”
“Whore, you are mine and our issue will serve Danbhalla Wedo!”
In unison they screamed gaziantep escortları the name of the voodoo snake god. Their intensity of their fucking grew. The slapping of flesh on flesh, the squishy wet sound of an aroused and wet pussy assaulted Allen’s ears. It was as if the human part of them had been suppressed and they were animals, intent on breeding.
As tears rolled down his cheeks, Allen watched the coils of the snake tighten. The cackling grew louder. His wife and son became more frantic in their coupling, snarling and groaning.
As the coils of the snake touched their body, Sam released his seed deep in his mother. She screamed as the molten fire of his orgasm splashed hotly against her womb, forcing her own. Their bodies bucked against each other. Then they collapsed on top of each other. Their breathing was labored; their bodies had sheen of sweat that the full moon emphasized.
The body of the snake became more indistinct. It became a shadow again and gradually disappeared. The hollow cackling grew fainter.
Sam rose from his mother. Allen beheld the obscene sight of his son’s cock gleaming wetly with the combined juices of him and his mom. Allen could see his son’s seed oozing from his wife’s swollen pussy making a large wet stain on the pale blue sheets.
Allen lost sight of Sam as he walked past him and out the door. He heard the faint pad of his feet as he walked slowly back to his room.
His wife covered herself and appeared to go back to sleep.
Allen snapped up in bed. The smell of frying bacon wafted up from downstairs. He could hear the faint chatter of his wife and son. He grabbed a robe and raced downstairs to the sounds of normalcy. A nightmare, he thought a very bad nightmare.
“Good morning, sleepy head!” Clotilde said cheerfully
“What’s up, dad!”
“Hey gang! How’s everybody?”
Sam scooped up his back pack and darted for the door.
“I’m running late! See you guys later!”
Allen always expected to hear a faint clap of thunder as the air rushed into the hole left by his perpetually late son. This was real, he thought.
He walked up behind Clotilde and kissed her on the neck.
Clotilde was a native of Louisiana, born and bred. Her skin color and build reflected the melding of centuries of French, African and Indian blood. Her skin was the hue of walnuts; it glowed with a soft sheen. Her lips were full and sensuous with a deep brown tint; her hips large and sensual. Her breasts had the fullness of large ripe melons, they moved with a gentle sway when she walked.
Allen felt himself getting hard watching his statuesque mulatto goddess move about the kitchen. He moved behind her and began raising her house dress over the ripe fullness of her ass. He ground his stiff member against her ass. She was as alluring and intoxicating today as she was when they married 20 years ago.
“Watch it Tiger! You will get me going again like you did last night!”
“Last night?” Allen said tentatively.
“Yes, you were incredible!”
Unease crept into his gut. But he chose not to pursue the conversation.
Allen was a Midwest transplant. His blue eyes and dishwater blond hair were in sharp contrast to his wife’s golden hue. At 6′ 3′, 230lbs, he was a big guy. But like his son he carried his bulk well. Unlike his son he didn’t have that permanent tan his son had inherited from the blending of his mom and dad’s genes.
Even after 25 years in the area he felt apart from the semi mysticism of the bayou culture. Although they would strenuously deny it, even the college educated engineers who were native to the area accepted certain superstitious conventions.
That old hag Mama Desda was a good example. They secretly feared confronting her, cowed by the baseless threat of voodoo magic. Well he had taken care of that yesterday. He had taken a skiff over there. He made what he thought was a reasonable offer. She had refused it. He had pointed out that the state had imminent domain.
“I be heyah hunnert yeah or buttah. I be heyah nutha hunnert yeah.”
“Miss Desda you can’t stay! Now we have made arrangements with the state for you to stay at a really nice senior home.”
“Mon, you buttah listen! I make gris gris.”
“Miss Desda, I don’t have time for childish superstition.”
“Childish”, the old crone screamed, “childish! I am a descendant of Marie Leveau. In that bayou out there Danbhalla Wedo, gaziantep eskort the snake god resides and him protect me!”
“Look ma’am…I don’t have time for superstition”
Allen thought her eyes took on an odd look. They seemed to glow faintly. Her face became indistinct as though she stood in a smoky haze. She stared as though looking into his soul. Her arms were extended above her and moved in a large circle downward, meeting under her crotch. She grabbed handfuls of her ragged skirt. As she raised it slowly revealing spindly legs, wrinkled thighs and a hint of a grey pubic thatch, she danced from side to side.
“It is the month of the Blue Moon. For your blasphemy your family is cursed. During each of the full moons this month your son will lay with your wife. They will breed a child. That child will be known by all as the bastard son of incest. I conjure this by the power of Danbhalla Wedo.”
Allen recalled this encounter as he stood across from the old woman’s hovel. In the cold light of day, His nightmare seemed no more than a distant memory. He pushed the disturbing image of his wife coupling with their son to the recesses of his mind.
His nostrils were assailed by the fetid odor of decaying vegetation that emanated thickly from the brackish water. He thought the water seemed to heave slightly as though something was moving through it.
He was snapped out of his reverie by the arrival of the ambulance from the state senior citizens home.
Thank god, he thought to himself. I am becoming as superstitious as my coworkers
As they were discussing how best to handle Mama Desda, she walked from her hovel into the clearing. She raised her arms in the air. She began walking toward the waters of the bayou. She intoned a rhythmic chant.
“Danbhalla Wedo, I have served you well. Now take me to the place you promised when we made our pact!”
While the assembled ambulance workers, construction gang and Allen watched in horror, Mama Desda strode purposely into the stagnant water. It seemed to roil and spin as she moved waist deep.
Screaming at her to stop, Allen, his superintendent and a doctor piled frantically into the skiff. The outboard sprang to life as Allen pulled the starter. He was looking out the front of the skiff as the waters closed over Mama Desda’s head. When they arrived at the spot there was no sign of her. The doctor was getting ready to jump in the water, when they all saw a long dark shape move through the water and under the skiff. The skiff rocked violently as the shape bumped it.
The Board of Inquiry quickly exonerated the road construction company from any blame. The conclusion was that she was demented and had committed suicide. The company was cleared to continue construction of the causeway.
It had been a rough two weeks. Allen sat on the divan with a large Dewar’s on the rocks. He wore only a mid-thigh terry cloth robe. Clotilde sat on the floor between his legs. A one piece shift hung loosely over her lush body. A fire burned hotly in the fireplace. The night had turned off surprisingly chilly. The room was filled with the cold light of the second full moon that month. People called it the Blue Moon.
Her head was resting against her husband’s thigh. She languidly ran her tongue up his thigh sending thrills through his body. Her tongue flicked out and touched the tip of Allen’s dick, causing him to groan with pleasure. She kept her arms wrapped around his lower leg as she leaned over and French kissed the slit of her husband’s dick. She puckered and lightly kissed the head of his now rigid member.
“You been neglecting me!” she said huskily,” but tonight we make up for lost time. I have been counting; this is my most fertile time. Maybe we make that baby we been wanting!”
Allen groaned loudly as his wife took the head of his cock in her mouth. He felt her tongue roll slowly around it. He leaned down and cupped one of her full mammaries, reveling in the feel. As his hand slid down to her rock hard nipple, he saw her pussy glistening wetly, His nostrils inhaled the heady aroma of her aroused sex. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he recalled being told that the stronger scent of a woman’s secretions during arousal, the more likely she was to conceive.
Allen thought he heard a cackle. His head snapped back. He went to scan the room but he was frozen. The cackle grew louder. It was accompanied by a hissing sound.
Oh gaziantep eskort bayan my god, no, no, Allen thought wildly, this can’t be happening again!
He felt a presence, then the rustle of scales. A dark shape entered the room from the edge of his sight. The fetid odor of the bayou permeated the room. The shape resolved itself into the coiling body of huge snake. The snake filled the room as its coils tightened.
Please god, make it stop!
He watched his wife stand. His consciousness was almost overwhelmed by scent of her arousal. Obscenely, he could see a single drop of her wetness hanging luridly from her vaginal lips. Through his horror he watched it elongate and fall, almost in slow motion, to the rug. It was followed by another that formed on her swollen labia. It too elongated into a tear drop and then fell to the floor.
He could see her eyes. The pupils were fixed and dilated. She stared emptily up the stairs. Allen could hear the slow pad of bare feel on the hardwood steps.
Just behind his wife, in front of the blazing fireplace, another shadow formed. Its smoky outline became the semitransparent shape of a leering Mama Desda. She began doing the same dance she had done that day in the bayou. Her arms were extended above her head. She brought them down and around until they met below her crotch. Then she slowly raised her ragged skirt, revealing her wrinkled grey thatched sex.
Sam entered Allen’s peripheral vision. Again he was naked, his young cock dripping pre cum and pointing at the ceiling. Clotilde shucked her robe and turned to face their son. She reached out and grabbed her son’s tumescent tool. Her faced was twisted into a grotesque mask of lust as she slowly stroked it.
Sam’s hand moved languidly between the lips of his mothers’ flooded sex. It was covered in her juices. Slowly, in a grotesque pantomime, he brought his hand to his nose and sniffed it. A wanton leer covered his face as he licked his mom’s juices from his hand.
Sam and Clotilde embraced. She reached between them and pressed his rigid member between her legs. Their crotches ground lewdly against each other. Their tongues flicked out, snake like, and dueled from their open mouths, their saliva running down their chins.
They slid to the floor, their tongues still fighting outside their mouths. Sam lay back on the floor and Clotilde mounted him. Despite himself, Allen was rigidly hard. The animal lust being displayed by his wife and son was disgusting, horrifying yet intensely erotic. Mama Desda’s shade continued its obscene fertility dance. The snake was coiled about the room, its head behind her shade and tightening. It’s hissing and Mama Desda’s cackling filled the room.
Clotilde lowered herself onto her son’s massive cock. Now the sound of their incestuous copulating filled the air. Clotilde placed both of her hands on her son’s chest, bracing herself. Sam squeezed her tits roughly, eliciting squeals of pain and lust from his mother. The incredible scent of their arousal was overpowering. Allen felt himself riding the wave of their lust from his paralyzed seat above them.
“This pussy is yours, my son!”
“Yes, bitch, my pussy!”
“Fill it with your seed. Breed me!”
The shade of Mama Desda cackled.
Oh my fucking god, he thought, I am enjoying watching my wife and son fuck. I’m going to come!
Sam and Clotilde lust increased their pace. Suddenly they both screamed as their orgasm over took them. Sam thrust hard up into his mom. Clotilde’s thighs clamped hard against her son’s waist as she came and accepted his seed into her womb. In abject horror, Allen felt himself come, shooting his seed over his son and wife as they reached their orgasmic peak.
Still in their trance, Sam and Clotilde stood. Sam’s cock gleamed wetly with the combined juices of him and his mom. Allen could see his son’s seed dripping grotesquely from his wife’s pussy.
The shade of Mama Desda knelt and smelt Clotilde’s pussy. She cackled at Allen. Then she said:
“It is done! Your wife will have a daughter by your son. And when that child reaches womanhood, I will return and you will impregnate her. You, unbeliever, and your issue are damned for all time!!”
The shade and the snake began to fade to shadows. Sam, with his dad’s come covering his face and chest, turned and walked slowly back up the stairs. Clotilde knelt back between her husband’s legs. As the last vestiges of the evil duo faded and the acrimonious stench lifted, Allen’s paralysis passed. Clotilde looked lovingly up at her husband.
“Oh my god, baby, that was amazing! Do you think we made a baby?”
Allen wrapped his arms around his kneeling wife; hot tears ran down his cheeks. He mentally looked into his future as proclaimed by the old voodoo woman.
“Yes, my darling, yes, you are definitely pregnant!”
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