Boardwalk Empire nor any of its characters belong to me. I do not profit. Unfortunately.
In The Dark of the Night
BOARDWALK EMPIRE
The night is dark and the bed beneath them creaks with an age-old rhythm. The night covers his shame, and hers, if there is any.
None of it is wrong. Her mouth is greedy, insistent, impatient.
Yes, my darling boy,yes. Her moans are wild, fierce, begging.
Her naked skin blazing beneath him. She knows where to touch him, how to make him respond. After all, she is his mother. She knows Jimmy better than he knows himself.
None of it is wrong.Gillian murmurs into his ear, her smell, lilac water and alcohol eats through the booze-filled fog in his brain. A dam has been broken. He can't turn back.
None of it is wrong.
It IS wrong. It's bad. It's a sin… It's been coming, inevitably as the train thundering outside the boarding house window. Gillian's mouth smothers Jimmy's and he pulls away, instinctively, but she wraps her arms tightly around him, and his body forgets that the youthful body beneath him is his 31-year old mother. She's always seemed younger, as young as he was and now, she might be 18 years old, like him, passionate and full of desperation. She is wild in her need and his body responds, fueled by an anger he didn't know was inside him.
She was never a modest one, but all those moments in his childhood—a bare breast here, a naked thigh there—were too frequent to be coincidental. Healthy adolescence and images of his beautiful mother naked held him in a guilt-filled thrall through most of his teen years. She would lie next to him, a sheer nightgown doing nothing to mask the warm, velvety fullness of her breasts against his back, or the searing heat pouring from her middle.
Now her heat pulls him under and his anger forces him onto her, into her, over and over, until he is lost in the sense and sound and scent of her.
When time begins again, the night is still full, and her moans are high and sharp, and he feels her weight on top of him writhing, and he reaches up of take her heaving breasts in his hands, squeezing, pulling the nipples into mouth…
Angela?
But the breasts are too small and the hair is too short, and the memory floods back, but it's too late. His body wants her again. Jimmy pulls Gillian downward on his lap hard as he thrusts savagely upwards, filled with a dark insane glee to hear the sharp sounds of pain mixed in with the pleasure of her moans.
"Yes, my Jimmy, my darling, yes, don't stop…"
Tears stream down his face as suckles her as greedily as he must have when he was an infant. She arches her back, giving into him fully.
He begins to sob, unable, unwilling to pull out of her heat.
"Don't, my love," she croons, panting, thrusting, "Don't. None of this is wrong. We love each other. We were meant for each other. You will always be my sweet boy."
With a growl, he rolls her over, and climbs on top of her body, her leg over his shoulder, driving deep into her. He wants her. He hates her. He wants her.
"Oh, my darling son, yes, don't stop…"
He doesn't, not until the blackness takes him again.
In the morning, she is gone. What he has done is unthinkable. But it will happen again. And again. He already can feel his desire stirring. The rest of him feels nothing, has been obliterated. His heart and mind are numb.
His life as he has known it is over.
The sounds of marching boots pull him toward his new future. Only death can take away this night's doing and the shame within. Perhaps he will meet death with a smile.
~Hope you like it! Please review and comment!
Thanks, Velvia