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storm8000
04-06-2008, 03:24 AM
[LLP-373] A Mother's Forbidden Passion by Mary Jenkins


Chapter 1


Leaning forward on the rear seat of the taxicab, the tall statuesque
blonde woman kneaded her handbag with nervous fingers and stared out at
the familiar and yet strange streets and buildings of Westridge--a town
in which she had been born thirty--six years before, and which she had
not seen in five years.

Her name was Bette Clark, and she was a beautiful poised woman with the
ripe figure of a young girl: her breasts high and proud and perfectly
rounded, showed no sign of sagging, and her thighs, visible where the
hem of her short, ice-blue dress hiked up, were firm and tanned,
tapering into dimpled knees and slender ankles. Her hips, small and
boyish and yet curved provocatively, moved involuntarily on the seat in
her agitated state, and she kept moistening full, naturally pink lips
with the tip of her small, wet tongue. Her face was soft and lovely,
free of age lines, and yet it contained a certain gaunt quality, a
haunted quality that was mirrored by her large, expressive blue eyes;
once filled with laughter and gaiety, those eyes now contained a hidden
pain and torment that was deeply rooted.

As the taxi sped through the downtown streets of Westridge, Bette
wondered again--as she had done for perhaps the hundredth time in the
past week--if she wasn't making another mistake, an even bigger mistake
than the one she had made five years ago, in coming home again. Maybe
it would have been better if she had remained in Chicago, if she had
simply abandoned all hope for a return to normalcy and spent the rest
of her life living alone with her guilt and her shame. But that was not
the answer, she knew that--any more than suicide, of which she had
thought on more than one occasion, was an answer. No, she owed it to
Tony and to the memory of David, as well as to herself, to try to make
amends for what she had done, for her weakness.

Bette's mind wandered back those five years as it had during so many
waking hours recently, to the night she first met suave, sophisticated
Hale Bixby. She had been at a party alone--David had been out of town
on one of his business trips--and she had been drinking champagne, a
beverage which invariably put her in a gay, light mood. She had felt
like dancing, and Hale Bixby had been there, a smile on his handsome
face, saying the right words and making the right gestures, and she had
been drawn to him. At first the attraction was no more than one of
immediate fun--dancing, laughing and mild flirting. But then as the
evening progressed and she spent more and more time dancing in Bixby's
arms, felt his warm, hard male body close to hers, the attraction had
subtly changed into a physical craving. It wasn't that she had been
love-starved--David was a competent if unexciting and unimaginative
bed-partner, and even though he was away three and four days a week on
his sales route, he was always hungry for her body when they were
together. She couldn't really, even now, explain what had been the
cause of her growing desire for Hale Bixby: the champagne, the magic
atmosphere of a warm summer night and a party, the charm and
handsomeness of Bixby himself, were all a part of it, she supposed. And
yet, it was more than that. It was as if she had been slowly changing,
becoming something other than a faithful wife and a good mother to
their thirteen year old son Tony; it was as if there had always been a
wild streak in her, a lusting for excitement and adventure, repressed
over the years but now breaking through.

When Bixby casually suggested Bette go for a ride in his convertible
out by the lake north of town, her heart had pounded wildly in her
breast, and even though she knew it was wrong, she had said a
breathless yes to his proposal. She didn't want to go, and yet she did,
desperately. They slipped away from the party--discreetly, Bette had
thought at the time in her light-headed state--and drove in Hale's
brand new Dodge through the warm night. They stopped on a promontory
overlooking the lake, a lonely and deserted spot, and the moon had been
big and gold in the sky, and the crickets had sung, and when Hale
pulled her into his arms, she had no will to resist.

His lips and tongue had sent passion spiraling in demanding waves
through her body, causing her nipples to swell into rigid arousal, her
vagina to secrete droplets of her building excitement, and her arms had
clung to him as if she never wanted to let him go. Then he was drawing
her down on the seat, his hands caressing her breasts, her thighs,
further intensifying her arousal, and she had known with a dim part of
her mind that there could be no denying Hale Bixby--that she wanted him
as much as he wanted her.

They tore at one another's clothes, and then they were naked, moaning
and writhing on the seat of the car, and his penis was in her hand, a
huge throbbing shaft, much bigger than David's, filling her with wild
delight at its touch, and the prospect of it buried deep up inside her
hungrily needing belly. Bixby had kissed her breasts, nuzzling each
nipple, and his right middle finger had teased her clitoris then slid
lower and into the hot wet cavern of her womanhood. Bette had been half
out of her mind with desire as she fondled his thick hard cock, cupped
and caressed his sperm-filled testicles, and finally she had drawn him
on top of her, holding tightly to his cock, guiding the palpitating
shaft to the thin beardedly aching mouth of love between her trembling
thighs.

Then he was sliding into her, filling her, the head of his burgeoning
penis slamming hard off her cervix, and she went wild with the
sensations coursing through her flesh. The only man she had ever had
was David; she had been a virgin when they were married at the age of
eighteen, and while she enjoyed sex with her husband, it had become a
commonplace occurrence--same position, same foreplay, same and well-
known penis filling her vagina. And now she had a lover, another man
inside her, a real man with a monstrous strange to her, cock that drove
into her in dizzying strokes that filled the very core of her with
ecstasy. Never had it been this good, never, never! Bette locked her
thighs to Bixby's sweating mid-section, began to pound her heels on his
driving buttocks as her orgasm spiraled higher and higher as she moaned
out her delight and urged him on to greater strokes into the hot moist
cavern that was her clasping, secreting cunt.

And then she was there.

She was cumming!

She had cum before with David, but never in such spiraling dizzying
waves of bliss as those which washed over her now. She mewled and
clutched Hale tighter to her, her right hand sliding around his thigh
to locate the swinging sac of his balls. She tickled the bloated
testicles in mindless passion as her climax soared through her body,
and finally her manipulations triggered Hale's own cumming. His
pistoning cock began to ejaculate great hot creamy spurts of cum, wetly
inundating her cervix and splashing heatedly against the walls of her
churning pussy, and she could feel every molten stream shooting forth
into her, prolonging her orgasm until she thought she would go insane
with rapture.

Then finally, it was over, and their driving bodies were still. Hale's
penis pulled from her reluctant passage with a soft wet withdrawing
sound, and she could feel the deflating member leave a thin trail of
thick, hot moisture along the nakedness of her thigh and belly as he
rolled off her, pulled her close to him as they lay now on their sides.

"Oh Hale!" she whispered. "Oh darling, that was ... wonderful! I never
knew it could be like that!"

He kissed her neck then chuckled. "It's always like that with me, Bette
honey."

"Is it? Is it really?"

"I've never had any complaints yet--and no refusals of an encore."

Bette moistened her lips. then, before she could think, she was saying,
"You won't have any refusals from me either, darling. When can we meet
again? Just tell me and I'll be there, I'll be there in a minute,
darling ..."

Their affair had gone on for two blissful weeks, and Bette had never
known such happiness, such rapture. Bixby was true to his word; each
time she made love with him it was better than the last, and she was
not disappointed on a single occasion. A part of her knew that their
adulterous affair couldn't go on forever, that she would one day soon
have to make a choice between Hale Bixby and David and Tony, but she
was so giddyingly caught up in the ecstasy and excitement of her secret
love affair that she was unable to think rationally. She snapped at
Tony, denied David his marital rights when he came home and snuck out
every opportunity to meet Bixby. Nothing else mattered, not her home,
not her family--nothing except Hale Bixby deep inside her, his
monstrous penis ejaculating his hot seed deep into her belly again and
again and again ...

David found out about the affair at the beginning of the third week.

Bette had not been nearly as discreet as she had thought the night of
the party--which had been given by a good friend of both hers and
David's--and her nocturnal meetings with Bixby had for the most part
taken place in his hotel in downtown Westridge. Word had gotten around,
and David had heard it; shocked and disbelieving, he had confronted
Bette with the knowledge in their bedroom as she was slipping on her
coat preparatory to leaving "to go for a little walk."

At first she hadn't known what to do. Admit her guilt or deny it.
Confusion reigned in her. But then even though she did not want to hurt
David or Tony, ignoring the pain in his eyes, she had become defiant.
Nothing else in this world seemed at that moment to mean as much to her
as keeping Hale Bixby, as prolonging their blissful affair. Yes, she
was having a lewdly illicit affair, she had shouted at David. Yes, yes,
yes! And it was with a man who was twice the lover, twice the man, that
he was! She loved him, yes loved him, loved him as she could never love
David Clark ...

David had slapped her, his face contorted with pain and rage, and
called her a slut and a whore and a dozen other names. She had begun to
cry, but the defiance remained strong within her, for she had finally
admitted to herself as well as to her husband a fact that she had known
was true each of the previous fourteen days; she was in love, madly,
crazily, blindly in love with Hale Bixby.

Bette had run out of the house, gotten into her car and raced to
Bixby's hotel. She told him everything, about David finding out, how
much she loved him, how much she wanted to be with him and the rest of
the world be damned. Bixby had taken her into his arms, holding her
close, calming her, and then he had said, "Don't worry, Bette, we won't
have to be apart. I love you too, honey, and I want you with me always.
I'll take you away to Chicago."

Bette could hardly believe her ears. "Oh Hale! When? When darling?"

"At the end of this week," he said. "I've just about wrapped up my
surveyor's report on the new highway, and I should have everything
ready by Saturday. I was going to tell you to come away with me."

"Hale, is it true? Is it really true?"

"It's really true," he'd laughed. "Now you go home and pack your things
and tell your husband you're leaving him. Then you come back here. You
can stay with me until we leave."

Bette had obeyed, a deep glow of happiness within her that far
overshadowed the wrongness of what she was doing to David and to Tony.
David had been drunk when she entered the house and told him she was
going away with Hale Bixby, and he had been maudlin, crying in an
unmanly way, pleading with her to stay. She had been oblivious to his
entreaties, thinking of Hale, only of Hale, a real man, and she had
packed everything she wanted to take with her into three suitcases.
When she was ready to go, David was so drunk that he had passed out on
the couch.

And then Tony had come home from his Boy Scout meeting and seen her
packed bags and his father lying there, and his young face had clouded
with confusion. "Mom," he had said, "Mom, where are you going? You're
not going away, are you? Oh Mom!"

Her heart had gone out to him. In spite of her feelings for Hale, she
still loved her son, the product of her flesh, and she had taken him
into her arms and held him tightly, trying to explain to him that she
was in love with another man, that it was impossible for her to stay
there feeling as she did. But he had been so young then, and he hadn't
understood. Anger had flared in him, and he had cursed his mother and
then run sobbing from the room. Bette had taken several steps toward
his bedroom, crying a little herself, wanting to go to him, to explain
further, but then she remembered Hale Bixby waiting for her, wonderful,
loving, passionate Hale, and she had pivoted abruply, picked up her
bags and left the home she had helped to create for the last time.

Hale took her to Chicago at the end of that week, just as he had
promised, and her first three months in the huge metropolis had been a
merry-go-round of expensive nightclubs and restaurants, parties, trips
to New York and Bermuda, wild lovemaking, delirious happiness. She had
thought of David and Tony often in the very beginning, but as her
blissful existence with Hale continued, she thought less of her former
life, blotting it out of her mind. When she received the notification
from David's lawyer that he had filed for divorce, she experienced a
mild pang of regret and guilt, then nothing. The past was behind her;
there was only the future now, exhilarating and exciting, the adventure
she had always craved and now was embracing completely.

When the divorce was final, she married Hale in a lavish ceremony,
attended by dozens of his friends, and they bought a house in Oak Park
there. Time seemed to fly by, and Bette had never been happier, more
effulgent, in her life. Hale had inherited a considerable amount of
money when he was younger, and that, coupled with his huge salary as a
surveyor with the State Highway Commission, enabled them to live in
monumental luxury--to take an extended trip to Europe, to rub elbows
with movie stars and starlets, to become an integral part of the hectic
social whirl of metropolitan Chicago. It was a dream come true for
Bette, a Cinderella story.

And then suddenly, it had become instead a nightmare.

The beginning of the end, a little less than a year ago, had come in
the form of a telegram and two letters from David's brother, Ken Clark,
which she had received three weeks late upon returning from a Mexican
cruise with Hale. Her hands trembled when she read them and tears
spilled from her eyes. David was dead. He had been killed in an
automobile accident on the outskirts of Westridge.

She had called Ken immediately, and though his voice had been cold, he
had talked to her, listening to her explanation of why she hadn't come
to the funeral. He told her that Tony had moved in with him--Ken was a
widower who lived alone in the wealthy section of Westridge as a result
of his successful commercial artist's talent--and that the old house
was in the process of being sold. Bette had asked to speak to Tony, but
her son had refused to talk to her, saying loudly so that she could
hear over the long-distance phone wires that he never wanted to see his
mother again. Ken had quietly urged Bette to come home anyway to see
Tony, and she had said that she would. But she had never gone because
of guilt and her son's stinging words--and because of what happened in
her marriage to Hale Bixby.

She had sensed a cooling of Hale's ardor for her in recent months, but
she had attributed this to, simply, the passage of time; after all,
they had been together for four years, and the honeymoon couldn't be
expected to last forever. She was soon to discover, however, that there
was far more to it than that.

Hale began to spend more and more time away from home, to take
unexplained trips to distant places without her. Bette refused to
believe that he was being unfaithful to her, but the nagging thought
persisted until finally she did some quiet investigating on her own and
learned that Hale had been seen in Hollywood, Palm Springs and Acapulco
with a beauteous young red haired movie actress--that he was having an
open, wildly clandestine affair with her.

Bette had been crushed at first, refusing to accept the truth, knowing
that she had to. Then the bitter irony of it all struck her, for this
was the same situation she had placed David in those five years past;
now she was the one being cheated on. And as David had done with her,
she confronted Hale when next he came home--and he laughed in her face
contemptuously, a stranger whom she had never thought existed in the
body of the man she loved. He told her he was getting a divorce to
marry the red haired starlet, that he was taking everything to give to
the other woman and that, if Bette tried to countersue or to make any
trouble at all, he would see to it that she was dragged through the
messiest, cheapest, loudest kind of court battle on record. And if that
wasn't enough, there was always other ways of taking care of her ...

There was nothing for Bette to do. The change in Hale from a happy
carefree lover to a cold, sneering stranger frightened her, and she had
no doubt that he meant every word he said. She had tried appealing to
some of her friends only to discover that she had no real friends at
all--that all the acquaintances she had made while living with and
married to Hale were his friends, his kind of people. Once they knew
how things stood in the Bixby household, they were on Hale's side, not
Bette's, and she was suddenly completely alone with no one to turn to,
nowhere to go.

Completely demoralized, her world collapsed at her feet, Bette had
moved into a small Chicago apartment five months ago and had remained
there until two days ago. Hale had sent her a check in the mail for
five thousand dollars as if she was a whore whose services were no
longer needed and therefore was to be paid and forgotten. She had
wanted to send the money back to him, to refuse to allow him this one
final slap at her pride, but she had no funds of her own, no means of
support, and so she had swallowed what was left of her feelings and had
cashed the check.

Living alone, seldom going out, she had plenty of time to think--and to
repent. She realized that she had made a mistake in destroying the home
she and David had made, in denying his love and that of their son Tony,
that she had been a fool to think that Hale loved her so much as to
want her with him for the rest of their lives. She knew that there had
been other women, too, before the red haired actress--a long line of
women that she had been blind to the existence of during their
marriage; and she knew that the only reason Hale had kept her around as
long as he had was that he had not found a suitable replacement among
those women, not until the redhead came into his life. Oh God! What a
terrible romantic, naive fool she had been! She had given up happiness
for excitement and adventure, and now that there was no more excitement
and adventure, what did she have? Nothing--no husband, no home, not
even a son any more ...

Finally, Bette had reached her decision. She had known that her only
hope for salvation for even a glimmer of renewed happiness, lay in
returning to Westridge. But could she go home? Did she dare face Tony
again? And Ken? Yes, she dared--she had to dare. It was the only way.

She had written to Ken, not able to face the pain of a telephone call,
and he had responded immediately with a long-distance call of his own.
Bette knew that Ken had always liked her, that perhaps his feelings for
her had even at one time gone deeper than that, and she had always been
able to talk to him. She was still able to talk to him, she discovered,
and on the telephone that day she had poured out the entire sad, sordid
story, begging at the end of it for forgiveness, begging him to let her
come for a visit to see if she could find herself again. Ken had been
sympathetic and understanding; too many years had passed, he said, for
grudges to be held. People made mistakes every day, huge mistakes, and
as long as they were willing to admit those mistakes, to seek amends
for them, then they should be forgiven.

Tony had been less forgiving when he heard of his mother's plea to come
home. He hadn't wanted her home; he still held firm to his vow never to
see her again; this was what Ken had reluctantly told Bette in another
phone call. But Ken had gently worked on the youth's resistance, while
Bette waited expectantly in Chicago, not wanting to come unless Tony
wanted her, knowing that she wouldn't be able to face him otherwise,
and finally Tony had relented. Yes, his mother could come for a visit.
After all, it was his uncle's house, wasn't it? If he wanted her there,
then Tony guessed he did too.

Ecstatic, Bette had made all the arrangements and had left yesterday
afternoon for Westridge ...

Now, as the speeding taxi entered Westridge, nearing Ken's home, Bette
was once more assailed with doubts, and her nervousness increased. If
only Tony will forgive me, truly forgive me, she thought fervently, if
only he'll accept me again as his mother then I'll be able to stay in
Westridge and try to put together the shattered pieces of my life. But
if he won't, I'll have no choice but to leave again, return to Chicago
and never see Tony or Ken or Westridge again. There'll be no hope then,
no happiness, no future at all for Bette Clark.

The house where Ken Clark lived with his nephew Tony was a sprawling
ranch-style affair, set deep into the property behind heavy shrubbery
and tall redolent pines. There was a large swimming pool in the rear, a
cabana, rolling lawn and a flagstone patio, and privacy was assured by
high fence-like hedges on both sides and in the rear. It was
comfortable and affluent without being ostentatious, and its tasteful
landscaping and clean lines were indicative of the personality of its
owner.

In the huge beam-ceilinged living room, Ken paced nervously, casting
glances at his watch. He was a tall, muscular man with dark brown hair
worn long and shaggy in the current fashion; his skin was the color of
old leather from many hours in the sun, and his dark eyes contained
traces of humor and good nature, and now, worry and apprehension. His
lean, corded body was encased in a white polo shirt and beige slacks
and tennis shoes on this day.

Sitting on the couch before the stone and mortar fireplace at one end
of the room, Tony smoked a cigarette in short quick puffs and tried to
act nonchalant. He was taller than his uncle but with the same general
build, and his facial structure favored his father's side of the family
so that there was a superficial resemblance between him and Ken. His
dark hair was worn similarly as well, though longer, and his eyes were
an intense greenish-brown under thick brows that made him took older
than his eighteen years. His handsomeness, however, was more boyish
than distinguished as was Ken Clark's.

Pacing to the window, Ken looked again at his watch. Where is she? he
thought with thinly concealed anticipation. She should be here by now.
I wish she'd let me pick her up at the train depot, it might have been
better that way ... Ken moistened his lips and drew a deep breath,
releasing it slowly. What will she look like after five years? Will
Chicago and the life she's led have changed her much? Will she still be
as beautiful, as desirable as she was when she was married to David, as
I remember her?

He had thought of Bette off and on for the past five years since she
had left with Hale Bixby, and while his feelings toward her at first
had been bitter--and had later changed to sadness and curiosity and
perhaps a little pity--he knew that there was more to it than that,
that deep-down he was still a little in love with her, just as he had
been from the first moment he saw her those many years ago. Indirectly,
David had died because of her selfish whim, her foolish hedonistic
desire to run off with Bixby, and Tony had been left without a father
or a mother to guide him (it was a wonder he had turned out as well as
he had, having been subjected to life's more sordid aspects in his
formative early teens). Nevertheless, Ken still felt that strong
emotional desire for Bette. There had not been many women in his life
since the death of his wife Luci whom he had loved dearly, several
years ago. Only occasionally, when the need became too great would he
seek out a bed-partner for an evening, and when that happened, it was
only for a single evening. No other woman, with the exception of Bette,
had ever had a deep meaningful effect on Ken besides Luci. Oh, he was
struck by the beauty or sensuality of this one or that one, wanting
their bodies, but that was all he wanted to possess-- never any more.

Except perhaps, for Bette, the Bette he had known and coveted in his
quiet way more than five years ago ...

The thoughts which were revolving in young Tony Clark's mind were those
of doubt and youthfully irrational hatred which had had five years to
grow and become firmly implanted--and yet, ambivalently, there was also
a remembrance of the love he'd once felt for his mother, the adoration
of her beauty and her gentleness which had never been totally destroyed
by the hatred. Now, with the passage of five years' time, Tony recalled
many of the good things of his relationship with his mother--things
which he had automatically blocked out of his mind as he heaped the
full blame for the destruction of his home--and then for his father's
death--on her shoulders.

He wished he knew how he felt, deep down. Did he love her? Or did he
hate her? Did he want to see her again in spite of the vow he had made
never to do so? It must be that way, he must want to see her, or else
why would he have given in to his uncle's prodding insistence that they
allow her to come for a visit? She was a damned slut, running out on
him and Dad the way she had--or was she? Maybe Uncle Ken was right,
maybe she just made a very human and stupid mistake and was repenting
now for what she'd done and fully deserving of his forgiveness. A
person could only be punished so much for his sins, wasn't that right?
Maybe his mother had suffered enough ...

Tony twisted uncomfortably on the couch, finally got to his feet and
went to the window and looked out. The street, visible through the
front yard shrubbery, was deserted. He turned away, facing his uncle.

Ken looked at him kindly and smiled. "Nervous, Tony?" he asked.

Tony started to deny it then shrugged and sighed. "Yeah, I guess I am,
Uncle Ken."

"It will be all right, you'll see."

"I don't know," Tony said. "I hope so."

"Just remember that she's your mother and that in spite of everything,
she loves you. She told me that more than once on the telephone, Tony."

"She sure has a funny way of proving her love," Tony said bitterly.

"Look son, she knows what she's done, and she wants to come home. She
needs our help. We can't shut her out now. She's at an emotional crisis
point in her life, and if we reject her, there's no telling what might
happen."

"She rejected us, didn't she?"

"That was a long time ago. She knows better now."

"Does she really?"

"I think so, Tony; I really think so."

The handsome youth worried his lower lip, turning back to the window.
There was movement on the street now, a car--a taxicab--was drawing up
in front of the house. Tony felt a knot form in his throat, and he
choked it down. "She ... she's here," he whispered.

Ken looked out of the window then put a reassuring hand on his nephew's
shoulder, his own anxiousness thinly concealed on his face. "Let's go
out and meet her, shall we?"

"Okay.

Ken opened the door and the two of them stepped out onto the flagstone
porch area in front. They saw the blonde woman emerge from the taxi,
saw the vehicle drive away, and then she was coming through the front
gate carrying a single suitcase in her hand, her steps slow and
hesitant. As she approached, Ken felt his heart thudding in his chest
at the initial sight of Bette after five years' time; she was thinner
than he remembered her, her face drawn, her shoulders stooped with
inner torment and weariness. But she was still beautiful, the years had
been kind to her firm ripe body, and her long legs were beautiful
beneath the blue dress she wore. Ken's throat was dry, and there was a
curious fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach ...

Tony seemed to be frozen immobile by the figure of his mother. The
handsome teenage youth was torn between a sudden impulsive urge to turn
and rush back into the house--and an equally strong impulse to step
forward, greet his mother, take her into his arms as he used to do as a
child. There was so much pain in her face, in the way she walked; it
wasn't at all as he had expected her to look. Somehow he had had the
mental fantasy that she would be fat and overblown, that the years of
easy living in Chicago would have added weight and blowsiness to her
lovely body and face. Still, she was just a shadow of her former self,
of the happy, smiling, gentle woman he had known and loved, and the
sight of her brought emotion welling deep within him. Suddenly, with
crystal clarity, he knew that he couldn't, wouldn't reject his mother--
that she had been hurt enough, that she did need help and understanding
...

Bette saw the two men standing on the porch ahead, and her step
faltered, slowed even more. Then she regained her stride, her eyes wide
and shining, and moved toward them. As she drew closer she recognized
Ken's handsome quietly smiling face; he had not changed much, he was
still a strong silent man, a man she felt somehow close to--a good,
kind man. And then her eyes shifted, and she was startled momentarily,
her step again faltering. Tony? she thought. Tony? Is that really you?
You ... you were such an awkward little boy when I ... I left, and now
you're grown up, a man, a tall and handsome man. You look like David,
like David and Ken. Oh Tony, Tony ...

When Bette reached the porch, she stopped, looking up at the two men
there, and she could feel tears forming in her eyes. The three of them
stood uncomfortably in the silence of the summer afternoon, looking at
one another, only their eyes touching or moving. Bette wanted to smile
or speak, but the muscles in her face and throat seemed frozen. Tony
was staring at her with an expression of confusion and discomfort--but
without malice, without hatred. Bette's mind rejoiced, and Ken was
smiling quietly, his eyes bright.

At long last, Ken stepped forward and took the suitcase gently out of
Bette's fingers. Then softly he said, "Hello Bette, it's good to have
you back."

It was as if those words were a switch reactivating machines that had
abruptly come to a standstill. Bette stepped forward, and as she did,
Tony also moved toward her. Then, with a rush, Bette had flung herself
into the arms of Ken and Tony, crying openly and unashamedly, holding
to both of them as if she never wanted to let them go, saying, "Tony,
Tony, Tony," over and over again. And they held her, both of them, and
over her soft blonde hair, Ken met Tony's eyes, saw the compassion in
them, the glimmer of returning love, and he knew that everything was
going to be all right.

Bette whispered softly then, lifting her head and looking at each of
them in turn, "I'm glad I came, I'm glad I came home ..."



Chapter 2


Once Bette's things had been put away in the spare bedroom, and she had
freshened up after her long journey, the three of them sat on the
patio, where it was cooler, and drank iced lemonade, which Ken made in
two large pitchers. There had not been much said since the tearful
reunion on the porch, for a shy awkwardness still existed between the
three; but there was no more tension, and each knew that it was only a
matter of time before they could be easy and natural with one another.

Bette found herself looking again and again at the handsome face of her
son, and she felt a deep ache of pride and love and hope each time. The
finest moment in the past year--no, in the past five years--had been
the feel of his body pressed against hers there on the porch, for she
knew that she had not lost him after all--that there was still a chance
for togetherness, for renewal of the once powerful affection they had
once had for each other.

Bette sipped at her lemonade, truly at peace for the first time in
long, torturous months, and let her gaze wander over the rear yard of
Ken's home. She had been here before, of course, but it had been such a
long time ago that she had forgotten just how pleasant and comfortable
it was. In addition to the large kidney--shaped pool, the patio, and a
good-sized dressing cabana on the far side, there was a large expanse
of cushiony green lawn, a landscaped rock garden, even a small fountain
which seemed to draw birds of several different varieties, their
chattering and fluttering filling the quiet afternoon air. The porch
behind them was large, with windows facing out on the pool that were
covered by rattan curtains, and off on their left was an impressive
stone-and-mortar barbecue which Ken had built himself and of which he
was inordinately proud.

Yes, it was a beautiful, serene home, Bette thought, and it was too bad
that Ken had not taken another wife, after Luci's untimely death, to
share it with him. This was the kind of home where a woman could be
happy, could know peace and relaxation. Ken should be married again; he
was such a fine man, with so much to offer a woman, physically and
emotionally as well as materialistically ...

Ken leaned toward her, smiling, his face radiant. "You wouldn't happen
to be just a little hungry, would you, Bette?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, I am," she admitted. "I haven't eaten
anything since breakfast this morning ..."

"Good!" Ken enthused. "I've got three thick, juicy steaks in the
refrigerator, some French fries, and maybe a tossed salad. How does
that sound--steaks barbecued on the grill over there, of course?"

"Wonderful," Bette smiled.

"How about you, Tony?" Ken asked.

"I guess I could go for a steak," the teenager agreed.

Ken left Bette and Tony alone for the first time, and there was a
faintly strained atmosphere between them. Her son could not seem to
look her in the eye, and he fidgeted on his chair. Bette fervently
hoped that the uneasiness was only a temporary thing which would vanish
with the passage of time. Watching her son covertly, Bette couldn't
help but marvel at how handsome he had become, at the firm, muscled
contours of his young body, at the fluid, graceful way he moved and
carried himself. He was going to be even better looking than Ken--
certainly much more virile than David. Still, there was much of his
father in the way his mouth quirked at the comers, in the shy movement
of his hands, in the sensual lidding of his eyes--especially the eyes,
bedroom eyes, the girls had called them when she'd been a teenager. She
remembered how David had looked at her when he'd been in a loving mood,
when he had wanted to press her warm softness close to him and to slide
his hot, hard penis deep up between her open thighs and moan out his
love for her ...

Bette felt her cheeks flame red, thinking back to the lovemaking which
had existed between her and David. She stifled a low moan of despair
which threatened to erupt from her throat, and tried to block the
mental image of herself and her dead husband locked together in
unimaginative but still powerful desire. She couldn't allow herself to
think that way, not now, not when she had been celibate--a self-imposed
celibacy, while she tried to sort out the tattered remains of her life-
-for the past six months. And especially she couldn't allow herself to
think that way when she was looking at her own son, her beloved Tony.
What kind of woman was she to think such carnal thoughts in the
presence of her own flesh and blood?

Ken returned shortly with the steaks, and the strained atmosphere
dissipated. It was much easier when Ken was around, talking in his
quiet way, drawing both Bette and Tony into the coversation, forcing
them gently to speak to one another so that a camaraderie was built up
between them. He got a fire started in the barbecue, and soon the air
was filled with the smell of woodsmoke and with the succulent odor of
grilling meat. Bette insisted on helping, and Ken gave her the task of
making the salad while he supervised the progress of the steaks. Tony
set the round metal patio table for the meal, and there was an almost
party--like aura there by the pool as afternoon faded into evening.

Standing by the barbecue, watching Bette move to the table with the
salad, Ken was struck by her beauty--a beauty that pain and anguish
could never truly mar. The sight of her, the sinuous way her hips and
breasts and thighs moved beneath her dress when she walked, stirred
embers in him which had been too long cold, desires that were at once
deeply emotional and definitely physical. He was touched at the very
core of him by her unaffected sensuality, and there was a building fire
in his loins, the fire of burning need. God, he wanted Bette! He wanted
to possess her body, to hold her close, to whisper soft words into her
ear, to caress her and to love her. He knew he shouldn't be thinking
carnal thoughts about her, not now--perhaps not ever--and yet he
couldn't help himself; he was captivated by her, more now than he had
ever been, and the passion which seethed within him was volatile and
demanding. He couldn't do anything about it, of course, and yet ...
maybe, someday, he could ...

The steaks were delicious, the salad superb, and the meal itself a
complete success. The festive mood deepened as dusk settled. It grew
cool on the patio, and Ken suggested that they retire to the living
room.

Tony built a crackling fire with pine logs in the stone-and-mortar
fireplace, and when it was warm and cheery in the large room, he turned
the lights down. They sat in quiet contentment before the blaze for a
time, not speaking, thinking their own thoughts as darkness blanketed
the house outside and crickets and tree frogs began singing in the
shrubbery and grasses. Then Ken said almost shyly that he had a
surprise for Bette and hurried out of the room, only to return moments
later with two chilled bottles of imported champagne in a silver ice
bucket.

"What's a homecoming celebration without champagne?" he said lightly.

"Oh Ken ... you shouldn't have," Bette whispered.

"But I wanted to," Ken told her simply. He smiled at her, then said to
Tony, "Will you do the honors, nephew?"

"Sure," the youth eagerly replied. He worked quickly with a corkscrew,
opening one of the bottles, and deftly poured some of the bubbling
liquid into three long-stemmed glasses. Bette, watching him, was filled
with a glowing pride at the sure movements of his hands--the movements
of a man--and she was struck then with a terrible sense of loss for not
being there to watch her son, her own flesh and blood, grow from a boy
into the handsome, almost adult which he now was.

Ken said, "A toast, to Bette ... and to her homecoming."

"To ... Mom," Tony said.

"And to you both," Bette added, her words thick with emotion.

They raised their glasses and there was a brief, embarrassed moment,
then they all drank. The festive mood heightened, and it was as if
there had never been a five-year hiatus in their relationship, Ken
thought happily, as if they were a close-knit family group that had
never been separated by tragedy and human folly ...

The champagne seemed to make Tony loquacious. He told his mother how he
had caught the pass which won for Westridge High School the conference
championship this past year; that he was thinking of entering State
next fall, hopefully on a football scholarship, and planning to study
Engineering; that he was going steady with a girl named Debbie Mason,
who was beautiful, and that things were pretty serious between them.

He was just starting to voice some of his views on the current
political situation, and Ken was pouring more champagne into their
glasses, when the doorbell rang.

Ken frowned, glanced at his watch; it was almost eight-thirty. Now, who
could be calling at this hour? He sighed, excused himself, and went to
the door, opening it. Standing on the flagstone porch outside was a
petite and yet well-endowed and firmly rounded girl of Tony's age. She
wore hot pants, revealing slim, tanned legs, and a summer blouse
without sleeves, and her jet black hair was worn long, caressing her
shoulders, wisps curling down to touch the full, pear-shaped globes of
her breasts. She had an hourglass waist and a round, smooth face, with
high cheekbones and a pixieish nose; her eyes were a hot, frank brown,
very large, containing a smoldering intensity that told of thoughts and
emotions far exceeding her eighteen years--a feral look that was
enhanced by the richness of her breasts and the tautness of her
buttocks beneath the thin material of the hot pants.

She was Debbie Mason, Tony's girlfriend.

Ken did not particularly like the lovely teenage girl--he thought she
was a bitch at heart, that she was a conniving little wanton who cared
about nothing and no one but Debbie Mason, and Debbie Mason's pleasures
and happiness, and he wished that Tony had not begun to talk of a
permanent attachment to her. She would hurt him in the long run, Ken
felt that instinctively--but he had not tried to interfere, knowing
that Tony would have resented any intrusion into his private life;
still, he hoped that his nephew would find out the truth about Debbie
one of these days, and soon ... before it was too late.

In spite of his dislike for Debbie, Ken still felt an involuntary
quickening of his breath, a pounding of his blood, at the sheer
sexuality the young girl exuded. He couldn't keep his eyes from
straying over her breasts, over the clearly-defined cleft of her pussy
displayed by the too-tight shorts as she thrust her hips forward
provocatively. Then he shook his head slightly, feeling his neck flush
with embarrassment, and snuffed out the impossibly lewd ideas which had
leapt unbidden into his brain.

He put on a reluctant smile of welcome, said, "Hello, Debbie. How are
you tonight?"

"Just fine, Ken," she replied, and he knew that she was laughing at
him, mocking him, by calling him by his first name.

"Did you want to see Tony?" he asked her coolly.

"Yes, I did. If it's all right," Debbie answered, and her even white
teeth flashed in a knowing smile, for she was well aware of the effect
that she had on Tony's uncle and the knowledge that he secretly wanted
her sexually was perversely satisfying; she was a girl who needed,
coveted, the attention of all men. And he was handsome, she thought,
even more handsome than Tony. She wondered speculatively if he was good
in bed, and if he had a big cock--an even bigger cock than Tony had,
maybe, and Tony's was huge and felt like a log deep up in her belly ...

"Won't you come in, Debbie?"

"Thanks, Ken," Debbie said, and stepped past him, allowing her breast
to brush across his arm as she did so. Ken shivered slightly, and then
guiltily fought down a renewal of his sexual fantasies; damn, what was
the matter with him tonight? He had always been able to control himself
in the past, his cravings and desires. Perhaps it was the champagne ...
or perhaps, more probably, it was the arrival of Bette, the nearness of
her that had bestirred the long-still fever inside him ...

Ken followed Debbie into the living room, and introduced her, again
reluctantly, to Bette. The lovely blonde mother shook hands with the
girl, and as she did so she felt a sudden dampening of her spirits. So
this was the girl Tony had talked so glowingly of. Why ... why, she
seemed like nothing but a little slut! Displaying herself in those
tight shorts, acting haughty and aloof but certainly not fooling Bette
with her attitude; the lovely blonde mother had seen a lot of girls
like Debbie Mason in Chicago and environs, and they were all mercenary,
hard-hearted individuals who used their youthfully sensuous bodies and
their allure to get whatever they wanted. Debbie fitted perfectly into
that category, and even though Bette tried to tell herself that she was
over-reacting, she experienced a growing tide of resentment and dislike
nonetheless.

"How do you do, Mrs. Clark?" Debbie said.

"Fine, thank you," Bette answered.

"I imagine you're very happy to be home after ... well, after
everything."

Even though Debbie was smiling sweetly, Bette sensed a hidden
undercurrent of malice in the girl's voice. She kept her own voice even
as she replied, "Yes, I'm very happy to be home."

Tony crossed to the lovely black-haired teenager and put an arm
possessively about her shoulders, kissing her cheek. He grinned
happily, looking at Debbie with the love he obviously felt for the girl
plainly mirrored on his big handsome young face--a look that made Bette
turn away. "What brings you here tonight, honey?"

She smiled up at him. "Well, I know you told me your mother was coming
home today, but I talked to Dan Krauter a little while ago and he
reminded me of the Book Fair they're holding tonight over in Billings.
I know how much you wanted to go, because there'll be used textbooks
that you can use in college in September--and I kind of wanted to go
myself. It closes at eleven, which is plenty of time if you still care
to drive over, and so I thought I'd come by and mention it to you."

"Gee, I forgot all about the Book Fair," Tony said. "I would like to
go, but ..." He looked at his mother. "Well, I don't think I can make
it, Deb. Mom's home now and we're having a kind of celebration ..."

"Oh please, Tony," Bette said quickly, wanting to please him, wanting
him to know that she was on his side. "If you want to go to the Book
Fair, you go ahead. I understand perfectly."

"I don't know ..."

"Books are important, very important, and if you have a chance to pick
some up cheaply you should do so," Bette told him. "Why don't you and
... Debbie go ahead?"

"Thanks, Mrs. Clark," Debbie said sweetly. "Well, Tony, shall we go?"

"I guess so," Tony replied. "As long as it's okay with Mom. And Uncle
Ken."

"I think you should," Ken said, for he wanted, suddenly and acutely, to
be alone with Bette. He felt a sense of impending excitement that he
couldn't exactly define, a need to explore his relationship with his
dead brother's lovely blonde wife, a need to be close to her with no
one else around. It was a physical need as much as it was an emotional
one, a product of his long-repressed feelings and desires for this
woman who had been married to his brother, and even though he tried to
tell himself that there could be no real intimacy between himself and
Bette--tonight, maybe never--he couldn't rid himself of the growing
fires of desire which suddenly flamed within him.

It was decided that Tony and Debbie would go to the Book Fair in
Billings, and Bette and Ken walked the teenagers to the door. Once
there, Tony seemed to want to kiss his mother, and she hoped fervently
that he would do so; but instead, he just touched her hand and said,
"Good night, Mom," and Bette knew that things were not yet back to any
semblance of true normalcy--though she felt that the chance that they
would one day be was strong and very real.

When Debbie and Tony had gone, Ken sighed and took Bette's arm, the
touch of her flesh sending little shivers of delight through him, and
guided her back into the living room. "How about some more champagne?"
he suggested as they sat down facing the fire again.

"All right," Bette answered, and Ken poured their glasses full. They
drank, then she said, "Ken, I don't like that girl ... that Debbie. I
don't think she's ... right for Tony."

"Neither do I," Ken admitted.

"Is he really serious about her?"

"I'm afraid he's getting that way."

"Isn't there anything we ... you can do to dissuade him?"

"I don't think so. He's a pretty stubborn boy when he thinks something
is right, and at the moment he thinks Debbie is right."

"Has it gotten to the marital stage yet?"

"No," Ken said, "but it may be pretty close."

"She's ... well, she's pretty obvious, Ken. Do you know what I mean?"

"All too well," Ken answered.

Abruptly, Bette laughed--a soft, bitter, painful laugh. "Look who's
calling the kettle black," she whispered. "What right do I have to
judge other people, after the mess I've made of my own life."

"That's all in the past," Ken comforted her. "There's the future to
look forward to now, and that will all be different."

"Oh, I hope so, Ken. I hope so desperately."

"It will be," he said positively. He raised his glass. "To the future,
Bette ... to your future, and to Tony's, and to mine."

"To the future," she replied, and they touched glasses and drank.

They had two more pourings of the effervescent liquid, emptying the
first bottle, and Ken opened the second. He could feel his entire body
growing warm with heat that had nothing whatsoever to do with the
crackling fire before him. His breathing grew somewhat irregular, and
he moved closer to Bette on the couch. There was a deep tingling in the
pit of his stomach, down low in his groin, and no amount of mental
urging would dispel it. He could no longer deny the obvious: he wanted
his brother's wife, he wanted her now, tonight; it was almost as if he
had to have her or else he would explode with the seething passions
spiraling through his flesh ...

The more Bette drank of the champagne, the more warmly contented she
began to become, putting thoughts of Debbie Mason completely out of her
mind, reveling in the feeling of being wanted, cared for, at last after
all the months of desperate loneliness. She felt happy, excited, with
the potential salvaging of some of what she had lost when she made her
foolish decision five years past. And not only these emotions and hopes
and joys were once again living inside Bette Clark, another, baser need
began to make itself felt in her mind, a restless wanting that she had
not allowed herself to feel since Hale Bixby had forced her out of his
home and his life, but which was reborn strongly in her present mood.

She had not had sex, had not had the release of her strong sexual
passions, in six full months. She needed, wanted, a man--right now.

Bette moistened her lips, recklessly draining more of the champagne.
She was completely, painfully aware of Ken sitting next to her--
handsome, quiet, virile Ken, who resembled David so much, who had a
lean, hard-muscled body just as David had had, who possibly would be a
far better lover than David had ever been ...

No, no! Bette thought. Oh God, no, I can't think like that, I can't!
He's almost like a brother to me, and he's been so kind and good these
past few weeks ... and before that, too, taking Tony in, giving him a
home ... I could destroy everything if I let my feelings run away with
me, I could make him hate me, make him turn me out and away from Tony.
No, as much as I might want a man, want Ken at this moment, I can't ...
I can't ... I have to stop thinking about such things because they're
impossible, completely and totally ...

Suddenly, Bette felt the pressure of Ken's warm, masculine thigh
against her own as he moved closer to her on the couch, and she turned
to face him. His eyes were shining, his cheeks flushed and sheened
lightly with perspiration, and his gaze locked and held with her own.

"Bette, oh Bette ..." he whispered huskily.

"Ken," she responded, and she said his name with a kind of awed
incredulousness, as she realized that the same thoughts and feelings
she had just been thinking were mirrored on his face, had been in Ken's
mind as well. He wanted her! He wanted Bette as much as she wanted him!

Ken, too, was aware of the growing excitement in Bette, and his heart
leapt joyously. Incredible as it seemed, she felt the same as he did,
the attraction was not all one-sided--Bette was hungry for his flesh,
just as he was for hers! He ached to touch her, to caress her firm,
full breasts, to tangle his fingers in that soft, soft blonde hair as
he kissed her pink, soft lips; he ached to press her voluptuously
curved body tight against his own, to love her, to fuse their bodies
together in the ultimate expression of feeling. It was crazy, it was
irrational, and yet he was powerless to stop the surging passion, the
wild need, which consumed him, especially now that he knew how Bette
was feeling at this moment. His penis jerked into slow arousal in his
trousers, and his testicles began to throb with building sperm as he
stared into Bette's eyes, irrefutably saw the desire growing there as
it was growing in his own eyes. Neither of them could deny their
passion to the other, not now, not and have it believed ...

Simultaneously, they both leaned forward to place their empty champagne
glasses on the coffee table. Then they leaned back against the couch
again, their bodies turned toward one another, and continued to lock
their eyes together. Bette squeezed hers tightly shut then, wetly
parted her lips, and Ken could hold himself in check no longer. His
arms lifted and pulled her to him, his mouth covered hers, completely
engulfing her lips with his warm, moist ones. Bette's tongue flicked
forward immediately to slip past his teeth and into his mouth, and she
was moaning now, her hand encircling his neck, pressing his head
tightly, molding their mouths together like the fusing of molten ore
into an alloy. His fingers caressed her shoulder, moved down as if they
were entities of their own that he had no command over, moved lightly
over the trembling hot swell of her breast. Their tongues were sawing
mercilessly in and out of one another's mouth now in an attitude of
excited copulation, and Bette made tiny, mewling sounds in her throat.

Ken felt his cock stir into full, turgid hardness, and he pulled her
tighter to him, reveling in the feel of her body, her mouth, for the
first time, thinking wildly that she was everything he had ever thought
she would be, that he had loved her all along, that nothing else
mattered but her--all of her, every cell of her. His fingers closed
over her soft, resilient breast, kneaded the warmly trembling flesh,
his prick throbbing painfully now, his breath shuddering hotly into the
beautiful blonde woman's mouth as hers was thundering into his, deep
moans of desire purling from the very core of Bette's being.

She knew that this was wrong, that she ought to stop it before it was
too late, but she did not want to stop it, she wanted it to happen, she
wanted Ken to make love to her as she had wanted no man since Hale
Bixby in the early days of their relationship. What's the matter with
me? she thought dizzily. Am I really that much of a slut that I can't
control myself the first night I come home ... oohhh but it's been so
long, so long, and my pussy is on fire for Ken ... I can't wait to feel
his penis inside me, I can't wait ...

Ken guided her down on the soft couch, and now his right hand was
sliding upward along her bare thigh, sliding along the hot skin up
under the hem of the ice-blue dress she wore. Higher and higher it
moved, causing Bette to shiver with her mounting passion, and then the
tips of his fingers were touching the smooth nylon crotchband covering
her vagina, slipping up and down the hotly moistening furrow as she
widened her legs to assist his ministrations.

Ooooh, his fingers feel so good, they feel so good between my legs!
Hurry, Ken! Ah God, hurry and finger fuck me!

Ken's probing fingers, as though anticipating her thoughts, pushed
aside the flimsy elastic legband of her panties, extending his middle
finger to slip it teasingly up into the wet, trembling passage of her
pussy, exulting in the fevered thought that she would soon be his, that
he would be putting his cock where his finger was right now very, very
soon. He brought the finger up, up along the burning wetness of her
passion-drenched cunt to the hardened bud of her clitoris, playing with
it, reveling in the feel of her softness and the vibrating arousal of
her firm, perfectly curved body, his breath exploding like the juices
of orgasm from his mouth into hers, his tongue fucking between her lips
mercilessly.

Then Ken removed his working finger from her clasping hot channel, and
his fingers were feverish as he sought to make her naked, to remove the
dress and undergarments which clothed the hot flesh that he lusted so
desperately to see and touch. The dress unbuttoned easily, and Bette
dazedly helped him pull it over her head, drop it onto the floor at the
foot of the couch. Her bra was next, cascading onto the puddled dress,
revealing the hard-nippled, quivering mounds of her full, whitely
rounded breasts; then her panties, drawn slowly, slowly down over her
smooth curved hips and thighs by Ken's eager fingers, while Bette
obediently raised her buttocks from the couch to help him. At last her
soft, fleecy blonde pubic triangle came into view, wet with the juices
of her arousal, then the petal-like, softly blonde-fringed expanse of
her moist hot cunt was in full view of his loving, passion-fired eyes.

The sensuously aroused woman felt spasmodic little jolts of pleasure
ripple through her flesh as Ken moaned and his big hands closed over
her taut, firm breasts. She heard him gasp in further delight as his
thumbs rolled over the large, distended, pink-tinged nipples, making
them hard--and then she felt his head lower onto her chest, felt his
hot, wet mouth encompass one of the aching peaks, flicking and rolling
it maddeningly with his fiery tongue. She groaned in sheer delight, and
her hips began an intense, undulating rhythm on the couch as Ken
continued to suck hungrily and wetly at her nipple while he moved on
the couch beside her, groaning out his excitement at her perfectly
preserved womanhood.

His hands and mouth left her flesh then, and Bette, with mounting
fervor, knew that he was making himself as naked as she was, that she
would soon feel Ken inside her, that she would soon be loved again,
loved again, needed again ...

"Ooooohhh!" she moaned in wild abandon. "Ooohhh, Ken darling, hurry,
hurry!"

Her eyes fluttered open in that moment and she looked at him, saw him
kneeling on the floor beside her, saw him naked for the first time. Her
gaze moved down his corded, lean body and came to rest on his loins--on
his thick, turgid, blood-swollen penis standing out hugely, proudly
from his dark-haired lower abdomen. She drew in her breath sharply, her
eyes going wide. God, it's so big! she thought in further ecstasy, her
thighs opening and closing spasmodically at the prospect of soon having
such a huge, pleasure-giving shaft slicing hotly up between them. It's
so much bigger than David's, so much bigger even than Hale's ...
oooohhhh, I can't wait to feel all of that inside me, I'll go out of my
mind if I don't have it pretty soon ...

"Bette," Ken whispered, "my darling, Bette, oh Bette, I love you, I
want you so much!"

"Hurry, Ken, do it to me, do it to me now!"

The handsome uncle of her teenage son raised up onto the couch, settled
his hirsute body beside hers, and his head dipped down once again to
her whitely quivering breasts. She moaned softly with lewdly unleashed
desire as she watched him take first one nipple, then the other into
his warmly salivating mouth, licking and sucking the rigid fruit until
she wanted to scream from the waves of pleasure washing through her
fevered body. Her hand searched down between their tightly clasped
nakedness, located the rock-hardness of his cock. He gasped as the hot,
searing tips of her fingers closed over his rigid shaft, and then his
mouth lifted and closed over hers and their tongues lashed and twirled
one another, as if trying to blend into one. She crushed the full
length of her body against his and ground her pelvis hard into him,
then twisted suddenly, pulling him over on top of her, opening her legs
wide as they would go, her soft, hot cunt flared open, secreting the
fermentations of her desire, waiting for his invasion of her soft,
moist recesses.

Bette's hands were running wildly up and down along his body, tracing
the hard muscles of his shoulders, the cleft of his back, the hard,
muscular buttock cheeks, exploring all of him. His prick rested hard
now, trailing web-like threads of semen against her thighs, pressed
into the narrow, hair-lined slit of her open pussy. She arched for a
moment, levering their entwined bodies up with the strength of her
back, reached around under her buttocks then with both hands and with
her long, well-manicured fingernails spread her vaginal lips slowly
apart, giving his cock greater contact with the moist, sensitive flesh
as it lay cradled down into the full length of her wet, throbbing
furrow. She relaxed, dropping her body back to the couch, her ex-
husband's brother's turgid shaft trapped hotly between her moist hot
thighs.

He forced his hands between her shoulders and the bed and ran them down
the soft curves of her spine and hips, making little mewling sounds
deep in his throat to match the ones she was gasping forth. The raised
ridges of her spine felt hot to him as she undulated her magnificently
proportioned body against him in slow, teasing rhythm. Muscles rippled
lightly just under the thin tanned skin, giving testimony to the feline
power she possessed--a woman built for sensual pleasure, needing it in
order to survive, loving it and embracing it. The tenseness of the
cords in her thighs pressed against the outside of his hips, and he
wondered vaguely how they would grip him moments from now, when he sent
his rock-hard cock burrowing far, far up into her quivering, waiting
belly.

Breathing raggedly, his brain aflame with lusting desire, Ken pushed
his hands farther down beneath her, cupping the fullness of her
buttocks in the palms of his sweat-slick hands, pulling her dampened
furrow hard against his masculinity. He moved up and down the fiery
slit, sensing it grow hotter and wetter as her passion seethed out of
her. Her hips began a more desperate rotation up against his loins
until her legs, without warning, snaked out side on either side of him,
her calves hooking over and locking against the back of his thighs,
pulling him tighter to her in a crab-like position.

"Oooooaaaahhhhhhh!" she wailed in delirious ecstasy. "Ken ... Ken,
darling, do it to me, put it up inside me ... let me feel your cock
inside me ... I want to feet it, darling, give it to me now, right this
second!"

Her pelvis was grinding forward as she spoke, and her hands were
already between their bodies, circling his palpitating shaft to guide
it between the moist lips of her hot, eagerly waiting pussy. Ken
groaned animally as he felt his ex-sister-in-law's hands move his
hardened cock up and down between her widely splayed legs, running the
full length of her soft, moist crotch, parting the wet blonde fleece of
her vagina with the blood-engorged tip. The pressure in his testicles
was excruciating now, and he knew he couldn't hold back another second.
He had to ram it, deep and hard inside her hotly waiting cunt, just as
she wanted him to do! He had to fuck her!

Ken flexed his hips with a sudden driving thrust that drove his huge,
rock-hard penis deep into the gaping wet mouth up between her
voluntarily parted thighs, drove it into her hotly constricting belly
with a flesh-splitting force.

"Uuuuuuuuaaaahhhhhhh!" Bette squealed beneath him, but it was the
scream of thankfulness, of ecstasy, rather than the scream of pain.

Ken felt the smooth pulsating cunt walls slip wetly, hotly, around his
fleshy rod, consuming it as it raced to the full depths of her vaginal
sheath, the copiously seeping walls lubricating the way. Suddenly, the
full length of his immense hardness was buried inside her, the swollen
head thudding harshly off the moist delight of her waiting cervix, his
balls slapping with a resounding staccato sound against the nakedly
mooned cheeks of her ass. Then, having conquered her with every thick
inch of his maleness, he began immediately to fuck into her squirming,
pliant flesh beneath him, his body attuning itself to hers as she
fucked her hungrily clasping pussy desperately back up against him,
matching his strokings, urging him on harder and faster with tiny
passionate purling sounds as she licked and suckled his ear, panting
hot wet words of encouragement into it. "Mmmmmmmm, that's it, darling,
that's it, aaaahhhh, that's the way I want to be loved, deep and hard,
oh Ken, I love the way you fill me up, I can feel every inch of your
cock, darling, sweet, keep doing me harder, harder, harder, aaahhh
...!"

And she thought, It's beautiful, it's so beautiful, this is the best
it's ever been, oh Ken, I love you, I love you, I love you ... it's so
perfect, so perfect, nothing can spoil it now, I feel alive again,
truly alive, and nothing can spoil it now ...

* * *

As far as Tony was concerned, the Book Fair in Billings was a fat
disappointment. They had nowhere near the selection their
advertisements had promised, although, as Debbie pointed out, it was
pretty late in the day and maybe they had done a whopping good business
earlier. Still, Tony found only one book that he could use--an
Engineering text that he saved only two dollars on--and as he and
Debbie prepared to leave after only half-an-hour of browsing, he found
himself wishing he had stayed home with his mother and his uncle Ken.
After all, today was a kind of special occasion, and it was only proper
that he spend the time with his ... family.

He felt a faint, warm, inner glow as he drove his lime green Corvette,
a present from his uncle when he'd graduated from Westridge High that
June, out of Billings and onto the two-lane road which connected the
two towns five miles apart. He knew, with a sense of well-being, that
the glow was a result of seeing his mother again, of having her home
once again, in spite of all she had done to him and to his father in
the past. Things were very clear in his mind now; he knew that he had
been wrong to turn so completely against his mother, for her guilt and
her repentance were plainly evident in her face and in her eyes, and
Tony was compassionately aware--as his Uncle Ken was--that Bette Clark
had suffered more than enough for her sins. He was ready to forgive her
now, for he had discovered, that afternoon and evening, that he still
loved his mother, had loved her all along, and wanted to be with her
and help her from now on ...

Tony drove swiftly, as he liked to do; he was a good driver, and the
Corvette responded to the deft, sure commands he placed on the gleaming
sports car. Debbie leaned close to him, pressing her thigh against his
across the chrome console, pressing her swelling soft breast against
his arm, and he could smell the fragrance of her jet-black hair as she
snuggled her head onto his shoulder. The handsome teenage youth felt
his breath catch in his throat at the nearness of the beautiful,
provocative girl, and he felt a fresh surge of the love and desire he
had come to feel for her. He was the luckiest guy in Westridge, maybe
in the whole state, to have such a warm, passionate, lovely woman as
Debbie Mason was, and his heart threatened to burst with pride every
time he was seen with her. He couldn't wait to make her his wife, to
settle down into a home with her and have two or three kids--an
existence that would make him blissfully happy for the rest of his ...

Debbie whispered, "Tony, sweet?"

"Mmmm?"

"Let's go up to Lookout Peak and park for a while." Her voice was husky
and soft, and she rubbed her breast against his arm like a cat.

"Gee, Deb, I don't know. I want to get home tonight. Like I told you,
it's kind of a special occasion ..."

"Sweetie, let's park for just a little while," Debbie insisted. "I'm on
fire for you tonight."

"Deb, we're going out tomorrow night. We can go up to the Peak then,
and--"

"Tony, baby, my pussy is wild for your cock right now," she breathed
throatily. "I'm hot as hell for you."

"Deb ... I wish you wouldn't talk like that," Tony scolded her. "You
know I don't like it."

"You liked it Monday night," she giggled. "You liked it when I told you
how I wanted to take your big cock in my mouth and suck on it like a
..."

"Deb!"

"Oh, all right, you old prude," she pouted.

"Deb, I want you too, you know that. I can't get enough of you, honey.
But ... well, tonight just isn't a good time. Try to understand, okay?"

"I understand," Debbie said coolly.

"I'll make it up to you tomorrow night, I really will," Tony told her,
feeling a stirring of desire in his loins, for the sexuality she exuded
affected him like an aphrodisiac every time he was with her. "I'll do
it to you three times, in three different positions, and then I'll eat
you up, I'll eat all of you up!"

Debbie giggled again, delightedly, forgetting her pout. "Promise,
sweet?"

"Promise!"

"Okay, then," Debbie said, and rubbed her breast against his arm
kittenishly again. "I can hardly wait ..."

They reached Westridge and drove through the quiet dark streets. When
they neared Ken Clark's home, Tony said, "Listen, Deb, why don't you
come in for a few minutes before I take you home? You can have a glass
of champagne, and get to know my mother a little. I know she and Uncle
Ken will still be up; we haven't been gone very long."

"Oh ... I guess I could," Debbie acquiesced. "I really like champagne."

"Good," Tony grinned, and squeezed her thigh possessively with his free
hand. Debbie caught his wrist, slid his fingers into the tight, hot
crevice between her legs, parting her thighs slightly to accept his
hand.

"Mmmmmmmmm!" she crooned contentedly.

Tony turned the Corvette onto his uncle's street, then into the
driveway alongside the house, the quiet engine making a soft purring
sound in the stillness--nothing more. He switched off the engine and
the lights, and he and the lovely young girl slipped out of the car.

Taking her hand, Tony said, "We'll go in through the kitchen. Uncle Ken
always keeps the door there unlocked, and I forgot my front door key."

"Okay."

They started along the cinder path which hugged the side of the
sprawling, modem house. It was very quiet, with just the sound of the
crickets to disturb the silence. Through the partially open living room
window just ahead, Tony could see the flickering light from the
fireplace, which told him that his mother and uncle were, indeed, still
up. He and Debbie moved forward--and it was then that they heard the
sounds coming from inside the living room.

They were low, moaning, panting sounds, co-mingled with the distinct
labored squeaking of couch springs, and both teenagers stopped. Debbie
leaned against Tony, whispering, "What was that?"

"I ... I don't know."

"Let's go look!"

"Deb ..."

But she was leading him off the path, over to the window; the drapes
had not been fully drawn across it, and there was a foot-wide section
which allowed them both to see clearly into the house, into the living
room illuminated brightly by the dancing flames of the pine log fire.

Tony's eyes blinked rapidly for a moment, then focused on what was
transpiring on the couch before the fireplace, on the sight of the two
sweating, nakedly straining bodies plunging against one another there.
It ... it was his Uncle Ken! And ... and ... and ...

Oh Jesus Christ, no!

His mother!

His mother and his Uncle Ken were fucking in wild, heaving abandon
before his very eyes!



Chapter 3


A startled, disbelieving gasp strangled in Tony's throat and he stood
absolutely motionless for a long, breathless second. Then his body
began to sway and his vision clouded, and it seemed for a moment he
would collapse. He put out his hand blindly, encountered the wall
beside the window, and leaned his weight against it, his brain filled
with the searing mental image of his mother, his mother, receiving
every hard, throbbing inch of his uncle's thick, hard penis in the soft
hair-fringed folds of her plainly visible pussy! He couldn't believe
it, he just couldn't ... Tony rubbed hot, viscid sweat from his eyes
with his free hand, clearing his vision once more, and then stared at
the carnally lustful sight his stupefied brain was having difficulty
comprehending.

It was true ... it was horribly, terribly, impossibly true!

The shocked young teenager fought to sort out his wildly swirling
thoughts, fought to clear his brain of the haze of his benumbed senses,
fought to search his soul for some explanation to the lascivious
carnality being enacted there before him in his uncle's living room.
But he couldn't conceive of an answer, could only stare as if
hypnotized at the salacious actions of the woman he had thought he
could forgive and love again, and of the man who had always been so
gentle and kind to him. Dimly, he felt an overpowering desire to turn
and run, run far away from the shocking view, but he was somehow
powerless to move. It was as if his legs were no longer a part of him,
unresponsive to the commands of his brain. He stared with bulging eyes
at the lewd sight, at the twisting, naked form of his mother, at the
contorted ecstasy on her lovely face, at the soft litheness of her body
glistening in the flickering firelight while his uncle pounded savagely
into her wide splayed cunt with his long, hard penis ...

Suddenly, insanely, Tony's cock too, began to stir and throb crazily in
his pants, to rise slowly into an erection as he stared at the sexual
antics being performed in front of his eyes. No, no, he couldn't be
getting excited, he couldn't! And yet he was ... he was becoming
aroused watching his own voluptuously built mother, the woman who had
borne him, the woman he wanted to love again, being fucked shitless by
his own uncle!

A deep moan of despair coursed through him silently. You bitch, you
filthy bitch, he thought sobbingly. Oh goddamn you, why did you have to
come home, this is your fault, I know it is, you did this, you seduced
Uncle Ken, you did this, Mom, damn you ...

But the abrupt and unreasoning hatred he felt for his mother in that
moment had no effect whatsoever in dispelling his arousal. The sheer
lascivious actions of the nakedly writhing couple on the couch just a
few feet away held him spellbound, and his cock was a screaming thing
seeking escape from the cage of his trousers. Emotions fought and raged
within him as he continued to stare with wild eyes at the scene in the
living room, hearing their moans and cries, hearing his mother groan,
"Oh yes, yes, yes, that's it, Ken, darling, give it to me good, oh you
feel so good inside me, aahhhhhhh! I don't think I can hold back much
longer ...!"

And his uncle's voice, distorted with ecstasy, "Neither can I baby, I'm
going to cum soon, I'm going to fill you up with my love for you,
oooohhhhh!"

Standing close to the shocked and immobile form of Tony, pressing her
hot, soft body close to his, Debbie was also staring at the lust-
inciting sight of the couple on the living room couch. Damn oh damn!
she thought, will you look at that! I never thought Id see anything
like that in my life! Tony's uncle and Tony's mother ... boy oh boy oh
boy, he's really fucking it to her, really throwing that cock of his
into her ... and such a big cock too, just as I thought it would be,
even bigger than Tony's ... ohhh such a lovely big cock Mr. Ken Clark
has!

Debbie could feel excited, initial droplets of lubricant fluid begin to
flow from the sensitive walls of her eager young cunt, moistening the
petal-like lips, her fleecy black pubic hair, the thin white crotchband
of her panties, causing her to open and close her thighs spasmodically.
Her nipples hardened like granite chips beneath her blouse, and the
large globes of her breasts began to throb with excitement. This was
the most enticing sight she had ever seen, and it was sending the
juices of her insatiable passion raging out of control. She had already
been hot and ready on this night, wanting Tony anyway, and now,
witnessing what he was, she was half out of her mind with churning,
delicious desire.

Oh God, she wanted a cock inside her, that's what she wanted! But she
couldn't have that, not tonight, probably never, but she could have
Tony's; she knew the effect she had on him, the powers of her
persuasion, and she wanted him to fuck her right here, right now, while
they watched his mother and his uncle going at it less than ten feet
away. But would he want to? He hadn't moved, he was still staring into
the living room, he was breathing faster and his eyes were all galzed
over ...

Debbie let her eyes drift down to the front of his trousers, and
exultancy swept through her. He had a hard-on! Yes, yes, she could see
it sticking out the front of his pants there, his big cock was hard, he
was as excited as she was at what he was seeing! He was half-wild with
lust watching his mother and his uncle fucking ... it was too good to
be true and yet it was true, there was no denying it ...

She had to take advantage of the situation before Tony came to his
senses, before he could do anything like pull her away from there. She
had to control the situation, make him want her, and soon, soon, before
the wildly fucking couple inside reached their climax ... Debbie thrust
her body harder against his, rubbing her breast up and down his arm,
her aching, secreting pussy against his thigh. Then her right hand was
gliding down to cup and stroke his cloth-encased erection, while at the
same time she put her mouth to his ear and let her hard, wet, pink
little tongue dart teasingly inside.

Tony moaned softly, trying half-heartedly to twist away from her, but
she held tightly to his cock and his balls, stroking them, flicking her
tongue into his ear until he was quivering with excitement, his eyes
staring through the window. Then she was murmuring into his ear. "Look
at them, honey, look at your mother with her legs locked up around your
uncle's back, look at them fucking ... they're really going at it,
loving every second, look at the way they're fucking ... fucking ...
fucking ...

"Oh God, oh God ..."

"Why don't you and I do the same thing, Tony sweet?" she intoned
tantalizingly. "Why don't we fuck like they're fucking, all of us
fucking together, right here, right now ... your cock is so hard, Tony
I can feel it, wouldn't you like me to bend over in front of you and
have it inside my pussy, sweet, fucking deep and hard into my pussy,
cumming deep in my belly with your hot, beautiful cum ..."

A low, tortured, guttural sound purled from the lust-incited teenager's
throat--and by that sound, Debbie knew that she had won. She whispered,
"I'm going to take your cock out, sweet, I'm going to take it out right
now and hold it in my hand ... then I'm going to make you naked and
myself naked and we're going to fuck right here while we watch your
uncle and your mother ..."

Tony just stood there while the panting young teenage girl unfastened
his belt, pulled his trousers down and his undershorts down, and began
to stroke his naked, bulging cock, her little finger extended downward
to tantalize the burgeoning sac of his balls. Then she was unbuttoning
her blouse with her free hand, shrugging it off there in the darkness,
the lust-inciting sounds of lovemaking filling her with tremendous
urgency, causing her pussy to palpitate with crazed desire. Her hot
pants were next, puddled at her feet, and she was completely naked for
she wore no bra and no panties. She pressed her naked, firm breasts
against Tony's bare arm, rolling the nipples back and forth through the
thick hair on his forearm, reveling in the feeling that motion
generated inside her, and then she began kissing him on the neck and
throat with her hot, moist lips as she continued to fondle and caress
his prick and testicles.

Debbie gingerly turned his body just enough so that his cock was
jutting toward her but not enough to hamper his view of what was
happening inside the house. Then she began rubbing his swollen,
throbbing young cock up and down her secreting cuntal slit, teasing the
head through the soft, wet fringes of her pussy hair, causing both of
them to moan softly with spiraling delight. Against his ear she
breathed, "I want you to fuck me now, Tony sweet, fuck me while we
watch. Hurry now! I'll lean forward against the window sill and you get
behind me and put your big cock in my cunt ... fuck me good and hard
from behind ... hurry now, hurry Tony and fuck me, I can't wait much
longer for your cock in my belly ..."

His girlfriend broke away from him momentarily, leaning forward with
her hands braced against the window sill so that she had a good, clear
view of what was transpiring within. Then she arched her back downward,
lifting her naked, white-sheened buttocks up to Tony, wiggling them
tantalizingly, parting her legs wide so that he could see the wetly
waiting opening of her thin, sparsely bearded little pussy. She reached
behind her, found Tony's hugely erect cock and grasped it tightly,
guiding it to her nakedly bent buttocks, moving the wetly lubricated
head over each of her hotly quivering ass-cheeks in movements that
caused the fires of her passion to spiral almost to the pinnacle of
release.

Tony was totally enslaved by lust now, no longer able to control
himself of his emotions. A small part of his brain cried, Don't do
this, it's wrong, that's your mother and your uncle fucking like crazy
in there! Don't do this ... don't let it happen ... get away from here
before it's too late! But Debbie's fingers were like fire on his naked
cock, guiding the impatiently palpitating head across her whitely
quivering young buttocks, and her manipulations and the intensely
erotic sight of his uncle fucking long and hard into his mother just a
few feet away made the pressure in his young balls almost excruciating.
He had to shoot his cum, he had to fuck Debbie, he had to, he had to!

Debbie was breathing so harshly now, she felt sure the nakedly joined
couple inside the living room could hear her. But she couldn't control
her gasping, consumed totally by the powerful emotions seething through
her young, vibrant flesh. But neither Ken nor Bette would have heard a
cannon firing at that moment, for both were striving with every fibre
of their beings for the release of the great buildup of cum inside the
handsome uncle's wetly glistening prick, moaning and slashing at one
another. And Debbie watched in delirious, mindless anticipation,
watched Tony's mother grip her ankles tighter around Ken's buttocks,
pound her heels on the jerking moons, moaning over and over, "Cum, Ken,
cum Ken, cum Ken, oooohhhh darling, cummmmmmmmmm!"

The lovely, black-haired teenager couldn't wait any longer. She guided
Tony's prick, filled with swirling blood and hot semen near-ready to
erupt, over the warmly flexing little nether ring of her anus, causing
her to jerk spasmodically, and then into the wet, hot furrow between
her openly splayed legs. She teased the hard, rubbery tip up and down
the moist cleft, over her aching clitoris, through the wet, fiery folds
of her cunt lips, her thighs opening and closing in wild abandon. Then
she worked the blood-engorged head of his palpitating cock into her
trembling, waiting pussy ...

The pressure in the handsome teenage youth's balls climbed and soared,
and the churning, velvety buttocks of the young lovely girl spread
before him were an invitation that he was unable to resist. He leaned
forward, not taking his eyes off the twisting, jerking couple inside
the living room, off his uncle and his mother in there, and ran his
hands up and down Debbie's nakedly exposed hips in spasmodic movements
while the full girth of his cockhead slipped wetly into her hot, tight
cunt, a wet, clasping passage that was soft, soft, as soft as warm
flowing honey around his aching prick ...

Tony suddenly levered forward, out of control with desire, and the full
length and girth of his heaving young cock flashed through the moist,
clutching walls of the youthful girl's cunt, filling her, battering off
her cervix, hot and hard and thick deep in her belly, and Debbie felt a
maddening ecstasy as she began to roll and fling her buttocks back
against his invading member. It's never been this good! she thought
mindlessly. Never, never, never! Oh God, oh God, getting fucked while
watching Tony's mother and uncle fucking inside there ... what a
thrill, what a real kick this is ... aaaaahhmmmmmmmm!

She moaned silently, happily, excitedly, as the handsome youth's
sweating, naked loins pressed firmly against her undulating, upthrust
buttocks--and all of his great rod lay buried in the warm wet sheath of
her pussy, fucking into her in superb strokes that caused her whole
body to vibrate with desire. The warm, moistened walls of her tight
young cunt clasped his cock like a soft, olive-oiled filled fist, and
Tony groaned deep in his throat, then withdrew until only the head of
his shaft lay within the fire-hot wetness of her vaginal mouth. He
stared down at his glistening shaft, slick with her lubrication, for a
moment before returning his glazed eyes to the straining figures of his
mother and uncle in the dancing firelight within the living room.

His youthful hips drove forward with ever-increasing speed, his hands
kneading and squeezing her buttocks, as his long, hard cock flashed up
into her now widened cuntal tunnel, the passage accepting it eagerly.
She rolled and twisted her hips back against his bucking loins as waves
of delicious pleasure surged through her trembling young body, further
enhanced by the salacious sight she too was witnessing. Then Tony
leaned forward, resting his head on her spine, kissing the soft black
strands of her hair, and his hands slid under her twisting body to cup
and caress the dancing globes of her firm, taut young breasts. Debbie
moaned softly, then took one of his hands and slid it down over her
sweating stomach to the hot, wet curls of her pubic fleece. She began
to move his hand up and down there, extending his middle finger so that
it parted her hair-lined young pussy lips and tantalizingly moved back
and forth over her erect, throbbing clitoris as his cock plunged deep
and hot and hard into her cunt below. It wouldn't be long now, Debbie
knew; it wouldn't be much longer before he would cum and she would cum
and the wildly fucking couple, her boyfriend's mother and uncle, in the
house would cum too ...

Bathed in the hot, bright glow of firelight, Bette and Ken were
completely lost in a frenzy of near-completion, thrashing wildly, madly
on the couch as they both sought their climaxes. Bette rotated her hips
from side to side around the fleshy impaling pole of her ex-husband's
brother's magnificent shaft pressed far up into her quivering belly,
her vagina dilating in time to its rhythmic hammering, its tiny
contracting muscles nibbling greedily at the inflated head of his
swollen cock. The lips of her softly hair-lined pink slit pulled
tantalizingly away, sliding moistly down his rod for several inches and
then nibbling slowly back up, buffeting her wet blonde pubic hair
tightly against his own bristling black growth, imbedding the full
length of him deep, deep into the warm, soft recesses of her hungrily
churning stomach.

Bette groaned wildly under his pumping body, and Ken could feel his
cock growing and expanding inside her until it felt now as though it
were going to burst from the exquisite pleasure building in his
scrotum. He had to cum soon, he had to, he had to ... he had deprived
himself of this wondrous sensations for too long, he had forgotten just
how wonderful it could be with a woman he really cared for, a woman
like Bette ...

He wanted her to cum too, to mingle his bursting juices with hers
simultaneously, and he began fucking into her still harder. She gripped
him tight with her imprisoning thighs, opening and closing them around
him in time to his long hard thrusts, and he knew that Bette was fast
approaching her orgasm even without her moaning confirmation.

"Hurry, cum Ken, darling, cum, cum, I'm going to cum too, I want you to
cum and fill me up, oooooohhhhhh!" she moaned in mesmeric abandon.

"Yes, darling, fill you up, fill you up ..."

"Oooooooooo!"

"Bette, Bette, Bette!"

"Do me harder, fuck me, fuck me, oh Ken, I'm ... I'm almost there ...
fuck me, Ken, harder, harder, harder ...!"

She continued to chant her encouragement, over and over, drawing each
syllable and cry of delight out, spurring him on to greater heights
with her obscene mumblings, pounding her heels with rhythmic tempo on
his back as she jackknifed her legs up to mash her knees tightly back
against her breasts, offering him the full expanse of her upturned
cuntal furrow. Her eyes rolled like a hopeless idiot's, her face
contorted with lust as she ground her buttocks and loins up desperately
to achieve her imminent, monumental orgasm.

And then--

"I'm ... there, oh Ken, oh Ken, oh Ken, I'm cumming, you're making me
cummmmmmmmm!"

The words burst from Bette's throat in a low banshee wail, piercing
Ken's eardrums, and she pulled her thighs back tighter until the whole
of her widespread crotch was presented to his rhythmically heaving
pelvis. Her ankles locked back up over his shoulders, and she squirmed
her hips beneath him in a wild, uninhibited dance of ecstasy, screaming
out her orgasm to him.

Ken felt the warm, gushing juices of her climax seethe and flow around
his thundering cock in her cunt as he battered his body brutally
against her. Bette strained herself up on his prick with all the power
in her thighs, as her loins spasmed convulsively against his belly. And
the great swirl of heat which was building, building in his testicles
again, and finally the hot sticky load of his semen began its frenzied
rush from his bloated scrotum along the underside of his cock.

"I'm cumming too, darling, I'm cumming too, ooooohhhhhh!"

Ken began to spew hot, thin streams into her sucking eager cunt in a
seemingly never-ending burst, emptying his very being deep, deep up
into the warm inner depths of her thirstily drinking pussy, pouring out
his love and desire for her. Then he moaned his last final droplet, an
eternity later, and his cock began to deflate; he withdrew it slowly,
tenderly, from her sperm-flooded cunt with a soft liquid sucking sound,
trailing thin gossamer-like strands of semen along the whiteness of her
belly as he rolled over beside her sweating flesh and held her close,
close to him, kissing her mouth and nose and eyes in thankful
gratification for the wondrous pleasure she had just given him ...

Outside the window, Debbie watched the couple in the living room reach
their climax together, watched the handsome Ken Clark shoot out the
thick white semen from his huge, thick cock deep into the hotly
clasping cuntal mouth of Tony's mother. The sight was too much to bear,
and she knew she had to cum at that very instant, cum as they were
cumming, the pressure was driving her insane! She buffeted frantically
back against young Tony's wildly heaving body, and her own flesh
vibrated with growing, pinwheeling heat as she sought to achieve her
orgasm from the great rod filling her cunt below, from his finger
sliding so masterfully over her aching clit ...

Then, suddenly she came!

Great flashes of light burst in back of her eyes, and pleasure so acute
it was akin to pure pain consumed every trembling fibre of the
provocative, insatiable teenage girl's being. This was the best, her
mind chanted as her orgasm washed wildly through her. This was the best
she'd ever had, the best, the best ... oooohhhh, watching others fuck
and being fucked herself at the same time was the most wonderful
fucking she'd ever, ever known ...!

Behind her, his eyes glazed with lust, his loins bucking and twisting
against Debbie's upturned buttocks, Tony watched his mother spread her
legs as wide as she could and his uncle shoot his hotly boiling cum
deep up inside her voraciously accepting belly. A small part of his
brain was shocked by the sight, but the rest of it was driven to new
heights of passion and the need for release became overwhelming. His
mother ... his mother was cumming like a street whore right before his
very eyes ... his mother was naked in there, welcoming his uncle's cock
deep in her pussy ... his mother, the woman who had borne him, cumming,
having sex as he was having sex, cumming, cumming, his mother was
cumming and he had to cum too ...

He drove into his young dark-haired girlfriend's twisting, sucking
pussy with long, hard strokes that seemed to receive power from the
tips of his toes, his balls churning harshly into her excitedly
secreting crevice below. And then, as Debbie's hot flowing juices
drowned his prick completely, bathing it with hot fiery liquid as the
magnitude of her cum increased--as he heard her gasp and gurgle deep in
her throat and as he heard his mother and his uncle mewling their
delight to one another inside the living room--Tony's own balls erupted
like a flash of summer lightning.

A guttural mewling sound burst from his throat as great torrents of his
hotly bubbling cum spilled into the lovely, black-haired teenage girl's
greedily clasping pussy. He kneaded her breasts convulsively with both
hands now, having abandoned her clitoris for the hot, sweating, swaying
globes, and his cock spasmed crazily in the hot moist flesh of her
cunt, filling her to the brim with his virile young sperm, causing
tears of rapture and delight to flood from Debbie's eyes as his juices
mixed with hers deep up in her quivering young belly.

Then Tony's long, hard shaft gave one last spurt of liquid and the hard
shaft began to transform into a soft, small caricature of its former
self, popping free from Debbie's tight young cunt. As it did, sanity
began to push away some of the hypnotic trance of lust Tony had been
in--and with that sanity came the advent of shock, disgust, shame and
anger.

Debbie straightened up, pressing her lightly perspiring flesh to his,
and whispered into his ear, "Oh sweet, sweet Tony, that was really and
truly groovy! I've never been fucked like that, never, and it was
wonderful!"

But the handsome teenage youth barely heard her lewd words. He was
looking over the top of her glistening black-haired head, through the
parted drapes into the living room. In the firelight he could clearly
see his mother and his uncle sitting up on the couch now, both of them
naked; then they kissed, touching one another gently, and picked up
their clothes. They were murmuring softly, words he couldn't make out
from where he and Debbie were standing as they walked naked together
out of the room.

A soft cry broke free from Tony's throat--a cry of self-loathing he and
Debbie just now, a cry of hatred and disgust for what he had seen
happen between his uncle and mother. He pushed the lovely young girl
away from him roughly, gathering up his discarded clothing, and put his
undershorts and pants on with quick movements. Debbie also began to
dress, watching him, whispering, "If you don't want to take me home
yet, sweet, we can go up to Lookout Peak. By the time we get there,
I'll be ready to go again ..."

He didn't seem to hear her; he no longer seemed to know she was even
there. He spun on his heel and ran for the patio porch, letting himself
into the house noisily, slamming the kitchen door. Debbie was left
standing in the shadows by the window, alone.

She stared after Tony for a moment, worrying her lower lip. She hoped
that he wouldn't turn against her because of what had happened tonight,
all of what had happened, because she dug him pretty much--even though
there could never be just one man in her life. She loved all men, all
sizes and shapes, cocks big and small, and while she might prefer one
to the other, it was simply a matter of degree and not of kind.

Well, she thought, he'll be all right tomorrow. Things might be a
little strained for awhile, but he'll realize that his mother and his
uncle were just doing what comes naturally ... just as we were ... and
he'll forget all about it. I'll make him forget all about it myself,
tomorrow, tonight. I'll give him something to think about, that's what
I'll do ... plenty else to think about!

Giggling softly to herself, the lovely teenage girl turned and,
switching her hips provocatively beneath her hot pants even though
there was no one there to watch, she walked quickly out of the Clark
yard.



Chapter 4


Bette awoke in the guest room a few minutes before nine the next
morning, stretching languidly, the sheets cold and sweet smelling
against her naked body. Sunlight slanted in through the partially drawn
blinds over the window, falling across her eyes, and she raised one arm
to shield out the bright light.

As she lay there, the events of the preceding evening returned vividly
to her mind. She dwelled for a moment on the frenzy of passion which
had been generated between her and her ex-brother-in-law, Ken, the
pleasure they had taken and given in and with one another's bodies.
God, but he was a fine, handsome, sensual man! Bette had almost
forgotten what lovemaking, real lovemaking, could be like; and her sex-
starved body and mind had reveled in the deliciously fevered flesh of
her dead husband's brother. He was truly a magnificent lover, far
better than David, as good or maybe even better than Hale when their
relationship had been at the height of its intense delights.

And yet, here in the cold light of day, questions made themselves known
in the lovely blonde woman's mind--the very questions which, in her
subconscious, had caused fitful dreams in the night. What, if anything,
did her coupling with Ken mean in terms of a lasting relationship? Was
he merely a deprived self-celibate, such as she had been the past few
months, who had lost control of his tightly-reined emotions last night
and thus led him into the wild lovemaking with her? How did Ken really
feel about her? How did she really feel about him? And what if Tony,
her young handsome son, should find out what they had done? How would
he feel about his mother and his uncle coming together in any kind of
intimate relationship?

The questions spun and revolved in Bette's mind, but there were no
immediate answers for any of them. She had come home, and been accepted
by her son and by the brother of her dead ex-husband--those were the
only facts she knew for certain. They were good facts, contented ones
after the months of terrible loneliness and guilt, and she could only
hope that they would last ... and that the questions she had just posed
to herself would be resolved favorably. Now that she had tasted
happiness again, the thought of returning to Chicago, of living alone
in that tiny apartment there, were more frightening and depressing than
ever.

Bette sighed and slipped out of the cool bed, padding naked across the
bedroom, her taut, firmly rounded buttocks jiggling with unaffected
sensuality as she moved, her rich, still-firm breasts swaying gently.
From her suitcase she removed clean bra and panties, a pair of hip-
hugger slacks and a lightweight summer shirt, dressed quickly, and
combed her soft blonde hair at the vanity mirror. Then, after applying
a light touch of makeup, she opened the door and went out into the
hall.

The smell of frying bacon, and coffee percolating, drew her to the
kitchen. When she opened the door, she saw Ken standing at the stove,
humming softly to himself as he tended to bacon and eggs cooking in a
pair of skillets. He turned when he heard her enter, put down the
spatula he was holding, and came to her, his mouth curved in a gently,
loving smile.

"Good morning, darling," he said, and kissed her, folding her into his
strong arms.

She returned his kiss, pressing against him for a moment, then stepped
away, smiling at him. "Good morning, Ken," she said softly.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Not too badly."

"I slept marvelously myself," he laughed. He took her hand and led her
to the table, seating her in a chair before one of two place settings.
"Breakfast coming right up."

Bette noticed the absence of a third place at the table. She asked,
"Where's Tony this morning?"

"He left about forty-five minutes ago," Ken replied. "I don't know
where he was going. He seemed kind of upset about something or other."

A small wedge of fear formed in Bette's stomach. "Oh Ken, you don't
suppose ...

"What?

"Well, he came home right after you and I ... well, right after we left
the living room. He ... he ..."

"Might have heard or saw something?" Ken finished for her. "No, I doubt
that, Bette. You mustn't worry about that."

She moistened her soft, pink lips. "But I can't help worrying about it.
What if he finds out that we ... we ...?"

"He won't find out, not unless we tell him." He crossed to her chair,
stood looking down at her tenderly. "Honey ... you're not sorry about
last night, are you? You're not sorry we made love?"

Bette swallowed hard, her eyes meeting his. "No," she said truthfully.
"No, Ken, I'm not sorry."

His smile was wide and happy. "I'm glad, darling, because I'm not in
the least sorry either. It was beautiful, wonderful, perfect, and
there's no use in denying it."

"No, there isn't," Bette admitted.

"Bette, I ... I'm in love with you. I want to marry you."

Tears suddenly welled in her lovely eyes. "Oh, oh Ken, do you really
mean that?"

"Yes, I really mean it," he said, smiling down at her. "I know this
isn't the time to talk about it, not yet, but I wanted you to know how
I felt. Do you feel the same way about me, darling? Just a little bit?"

"Yes, I ... I do."

"Then you'll marry me one day soon?"

"I ... think so, Ken. Yes, I think so."

He pulled her to her feet, kissing her face, holding her tightly. "I'll
make you happy," he whispered. "I'll make you forget all of the past,
every bit of it, and there won't be any more pain for you, Bette. Only
goodness and love."

She cried softly against his shoulder, and a warm, glowing feeling
swept through her body. She thought: I know the answers to some of
those questions now ... oh God, I can't believe it's really true, that
they're the right answers, but I hope and pray that they are ...

* * *

Tony drove his Corvette at high speeds to the small lake north of
Westridge, took a dirt-road cutoff once he reached there, and followed
that to where it ended at a small secluded beach. It was deserted this
early in the morning, a fact which the handsome teenage youth was
thankful for. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts, to sort out the
confused feelings which churned inside him and which had kept him awake
most of the night.

He parked the Corvette under some pine trees, stepped out into the
warm, fresh air, and went down onto the sandy beach. He walked along
it, listening to the murmur of the water as it licked at the beach in
tiny waves, his hands thrust into the pockets of his trousers.

What was he going to do? he wondered for the hundredth time since last
time, since what he had witnessed and what he and Debbie had done while
watching his mother and his uncle. He felt guilty and ashamed, and at
first he had known violent anger toward Debbie. But then, the more he
thought about it, the more he concluded that she was not to blame, not
really; she was a hot-blooded girl, and she had succumbed to the same
carnal temptation that he had, that was all. No, Debbie and he had been
weak, young and weak, and what they had done could be excused.

But what he had seen his mother and Uncle Ken doing was an altogether
different story.

God, he could still scarcely believe it. His mother grinding her cunt
up hotly at his uncle's huge cock, her legs wrapped all the way around
his back ... like a couple of animals. Which one of them had started
it? His mother probably ... sure, his mother, who was a slut underneath
after all, who couldn't come home for one day without spreading her
legs like she'd done the past five years down in Chicago, like she'd
done even before that here in Westridge with Hale Bixby and Christ only
knew how many other guys before him. He should have known better than
to trust her, than to think she was repenting and that she'd really
changed.

Tony tried to conjure up a burning hatred for his mother, but in spite
of his thoughts, he couldn't seem to make himself loathe her the way he
had done after she'd deserted he and his father, after his Dad had died
in that auto crash. He kept remembering the pain and suffering that had
been mirrored on her face when he'd first seen her yesterday afternoon,
the beseeching way she'd looked at him, and how his heart had gone out
to her ... and then he kept seeing her with her legs locked high up
around Uncle Ken's back, pumping her open pussy up at him, urging him
to fuck her harder so that she could cum ...

The two images were totally alien to one another, and because they were
Tony couldn't hate his mother with any kind of consuming passion. He
couldn't hate his uncle, either, for Ken Clark had been kind to him,
gentle and kind over the years, and the sight of him lewdly driving his
cock into Tony's mother's widely splayed vagina was another alien
concept that confused the teenage youth. Well, his uncle was a man
after all, just as Tony was, and he had been blinded probably by
Bette's beauty, for she was undeniably a lovely woman ... Tony could
remember how her naked body had looked there in the firelight, her
perfectly formed hips and legs, her large, ruby-nippled breasts, the
thin, wet little cuntal slit nestled beneath her softly curling
triangle of blonde pubic hair ...

Tony shook his head violently, feeling his face flame red, and he
looked guiltily around him even though the beach was still deserted.
What was the matter with him, thinking about his bitch of a mother that
way? It was almost as if ... well, as if he had been captivated and
attracted by the sight of her nakedness, by the way she was fucking
back at his uncle ... almost as if he, Tony, wanted to have been in
Uncle Ken's place on the couch last night ...

Stop it, damn it, stop that kind of thinking! he cursed himself. Oh
God, he was so confused today, so mixed up, he just didn't know what to
do. One thing was certain: he couldn't stay in that house with his
uncle and his mother much longer, not after last night. Suppose they
decided to keep screwing one another, suppose his uncle invited her to
move in there? Tony couldn't face them both day after day, knowing what
he knew; he just couldn't.

But what alternative did he have? He had a little money put away,
insurance from his father, that he intended to use for college in the
fall. Maybe he could move out, get a little apartment of his own, find
a job, and forget all about college ...

The prospect of living alone didn't appeal to Tony much, and he really
did want to go to State in September to pursue that Engineering degree.
So he couldn't move out, he couldn't get a job or an apartment and live
alone ... and yet, he couldn't stay on there at his uncle's home. What
was he going to do?

And suddenly, out of the clear blue summer sky, he had the answer.

A slow smile spread across his handsome features. Of, course! It was
simple, really simple. He remembered Debbie telling him once that her
father, who was a wealthy building contractor in Westridge, had
promised to give her a ten thousand dollar wedding present the day she
got married. Ten thousand dollars! Why, he and Debbie could both go to
college on that, as well as maintain an apartment, and when he
graduated with his Engineering degree, he would be automatically
assured of a high-paying job anywhere in the world that he chose.

He knew that Debbie loved him, he was sure of it, and he knew that he
loved her--so that made it all right about taking the money from her
father to set them up in housekeeping. But would she marry him if he
asked her, would she marry him right now? He thought that she would ...
yes, he was sure of it, she loved him, she would jump at the chance to
become Mrs. Tony Clark.

That's what he would do, all right, he thought with mounting
excitement. He would marry Debbie and move out of his uncle's place and
leave his mother and Ken to do whatever they wanted to do. He would be
free of them, on his own, and that would be the best way, the only way,
for him from now on ...

* * *

Ken was alone in his sprawling ranch-style house, working on a magazine
layout for which he had been given an assignment by one of the largest
of the women's slicks, when the doorbelly rang a few minutes past noon.

After he and Bette had eaten breakfast, he had told her that he had to
get to work on the layout, which was due in the magazine's offices the
first of the following week, and invited her to just lounge around by
the pool all day. But Bette had expressed a desire to reacquaint
herself with Westridge and environs, saying that she felt like taking a
day's drive, and Ken had immediately offered her the loan of his new
Pontiac convertible. She had thanked him profusely, kissed him warmly
and passionately, and then left in the car, promising to be home in
plenty of time for supper. He had told her to have fun, then had
retired to his study to work on the layout.

Now he frowned as the doorbell sounded again. He didn't like to be
interupted when he was working, especially when he was trying to meet a
deadline. Reluctantly, he got up from his desk and went out to see who
it was.

It was Debbie Mason, Tony's lovely black-haired girlfriend.

She stood in a provocative pose on the flagstone porch, wearing the
same hot pants as the night before and a different blouse, smiling
seductively at him. Her dark eyes traveled appreciatively over Ken's
slacks-and-jersey encased body, lowering insolently to the front of his
pants and lingering there on the faint outlines of his large manhood.
Her gaze, Ken thought uncomfortably, contained an odd kind of knowing
smirk, almost as if she knew some great and consuming secret about him.
He felt his neck redden, and the same faintly flustered feeling rose in
his stomach that he always seemed to get when around her.

He moistened his lips. "Hello, Debbie," he said, managing a small
smile.

"Hi, Ken," she cooed in reply, her gaze caressing his face now. "Is
Tony at home?"

"Why ... no, he isn't. I don't know where he is. Were you supposed to
meet him here this afternoon?"

"Not exactly," Debbie said in her husky voice. "I just thought I'd see
if he was home, 'cause it's pretty hot out now and I thought we could
go swimming in your pool."

Ken swallowed into a suddenly dry throat, noticing that she carried a
rolled towel under her right arm. Her smile now seemed almost obscene,
again as if she knew some great secret which Ken was not privileged to
know himself. "Well ... you're welcome to use the pool until Tony gets
home, of course."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude," Debbie said. "I mean, if Mrs. Clark
is here and she's swimming or something ..."

"No, she's not here either. She's gone for the day."

"Then ... you're all alone?"

Something in the tone of her voice caused his stomach to tingle
momentarily, then he shook himself mentally and made his face stern.
"Yes, I am, Debbie. Why?"

"Oh, no reason." She laughed softly. "Is it still okay if I use your
pool?"

"Yes ... I guess so. You can change in the cabana."

"I know, I've been here before."

"So you have."

"Well, thanks again, Ken, I'll just go on around back."

"All right."

Ken watched his nephew's young girlfriend walk away toward the rear of
the house, and he couldn't seem to take his eyes off the lithe, feline
way she moved, the jiggling sway of her taut young buttocks, the long
clean lines of her youthful legs. He swallowed heavily, moistened his
lips again, then quickly shut the door. Damn, what was it about that
little bitch that affected him so much? She was nothing but a tramp ...
and yet, she had an exciting, forbidden allure that was like an aura of
sexuality around her, reaching out and touching him like caressing
fingers ...

Ken went back into his study and tried to resume work on the magazine
layout. But he couldn't seem to concentrate now, and after ten futile
minutes he flung the pencil he was using to the floor, scraped back his
chair, and prowled into the kitchen. He opened a beer from the
refrigerator, drank some of it, then walked without even thinking about
it onto the porch. The rattan blinds were drawn up, and he could see
the provocative, lush form of Debbie Mason swimming in the pool, her
tanned young body encased in a wispy bikini that did little to hide her
large breasts, her flat abdomen and the tight, hot crevice of her
budding womanhood below. As Ken watched, she pulled herself out of the
pool, padded to the diving board at one end. Her body glistened in the
sun, and her buttocks swayed tantalizingly, causing Ken's throat to go
dry once again.

Debbie climbed up on the board, poised there for a moment, and he could
see the way her breasts strained at the halter top of her bikini, the
furrow of her pussy revealed by the tight bottoms. God, he thought,
she's got a fantastic body for such a young girl, such a beautiful
body! Ken realized he was sweating, realized the direction his thoughts
were taking, and he turned abruptly away from the window as Debbie dove
in a graceful swan dive into the cool water of the pool.

He went back to his study and once again tried to work. But visions of
the lovely teenage girl outside kept intruding on his thoughts and
again he couldn't concentrate. There was a curious fluttering sensation
in the pit of his stomach, and Ken was fully aware what it was;
beginning sexual arousal. Oh God, no, no! he thought, but he couldn't
deny the truth of it; his body, reawakened by his powerful lovemaking
with Bette the night before, was screaming once again for
gratification; one night's sexual frenzy, with the woman he now knew he
loved, was not enough to satisfy the flames which were now burning like
an inferno within him once more.

But he had to control the restless urgings of his sensual flesh, he
couldn't make a fool of himself with that young bitch out in the pool.
He loved Bette, it was Bette he wanted and not Debbie Mason, it was
Bette he wanted to hold in his arms again, Bette he wanted to slide his
hot, throbbing cock into, Bette, Bette, Bette ...!

And yet, even with the love he now felt for the lovely blonde mother,
he was drawn as if by a powerful, unseen magnet by the alluring black-
haired creature whom his nephew thought to be in love with. She seemed
to be reaching out to him with her lustful body, begging him
telepathically to come to her, to take her in his arms as he had taken
Bette in his arms the night before ...

A low moan of confused desire purled from Ken's throat. He tried to
force himself calm, force himself to remain where he was until the
feeling ebbed and passed--but then, as if with a separate will of their
own, his legs were carrying him out into the kitchen again, through the
kitchen to the back porch. He looked through the window, looked at the
pool.

Debbie was gone; the pool was deserted.

Ken drew in a deep, tremulous breath. Had she gone home? Christ, he
hoped so! He hoped so with all his heart ... and yet, he wanted her
still to be there, he wanted to go to her, touch her ... Jesus, Jesus,
why couldn't he control himself, why, why!

He had to make sure she was gone, that she was nowhere near, that she
had grown tired of waiting for Tony and had simply departed without
saying goodbye. Quickly, Ken hurried outside, walked past the pool, and
stepped up to the entrance to the small dressing cabana on the opposite
side. The door was slightly ajar, and he reached out and pushed it
open, taking a step forward to peer inside as he did so. And then, as
the sound of a shower spray hissing lightly onto the tile walls and
floors of the single stall came to his ears, he froze in wide-eyed
immobility at the sight suddenly presented to his eyes.

Debbie Mason, the provocative black-haired teenager, was standing
almost directly in front of him, across the tile floor of the cabana,
visible inside the open shower stall. Her tanned, lushly curved body
was blanketed in a soapy film from the bar she held in one slim hand,
rubbing herself briskly, humming softly. As Ken watched, in frozen
fascination, Debbie leaned over, facing away from him, and presented
her upturned, perfectly rounded ass-cheeks--the slim rippling flesh of
her thighs and the softly hair-fringed slit of her young, tight pussy
nestled between them--to his view.

She washed herself under the steady spray from the shower head,
obviously unaware of Ken's entrance; unaware of his eyes feasting on
her nakedness, his mouth open and wetly moist with the exciting sight
of her nudity so close to him, so lewdly displayed as she bent over
there in the stall. Her legs parted slightly as she dipped one hand
between her legs, sliding the bar of soap up and down along her soft,
tight crotch, the movement of her hand visible to Ken from where he
stood, the creamy soap suds clinging to her soft cunt lips, her pubic
hair. A tingling of delicious excitement coursed through his body, and
he shivered as he stared at Debbie's voluptuousness, at the rippling
muscles of her unclothed flesh. He told himself he had to turn around,
walk away from there, get out before he completely lost control of
himself--but he couldn't move, he could only stand rooted to the spot
with the tingling growing stronger in his lower belly now, causing his
cock to spasm into half-arousal in his pants, his balls to ache
maddeningly with building sperm. Jesus, she was beautiful, so hot and
small and beautiful!! What must the rest of her look like, her proud
young tits, the flatness of her belly, the thin, sparsely growing
triangle of her pubic mound, the front view of her young pussy ...

The lovely, naked teenager stepped under the full force of the shower
spray, and Ken watched the soap film disappear, leaving her in full
clean nakedness for his fevered gaze. His mouth was dry now as he saw
Debbie rub vigorously at her back, at her buttocks, at the darkened
nether ring of her tight little anus, and Ken stifled a low groan of
frustration and shame and mounting lust, the small of his back becoming
almost alive with emulation of her vigorous movements.

Then Debbie turned off the spray and took a large towel, the one she
had been carrying earlier, from where it was slung over the top of the
stall side. She turned as she did, the towel covering her breasts and
her lower abdomen as she stood in profile to Ken's feasting gaze. His
imagination ran rampant, and he found himself urging her silently to
pull the towel away, to let him see her tits, her pussy, he had to see
all of her nakedness!

He took a convulsive step forward, inside the cabana now, straining to
see her nudity, watching Debbie begin to rub herself with the towel,
catching fragmented glimpses of her rich, firm breasts, her glistening
pubic mound. Then Ken's breath caught agonizingly in his throat, his
mind whirling with the mounting fever in his loins, his cock in full
throbbing erection now, as he saw the towel lift higher, higher,
revealing her belly, the black, black pubic triangle as perfect as he
had imagined, shining with droplets of water, the soft petal-like lips
of her young, tight cunt clearly defined beneath. She rubbed at her
face and hair, undulating her hips lightly, unconsciously, as she did
so, then lowered the towel to her belly, began to rub between her legs.
Ken saw her breasts for the first time, the round, resilient mounds
capped with large nipples, distended from the force of the shower spray
in their nests of brownish-pink aureoles, and his cock ached and leapt
wildly in his trousers.

Sensuously, his nephew's girlfriend massaged her pubic region, slowly
manipulating the fluffy towel over her pussy, between her legs, up and
down and back and forth, her lips parted wetly and her eyes half lidded
at the delicious feelings of the towel between her parted thighs. Then
the towel came up, like an eager lover, and she was drying her breasts,
squeezing them together inside the towel, the firm flesh rippling as
she pressed the twin globes together, released them, pressed them
together again so that the nipples almost touched.

She kept this up for what seemed to Ken like an eternity, and he could
feel his cock begin to secrete droplets of seminal fluid in his wild
arousal. He was held transfixed, unable to move, unable to breathe, as
the lovely black-haired teenager used the towel to make tantalizing,
maddening love to herself, sliding up and down along her body, between
her legs, rubbing over her clit, her breasts, back and under to her
puckered anal ring, again and again. Ken's body was a seething cauldron
of desire effectively blotting out all the rational thoughts in his
mind, and his prick threatened to burst from the cage of his trousers.

Finally, sighing softly, Debbie lowered the towel, stood motionless for
a moment, then tossed the fluffy square over the top of the stall side
again. Then she straightened, stretched and started out of the shower
stall. Run! Ken's mind screamed. Get out of here, hurry, before she
sees you, before it's too late! But still he couldn't move, still he
was held rooted to the spot, still his eyes feasted on her hips,
breasts, pussy ...

And then Debbie saw him. She stopped, momentary surprise making her
rigid, her eyes blinking rapidly as she saw the flushed face of the
handsome older man standing in the doorway. "Why, Ken!" she exclaimed.

"I ... I ... I ..." He couldn't form words, and he couldn't tear his
eyes away from her voluptuous nakedness. His brain was a confused
wasteland aflame with passion and fire.

Slowly, Debbie's lovely face curved into a provocative grin and she
whispered, "You were watching me in there, weren't you, Ken?" she
accused. "You saw me drying myself, didn't you?"

"Oh God, Debbie, I ... I ..." Again, Ken was at a loss for words. He
wished, deep down, that he could turn and run, but it was as if some
demoniacal force held him there, held him for the inevitable outcome of
his voyeurism.

Debbie's eyes traveled in that slow, insolent way over his body,
stopping on the jutting front of his trousers, the wet spot on the
material where the head of his huge cock rested, and her smile widened.
She felt arousal suddenly spiral in her belly and loins, felt her
nipples harden even more as she stared at his burgeoning cock, and she
remembered back to last night, to the huge weapon which he possessed
burrowing wildly and hotly into the eagerly swallowing pussy of Tony's
mother-remembered her own thoughts about the immensity of his cock and
how much she would like to have such a wonderful hardness buried deep
in her own belly ...

Such a big cock, she thought wantonly, such a big hard cock he has ...
and so handsome, such a fine hard body too ... and the way he's
standing there, the way he's looking at me ... he wants me, he wants to
fuck me, right here, right now! That's why he came out here, that's why
he watched me taking a shower, watched me toweling myself and playing
with my titties and my pussy. He's probably wanted me all along, wanted
to fuck me with that big hard monster of a cock of his ... mmmmmmmmmm,
I know I shouldn't but I want him too, I want him to fuck me, I want
that huge prick of his deep up inside me ... oohhhh yes, I want it so
much, my pussy is on fire with wanting it! Well ... why not? There's no
one else around, why not let him fuck me? It'll be good, I know it will
... mmmmmmm, yes it will! Why not? He'll never tell afterward, he
doesn't dare, and Tony won't find out ...

Her pussy aflame with lascivious desire now, the lovely black-haired
teenager moved forward, swaying her hips seductively, moistening her
lips again and again with the tip of her hot, pink little tongue. Her
hands came up, slowly, slowly, sliding along her sides, up and down, up
and down, and then she was cupping her breasts, squeezing them lightly
at her chest so that they seemed to bulge forward, beckoning to Ken.
Debbie stopped directly in front of the sweating, aroused uncle of her
boyfriend, standing very close to him, the hardened nipples of her lush
young breasts almost touching his chest, her forward-thrust pussy
almost touching the distended material of his trousers where his huge
cock jutted forth.

She said, "I know what you want, Ken honey. I know why you were
watching me. I know what you're thinking now."

"N-no ..." Ken stuttered.

"Oh yes, honey, I know. I know what you want to do, you can't fool me.
I can see how hard your cock is there. I can tell that you're excited,
I can tell that you'd like to shove that big hard monster of yours into
my pussy. Debbie knows!"

Ken couldn't take his eyes from her voluptuous beauty, from the way she
kept squeezing and manipulating her breasts, and his breath spewed
forth raggedly from his nostrils. Oooooohhhh God help me! he thought
miserably, on fire with lust for this beautifully formed teenage girl
standing naked before him.

He took an involuntary step backward, but it was also a step slightly
to the side and he found himself backed up against the cabana wall next
to the door. His eyes bulged wide, but there was only half-crazed
desire mirrored in them as the rushing, screaming lust ran rampant
through his loins, flaming his brain. There was nothing he could do,
nowhere for him to go, he was trapped here with this young teenage
siren, his own nephew's girlfriend ... and it was just what he had
wanted all along!

"Yes, you want to fuck me, I know you do," Debbie intoned, moving still
closer to him. "You want to fuck me deep and hard with that fine big
cock of yours, you can't wait to fuck me, honey, and I can't wait to
have you fuck me. But first you're going to kiss me between the legs,
kiss my pussy with your hot wet mouth. Yes, that's just what you're
going to do, you're going to kiss and lick my pussy and then you're
going to fuck me good and proper ..."

Her lewd, obscene words were like pokers stoking the fires of his
desire and he was trembling and sweating like a man caught up in the
fever of malaria. Blood pounded wildly in his cock, as if begging her
to touch it, touch his prick, pull it free of his trousers and hold it
in her hot little hand ...

Again, Ken knew the feeling of demoniacal telepathy, for in that moment
Debbie reached out a slow, tantalizing hand and touched the throbbing
knob of his prick through the cloth of his pants. The touch of her
fingers on his aching shaft sent an electric shock spiraling through
Ken, and he moaned in excited torment. The black-haired teenage vixen
stroked his shaft lightly, tantalizingly, increasing the rhythm of her
strokes as her fingertips slipped far between his legs, carressing the
entire plane of his crotch. Then she was pressing up against him,
rubbing her firm, young breasts hotly against his chest, her mouth
seeking his, finding it, her tongue searing between his lips like a
molten firebrand to fuse with his own saliva-drenched probe. Her hands
dipped to his belt, opening it, and Ken was suddenly helping her,
feverishly stripping himself, flinging his clothes uncaringly onto the
cabana floor. Now he was as naked as she was, his thick, huge, blood-
enraged shaft standing out at heavy right angle from his loins,
quivering, seeping fluid from its glans opening.

Debbie stepped back, gasping in excitement, seizing his cock in both
her hot, moist little hands, rubbing it maddeningly between her palms.
"Oh Ken, honey sweet, it's beautiful, it's huge and beautiful and I
can't wait to have it inside me! But first you have to kiss my pussy, I
won't let you fuck me with that wonderful prick of yours until you kiss
my pussy with your mouth and tongue ..."

Ken didn't care about anything in that moment except this alluring,
provocative wanton girl whose lewd words were sending him into a frenzy
of lust. He showered hot, moist kisses over her face, her throat, into
the valley of her breasts, his hands moving over the smooth hillocks of
her buttocks, cupping them, squeezing the flesh painfully. She was
breathing into his ear, hot and sweet, and her right hand stroked his
cock lightly back and forth, sliding the foreskin over the swollen
head, threatening to send the tremendous buildup of his cum shooting
that very moment through his cock and against the hot, soft flesh of
her undulating belly and abdomen.

"Kiss my pussy, Ken, kiss my pussy!" Debbie was moaning in frenzied
abandon. "I won't let you fuck me until you kiss my pussy, hurry honey,
hurry, it's on fire, it's on fire!"

Ken could stand it no more; he knew he had to obey. He hadn't tasted a
woman's cunt lips since his wife Luci, many years ago, and yet the dim
rememberance of the wild delights of such wicked, sweet smelling
contact filled him with crazed passion. With a low moan, he knelt
before the quivering flesh of the lovely, passion-incensed teenage
girl, lips brushing her naked naval, his hands tracing down her
tingling flanks. Debbie spread her palpitating thighs, wrapping her
fingers in his thick hair, urging his head downward into the waiting
hot wetness of her pussy as she groaned out her excitement to him.
Ken's whole body was enveloped in searing flame as he buried his face
in her soft, wet pubic hair, burrowing lower through the fleecy mound,
kissing her hair, kissing the top of her wet, fiery furrow, extending
his tongue now to blaze a trail even further downward, over her
throbbing clitoris, licking it, dipping lower to lick into the wetly
secreting crevice almost to the door of her desire-inflamed vagina.

Debbie moaned and flung her hips abandonedly at the delicious contact
of Ken's tongue and lips on her aching pussy. Then she allowed her body
to go limp, sinking down onto the floor, stretching out on the cool
tiles with her legs spread as wide as they would go and pulled back
against her breasts, presenting all of her churning, wet, hot cunt for
him. "Hurry, hurry, Ken honey, oh hurry and kiss my pussy some more,
slide your tongue up into my cunt, hurry, hurrrryyyyyyyy!"

Ken crawled between the widely splayed thighs of the passion-crazed
teenage girl. His hot, moist lips mashed onto her vaginal lips with a
small cry of delight, and his tongue lashed out like a molten probe,
slipping deep, deep into her vaginal orifice in the ultimate kiss.

"Ooooooaaaaahhhhhhhhh!" Debbie cried out in mindless lust, her body
jackknifing convulsively, her legs drawn back ever further to mash her
fervently quivering breasts to her young chest, hips lifting off the
floor so that even more of her desire-flooded slit was given over to
the slavering lips and tongue of the handsome uncle of her boyfriend.
Her hands grasped his thick hair again, trying to pull his face deeper
into her squirming, lust-soaked loins.

Ken continued his wanton tonguing of her moistly trembling young
vaginal slit, his hands slipping up over her belly to her full
palpitating breasts, his mind totally committed to the act he was
performing, no thoughts of Bette or propriety or his nephew penetrating
the miasma of desire which had claimed his brain. He was reveling in
the lewd tongue fucking of this young teenage vixen, squeezing and
cupping her tits almost brutally now while his mouth and tongue
continued the wet assault of her wide-spread furrow, making obscene
sucking sounds that seemed to fill the confines of the cabana. Debbie
clenched her small hands tighter in his hair as Ken's probing fiery
tongue located the erect, pulsating button of her clitoris, and she
whined sharply as he took the tiny bud between his sharp teeth, holding
it tightly there, and began to run the tip of his tongue round and
round it in small continuing circles. Her head began to roll from side
to side in total abandonment, and the handsome uncle opened his mouth
yet wider, moving his tongue downward along the smooth, heat-moistened
slit to the throbbing hair-fringed opening of her vagina. He began to
orally fuck her, hard, hard, fast, fast, sliding his hot wet tongue up
into her hungrily clasping young passage, listening to her making
unintelligible whimpering sounds as he swirled and flicked it around
the smooth, velvet-like interior of her tight, hotly pulsing young
cuntal walls.

Ken slipped his hand beneath her thighs, pushing them further up until
they were now draped over his shoulders, the whole of her flowing
vaginal plane in naked presentation to his churning face, and then he
cupped her soft tanned buttocks in both hands as he thrust his tongue
deep, deep into the searing liquid depths of her pussy. Debbie's cries
of animal pleasure filled the cabana, and her buttocks jerked and
spasmed beneath his plunging hot tongue. Then he drew the member out
and brought it licking downward in mesmeric desire to the secret,
forbidden ring of her anus, totally lost in the sensual pleasures of
his own body and his oral lovemaking.

Debbie sucked in her breath in a gulping swallow, moaning in rapture,
and flung her loins up at the older man as hard as she could as he
brought his tongue into seething wet contact with the tiny constricted
opening of her rectum, thrusting it into the tight rubbery hole,
slitting it wide to accept just the small worming tip up inside. The
lovely teenager's body quivered uncontrollably now beneath the
overpowering assault, and her body was spasming furiously with torrent
after torrent of sensual pleasure, straining to cum, her mind chanting
wildly now. Have to cum, have to cum, have to cum ...

Abruptly, Ken withdrew his tongue from the writhing young brunette's
anal passage and returned it to her now saliva-drenched cuntal furrow,
and the dark softly curling fleece fringing her pulsing young pussy
lips. He paused for a brief moment to stare up along the sweat-slick
valley between her trembling high breasts at the twisted grimace on her
lovely wanton's face, then lowered his head and resumed his slaving
once more.

The voluptuous young girl writhed and squirmed beneath the insanely
licking tongue of Ken Clark until she thought she would surely go mad
from the sheer ecstatic rapture in her loins. Her head continued to
flail loosely from side to side on the tile floor, grinding her crotch
up into Tony's uncle's lusting face and tongue, and she felt the
gathering billows of her orgasm rising, rising, cresting, and then she
was there, she was cumming, she was cumming like a wild woman!

"Aaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh!" she screamed in rapturous delight and
she locked her hands hard in Ken's hair, drawing his face into her
exploding young cunt with all her might. Her juices began to flow from
her widespread young pussy, inundating the older man's face and tongue,
flowing down along her climatically flexing little rectum to pool in
fragrant stickiness on the tile floor beneath her. She screamed again,
and again, and Ken sucked and licked until, at long last, her cumming
was over and she sank back with a long, satiated sigh, releasing his
hair from her fingers and opening her orgasm drenched thighs to allow
him to remove his head from between her limply collapsed legs.

Ken lifted himself onto his knees, his face contorted with lust, and
his balls were a seething inferno of impending cum. The juices of her
climax made his face shine like a grotesque mask in the sunlight
shining into the cabana as he stared at the panting, glassy eyed
teenage girl. He had to fuck her now, he had to release the hotly
building cum from his balls! He had to shove his cock into her, fuck
into her, pound his cock into her tight young cunt savagely until she
begged for mercy. HE HAD TO FUCK HER!

"Ooooohhh Ken honey," she mewled, "that was wonderful, just the most
groovy cum I've had in along time ..."

"Going to fuck you now," he chanted mindlessly, "going to fuck your hot
little cunt now, going to fuck you, fuck you, fuck you ..."

As fulfilled as she was, Debbie felt a renewed surge of desire at his
obscene words, at the thought of accepting his hugely pulsating cock
into her wet, hot pussy. "Yes, yes, fuck me, Ken, fuck me honey, fuck
me good!"

He flung his body onto her, guiding his aching, swollen cock to the
waiting, lust-soaked opening of the young girl's cunt. Then he rammed
forward brutally, splitting apart the thin hair-fringed vaginal lips,
shoving all of his huge hardened length deep along the wet, hot walls
of her tight young cunt, slamming it hard off her cervix and causing
her to cry out in fresh tremors of ecstasy.

"Uuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhh, that's it, honey, that's it, that's the way to fuck
into me!"

Her hips flew up to meet his forward-thrusting ones, and his heavy
sperm-bloated testicles smacked solidly against the upturned cheeks of
her satin-soft buttocks, Ken sent his thick shaft even deeper into her
hungrily clenching channel, feeling the inner-vaginal muscles nibble at
it hungrily, and his own pelvis was grinding in a rapid revolving
motion against her, sending his great cock soaring into her young
teenage pussy in harsh, rapid strokes, slapping into her with
increasing force. He drew his blood-engorged cock nearly out of the
tight, moist sheath clasping it so hungrily, then plunged down against
her again until his heavy testicles once more slapped hard against her
tiny working anus. The pressure was mounting, mounting, in his
billowing scrotum, and his head swam wildly with the impending
knowledge of his cumming, of his filling of this wanton little bitch
with torrent after torrent of his rushing hot seed ...

Debbie began to toss her head from side to side in frenzied abandoned
ecstasy, impaled on Tony's uncle's rock-hard shaft filling her so
superbly, better than any cock had ever filled her before. Ken fastened
his mouth, still wet with the lubrication of her orgasm, to the teenage
girl's, tongue soaring into the warm wet grotto of her mouth, fusing
with hers and rapturous little moans bubbled from Debbie's throat. She
sucked at his tongue madly, trying to milk it as her pussy was trying
to milk his pistoning cock, and her legs raised back even higher to
receive his thundering shaft deeper inside.

"I'm ... I'm ... going to cum now, going to cum now, going to cum now!"
Ken mewled in mindless bliss, pulling his mouth from the young teenage
girl's and she gurgled out her agreement, her encouragement, her need.
She was almost there herself, once again, a second cumming on top of
the first, the first time in her young life anything of such mind-
blowing delight had happened to her, and she strove with every fibre of
her being for both their climaxes.

Ken increased his pace even more, deepening his thrusts as the lovely
black-haired girl writhed nakedly beneath him, grinding up and down on
his cock with incredible fury, her legs twitching, her toes curling as
she lurched her legs wide and upwards. He pounded deeper still,
pressing his hands behind her knees and thrusting them back hard
against her heaving breasts until her head was framed between them. The
tableau of her young, fiery crotch was now higher and wider open to his
increased plunges, his drubbing of her pussy.

"Ooooohhh, ooohhhh, oooohhh!" she chanted, and then her second orgasm
struck like a blow from a knuckled fist and Ken felt her pussy walls
begin to secrete their warm gushes of wet sticky fluid once again, this
time hotly around his plundering cock. She was cumming, he had to cum
too, now, right now ...

Suddenly then, Ken sensed his own impatiently churning sperm was about
to explode through his cock to fill her sensuously flaring womb. She
jerked wildly, spasming, the mouth of her cunt sucking at him
feverishly, her breath spewing against his face in short, ragged gasps
and then his climax struck fully and his balls erupted burning fire
from within them, causing his body to tremble in wild, uncontrolled
ecstasy. His juices spurted from the opening of his prickhead far and
deep up into the lovely teenage girl's violently quivering recesses ...
a never-ending flow which caused Debbie to moan in spasmodic,
indecipherable cries of delight as her belly quaked with the unleased
pool of heated male sperm he was emptying into her, their orgiastic
fluids mixing together and flowing out around his spasming cock to mat
their pubic hair together and to form tiny white droplets on the tile
floor beneath them.

And in their mindless fervor, neither of the wildly jerking, climaxing
couple--not Ken and not Debbie--saw or was aware of the shocked,
disbelieving figure of Bette Clark, just arrived home and attracted by
their cries of lustful fulfillment, standing outside the open cabana
door and staring in wide-eyed at their passion-locked nakedness ...



Chapter 5


Bette turned away from the lewd, lascivious sight of her ex-husband's
brother, and the young teenage girlfriend of her son, Tony, fucking on
the floor of the cabana, and rushed past the pool into the house,
running blindly, choking back the cry of anguish which threatened to
burst from her throat. She entered the guest room, locked the door, and
flung herself on the bed, sobbing now, unable to blot the terrible
scene she had just witnessed from her confused, stricken mind.

Oh God, oh God! her tortured mind cried. It's ... it's too awful, too
sickening ... Ken, how could you? How could you do this to me after ...
after what we had last night, after what you told me this morning? You
said you loved me, you said you wanted to marry me, and then ... and
then, the first minute I'm gone, you run around like a ... a dog on the
floor with that disgusting little bitch, Debbie Mason ... ooohhh, God,
God, what am I going to do?

Bette buried her face in the pillow, crying brokenly now. The shattered
fragments of her world, reformed and reconstructed by her homecoming to
Westridge, by her acceptance and forgiveness by Tony and Ken, by Ken's
professed love for her and her own growing emotional involvement with
the handsome brother of her dead ex-husband, were once again sharded at
her feet. Was there no hope for her future at all? Was what she had
just witnessed an omen, a warning to her, that only pain and futility
lay ahead of her, that she would never again know true peace and
happiness? God, oh God, oh God ...

The beauteous blonde mother cried bitter tears of torment for a long,
timeless period; then, abruptly, as if there were suddenly no more
moisture in her for tears, the crying ended and some semblence of calm
returned. She slid off the bed, opened the door to the hallway, and
looked out. The house was very still; Ken must still be out in the
cabana with that ... that filthy slut, Debbie. Quickly, Bette padded
down to the bathroom at the end of the hall, past Ken's and Tony's
bedrooms, and washed her face and applied fresh makeup to her pain-
etched face. Then, composed, she returned to the guest room, relocked
the door, and lay down once more on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Grimly, she forced her mind to examine the situation with cold, careful
rationality. She had to do something ... she couldn't just allow this
wanton act that she had viewed to be forgotten, she couldn't just
pretend that it had never happened. Ken had hurt her, hurt her
desperately, by his carnal coupling with Debbie Mason, and Bette knew
now that she could never marry him, could never make love with him or
love him in any way after today. It would be difficult enough to face
him again, to look into his eyes, without either crying or blurting out
in rage what she had seen. And neither of those emotional reactions
would solve anything. Still, what exactly could she do? There was no
purpose in confronting Ken with the knowledge of his lustful endeavor
with Debbie; he would either deny it boldly, or if he did admit to it,
just say he was sorry, that it had been a terrible moment of weakness,
and beg for her forgiveness. And the way Bette felt now, there was no
capacity in her for that kind of compassionate exoneration of his sin--
at least not where the two of them, and a future relationship between
them, was concerned.

And yet, even with her disappointment and bitterness in Ken, Bette
sensed deep down that he was not responsible for what had happened--was
probably still happening--in the poolside cabana; he was just a man,
weak and sexually unprincipled, like most men were. No, the blame for
Ken's transgression could be laid, the lovely young mother felt sure,
directly on the shoulders of that seductive little slut, Debbie Mason.

Bette felt a moment of unreasoning hatred for the lush, conscienceless
teenage girl. The bitch, oh the damned dirty little bitch! Rutting on
the floor with a man old enough to be her father, reveling in the feel
of his penis deep inside her--and what was worse, infinitely worse, was
the fact that that man was the uncle of the boy who claimed to be in
love with her!

Tony, poor poor Tony, Bette thought. So trusting, so good ... involved
with a slut like that, blinded by her beauty and her sensuality. God
only knew how many other boys ... how many other men ... she was
sleeping with, while Tony's love for her, blind and innocent, increased
day by day. Poor Tony, oh my poor son ...

The beauteous blonde mother bit her lower lip in anguish. What could
she do, what could she do? She couldn't go to Tony, could she? She
couldn't tell him what happened today between Debbie and his uncle,
could she? He wouldn't believe her, Bette knew that; he would think she
was lying for some reason, trying to split he and the young girl up for
some reason of her own. And he might hate her, might twist in his
adolescent mind her mother's feelings for his well-being into something
much darker and much more base. And she couldn't stand to have him hate
her anymore, not when she had seen the glimmering of returning love on
his face last night ...

The indecision swirled around in the blonde woman's brain, and still
she came to no definite conclusion as to what she could do. She only
knew that she had to do something, and soon, before it was too late. In
Tony, now that Ken had betrayed her, Bette had to place all her hopes
for salvation. If he turned on her, she would be totally destroyed--the
fact was irrefutable. And unless she helped him, completely committed
herself to her handsome young son, then she had nothing on which to
hang the last desperate remnants of her spirit.

There was the sound of a door slamming from the rear of the house, and
Bette heard Ken's slow, hesitant footsteps. They grew nearer, entering
the hall, then a moment later he knocked almost fearfully on the door.
"Bette?" he called, his voice trembling. "Bette, honey, are you in
there?"

"Yes, I'm in here," she replied, trying to make her voice calm and
toneless.

"I ... I saw the car in the garage, and I ... I knew that you'd come
home. Is ... everything all right?"

"Just fine, Ken, thank you."

"I thought you were going to ... to drive around Westridge all day," he
said.

"It got to be too hot after awhile, and I was more tired than I
thought. So I decided to come home."

"Oh," Ken said, There was a pause, then he continued, "Well, I ... I'm
not feeling so good, honey. I think I'll go lie down for awhile. I've
got a miserable headache."

I don't wonder at that, Bette thought bitterly. "All right," she said.
"Would you like me to fix supper tonight?"

"If you would. There's plenty of food in the refrigerator. But ... but
just for you and Tony okay? I don't think I'll be hungry, feeling as
lousy as I do now."

"Whatever you say, Ken."

She heard the shuffling of his steps as he continued down the hall to
his own room, heard the sound of the door closing and the key turning
in the lock. Then the house was still again. Bette got to her feet,
opened the door, and walked quietly into the kitchen. She found a
bottle of bourbon in the cabinet above the sink, and poured herself a
small drink, her lovely mouth set resolutely.

Yes, she thought with grim determination, yes, I've got to commit
myself fully and completely to Tony, in whatever way is necessary. It's
my only hope--and where Debbie Mason is concerned, Tony's only hope
too. Somehow, some way, I've got to help him, show him what Debbie
really is. Somehow, some way ...

* * *

The handsome teenage youth returned home shortly past five that
afternoon. Bette heard the sound of his Corvette as it entered the
driveway; she was in the kitchen, preparing a platter of cold cuts,
sipping from a glass filled with ice, soda, and more of the bourbon.
She felt faintly drunk, but not enough so that it would hamper her
movements or her speech; still, she knew she shouldn't have had so much
to drink, even if it did help ease the gnawing distress which filled
her lovely body. It would not do for Tony to see her even a little
intoxicated; he might get the wrong ideas about her.

Bette hurried into the guest room and found a package of mints in her
bag. She popped several into her mouth, then looked at herself in the
vanity mirror, fluffing her soft blonde hair so that it framed her
beautiful face. She looked all right, she decided. She looked just
fine. The young mother went out into the living room then, just in time
to see Tony opening the front door with his key and entering the house.

"Hi, Tony," she greeted him warmly.

"Hi," he replied, and Bette saw that he wasn't looking at her directly,
that his voice seemed cool and distant. A pang of fear and anguish
clutched at her heart.

"Is ... is something the matter, son?" she asked.

"No, why should anything be the matter?" Tony crossed the room, still
not looking at her, and entered the kitchen. A moment later he
reappeared with a frosty bottle of beer in his hand and sat on the
couch facing the fireplace--the same couch on which she and Ken had
made love last night ...

Her knees feeling weak, Bette sat on the opposite end of the couch,
folding her hands in her lap, and looked with a mixture of love and
despair at her handsome son. She forced a smile onto her pretty,
naturally pink mouth, tried to make her voice gay and light as she
said, "Well, did you have a nice day, Tony?"

"Okay, I guess."

"Where did you go?"

"Out for a drive."

"So did I. It was a beautiful day for one."

"Uh-huh."

Bette's smile faded. "Tony ... are you sure everything is okay? I mean,
well, you're so ... so distant tonight ..."

The handsome teenage youth sighed, then seemed to square his shoulders,
and his face lifted and his eyes touched his mother's. Bette saw with
increasing despair that there was no light of love in them today, at
least not nearly the kind of fervent acceptance which they had
contained last night. Could Ken have been wrong, could Tony have seen
them together last night before he entered the house, seen them making
love on the very cushions on which mother and son now sat ...

Tony said, "I've got a lot of things on my mind tonight ... Mom, that's
all. I made a big decision today."

"You did?" Bette said, eager to draw him out of the shell he seemed to
be in. "What kind of decision, son?"

Tony reached into his pocket, produced a tiny square box--a jeweler's
box. He flipped the top open with his thumbnail, extended the box so
that Bette could see inside--and there, nestled in a bed of cotton, was
a pair of sparkling diamond rings, expensive rings, one an engagement
band and the other a wedding band. "I'm going to get married, Mom," he
said firmly. "Next week, if arrangements can be made--and if Debbie
will have me so soon. But I think she will. Anyway, I'm going over to
propose to her tonight ..."

Bette felt as if she had been kicked in the stomach. She couldn't seem
to catch her breath, and faint black dots swam in back of her eyes. She
thought for a minute that she was going to faint, then the feeling
passed and she stared incredulously at her handsome son. "Tony ... you
can't be serious ..." she stammered.

"Why not?"

"Well ... well, you're too young, you're only eighteen and ... and you
said you wanted to go to college next September ..."

"I'll still be going to college," Tony said. "And I'm old enough to
know my own mind, to know that Debbie and I are in love and that I want
her to be my wife ..."

No, no, no, no! Bette thought despairingly. Oh God, no, Tony you can't
you can't marry that cheating little bitch! I've got to stop you,
somehow I've got to stop you ... but you won't believe me if I tell you
about what I saw in the cabana this afternoon, I know you won't ...

She said falteringly, "What ... what brought on this sudden decision?
You didn't say anything about marriage last night."

"It's not a sudden decision and I didn't say anything about it because
... well, I wanted it to be a secret until I picked up the rings and
asked Debbie. I probably shouldn't be telling you now, not until I have
Deb's answer, but it doesn't make any difference I guess. I might as
well tell Uncle Ken, too. Where is he? In his study?"

"No, he's lying down. He doesn't feel very well."

"Then I guess I'll wait until later tonight, or tomorrow to tell him.
Don't say anything to him until I talk to him first, okay?"

"If ... if that's what you want."

Tony studied his mother for a moment. "How come you sound so upset? You
ought to be happy for me, if you love me as much as Uncle Ken says you
do."

"I do love you, Tony! I love you very, very much. It's just that I ...
I'm so surprised. This is all so sudden ..."

"Yeah, sure," Tony said. He finished his beer, then got to his feet.
"Guess I'll go take a quick shower and get ready for supper."

"Tony ..."

"Yeah?"

"Tony, couldn't you wait for awhile? A few months at least, until
you're very sure that marrying Debbie is what you really want."

"I'm very sure now," he said positively. "Very sure."

"Son ... suppose she's not the right kind of girl for you ..."

His eyes narrowed, and he snapped defensively, "What do you mean by
that?"

Bette swallowed hard. "N-nothing," she stuttered. "I ... I ..." She
felt tears welling in her eyes, and she pressed her hands over her
face, turned, and fled from the room.

Lying once again on the bed in the guest room, more tears spilling down
over her cheeks, Bette felt a fresh sense of impending doom. This was
the very thing she had dreaded, the turning out of her by her son and
the embracing of Debbie Mason in her place. But she couldn't let Tony
marry that little slut, she couldn't! She would only bring him eventual
pain and misery and heart break, of that Bette had no doubt at all. She
had to stop him, she had to stop him!

But how?

How?

* * *

Supper was a grim affair, eaten in silence, and the lovley blonde
mother's heart skipped a beat of anguish every time she looked at her
son. He ate quickly, without seeming to taste his food, while Bette
picked at her portion, having no appetite at all, managing to choke
down only a few mouthfuls of the delicious cold cuts she had prepared.

She was slicing a wedge of melon for him, ice-cold from the
refrigerator, when the telephone rang.

Tony said, "I'll get it, it might be Debbie." He jumped up and hurried
into the living room, to where the phone was. Bette busied herself at
the counter with the melon, put it on a plate, and set it in Tony's
place. She thought about pouring herself a drink, which she wanted
desperately, then decided it wasn't such a good idea with Tony still
there in the house. She compromised by opening a beer for herself. She
was sipping from a tall glass when her handsome young son returned from
the living room, a perplexed frown on his face.

"That was Debbie," he said. "Her grandmother's sick over in Walnut
Grove, and the whole family's leaving right now. She won't be back
until tomorrow evening."

Bette felt a resurgence of hope, a sense of having been reprieved for
just a little while. "You didn't ... propose to her over the phone, did
you?"

"No," Tony answered. "She was in pretty much of a hurry, and a
telephone is no place for such an important thing anyway."

"Then ... you won't be asking her until she returns tomorrow night."

"I guess not," Tony said. He looked at his mother coldly for a moment.
"I suppose that makes you happy, huh?"

"Oh, Tony ..."

"Aww forget it, I'm sorry," he mumbled. He sat down at the table and
began to eat the ice-cold melon she had placed there.

Bette stood watching him for a time, her brain whirling as she tried to
conjure up a plan, some method of proving to Tony what a slut Debbie
was, of winning his once-again-cooled love for herself so that she
would have a chance for future peace and happiness. But still she could
think of nothing, and she knew she was trying too hard, that her
confused mind was not functioning as well as it should. She had to calm
herself, think, think ... because now, perhaps irrationally, she had
the premonition that everything might turn out all right, might turn
out happily for her and Tony if only she could hit upon the proper plan
...

* * *

Stretched out on the bed in his darkened bedroom, Ken lay with his
hands clasped behind his head and stared at nothing while his thoughts
jumbled together in his mind. He felt miserable, sick at his very soul,
ashamed and repentant, at what he had done that afternoon with the
wanton black-haired Debbie Mason--the sudden and consuming weakness,
the fiery lust, which had led him to lick the teenage bitch's pussy and
then to drive his long, hard cock up into her tight belly, panting like
a dog there on the cabana floor ...

Christ, what was the matter with him, to have lost control like that?
He had always been a fairly moral man, had always been able to check
his surging passions before ... and now, all of a sudden, he was putty
in the grip of a hot-blooded little slut like Debbie Mason. And what
made it even more terrible, even more inexplicable, was his newfound
and powerful love for Bette ... lonely, confused, desperate Bette, who
needed love and kindness and happiness in the worst way, who was open
and receptive to him and his love, who had those beautiful shared
moments of sheer ecstacy with him on the living room couch last night.
If she ever found out it would crush her ... God, there was no telling
what she might do then!

But she must never find out, Ken thought. Never! He had to protect her
from the knowledge of his affair with the voluptuous young girlfriend
of his nephew, had to bury this afternoon in the caverns of his own
mind as if it had never taken place. And above all, he had to make sure
that nothing like the episode with Debbie ever took place again ... had
to put a tight reign on his emotions, so that all of his love--all of
his sexual desires--were channeled toward Bette, the woman he now
loved.

Even so, the guilt-ridden uncle knew that something had to be done
about Debbie Mason ... that while he could live with his own guilt at
having succumbed to her charms, he could not live with himself if he
allowed her to work her wicked spell on Tony. He was inordinately fond
of his nephew, and the thought that Tony was becoming deeply and
emotionally involved with a slut like Debbie was painful. Suppose he
fell so deeply in love with her that he wanted to marry her--Christ,
Ken couldn't let that happen, the youth had to somehow be shown what
Debbie really was.

Yet--how could he do that without admitting his own guilt, something
that he didn't dare do?

God, God, why did life have to be so complicated. Why couldn't things
be simple, and good ... why couldn't the three of them--he and Bette
and Tony--live together in peace and harmony and happiness and love?

Someday ... someday they could ...

* * *

Midnight.

Unable to sleep, Bette lay in her light, short summer nightgown,
searching her mind again and again--as she had all that evening--for
some answer to her quandary. And still a plan of action evaded her. She
did not have anymore idea now what to do than she had earlier, did not
know how to save Tony from the clutches of that bitch Debbie and from
his own foolish actions, did not know how to make him love her, his
mother, as deeply as she had discovered that she loved him.

Bette looked at the clock on the bedside table--saw the time. God, is
that all it is? she thought. It's been an interminable day, a horrible
day ... seeing Ken and Debbie in the cabana ... hearing Tony announce
his plans to marry Debbie next week, looking at the rings he had bought
for her ... the hours of silence after supper, while Tony watched
television and she sat alone with her own thoughts ...

The lovely blonde mother sighed piteously, then swung her feet over the
side of the bed. She had to use the bathroom, and she needed a drink of
water as well to soothe her parched throat, dry from all the thinking
she had done. Opening the door to the hall, she walked softly through
the dark, silent house to the bathroom, performed her duty, drank her
glass of water, then sighed again and started back to the guest room.

As she passed Tony's room, Bette saw that the door was slightly ajar.
She stopped, looking at it, and she felt in that moment a deep,
motherly need to look at her son, to see him sleeping--a sight she had
not been privileged to witness since ... since she had gone away. Her
heart throbbed painfully in her beautiful breast as Bette tip-toed
forward, pushed open the door, and peeped into Tony's room.

Her son lay quietly in his bed, covered by just a sheet which he had
kicked down in his sleep, and his muscled, youthful chest rose and fell
steadily with his breathing. A pale wash of moonlight flooded in
through the window next to the bed, illuminating the handsome youth as
he lay there, and Bette could see him clearly; love and deep pride
flowed along her spine, clutched at her throat as she watched her son
sleeping. He was so handsome, so masculine, so wonderful ...

As if sub-consciously aware of her eyes on him, Tony stirred on the
bed, moaning softly in his sleep, rolling full onto his back. His feet
kicked convulsively at the sheet covering him, and the white bedclothes
rustled as the covering drifted down, down over his abdomen and over
his thighs to puddle around his knees.

And Bette was suddenly looking right at her son's penis.

An involuntary gasp strangled in the lovely blonde mother's throat, but
Tony didn't stir anymore on the bed. He lay peacefully, his face in
repose once again, his legs parted slightly to expose the full sight of
his manhood to his mother's widening eyes. His cock, flaccid, lay
largely nestled in the thick hummock of his balls, the head huge and
red, the glans opening seemingly immense to the staring mother.

Bette couldn't take her eyes off the limp, sleeping penis of this youth
she loved so much. It's ... it's so big! she thought in awe. It's as
big as David's ever was, as big as Ken's ... but he was such a little
boy, I can remember giving him baths when he was younger and his penis
was so little, a little boy's penis and now ... now he's a man ...

Bette felt a sudden dryness in her mouth and throat as she stared at
the naked, powerful form of her son, at the size of his limply lying
young cock. She knew she should turn away, return to the guest room ...
do anything but stand here staring so boldly at her son's penis and
testicles. But she could only stand immobile, moistening her pink lips,
and in her mind she once again, unwittingly, began to relive the scene
between Ken and herself the night before ... Ken's hard, thick penis
deep inside her belly, the sensations his driving weapon caused in her
... her spiraling delight, the moment of her orgasm with that huge
penis inside her ... a penis like Tony's ... Tony's penis, giving so
much pleasure that a woman would have to cry out her delight to him
over and over and over again ...

A deep, hot tingling sensation began in Bette's stomach, and the lovely
young mother could feel the tightness of her pussy begin to flower wide
with beginning droplets of secretion. Her nipples hardened almost
achingly beneath her nightgown, and her breathing began to become
ragged and excited. Her eyes feasted on her son's softly reclining
length, envisioning it hard now, hard as Ken's had been last night, and
as her fantasies became more vivid, bolder, the fiery burning of
passion increased proportionately in her loins and breasts and belly.

She began perspiring, and her mind churned with desire. She had the
wild, crazy thought of going to Tony, her son, touching his penis,
making it hard so that she could see the full size of it. Then she
shook her head sharply, trying to rid herself of the lewd idea. What
was the matter with her, for God's sake? That was her son there, her
son! She couldn't think of her own son like that, think about his
penis, his big penis, his big hard cock ...

The fire of sexual deprivation was raging nearly out of control inside
the lovely mother now, the fire which Ken had once again stirred into
hot flames the night before, stirred and set to raging and demanding
more fuel. It was fed now by her licentious thoughts, by the sight of
her own son's naked penis. She had to have release, she had to! She was
trembling so hard she thought she was going to fall down, and she had
to do something ...

Stifling a small cry, Bette rushed out of her son's room and up the
hall to the guest room. Then she lay down on the bed, gasping, and in
her mind was locked the burning image of Tony's cock, flaccid and yes,
hard, rock-hard, as big as she imagined it would be in full erection
... her son's huge, pleasure-giving penis ...

It suddenly seemed as hot as an oven in the guest room, and Bette
pulled her nightgown over her head, lay there completely nude with her
firm, rich breasts rising and falling erratically, the image of her
son's cock vividly real in her mind. Almost involuntarily then, staring
down at her taut breasts, soft-fleshed globes like twin roseate
mountain peaks, feeling the churning fire in her wet, hot pussy, Bette
moved one hand down and touched her right, desire-swollen tit, touched
its nipple, and then pulled her hand back quickly. The contact of her
own fingers had intensified the steady aching in her cunt, and her
entire being quivered with sexual arousal. She ran her tongue over her
lips several times, trying to dispel the arid, cottony taste there,
thinking about Tony's penis ... Tony's huge penis ...

No, no, it's wrong to think about your own son that way! A small part
of her mind cried. He's your son, your own flesh and blood ... for
God's sake, you can't have sexual thoughts about the boy that you love,
that came into this world from your own womb!

But her inflamed body paid no attention, and the image of her son's
cock remained just as vivid, just as exciting, in her mind. As if it
was a separate entity, then, Bette's right hand drifted down once again
and began to massage her breast, slowly, rhythmically, avoiding the
nipple at first, cupping the creamy naked globe in her fingers,
kneading the translucent flesh and causing whirlpools of passion to
seethe within her lovely body. She spread her legs wide, convulsively,
her breathing ragged now, and then she touched the nipple of her breast
with her thumb, felt it diamond hard. She rolled the ball of her thumb
back and forth across the erect crest, intensifying further the rising
crescendo of sexual frenzy within her.

The beauteous blonde mother arched her back, raising her hips off the
bed, spreading wide the hot, wet slit of her pussy. Still she massaged
her now wildly trembling breast, teasing the nipple, pinching it
between thumb and forefinger until it throbbed like a thing alive.

Tony's cock, my son's cock ...

Bette could stand it no longer. Her other hand dipped down, down,
between her widespread thighs, gentling her middle finger into the warm
wetness of her eager, fiery hot slit. The feeling generated by the
touch of her own finger on her wet genitalia caused Bette to moan
silently with rapture. She manipulated the softly hair-lined inner lips
until she could feel them swelling with the rush of blood, and her
clitoris was rigid and tingling. Her middle finger came in contact with
the trembling hot bud, and she began to gasp with total abandoned
delight.

Oh Tony, my darling Tony ... ooohhhhh ...

Her finger began to rub faster and faster across the sensitive tip of
her clit, and the lovely young mother blanked her mind of all thoughts
save for her son's huge penis and the delicious ecstatic sensations
flowing through her flesh. Her hips flailed frantically at the
bedclothes as wave after maddening wave of wild ecstacy soared through
her, and she could feel her climax building, building within her. Her
left hand squeezed her breast, hard, released it, squeezed it harder,
manipulating the nipple, rolling it with maddening delight under the
ball of her thumb as the heat spiraled higher and higher and her mind
chanted almost hypnotically as her finger flashed with ever-increasing
strokes over her hot, wet clitoris, I'm going to cum ... going to cum
... I'm going to cum ...

And then she came!

"Ooooohhhhh!" she cried out in a low gasping whimper, and her body
seemed to shake as if with some incredible inner vibration. Her finger
continued to rub hard across her clitoris, even as the intense bursting
waves of release seared to every nerve in her beautiful body, and her
left hand continued to convulsively squeeze her plaint young breast.
Her climax seemed to last for a wonderful, rapturous eternity, her
hotly seeping pussy walls secreting warm thick liquid softly onto the
sheet beneath her, painting her rapidly moving finger with orgiastic
fluid--and as her cum began to ebb, she moaned again and again with
delight at the feelings which had seized control of her body. Then,
finally, it was completely over and she sagged back on the bed, her
hair fanning on the pillow like a silken screen around her head, and
she felt weak and drained and tingling with delicious satiation.

She lay there, and slowly the image of Tony's penis faded from her mind
and she waited for the guilt, the shame, which was sure to follow her
fingering herself into orgasm ... her desperate, organistic release
while thinking about her own teenage son's testicles and penis, her own
sweet flesh and blood. And yet, the guilt and the shame never came.
Instead, in a sudden flash of inspiration, the answer to everything
rushed into her mind. With a tingle of excitement, Bette knew that it
was just that--the answer--and she knew exactly what she had to do.

Determination filled her now, determination and something else,
something deeper and far more base an emotion. She had to save her son
from that scheming little bitch Debbie Mason, and there were two sure
ways of doing that; combined, they would destroy his love for the
black-haired young slut forever, channel it elsewhere, channel it where
Bette so desperately wanted it; all for her. There was a terrible risk
involved in her plan, the risk of losing Tony completely and
irrevocably if she failed in her mission, and yet--if he married
Debbie, moved away, she would be losing him anyway. The risk was worth
it, well worth it. And if she succeeded, the bliss and love and
happiness that she needed would be hers, would be all hers.

She had to take the chance, she had to, there was simply no other way.

She had to prove to Tony, confront his very eyes with unmistakable and
undeniable proof, what a slut Debbie really was.

After first making love to him herself!

The idea of sexual relationship with her son, that handsome youth she
had discovered she loved so desperately the past two days, was at once
appalling and terribly, wickedly exciting. She knew she wanted him,
that she loved him desperately ... her just completed finger-fucking of
herself while thinking of his hard young penis was concrete evidence of
that deep-rooted feeling ... and making physical love to him would
forever cement the bond between them, would make them as close as was
possible for a mother and son to be, tie them so tightly that no one
would ever be able to break the bond, not even themselves.

As much as the idea frightened her, repelled her, entranced and excited
her, Bette knew that she was going to go through with it. She had to
save Tony, save herself, and she had to show her young son how much she
really loved him. Those were the only things that mattered, really
mattered. And she had to do it soon, tomorrow, before he had the chance
to propose to Debbie ...

The beauteous young mother lay in the darkness, thinking, planning, and
as she did so her pussy once again began to secrete tiny wet droplets
of desire at the salacious, enticing thought of possessing her son
completely and totally, for her very own ...



Chapter 6


Bette put the first part of her plan into operation shortly after
breakfast the following morning.

Breakfast itself was cheerless and silent and strained. Ken was the
first to come into the kitchen, and when he did so, Bette was at the
stove preparing bacon and eggs and coffee. She allowed him to kiss her,
noticing the deep bags under his eyes, the hollow, grayish look to his
face that told her he was soul-sick at what he had done with Debbie in
the cabana yesterday--and for a moment her heart went out to him. Then
her resolution firmed, and she knew that she had to go through with the
plan she had conceived the night before ... that there was no other
alternative now, not if she wanted to save Tony and herself. It was too
bad if Ken was hurt further in the bargain, but he had had his chance,
and he had failed her, failed both of them with his weakness. She could
no longer accord him primary consideration, not now, not with her and
Tony's future hanging in the balance.

Tony entered moments after his uncle, said a perfunctory good morning
to both of them then fell into a deep brooding silence. Ken couldn't
seem to look at either his nephew or Bette, and he ate with his head
bowed at his plate, the guilt that was his clearly evident on his face.
He drank the last of his coffee, announced that he had a lot of work to
do today and would be spending all his time in the study, and then left
the lovely blonde mother and her son alone.

Bette said softly, "What are you planning to do today, son?"

"I don't know," he replied. "Probably just lie around the pool all day
until Debbie comes home tonight."

"What time is she due back from Walnut Grove?"

"Eight o'clock."

"Well ... maybe she'll be spending another night there," Bette said. "I
mean if her grandmother's so ill ..."

"No, she said she was coming back tonight, even if her mother and
father stay there. Tomorrow's Saturday, and she has a part-time job at
Woolworth's on Saturday."

"I see," Bette said speculatively. Then she looked fondly, lovingly, at
her handsome young son. "I wasn't planning to do anything today either.
Maybe we could swim together this afternoon if you'd like."

"I guess so," he replied unenthusiastically.

After she had cleared away the breakfast dishes and Tony had changed
into his swim trunks and gone out by the pool, Bette slipped quietly
into Ken's bedroom. On top of his dresser she found a note pad,
personalized with his name across the top, and she smiled determinedly
to herself; so far, so good. In her room, she wrote a note on one of
the sheets of paper, disguising her handwriting, then slipped the note
into an envelope and sealed it.

Leaving the house, she walked briskly through the quiet, tree-shaded
streets to the address of Debbie Mason, which she had looked up in the
local telephone directory. She slipped the envelope, on which she had
printed Debbie's name, into the Mason's mailbox then returned directly
to Ken's house and changed into her own bathing suit--a tight one-piece
black affair that accentuated the taut, high curves of her breasts and
the firm roundness of her buttocks. Then she joined Tony by the pool.

The day passed slowly at first then quickly for the anticipatory blonde
mother. She swam a little but mostly sat on the patio, watching her
handsome tanned young son either swimming with long graceful strokes or
stretched out on a blanket in the sun, working on his tan. Such a fine
hard-muscled body, she thought often. So strong ... so masculine ...
and his penis, you can see it outlined by the tightness of his trunks,
so big and long and wonderful ... I can't wait until tonight; I can't
wait to prove my love to him in the finest way possible ... oh God, I
hope everything works out all right tonight; so many things could go
wrong ... Debbie might not get the note, and if she does, she might not
respond ... but I know her kind, and if she reads what I wrote, she'll
do what the note says ... she'll have to because of her damned bitch's
ego ... but will Tony agree to what I ask him later on, and if he does
will he hate me, reject me when I make love to him ...? no, no, I can't
think like that, I have to think everything will be all right, I have
to, I have to!

Ken didn't come out of his study all day, at least not to Bette's
knowledge, and when she prepared supper and knocked on the door, he
told her in a still weary voice that he was going to keep on working.
The tone of his voice, his obvious guilt at what he had done yesterday
with Debbie, filled the lovely blonde woman with more doubts about her
plan. Suppose Debbie followed the note and Ken rejected her. Suppose
his repentance was so deeply rooted that he refused to have anything
more to do with the black-haired little vixen? Suppose ...

Stop it, stop it! she snapped at herself. Ken is a man, isn't he, and
Debbie is the kind of bitch that won't be denied. Even if he denies
writing the note, she won't be deterred. I know her kind too well.
Everything is going to work out, I know it ... it has to work out, it
just has to!

She returned to the kitchen, served supper to Tony, watching him
covertly as he ate. She waited until he had pushed his plate away,
sighing, then took a deep breath and asked, "Tony, I wonder if you
could do me a big favor tonight? I ... I know I have no real right to
ask, but, well ... I am your mother and I do love you very much and I
... well, I don't think it's too much to ask."

Tony looked at her, frowning slightly, "What is it?" he wanted to know.

"I'd like you to take me for a drive tonight--out to the lake, just the
two of us. Remember how we used to drive out there together when you
were younger, on summer nights like this? How we used to sit and watch
the sunset on the water, and the way it turned different colors just
before dark?"

The handsome teenager's frown deepened. "I have to see Debbie tonight,
you know that, Mom. She'll be home at eight ..."

"I'm not asking for much, son. Just an hour or so of your time. It'll
be dark about eight, and then we can come back and you can drop me off
and drive over to Debbie's. She'll wait a few minutes for you, won't
she? After all, Tony ... you're going to have her for the rest of your
life ... you can give your mother just a few short minutes. Please,
Tony, please!"

He studied his lovely blonde mother for a moment, the look of almost
desperate entreaty on her face, and try as he might, he couldn't hate
her or even deny her in that moment. He felt a deep sense of closeness
with her, a deep sense of compassion similar to that which he had
experienced upon first seeing her yesterday afternoon. In spite of what
he had seen last night, the lewd sight of her naked legs wrapped so
tightly around his uncle's back in the flickering firelight in the
living room, he couldn't find it in himself to refuse her plea, not
with that look of pain and hope etched on her face again. He wasn't
that callous or that hard, and she wasn't asking for so very much. He
knew that he had to go through with his original idea of marrying
Debbie and moving out of his uncle's house; there was just no other
way, but he could grant his mother this one small favor. Debbie would
still be waiting for him when he returned, and he could ask her to
marry him then give her the ring that he'd bought ...

"Okay, Mom," he said. "I'll take you for a ride out to the lake
tonight."

Bette's heart leapt with love and excitement. "Oh Tony, thank you! You
... you don't know how much this means to me!"

"Sure, Mom."

She hurriedly did the dishes then told her handsome teenage son that
she would be ready to go in just a couple of minutes. She ran into the
guest room, stripped her slacks and shirt and undergarments off and put
on a pair of shorts and a loose pullover blouse--nothing more. She felt
deliciously wicked, and her breasts and loins ached with mounting
excitement and desire as she thought of what, with luck--would be
happening between her and her son in just a little while ...

At her insistence, they took Ken's new Pontiac; she said that sports
cars made her nervous, and besides, Uncle Ken wouldn't mind if they
used his new car. Tony put the top down, and they drove through the
early summer evening, the wind rippling their hair, blowing cool across
Bette's beautiful face and further enhancing her excitement. Her pussy
was already secreting tiny droplets of excitedly rising desire as she
sat with one shapely thigh resting on the seat, leaning against the
passenger door, watching her virile young son as he drove with fast
certain ease.

Oh I love you, Tony, she thought, I truly love you and it won't be long
now before I prove just how much I love you and show you how wrong you
are about Debbie Mason ...

They reached the lake and drove around it, and the cool night, the
falling sun setting fire to the western sky seemed to bring him out of
the shell he had been in for the past two days. He began to talk to his
mother, hesitantly at first, then more openly, and though he carefully
avoided any personal topics--discussing the weather, the scenery and
other things--Bette was eager for his every word and encouraged him
with light bantering comments of her own.

She knew exactly where she wanted to go, where she wanted this
monumental loving of her son to take place--the promontory on which she
had first been unfaithful with Hale Bixby that night more than five
years ago. It was somehow fitting, somehow perfectly ironic that she
should regain what was left of her family in exactly the same spot she
had started to forsake them--if she was to regain Tony's love. But
confidence was strong in her now ... confidence and a deep abiding
love, and she was a truly motivated woman.

She directed Tony around the lake to where the promontory was located
then told him, "Drive out onto that bluff honey, and we'll sit there
and watch the sunset. It's quiet and deserted and facing due west.
It'll be beautiful."

"All right, Mom," the teenage youth agreed.

Tony parked the Pontiac, switched off the engine, and they sat talking
quietly about more nonpersonal subjects while they watched the sun
sinking further and further beyond the horizon. The sky was awash with
pink brush strokes and colors of pale gray and amethyst, and the waters
of the lake turned from a deep indigo to slate and then to flame and
then to a deepening shadowed black. There was an almost magic allure in
the air which Bette could feel, and which she knew Tony could feel too,
and she sensed that they would never be closer without physical contact
than they were at this very moment. Now was the time to act, right now
...

The handsome teenager turned and smiled at his mother, and as he did
so, Bette hugged herself and said in a breathless voice, "Tony, I'm a
little cold. Can I scoot over and sit beside you until we go?"

"Gee Mom ... maybe I'd better just put up the top ..."

"No, no, I like the breeze on my face," she replied quickly. "But I
would like to sit next to you. Please, Tony?"

"Well ... okay," Tony relented.

Bette slid over next to him, her bare thigh pressing against his leg,
her breast against his upper arm. Suddenly, the young boy became aware
of the soft spongy warm globe pressed against him--acutely aware of it-
-and he realized his mother wasn't wearing a bra under that loose
blouse of hers. He tried to blink away the thought of her breast, but
the feel of it so warm next to him was somehow exciting. Uncomfortable,
he shifted slightly, but she moved with him, pressing her breast
tighter against him, pressing her thigh tighter against his leg, and
tiny droplets of sweat broke out on Tony's forehead despite the cool
night breeze.

Bette looked up at him, her heart threatening to burst from her chest
now that the moment was almost at hand and then leaned up and kissed
his cheek, letting her lips linger on his freshly shaved skin, excited
by the fragrance of his cologne. Tony looked at her, startled by her
action, then managed a weak smile.

Bette said, "Honey ... put your arm around me. I ... I'd like to feel
your arm around me again."

"Mom ..."

"Please, Tony dear, please?"

The handsome youth was unable to refuse the request and finally he
lifted his arm and placed it gingerly around his mother's shoulders.
Immediately, the lovely blonde woman snuggled even closer to him,
resting her head on his shoulder, pressing her breast hotly into his
rib cage. She could feel her pussy secreting more flowing liquid now,
and her buttocks squirmed ever so slightly on the cool leather of the
car seat.

"Tony," she whispered. "Oh Tony, I love you so very much!"

And before he could reply, before she lost her nerve, the trembling
young mother took her son's hand and pressed it tightly over her right
breast, holding it there against the spongy softness of the firm, taut
globe ...

* * *

When the doorbell rang at eight-thirty, Ken was in the kitchen fixing
himself a stiff brandy and water.

The sound of the bell was very loud in the still house, and the guilt-
ridden uncle started violently at its sudden intrusion, spilling some
of his drink. Insistently, the bell sounded again. Ken put his drink
down, wondering who the hell could be calling now, wanting to be alone,
wanting to get drunk suddenly, now that he had finished the magazine
art layout in which he had totally and almost fanatically immersed
himself all day. Both Tony and Bette were gone, and so was his Pontiac,
and he had decided that they'd gone somewhere or other together--which
was just as well, since he still wasn't ready or able to face either of
them ...

The doorbell--incessantly impatient now--buzzed again, shattering the
fragile quiet once more. Ken drew a deep breath then walked quickly
through the silent house, the headache which he had had all day
pounding maddeningly in his temples and pulled open the door, words of
angry denunciation for the repeated ringing on his lips--words that
were never put to voice--for when he saw who stood on the flagstone
porch outside, they froze in his throat.

Debbie Mason, smiling her seductive siren's smile, was his evening
caller.

Ken's eyes went wide, and his face flamed, and the guilt and shame that
he felt welled up into a tight bitter ball in his stomach. He thought
about closing the door, blotting out the intimately smiling face of the
lovely black-haired girl whose flesh he had known so completely the day
before, but he couldn't seem to do it. He could only stare at her, at
her voluptuous body encased in a different pair of hot pants and a
sleeveless jersey, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders.

"What ... what do you want?" he demanded in a tremulous voice.

"Well, that's a fine greeting after that note you wrote me," Debbie
answered mockingly, her eyes insolent as they studied the front of his
trousers with hot recollection of his huge cock. She moistened her lips
with growing desire, the same desire which she had had when she'd read
his note, and which had brought her over here immediately.

Ken frowned. "What note?"

"Oh come on now, honey, you know what note."

"No ... no, I don't."

"The note that read, and I quote: "Please come to see me tonight,
Debbie. There won't be anyone home, and I have to have you again. I've
been going crazy with wanting you, and I want to hold you in my arms
and do the same things to you that I did yesterday in the cabana.
Please come, Debbie, I'll go crazy if you don't!"

"I ... I never wrote any note like that," Ken exclaimed in a shocked
voice.

"Oh, I get it," Debbie whispered huskily. "You've had a change of heart
since you wrote it. Well, I know how you really feel now, don't I?
There's no use in kidding ourselves. I came to you, just like you
asked, and in spite of my better judgment. I should be home waiting for
Tony. But since you said you'd be alone, I thought I'd come over and
let you give me a good, quick fuck before I see him. I really do like
that big cock of yours inside me, sweet, just the way it was yesterday,
and I can't wait for it to fill me up again!"

"You're ... you're crazy!" Ken whispered fervently, but Debbie just
laughed insolently, provocatively, and stepped past him to enter the
house as if she owned it. Her hips switched exaggeratedly as she walked
into the living room.

Ken stared after her, confusion reigning supreme in his body, wanting
to scream at the little bitch to get out of his house, to get out of it
right now ... and yet he couldn't take his eyes off her sensuously
rolling young buttocks, remembering the feel of their softly squirming
cheeks beneath his kneading fingers yesterday, the way she had moaned
and writhed and flung herself against him in the cabana while he had
emptied great gushing torrents of his hotly boiling cum into her tight,
hot young pussy ...

Involuntarily, Tony's uncle felt his cock spasm into half-arousal in
his pants, felt himself losing control again just as he had yesterday,
and a low moan of self-loathing died in his throat. He was sick, that's
what he was, sick to be captivated and enthralled by a girl young
enough to be his daughter, by a young cruel bitch who didn't care about
him or Tony or anything but her own hedonistic pursuits and pleasures.
There was no note, Ken thought bitterly. It was something she made up,
an excuse to come over and torment him again ...

He went into the living room, and the black-haired teenage girl was
standing there with her hands on her hips, her abdomen thrust out
lewdly to him. "Do you want to fuck me here or in your bed, Ken honey?"
she asked lewdly. "I'd like it in your bed, if you want the truth. I
love to fuck in a bed, a big soft bed with a big hard cock ...

"I ... I don't want you anywhere!" Ken cried confusedly. "I want you to
go away, leave me alone, leave me alone!"

Lazily, seductively, Debbie stepped up to him and stood so that her
large, firm young breasts were almost touching the front of his shirt.
"There's no use in trying to kid me, honey. I can see how much you want
me. I can see it by the big bulge there in your pants. You've got a
hard-on just thinking about fucking, you can't deny it, sweet. Your big
cock gives you away."

Her obscene words, her bold actions, sent Ken's mind into a whirlpool
of fear and trepidation. And yet, they also caused a quickening of his
pulse, hot tingles of desire to shoot through his loins, his prick to
jump into even further arousal in his pants. His eyes were fastened on
the rise and fall of her breasts, on the taut, flat mound of her tight
young cunt and the wild ecstasy it offered.

Oh Christ! His desire-weakened mind cried. It's happening again and I
can't stop it!

"Well, sweet?" Debbie asked. "Where shall we fuck? In your bed?"

"N-no, I ... I ..."

The black-haired young girl laughed softly, delightedly. Boy, oh boy,
she thought, is he shook up! I can do anything I want with Tony's
uncle, anything at all, and what a great feeling it is to be able to
turn a big strong man like him on. He's better than any cock I've had
... he really knows what screwing is all about ... mmmm, tonight I
think I'll let him shove it into my asshole ... I haven't been fucked
in the asshole in a long time, and with his huge prick it should really
feel great ...

Still chuckling wickedly, Debbie pressed her young hot body tightly
against Ken's, her mouth finding his and grinding hard against it, her
hands sliding familiarly over his buttocks. He tried to resist, tried
to force her mouth away from his, but he seemed to have no strength or
real will to oppose her. Her hot wet tongue lashed between his lips, a
hot poker of desire blending against his own, hot and fevered, fucking
his mouth, fucking it rapaciously.

Ken, all at once, stopped fighting. There was just no use, no use at
all; he couldn't control himself; he had to have her again, he had to!
His mouth opened wider, his body relaxing, and he crushed her against
him, his fingers brutally kneading her buttocks through the material of
the hot pants, his loins grinding his now-rock-hard cock urgently
against her young cunt, a low moan of abandoned desire escaping from
the very core of him.

They stood like that, sucking on one another's tongues, exploring one
another's bodies with their eager hands; then Debbie broke the kiss and
stepped back breathlessly. "Let's go in the bedroom now, sweet," she
breathed. "Let's get into your bed and fuck and fuck and fuck!"

"Yes, oh yes!" Ken heard himself reply, his body on fire, the heat of
his desire blanking his mind again just as it had the day before in the
cabana. He didn't care about anything in that moment, not about Bette
or Tony or himself and his mental salvation--all he cared about was
driving his hard, throbbing shaft deep up into the tight eager young
belly of this predatory bitch in whose web he was undeniably entrapped
...

* * *

Tony gasped in shocked surprise as he felt his mother take his hand and
place it over her breast, squeeze his fingers onto the soft, warm
mound. His penis gave an involuntary leap in his trousers, and his
heart thudded wildly while his brain spun in disbelief at his mother's
wanton action. He tried to remove his hand, but she was holding it
tightly across her palpitating flesh, and the softness of her breast
was like electrical volts running up the length of his arm and
exploding in his brain.

"My God, what ... what are you doing, Mom?" he managed to protest in a
hoarse voice.

"Tony darling, I love you, I love you desperately!" she answered
pantingly, her eyes half-lidded sensually and probing into his. "I want
to prove that to you in the best possible way." She took his hand
lower, sliding it under the bottom of her loose blouse, up along her
naked belly, holding it then over the rich, soft, hot sponginess of her
pliantly bare breasts, the palm pressing tautly against the turgid
nipple capping her firm mound.

The teenage youth gasped again, and he twisted on the seat, staring
down at his mother on the seat beside him. Her bare breast sent fiery
needles through his whole body now, and the sweat on his forehead
increased. His brain continued to spin; he didn't understand, couldn't
fathom in that moment what was happening here ...

Her son's hand made Bette shiver with lascivious delight as she held it
pressed over her trembling breast. "Oh son, son, your hand feels so
good on my breast! I like you to hold me like that; I love you to!"

Tony couldn't seem to breathe. The sweat had flowed down into his eyes
now, obscuring his vision. Christ, what was she doing? He was her son,
not ... not Ken or one of her lovers; didn't she realize that? His
mother ... what had come over her, acting this way? Was she ... was she
so sick as to want him to ... to want her own son to fuck her the way
Uncle Ken had fucked her two nights ago?

Bette turned her face up to his, breathing warm sweetness against his
skin, her eyes shining and deep in the darkness of early night with
something Tony had seen only on women who were about to be loved--women
like Debbie when he held her naked in his arms. She began to move his
hand around and around her breast, the palm rolling her rigid nipple in
tantalizing little circles that caused her breath to come faster and
faster from her mouth, her entire body trembling now with desire. Tony
was frozen, unable to stop her actions, his arm and hand flaccid clay
in his mother's dexterous fingers, his stomach a pit of fire at the
prurient sensations which had begun to course through him from her
manipulations, from the feel of his mother's naked flesh. His cock
jerked and trembled, coming erect in his trousers, and he thought, No,
no, this is wrong ... my God, no, I've got a hard-on, and it's the feel
of my own mother's tittles that's giving it to me ... I'm just as hot
as I was last night, watching her getting fucked by Uncle Ken ... yes,
yes, so excited and all because of my mother ...

"Tony darling," Bette whimpered, "kiss me! Kiss me right now!"

There was no other world left for the handsome teenage youth now except
that tiny area of existence inside the parked car; there was no lake,
no soft moonlight, no trees or beach or singing crickets. There was
nothing at all except this mind-blowing tableau of his mother rubbing
his hand--her son's hand--across her naked throbbing breast and begging
him to kiss her, kiss her not like a son but like a lover ...

Bette's sensually lidded eyes grew closer to his, closer, closer, then
she brought her mouth over his, her lips opening wide and moving on his
lips. Fiery passion seethed through Tony at the contact of his mother's
soft, wetly nibbling mouth on his own, and he began to tremble, her
breast under his hand as hot as a burning mound of fired clay. Then
Bette's hot wet tongue was flashing into his mouth, meeting with his,
gyrating madly with his tongue. Tony's cock was fully erect now,
palpitating with forbidden desire, and his balls ached at the contact
of his mother's body with his, her mouth with his. Her free hand went
down to his knee, causing him to jerk spasmodically with further
electrical jolts of pleasure; then she drew her hand higher, higher,
moving it along his thigh as her tongue and mouth worked wildly on his
own, as her body strained hard against his on the car seat ...

Bette was consumed with raging desire now, for she knew her plan was
succeeding and more so because of the intense pleasure of making love
to this youth she had borne from her womb, whom she loved so
desperately. Her hand stroked his leg, her other hand helped him caress
her quivering breast, and she moaned deep in her throat as she swirled
his saliva with hers in both their mouths, mother's and son's
commingling in hot wetness there.

This is wrong ... this is wrong ... this is wrong ... Tony's confused
young mind chanted, but still he could do nothing to stop what was
happening. It was as if he had been held spellbound by the enchantment
of his mother and her sweet, soft, soft, hot flesh. His love for her
was suddenly as strong as any man's for any woman's, as strong as his
for Debbie, and he realized in that moment of insight that he had loved
her deeply all along, never really stopped loving her even when she
left him. But he had never dreamed that it could be in any way sexual
... his love for her and hers for him ... for he knew now that she
loved him as much as he did her. And yet now, at this moment he could
not deny the driving emotions, the all-consuming fire which spiraled
hotly through his flesh--which had spiraled through his flesh too when
he had watched her receiving Uncle Ken's long hard cock deep inside her
welcoming cunt and had had the wish that he could take his uncle's
place ...

His arms tightened convulsively around his mother--he wanted her, he
actually wanted to fuck his own mother! She caressed his thigh with
harder and quicker strokes now then released his hand on her breast,
brought it over to caress his chest through the thin shirt he wore,
both her hands moving hotly, restlessly over her son's trembling body.
Tony tried in one last desperate attempt at rational behavior to remove
his hand from his mother's softly resilient breast, but he couldn't, he
couldn't move at all except to continue to caress her, hold her tightly
to him, tweak her hot hard nipples into further arousal, fuse his
tongue with hers in a mad, wet, hot kiss of desire.

Then his mother's eager searching hand moved all the way up his thigh,
found the aching bulge between his legs, began to move over it with
gentle yet demanding fondlings. The touch of her fingers on his
hardened prick, his swollen balls, brought a slow, nervous trembling to
Tony, agonized animalistic groans from deep in the core of his young
body, but he couldn't stop her; he couldn't stop her at all ...

Oh yes, yes, he's as big as I knew he would be! Bette thought wildly as
she stroked softly at her son's cloth protected genitals. It's so
wonderful, the feel of his cock as a man, the same little cock I washed
and touched so many times when he was a baby ... oooohh, Tony, I want
you, I love you, I have to have you, I have to kiss that wonderful cock
I used to see so often before ...

Now Bette's questing fingers located the zipper of her son's fly, began
to draw it down. She broke the kiss then, nuzzled his cheek, his neck
reveled in his gasping. Against his ear she whispered hotly, "Let me
take it out, Tony son. Let me take it out and hold it in my hand!"

"M-m-mom ..." he managed to wheeze in a last semblance of rationality,
of propriety. "You ... you can't ... can't do this! Oh God! It's wrong,
it's ... it's wrong ..."

"Tony darling, I love you, I want you!"

"Oooohhh ..."

"You love me too, don't you, sweetheart? You want to love me all the
way like I love you, don't you? Say you do, Tony, let me take it out
and hold it ..."

There was no more resistance left in the handsome teenager. Never had
his body been so hot, so consumed with desire. Yes, he wanted her! Yes,
yes, yes, he wanted his mother! He loved her, he loved her, he had
always loved her, and this was the ultimate expression of love, yes,
yes, "Yes Mom, yes, ohhh, I love you Mom, take it out, take it out
right now ...!"

Bette's fevered fingers drew the zipper all the way down then went to
his belt as Tony continued to massage her breast under the loose
blouse, showering hot kisses into her soft blonde hair and neck. His
lovely mother unfastened his belt, opened his pants, drew them away.
Then her long-nailed fingers slipped inside the waistband of his
shorts, pulled them down and away from his hard, moistly lubricated
young penis as Tony lifted his buttocks convulsively to help her.

Then his cock was free of its constricting garment, free and naked in
his mother's hot hand, and Bette gasped at the sheer immensity of it,
the hot rigidity of the shaft of flesh of her son which she held so
tightly in her hand. And never had anything felt so good to Tony as the
soft warm smoothness of his mother's hand wrapped so lovingly around
his naked erection! Wave after wave of prurient desire swept like a
floodtide through his body, and he moaned aloud in his ecstasy,
mindless with arousal, past all caring of anything but the delights
surging through his flesh.

Bette transferred his rock-hard prick to her other hand, using the
former to caress the underside of the shaft with her long nails, up and
down, up and down. Then they dipped lower, located his sperm swollen
young testicles and began to tease softly around them, causing the
hotly boiling sperm to build heavier and heavier in her son's aching
young scrotum.

Her passion-lidded eyes stared down at the huge, palpitating shaft she
held in her hand, and fiery desire raged out of control in her own
body. The quivering head glistened wetly in the darkness from its sheen
of excited lubrication, the unseeing eye staring at her like some
symbol of pleasure and orgasm and wonder. His penis seemed to sway in
her hand as if with a hidden power of its own, cobra-like, commanding
her to come nearer, to engulf it within the soft, sensitive folds of
her mouth. Panting raggedly with excitement, Bette opened her mouth,
licking her lips, allowing her tongue to stretch out between them. She
moved her head downward slowly, lower and lower so that it was only an
inch above the wavering head of her son's now fully hardened young
penis, the jutting pink little tongue almost touching the secreting
little split in the tip ...

Tony realized in that moment what his mother wanted to do, what she was
about to do, and he was seized with a momentary spasm of revulsion. No,
not that, God, not that! Debbie had sucked him off that way many times,
but that was different ... Debbie wasn't his mother ... that was his
mother, his mother about to suck his penis up between her soft wet lips
... But even as he thought that, the tremendous excitement of the act
struck the handsome youth full force, causing his prick to leap
anticipatorily in his mother's hand, and he knew he did want it to
happen no matter what, he wanted her to suck his cock! That was all
that made any sense, all that really counted, his mother's warm,
smooth-fleshed inner mouth sucking his cock, his mother that he loved
so much ...

Her son's penis was all, was the world, for Bette Clark now. She dipped
her head forward, her heart threatening to burst through her chest
cavity, her pussy raging with desire ... and then her tongue touched
the smooth rubbery tip of her son's cock-head, touched it and tasted
the bittersweet pungency of his seminal fluid. Yes! her mind cried
exultantly. Yes, this is what I've wanted to do all along ... ooohh, it
tastes so good! My wonderful son's cock tastes so good ...!

Bette began to swirl her tongue around the tiny thin opening, lapping
up all the virile tasting emissions there, and her son groaned wildly,
his fingers convulsing tightly in her blonde hair at the electric touch
of her moist hot tongue on his pulsating cock. She ovaled her mouth
wider to accept the entire head inside, moving her tongue in circular,
progressively faster strokes, holding the base between her thumb and
forefinger with one hand while she tickled his balls maddeningly with
the nails of the other.

"Oooohhh!" Tony wailed in abandoned delight, his fingers convulsively
twisting in his mother's swirling blonde hair. "Ohhh yes, Mom, darling
Mom, yesss!"

Bette began to suck rhythmically up and down now, as she had used to
suck Hale Bixby's cock in that special way he had showed her, taking
more and more of her son's hardened shaft of penile flesh into the
interior of her soft hot mouth, her tongue working with excruciating
swirls at the almost-withdrawal from the warmth of her lips. She parted
the tiny opening at the end with the tip of her fiery probe, widening
it so that more semen flowed out against her tongue. Her son jerked his
hips upward off the car seat paroxysmically, driving his rod deep and
hard against the roof of his mother's softly sucking mouth. He was
moaning in enraptured cadence now, squeezing Bette's breasts hotly and
almost painfully, his balls aching with the need for release.

His lovely blonde mother was sucking him voraciously now, completely
lost in the lewdness of the act which she was performing, reveling in
the salacious taste of her son's cock. Tony's buttocks twisted and
rolled on the seat as the intensity of her sucking increased. She began
to nibble with her sharp white teeth the rock-hard, bloated skin of his
blood-filled member, sipping at it eagerly, wanting him to cum, wanting
to taste his hotly flowing young semen as it filled her mouth to
overflowing. Her own loins were aching with increasing tension as her
orgasm built higher and higher, wanting to cum herself as she knew her
son would soon cum, wanted them both to cum together, mother and son,
lovers ...

She began to suck him faster and faster, more wildly, her hips churning
madly as she strained her head harder down on his lap, her eyes
squeezed tightly shut. Her head bobbed up and down with frenzied speed
like some impossibly functioning piston, taking all of his cock into
her hot wet mouth even though she would have at first deemed such a
feat impossible. The lovely mother's lips and nose were pressed against
the wiry bristles of her son's thick pubic hair on the downstroke of
her head, and she could sense the young masculine aroma of his genitals
wafting into her nostrils, spurring her on even faster.

Never, never had anything been this wonderful for Tony ... not even
Debbie's expert manipulations. This was the greatest, this was the
ultimate ... He had to cum, had to cum in his mother's soft wet mouth
... had to cum, had to cum ... had to--

And suddenly, without warning, he did cum!

He screamed, "Oooohh, that's it, Mom, I'm cumming, aaahhh!"

He jammed his hips upward, burying his cock deep in his mother's
desperately working throat while she moaned ecstatically. Then the
first hot thrusts of semen spurted from the opening in his hotly
flaring cock-head, inundating the back of his mother's voraciously
sucking mouth, geysering madly up out of his excitedly jerking penis.
Her throat tightened and untightened as torrent after torrent of his
burning fluid gushed forth, swallowing desperately to keep from choking
on the frothing hot liquid, her cheeks bloating and hollowing as the
warm semen-flooded cavern of her mouth filled and emptied, filled and
emptied ...

Bette's own orgasm struck then, brought about and triggered by the act
she was performing on her son, the total abandonment of loving him this
way. Wild rapturous kaleidoscopic release took hold of her, ten times
as great and wonderful as with Ken two nights ago or by her own finger
last night. She gurgled and squealed around her son's ejaculating cock,
still swallowing his seemingly never-ending flow of virile young sperm,
trying not to lose a single droplet of the precious seed. She reached a
height so dizzying, a pinnacle of pleasure so great that her mind
threatened to burst from the sheer physical pressure of it ...

Finally, moments later, her son's cock deflating in her gently nibbling
mouth, the lovely blonde mother lifted her head, letting the pleasure-
giving instrument slide wetly from between her lips, trailing a thin
band of cum between her mouth and his slowly receding cock-head. Tony
leaned back against the seat, half comatose from the excruciating bliss
he had just known from his mother's mouth on his prick, unable to
think, unable to do anything in the aftermath of such great delight.

Bette leaned over and kissed him with her still semen-glistening lips,
gently, tenderly, lovingly, on the mouth, hugging him fiercely, and
into his ear she whispered, "I love you, Tony darling, I wanted to make
you happy and to make you love me. Did I, darling, please tell me I
did!"

It was a long moment before Tony could answer; then he said--the words
filling him with a new sense of wonder at the world and at himself--
"Yes Mom, oh darling Mom, you made me happy, and you showed me that
I've never stopped loving you all along. Oh Mom, I love you too; I
really love you more than anything in the world!"

Those were the words that Bette had longed so desperately to hear, and
sheer ecstasy swept through her flesh, an ecstasy of a different sort
but no less intense than the orgasm she had just experienced. The first
part of her plan had succeeded perfectly, beautifully, magnificently,
and she was glowingly happy at that very moment. She snuggled against
her wonderful, satiated son, thinking about the second part of her
plan, that if it, too, succeeded, things would then be absolutely,
irreconcilably perfect.

She kissed her son again, smiling as she thought of what was certainly
happening at that very minute back at Ken's house, what she and Tony
would soon be walking in on if all went according to plan ...



Chapter 7


When Debbie Mason and Ken Clark reached his bedroom, the lovely black-
haired teenage siren immediately pulled her blouse over her head and
unfastened the buttons on her hot-pants, letting both garments fall at
her feet. She wasn't wearing any panties or bra, and she stood
completely naked, the black, sparsely growing curls of her pubic hair
glistening wetly with her arousal and her large, firm young breasts
quivering in proud anticipation as she stared at the sweating, lust-
incited older man. "Make yourself naked, sweet," she crooned. "Right
now ... hurry, I want to see your big hard cock!"

Ken moaned at the obscene suggestion of this young teenage girl, and
his hard, thick cock, fully erect in his trousers, ached with wild
passion. Staring at her voluptuous nakedness, he tore at his clothing
until he, too, was standing nude before her, his cock jutting out like
a gigantic spear from his hirsute loins, the moistly lubricated head
pointing impatiently at her trembling body. His brain whirled with
lust, totally abandoned to the captivating powerful femininity of this
black-haired little bitch. He wanted her desperately, just as he had
yesterday in the cabana, and he couldn't control himself; his body was
vibrating wildly, and his balls ached painfully with spiraling semen.

Debbie stepped up to him, breathing hotly into his face, took his hand
and guided it down between her parted thighs, shivering as his
automatically extended middle finger slid along the moist, heated
expanse of her waiting young cunt, slipping inside her vagina like a
lance of fire. Then her fingers curled over his cock, stroking it
lightly, tickling his balls with her little finger, her eyes staring
hotly, sensually into his. Still holding his throbbing shaft in her
hot, soft little hand, his finger still teasing over her clitoris and
the swollen lips of her young, tight cunt, she guided him to the bed
and fell with him upon it.

"Now, lover, this time I want you to fuck me in the asshole!" she
moaned. "I want to feel your big hard cock burrowing up into my rectum
... I want you to do it right now, hurry, hurry!"

Ken froze momentarily at the salacious invitation, and his passion-
drunk mind tried to reject the lewd idea. But it was too maddeningly
exciting, and he was no longer in control of his senses, ruled
completely by the blood-throbbing hardness of his cock and the sperm-
bloated sac of his testicles, his loins and his desire all powerful.
Breathing raggedly with inflamed heat, the handsome uncle of the young
teenage girl's boyfriend got up on his hands and knees on the bed,
drawing her quivering young loveliness up with him, turning her so that
the full splendor of her nakedly pulsating buttocks were presented to
his eyes. His cock jutted out like a huge monstrous implement of
tormented delight from his dark-haired loins, the lubricated head
almost touching the already rhythmically working little sphincter ring
of the teenage girl's tight little anus. He began, then, mesmerically,
to stroke Debbie's soft white buttock mounds, teasing her rectum with
the tip of his finger, reveling in the moans of pleasure which were
erupting from the young girl's throat. Slowly, tantalizingly, he
inserted the tip of his forefinger into her anal opening, the same
opening he had licked with his tongue the day before, wiggling the
probe around inside, drawing greater whimpers of increasing desire from
her. Then he put both hands on her whitely quivering buttock moons,
using his thumbs to draw the hot, sweat-slick fissure between them wide
apart, the glistening cheeks parting to reveal the rubbery opening of
her brown, puckered anal canal. He leaned forward, so that the hard,
fleshy knob of his blood-engorged penis almost touched the tiny, eager
hole, poising there, and Debbie emitted a low shriek of desire, reached
behind her, and grasped his cock in her tiny hand, guiding the head
impatiently against her asshole, wiggling the semen-coated tip hotly
around the small aching entrance.

"Fuck me, Ken honey, fuck me ... ooohhh, fuck me with your big hard
cock ... shove it in, shove it all the way up my ass!"

Ken was unable to restrain himself any longer. He moved his hips,
teasing the shaft along the wide held crevice of her ass, as Debbie
still grasped it. Then he leaned forward as she placed it directly into
the tiny, working hole, and with a powerful, sudden thrust, clutching
at her buttocks with clawed fingers, he bored his thick rigid cock far
up into her tiny resisting anal passage, forcing it through the tightly
clenched membraneous channel to bury it almost up to his testicles with
that single, lust-inspired thrust.

"Aaaaggghhhhh!" the black-haired girl screamed in wild, masochistic
delight, and her hand, still cupped behind her, grasped his softly
swinging balls, kneading them convulsively, almost painfully, urging
him to sink more of his prick into her painfully accepting anus.

Ken clutched hard at her hips, flexing again as he thrust still deeper
into her rectum, into the warm forbidden depths of her bowels. The
pressure pushed Debbie forward, pushed her head down on the rumpled
bedclothes, and he reached under her heaving torso to cup and squeeze
her large, firm young breasts, savagely tweaking her swollen nipples as
he heaved forward with long sawing strokes of his cock up into her
wide-stretched anus, the rubbery walls helplessly expanding before his
invading rod, while she toyed and fondled his sperm-engorged scrotum
excitedly in her hot little hand. Finally, with one vicious, ass-
smacking lunge, he buried every single inch of his huge, thick cock
into her warm, tight asshole.

"Oooooohhhhh!" Debbie mewled. "Ohhhhhhh, Ken sweet, it hurts, it hurts!
But I love it, I love it, don't stop, keep fucking me back there harder
... mmmmmm!"

Ken continued to drive his powerful thick cock up into the young
teenage girl's tightly clenching anus with hard, brutal strokes, his
hands squeezing her breasts as if they were molding clay between his
fingers, his loins smacking savagely against her upturned buttock
cheeks. His balls felt as though they were on fire where they rested in
her convulsively kneading fingers that pressed them tight against her
wetly secreting pussy below.

Debbie's head flailed from side to side, reveling in this lewd
sodomizing of her backside, and she buffeted back harder and harder
against her boyfriend's uncle's wildly pistoning cock, feeling his cum-
bloated testicles hot and sweating in her hand, the smack of his loins
against her buttocks echoing loudly through the room. The pleasure-pain
of his kneading fingers on her swaying, aching tits was almost
unbearable. Her lovely white buttocks were a blur of motion, gyrating,
twisting, slamming backward as she went wild with the thick, fleshy
pressure filling her asshole almost to the splitting point ...

* * *

Bette sat very close to her son, her hand on his thigh and her head on
his shoulder, as he drove the Pontiac away from the promontory and the
moon-lit lake. She had had no trouble convincing him that they should
leave right after her orgiastic oral lovemaking, telling him that she
wanted to go back home where they could sit together and talk. Tony had
quickly agreed, and there had been no mention made of Debbie, whom the
handsome youth was supposed to have met at eight o'clock--a fact which
filled his lovely blonde mother with a sense of happiness, a feeling
that everything was surely going to be wonderful and perfect for her
and her son from now on.

Tony drove mechanically, his mind still awhirl with the advent of the
new emotions his mother's sucking of his penis had brought forth inside
him, the new feelings he had never thought himself capable of but which
were now overpowering. I should feel guilty, disgusted, for allowing my
own mother to suck me off and cumming in her mouth like that. But I
don't feel guilty, I feel only a deep, warm love for her. Oh God, I
love her! I've loved her all along!

A few minutes later they reached Westridge and he was swinging the
Pontiac into the drive at his uncle's home. Once inside the garage, he
shut off the engine, headlights, then he and his mother got out of the
car, clinging to each other, and walked along the rear path to the
porch door like young lovers, like the lovers they now were. Tony keyed
open the door and they entered the dark, silent house. Bette's heart
beat faster in her breast, her ears straining for some sound, hoping
against hope that the expected scene would be taking place somewhere in
the house.

As she and her son crossed the darkened kitchen, opened the door into
the hallway leading to the living room and bedrooms, the stillness was
suddenly shattered by a girl's ecstatic, wailing cry. "Oooohhhh,
yessss, sweet, fuck it, fuck it harder ... aaaahhhh, that's the way to
do it, that's how I like my asshole fucked ..."

Mother and son froze, although Bette's heart leapt with excitement.
Perfect, perfect! It had worked out perfectly. Tony's mouth dropped
open. "My ... my God!" he whispered. "That ... that sounded like ...
like Debbie!"

"Yes, it did," Bette told him seriously, pretending to be grim. "I ...
I think it came from your uncle's bedroom, Tony."

The handsome teenage youth blinked, not believing the words he had just
heard cried out, not believing that it could have been Debbie, his
Debbie, who had cried them. What was happening in his uncle's bedroom,
for Christ's sake? What was going on?

"Come on, Tony," the lovely blonde mother urged, pulling her son along
the hallway. "Let's see what's happening in there."

Tony followed obediently, blindly, as they crept along the darkened
corridor. As they neared Ken's bedroom, he saw that the door was
standing partially open, as if left in haste, and light from a
nightstand lamp issued forth pale illumination.

Bette, too, saw the door standing open and she was filled with wild
excitement at the way her plan was working. She could hear the harsh,
animal-like sounds emanating from the bedroom as they neared the door,
the moans and grunts, the harsh wet slapping of naked flesh fucking
against naked flesh. And she knew that her son could hear them, too,
for his face was taking on a shocked look of disbelief.

They reached the door, stopped, and then took the final step forward,
together, which allowed them to see inside the room. What was
transpiring there, blatantly obvious on the bed not six feet away
across the room, caused a startled gasp to issue forth from Tony's
young throat. He stared incredulously at the scene. No, it's not
possible, he thought dazedly, sickly. Ken ... my Uncle Ken ... he's ...
oh my God, he's on the bed and naked with Debbie ... it's Debbie, my
girl, and she's ... ooohhh Jesus, she's letting him fuck her in the ass
with his cock, she's playing with his balls while he's fucking into her
asshole from behind ...

"My ... my God, Tony!" Bette whispered against his ear, in pretended
horror.

"Look ... look at what they're doing in there!"

Tony was looking, he couldn't help but stare at the tableau of
animalistic pursuit being enacted in the other room. His eyes bulged
wide as he peered through the partially open door, trying to fathom
deep in his soul the reason for what he was seeing, the actions of his
uncle, of the girl he had thought he loved, which had led to this
incredible sodomy. But he couldn't imagine them, he could only stare at
the two on the bed in shocked confusion, rooted to the spot as he had
been in watching his Mother and Uncle Ken two nights ago.

Bette pressed up tightly against him, her soft warm body against his
hard one, her eyes feasting on the same lewdly inciting sight as his
were, at her ex-husband's brother's long hard penis that was only two
nights ago slithering hard and fast up into her own pussy, fucking
mercilessly in and out of the young teenage girl's tightly constricting
anus. God, he was really giving it to the snooty little bitch! And she
deserved it, every painful inch of it, every painful second of Ken's
big hard cock driving deep up inside her bowels! Bette clutched at her
son's arm more tightly, her eyes liquid, unable to look away either
from the lustful sight. She rubbed her breast almost unconsciously
against Tony's arm, her naked hot breast that he had clasped in his
hand only a short while earlier.

Tony felt his mother's firm, full body rubbing against his own flesh,
but at first his mind was filled with thoughts of Debbie, thoughts
whirling crazily of what he and the voluptuous young girl had had
together, of the love he'd thought he felt for her. But this girl, this
carnally excited little bitch having her asshole fucked by a man old
enough to be her father, by his own uncle, this wasn't the same Debbie
he loved, was she? But ... but there could be no denying what he saw,
and Tony knew that he should hate the little slut for what she was
doing in there, for her betrayal of his love and trust, and yet,
curiously, he couldn't hate her at all. He was a different individual
than he had been two days ago, than he had been even that very morning-
-what he had experienced, done with his mother at the lake made that an
irrefutable fact--and this different person, this new Tony Clark, was
not capable of hating a girl who was doing almost the same thing he had
been doing with his mother those few short minutes ago ...

Tony's awareness of the hot, firm flesh of his mother came then, her
body pressed against his, her firm nakedness under the blouse she wore.
Her cunt, a wild irrational part of his brain cried suddenly, what does
my mother's cunt look like and feel like? Oh God, what would it be like
to put my cock inside my own mother's cunt, to send it slowly,
lovingly, pistoning in and out of her tight hot pussy ...

The lewd, obscene thoughts caused molten fire to surge through the
young man's loins, caused his prick, already once satiated by his
mother's soft warm mouth, to leap into arousal and bulge the front of
his pants. The sight of his uncle fucking his hard erect penis into
Debbie's tight brown anus added fuel to that fire, but it was by no
means, even standing there, the most important or enticing sight--no,
it was his mother's body, thoughts of his mother, which sent Tony's
cock thrusting upward in blood-boiling rigidity ...

His hands began to squeeze his mother's arm convulsively, then slid
around as if with a will of its own and located the soft pliancy of her
firm quivering breast. He stroked it lovingly, passionately, turning
his body slightly toward her without taking his eyes off the wildly
fucking couple in the other room, so that his burgeoning prick was
pressed against the firmness of his mother's thigh. His breath came
faster, faster, and his lips caressed the side of her face. "Mom ..."
he moaned almost inaudibly, oh my darling Mom ..."

The lovely blonde mother had been staring in at Debbie Mason being
sodomized by her ex-brother-in-law, and the lascivious tableau had
caused her pussy to flower with the juices of renewed passion. The heat
soared and swirled in her belly, causing her nipples to harden under
the blouse, and she could feel the trembling erectness of her clit
nestled between the wet pink folds of her hotly fired cuntal lips. She
had meant only to be indignant, outraged, horrified at what was
happening in the bedroom, the same emotions she expected from her son,
but when he had only stood staring with shocked immobility, she too had
done the same--and the absolute lewd carnality of the scene was now
having its effect on her. She had wished her son would rush into the
room, scream out at Debbie, call her vile names, hit her ... but he had
only stared, not moving ...

Only now he was moving, but not into the bedroom, no, he was moving
against her and his hand had slipped around to knead and fondle her
breast, he was breathing hotly against her face, whispering to her. He
... he was aroused! She could feel his hardness pressing against her
leg! Instead of being horrified by what he was witnessing Debbie and
his uncle doing, he was excited by it ... and he wanted her, he wanted
to fuck his mother!

The lovely Bette's heart hammered with indecision as she pressed hard
against her son, let him kiss her face and press his erect hard cock
against her leg. Passion churned within her, for she wanted him as much
as he wanted her, in spite of herself her own desires were fired by the
lewd act in Ken's bedroom--and yet, this was not the time, this was not
the place, if she succumbed to her lustful desires she would be no
better than Debbie ...

Then, suddenly in that moment, Bette realized with complete insight
that they weren't really different at all, that they were alike, she
and Debbie--female creatures of the flesh, seeking pleasure and
excitement, seeking orgasm and masculine lovemaking ... sensual women
who couldn't control their desires, who had to have release. Yes, yes,
it was only a matter of degree, not of kind ... where Debbie loved no
one but herself, she, Bette, loved deeply and completely her son, Tony
and ... and yes, yes, she loved Ken too, she realized that now, not as
deeply as she loved her son but it was love nevertheless, what they had
had together two nights ago was too good to be a product of anything
else ...

All these thoughts flashed disjointedly in the lovely blonde's mind,
and as they did so the passion she felt leapt higher and higher now,
becoming the ruling emotion within her. She turned her body hard into
her son's hot, restless one, her mouth joining with his and bringing
forth a low, almost inaudible cry of delight from deep in his throat.
Her hand slipped down to rub at his virilely swollen young cock inside
his trousers, and Tony's fingers were fevered on his mother's breast
and back as he filled her hotly receiving mouth with his tongue. Then
he was sliding her blouse up, mindless with desire, and cupping and
kneading her firm, resilient breasts as he had by the lake. Bette
stroked his burgeoning penis, holding it so that she could slide it up
and down her secreting pussy slit beneath her shorts, moaning around
his wildly working tongue in her mouth.

Her son worked his hands between them, unzipped her shorts at the side,
and puffed them down; her fevered fingers in turn opened his trousers,
drew them and his underpants all the way down so that his thick, hard
penis stood out in full, quivering erection from his loins. The lovely
blonde mother grasped his swollen cock and guided it through her naked,
wet, hair-fringed cuntal furrow, eliciting more moans of tremulous
desire from his throat, his eyes bulging at this, his first glimpse of
his mother's wonderful, hot cunt. Her eyes were open, too, staring past
her son's shoulder as she played with him and kissed him, watching Ken
still fucking long and hard and deep into Debbie's tightly clenched
anal passage, while the black-haired girl mewled with increasing
delight from his merciless assault.

Bette's free hand, and his own eager hands, finally succeeded in
completely stripping both of them, until they stood there in the
hallway in aroused and mesmeric excitement. She whispered hotly against
his ear, "Oh, Tony, I want you, I want you to love me! I want to feel
you inside me, soon, I want you to ... to ... fuck me!"

His mother's salacious wishes made Tony's cock leap in her grasping
moist palm, and his brain was a seething cauldron of abandoned desire.
He wanted to fuck her, fuck his own mother, right here, right this very
second! But ... but he couldn't let Debbie and his Uncle Ken see them,
he couldn't ...

Why not?

Why couldn't he let them see him and his mother fucking?

The thoughts sprang full-force through the heat haze in the teenage
youth's mind. Debbie and his uncle were in there, doing it, fucking,
and he and his mother were watching them; why shouldn't they be made to
watch him and his mother?

The idea of it was terribly, wickedly exciting to Tony. Yes, he and his
mom would do it in there, where Debbie and Uncle Ken could see them,
right there on the same bed! A small portion of his brain tried to
scream to him that this was wrong, wrong, but the tremendous excitement
of his prick-head being rubbed up and down his lovely mother's
trembling, naked cuntal slit, her hand caressing his cock and his
swollen, throbbing balls, was all too consumingly powerful to deny. He
had to have it this way ... this new Tony Clark, this abandoned sensual
youth who was in love with his own mother, had to have his way!

Without a moment's hesitation, Tony guided his sensuously trembling
mother through the doorway, into the bedroom. She came along willingly,
excitedly, as if the idea had been in her mind, too, to spread her legs
for her son where Ken, her last night's lover, and Debbie Mason, her
son's girlfriend, could see them--and so the very idea of it had been
in her mind! She knew what her son intended, welcomed it in the
driving, all-enveloping heat of her churning passion. Together, they
walked into the room, naked bodies touching, Bette's hot, soft hand
encompassing her son's turgid, diamond-hard cock, moving toward the
bed, stopping only a few feet from it, their passion-glazed features
set and their eyes staring at the handsome older man and voluptuous
teenage girl locked lewdly together in sodomy on the bed ...

Debbie was the first to see them. She had her head turned to the side,
her eyes open and staring as Ken rammed his thick hard cock brutally
forward, far up into her bowels, and her own hips froze, her eyes
widening with shock. Oh God! she thought in horror. Oh God, no, it
can't be Tony, it can't be! He's caught me, caught me being fucked in
the ass by his uncle ... but ... but, he's naked and ... and his mother
is with him, naked too ... they're both naked and Tony's cock is hard
... I don't believe it, Tony has been fucking his own mother! And ...
and he's going to fuck her again, right now, I can tell it by the look
in their eyes, they're going to fuck watching his uncle and me ...!

The realization was mind-numbing to the young black-haired girl, and
with it came a new flooding tide of exhibitionistic passion rippling
through her young body. Never had she experienced anything so exciting,
so completely mindblowing, as being fucked in the ass-hole by her
boyfriend's uncle, while her boyfriend and his mother watched and
fucked each other! Harder and harder, deeper and deeper, Ken's cock
pumped into her hotly clenching little anal passage, and once again
Debbie's lush, white buttocks churned back wildly, crazily, against the
invading hardness ...

Ken was slower to sense the presence in the bedroom of someone other
than him and Debbie. But then, as he heard the girl gasp and buck her
wide-split ass back against him with renewed frenzy, his eyes flickered
open and his head swiveled around. And he saw them. He saw Tony and
Bette standing beside the bed, standing there naked, Bette's hand
wrapped tightly around her son's swollen, blood-enraged cock, stroking
it, while his fingers played with her firmly, ripely mature breasts ...
Ken saw them and he couldn't believe his eyes! It was not a true scene,
it couldn't be, it was a nightmarish vision of his own private hell.
His mouth gaped open, and his entire body grew rigid, his cock poised
half pulled out of the eager teenage girl's tightly constricting
asshole, and he stared at the two people who meant most in his life,
whom he loved ... Bette, whom he loved and wanted to marry, Tony, whom
he had raised the past year ... standing there naked with his virile
young cock rock-hard before him ...

And then Ken Clark knew that he wasn't hallucinating, that it was real,
that Bette and Tony were really there, playing with one another, nude,
lovers, passion crazed for one another, son and mother, mother and son,
the lust being added to by the sight of him fucking the teenage little
bitch that Tony might marry on the bed right in front of them. Oh Jesus
Christ, no, no, nooooooo! This is ... is wrong ... they're watching me
and they're ... they're smiling, they're excited. Tony is going to fuck
his mother ... oooohhhhh, how long has this been going on, what caused
it, what's happening ... oohh, you bastard, and you bitch, how dare you
do such a thing, how dare you, how dare you ...

Then, in that very instant, the monumentally bitter irony of the
situation struck Ken with an almost physical impact. What right did he
have to judge them, oh God, what right indeed! Wasn't he here on the
bed, sodomizing the lusting anus of young teenage Debbie? How could he
be any better than they when he had succumbed to his physical desires
and coupled with this young slut yesterday and tonight? They were all
the same, all of them, he and Debbie and Tony and Bette ... beautiful
Bette ... all the same, hedonists, unable to control the fires of the
flesh, total slaves to their own overwhelming desires. They were what
they were ... not to be hated, condemned, pitied ... they were lovers
of the flesh, and as such entitled to their own pursuits, he realized
that now, you are what you are ...

Understanding and accepting all of this as irrefutable truth, the
handsome and emancipated uncle once again resumed his driving thrusts
into the sweating, tightly clenched anal crevice of Debbie Mason--and
as he did so, his lips formed a brief, passion-tinged smile, a smile
full of meaning and depth. The mute message was received by both Tony
and Bette, for they, too, knew what they were, and a bond was formed
between the three of them in that moment, a bond of total commitment
that what they were all doing now, or had done in the past, would do
today and tomorrow, was all right by each ...

Emitting a low moan of excitement, Tony drew his naked mother onto the
bed, their weight sagging the already creaking mattress as the teenage
Debbie rolled and ground her hips greedily back against his uncle's
forward-driving cock in her asshole. The handsome young youth and his
lovely blonde mother began kissing feverishly as she played lovingly
with his hardened cock, and then he knew that he couldn't wait any
longer for her soft, warm pussy to sheath up around his penis, to know
if he would satisfy her completely and totally with his fiery cum, to
make her his, all his, tonight and forever ...

Bette raised herself up and climbing on top of him, straddled her son's
body, holding his upward-thrusting cock between the fingers of her
right hand as she poised it up between her widespread thighs at the
thin bearded mouth to her tight, hot pussy. Tony's body was positioned
in such a way that his knees were pressed up against the headboard of
the bed now, his head and upper body pointing toward the door and
placed on one side of his young girlfriend Debbie's wildly undulating
form. Astride him, his beauteous mother faced across him and across the
black-haired teenager to Ken's sweating, straining features. Staring
hotly, lovingly, at her son's uncle, she inched herself downward
slowly, parting the soft petal-like folds of her cunt with the massive
head of her son's prick, filling the wet, hotly pulsating little
opening completely with it. She made soft mewling sounds of delight at
the feel of his monstrously throbbing young hardness inside her for the
first time, her son, the boy-man she loved, and Tony echoed the moans,
knowing his mother's cunt was the best he'd ever been inside, reveling
in the smooth fleshy warmth of its wetly clasping walls around his
entering penis, reveling in the fact that she was now his and nothing
else in the world mattered ...

Quickly, Bette sheathed the full length of her son's virilely trembling
young cock with her warm, damp vagina, seemingly filling her whole
belly with the hot hard expanse of the huge, flaring head of her
offspring. Her face was wildly contorted with lust, and as she rode up
to bring all but the lust-swollen tip of his cock out of her pussy, her
son slid his hands around under her arms and squeezed her large,
sensuously quivering breasts. He levered up with his buttocks at the
same time, sending his shaft soaring along the full length of the soft,
hungrily clasping channel of his mother's cunt to pound hard up against
her cervix. Bette cried out in pleasure-pain, "Oooooh God, Tony baby,
your cock ... your cock!" Then, using her knees as levers, she began to
hungrily grind her cunt up and down his blood-engorged rod with
increased abandon, climbing it almost to its uppermost point but never
allowing the hugely bloated head to escape the soft, hair-fringed lips
of her open pussy. She always levered back down rapaciously to impale
herself again and again on the thick, heaving cock which sent wildly
whirling pinwheels of delight racing through her stomach and loins and
breasts, her own virile young son's wonderful, beautiful cock ...
Directly in front of them, his own heat increased ten-fold by the sight
of his nephew, Tony, and his mother, Bette, fucking before his very
eyes, Ken jammed his superbly expanded cock crazily into the wildly
buffeting ass of the lovely teenager he was sodomizing, burying the
huge shaft deep and hard and hot in her tightly clenched little rectum
while he clawed mercilessly at her dancing breasts. Sweat rolled off
both their bodies, comingling into one passion-heated liquid, flowing
down between Debbie's straining young buttucks to mingle hotly with the
juices of her cuntal passion. Below that Ken's testicles, slamming hard
against her pussy lips on every heaving lunge, slapped into with a wet,
sharp noise each time. The tingling heat in his loins became almost too
much to bear as he fought desperately for his orgasm.

The wild fire in her cunt became too much for Debbie, and she moved her
left hand down under her, along heaving belly and across her saturated
pubic mound to the trembling bud of her clit. She flicked her middle
finger faster and faster over the tiny nub, feeling the spiraling heat
of her climax approaching at a rapid pace as new waves of rising
sensation from her own fingering rippled hotly through her. Faster and
faster her finger rubbed her clitoris, faster and faster her hips
churned against the moaning, panting Ken fucking deep and hard into her
anus, faster and deeper she could see Tony's mother riding the swollen
cock of her heavily panting young boyfriend. Suddenly, she wanted to
kiss Tony, she wanted her mouth on his as she came, as Ken came, as
they all came. "Tony!" she mewled. "Tony, kiss me!" And then she was
turning her head, finding Tony's mouth with hers, her tongue flashing
into his warm, hotly wet cavern, and they were both mewling crazily
around one another's tongues.

Bette heaved herself with insane fury up and down the powerful rod
filling her cunt, her hips undulating madly, frenetically, her right
hand dipped down between her son's legs to fondle and caress his
youthful sperm-filled balls as her hips slammed down hard against his
loins in ever-increasing tempo. Tony's fingers were hard and merciless
on his mother's passion-swollen breasts, squeezing them painfully,
thumb and forefinger tweaking the heavily throbbing nipples until she
cried out helplessly with the delight of his manipulations. Oh God, oh
God, Bette thought mesmerically, nothing has been like this in my life,
nothing ever has been this good and exciting, this is the most
wonderful moment I've ever known ... ohhhh, I want to cum, I want to
cum with my son's hot young cum pouring up into my pussy the same way
it poured into my mouth tonight. I want to cum fight now ... oooohhh,
look at Tony and Debbie, they're kissing, oh God that's exciting ...
kissing, yes, I want to kiss Ken too, ohhh yes, I want to kiss Ken
while we all cum together ...

She leaned forward, never missing a beat of her nakedly heaving body,
and moaned, "Kiss me, Ken, kiss me like Tony and Debbie are kissing! Oh
Ken, hurry and tongue-fuck my mouth before we cum!"

A strangled mewl of delight swept from Ken's throat, and his mouth met
Bette's with hot, wet abandon, their tongues swirling crazily like two
cocks brushing against each other, and for long frozen moments the four
of them on the swaying bed bucked and heaved against one another,
mouths and bodies locked, straining with every fibre of their beings
for orgasm. The only sounds were grunts and moans of delicious desire,
heavy exertion, the wet slapping of naked flesh against naked flesh. It
seemed as if the very world held its breath, waiting, waiting for the
tremendous crashing climax of this inexplicably exciting tableau.

And then, suddenly Ken stiffened, moaning into Bette's mouth, his hard,
erect cock pulled almost free of Debbie's straining, clasping asshole,
the thinly stretched skin pulled out almost grotesquely around the
thick head, and then he fucked his hips forward with a powerfully
brutal lunge. Debbie felt as if the huge shaft were rammed like a spit
all the way through her body and up into her throat as he began to jerk
convulsively behind her. A great, burning surge of hot, fiery semen
flooded deep into her rectum as he continued to moan and tongue fuck
into Bette's mouth in orgiastic ecstasy, the hot liquid filling the
lovely teenager's belly, flooding her helplessly quivering bowels until
she thought they would burst. And then Debbie's own climax struck, a
wild, intensely exciting release that exploded her juices
simultaneously with the thick hot white sperm of her boyfriend's uncle,
filling her with a raw sexual pleasure like she had never known before
...

The sight of Ken and Debbie climaxing triggered Tony's release, and he,
too, mewled out his rapture into the black-haired teenager's gasping
mouth. He heaved up to meet the pistoning down-strokes of his mother's
tightly locked cunt, as the first white-hot jets of his exploding semen
burst along the underside of his cock and filled his wonderful mother's
tight, clasping pussy to overflowing. So intense was this explosion of
his virile young cum into Bette that the boiling white liquid
inundating her cervix and cuntal walls sent the lovely blonde mother
over the brink of her own orgasm. "Oooooaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!" she shrieked
into Ken's mouth, sucking crazily on his tongue as if it, too, was an
ejaculating cock, and her lewdly grinding buttocks flashed up and down
over her son's magnificently expanded, jerking prick with insane
movements of unbelievable bliss. B e a u t i f u l ... her own private
Valhalla ... cumming by her own son's cock, cumming with his sperm
shooting hot and deep into her quivering belly, his cum flowing out
around his ejaculating prick and mixing with hers to make pools of
glistening liquid on his belly and pubic hair and rapidly emptying
testicles ...

Moments later, totally spent, totally satiated with their mind-blowing
mutual cumming, the four of them lay silently on the bed, touching one
another's nakedness as if in thankfulness for the pleasure each had
given. Bette lay lovingly in her son's arms, her hand resting lightly
on his now flexuous cock; her other arm stroked, tenderly, Ken's
equally flaccid member. And as her mind slowly returned to reality,
Bette knew that this was truly the finest night of her life. She had
everything she had ever wanted in the world now, and there would be no
more loneliness, no more pain and sadness for Bette Clark in the coming
years.



Chapter 8


Early one Saturday morning the following fall, just before Tony was due
to enter State College to pursue his Engineering vocation, Bette lay
drowsing in bed, reflecting back on the many things which had happened
since that orgiastic summer night in Ken's bedroom, She felt warm and
content, and her body ached pleasantly, for last night had been a mild
repeat of that first night, a veritable orgy of delight and sensuality-
-though, of course, not as powerful nor as meaningful as that initial
occasion.

Yes, many things had happened since then. First of all, she and Ken had
gotten married three weeks afterward, in a simple ceremony at the local
Justice of the Peace. Her presence in the Clark household no longer
caused raised eyebrows after that, and their neighbors had accepted
them as a model community family, happy, close-knit.

Tony was still going out with Debbie Mason--Bette had, after that first
night in Ken's bedroom, found that the girl had a lot of redeeming
qualities and had even grown somewhat fond of her, now that she had
gotten to know her better ... much, much better. Tony and Debbie made a
fine, handsome couple, and everyone thought that they might even get
married one day. Bette knew better, though, for as much as she had
grown to like Debbie, the lovely blonde mother could never have her as
a daughter-in-law, could never share her love for Tony with the kind of
girl that Debbie was at heart. Tony knew this and bowed to his mother's
wishes, since he knew now that he wasn't really in love with Debbie;
his relationship with the beauteous black-haired girl was strictly
casual ... and, of course, sexual, which was just the way Debbie wanted
it as well.

Ken had had a phenomenal run of success in the New York magazine
markets with his art, and the money was pouring into the Clark
household in great quantities, enabling them to live in sheer luxury.
They were even planning a trip, just the three of them, to the Far East
next spring, and Ken was contemplating the purchase of a small yacht
...

To all outward appearance, the Clark home was one of traditional, old-
fashioned, well-to-do "respectability" in the eyes of Westridge. If
they only knew, Bette thought, stretching languidly, what went on in
this bed, the prudish homebodies would really be shocked and appalled.
If there was anything Bette had grown to hate, it was narrow-minded
bigotry; an individual or a group of individuals had the right to
pursue happiness and pleasure in any way they chose, and the world
could go to hell if it didn't like it ...

There was a soft knock on the door, and then it opened and Tony came
in. He was smiling teasingly, his long dark hair touseled, wearing a
thin bathrobe. Bette, watching her handsome son with deep pride and
love, knew that he was naked beneath it. She smiled lovingly at him as
he crossed to the bed and sat beside her.

"Hi, honey," she greeted him.

"Hi, Mom," he replied. "How do you feel this morning?"

She winked at him. "Tired, but very, very good," she laughed.

He chuckled. "I thought you would."

"Where's your ... father, honey? Where's Ken?"

"He'll be in in a minute," the handsome teenage youth replied. "He's
having a cup of coffee."

"Mmmmmmmm," Bette yawned, stretching again, and the sheet covering her
beautiful body fell away, revealing the full, rich splendor of her
perfectly formed breasts. Tony feasted his eyes on his mother's lovely
tits, moistening his lips, then leaned forward and tenderly kissed
first one nipple, then the other, running his tongue over each until
they responded into hardened arousal.

"Mmmmmmmmmmm!" Bette said again, and her hand found his thigh, slid
upward along its firm, muscled expanse until she located his cock,
already hard with desire for her. She stroked it lovingly for a moment,
then whispered huskily, her eyes lidding, "Take off your robe and get
into bed, sweetheart."

"I thought you were tired," he teased.

"Not that tired, honey, not ever that tired!"

"Okay," Tony laughed, stood up, and let his robe fall to the floor.
Then, his hard young cock jutting proudly from his loins, he pulled the
sheet the rest of the way from his mother's lovely nakedness and lay
down beside her.

"Know what I'm going to do now?" He whispered into her ear. "Know what
I'm going to do until Ken comes in?"

"What?" she asked breathlessly.

"This!" And he slid down, down, along her beautiful body, his hands
squeezing her breasts lightly, his lips traveling over the smooth
flatness of her belly, down lower until he was breathing hotly into the
soft blonde triangle of her pubic mound ... lower still until his head
was positioned directly between her voluntarily parted thighs. His long
hard tongue slid out, licked over her clitoris, her suddenly swollen
cunt lips, and then, slowly, rapturously, with deep love, he began to
lick and suck hungrily at his mother's fiery hot pussy.

And as Bette wrapped her hands in his hair, reveling in the feel of her
son's mouth and tongue working wetly down between her legs, the lovely
blonde mother thought that, without a doubt, her world--the world she
had discovered here when she had buried her past and come to Westridge
once again to beg forgiveness--was the best of all possible worlds ...


The End

j2hoggc12
07-01-2009, 10:54 PM
Nice story