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  • CHAPTER ONE
  • CHAPTER TWO
  • CHAPTER THREE
  • CHAPTER FOUR
  • CHAPTER FIVE
  • CHAPTER SIX
  • CHAPTER SEVEN
  • CHAPTER EIGHT
  • CHAPTER NINE
  • CHAPTER TEN
  • CHAPTER ELEVEN
  • CHAPTER TWELVE
  • CHAPTER THIRTEEN

    Unknown

    Mom_s hot lips


    CHAPTER ONE

    Vera Hanson padded from the steamy bathroom after her shower and blotted silvery drops from her pert tits with a big green towel. She paused in front of the mirror over her dresser and tilted her head reflectively, letting her eyes roam up and down her taut-fleshed image.

    She saw the well-formed boobs, the protruding nipples, the slimness of her supple waist. She ran her eyes over the flare of her hips and the saucy pout of her round, tight-skinned, dew-spangled ass. Not bad, she thought, smiling at her image. For thirty-eight and one kid, it's damn good, Vera.

    She shook her head and brought fullness to her cropped blonde hair and saw another two years come off when she pulled her facial muscles just right and smoothed the hints of beginning wrinkles. It ran in the family. She could easily pass for her son's older sister, instead of Paul Hanson's young wife.

    The thought made little shivers go through her body. She glanced down and watched her pussylips puff up and swell apart slightly and reveal the pink tissues beneath the dark-blonde fuzz.

    Even her cunt was tight and young. It hadn't had much use during the past year. She sometimes felt as if she were a virgin again, a girl no older than her son, Roger.

    Vera felt a sexual throb deep in her belly. She reached between her thighs and cupped the shower-damp moistness at her crotch. An illicit thrill swept through her when the tip of her finger rolled the sensitive ball of her clit and made it sprout with alarming suddenness.

    She glanced into the mirror again and saw the tiny spike at the top of her gash peep out pinkly and beg for more. She saw the sheen of slippery juice that flooded to the front of her pussy and made her cuntlips become bloated and red.

    She closed her eyes and moaned deeply. She didn't want to do this. She wanted Paul to come home and, do it to her-to fuck her until she screamed with bliss, the way he used to flick her before this past year had sapped something from him and left him remote.

    She glanced at the clock and saw that it was eleven-thirty already. He should have been back from Loon Key for dinner.

    Worry nagged at her. Then a muddle of resentment and anger. It was that damn motel. The new one he was building that had taken him from her like a tight-skirted tramp.

    She would be glad when it was finished. There were ten others in the Hanson chain, from Palm Beach south along the Gold Coast to Miami. After he'd married her, she'd shared in the building of nine of them, helping him create the tiny little empire that was all theirs.

    But this one on Loon Key was different. He'd excluded her from it. He was building it just as he'd built the first one-without her. And he'd excluded her from himself as well, making her nearly a widow. A frustrated one. This past year had been degrading When she should have been serene and satisfied at thirty-eight, she was having to finger-fuck herself like a girl younger than her son when the need became too great

    The motel was nearly finished now. God, she'd be glad! There weren't going to be any more of them added to the chain, even if she had to strap him to the house, because she wouldn't go through another year like this one.

    She glanced at her lush body-in the mirror again. She wondered if she was too much for him, if his age was really catching up with him. Paul was going to be fifty-eight this summer, after all. But he'd always been robust, his plunging prick amply satisfying to her. Until this past year.

    He'd claimed it was the new motel, the worry over it. He denied there was another woman sapping him. Vera believed both statements. They'd made her resolve not to be tempted by other men. And there were plenty of offers. They thought she was fair game because of Paul's age and her deceptive youth.

    But Vera didn't want just to be fucked. She wanted her husband back. She wanted to lie back on her bed and fling her knees wide and have him fuck her until she gurgled mindlessly. She wanted him to do to her what she'd been having to do to herself, as degraded and ashamed as that had made her feel the first few times.

    She sighed and laid the towel across the foot of the bed. She looked at the bed and felt the hunger stir inside her cunt again. She wrapped her fingers around her pussy and squeezed tightly, not 'wanting to have to diddle herself again. She'd been finger-fucking too much. It was shameful that there wasn't even any shame in doing it any more.

    The tingling wouldn't go away. She fought the old battle inside herself again. She felt her nipples grow taut and sprout stiffly. Her finger circled over her spiked cunt, and, she felt the sharp throb of need deep inside her youthful snatch.

    She yanked her hand from her cunt with determination, her fingers sticky with pussy juice. Even as she did, she knew there was no chance he'd be up to fucking her tonight. Not after working this late. And she knew she'd twist and moan in bed beside him until she couldn't stand the agony any more. Then she'd sneak into the bathroom and sit on the stool and stretch her legs in front of her and diddle her twat. Maybe twice. It felt like a night for twice.

    "Oh, God," she moaned, turning towards her drawer. She removed a pair of red panties and stepped into them, letting the elastic waist make a reassuring snap against her flat tummy.

    But the jitteriness wouldn't go away. Neither would the nagging worry for her husband. Something was wrong, or he would have called. She could feel that something was wrong.

    She wished Roger were home. More and more, she'd been seeking comfort and companionship from her son. But he was out celebrating being an adult again, getting drunk, surrounding himself with willing girls. He was eighteen last month. Florida said he was an adult. But, with Roger, the older he got, the more childish he acted.

    Her closeness with Roger annoyed Paul, because the two of them just didn't get along. But what else was she to do? When her husband turned from her, where else was she to go?

    Vera went through the big house in her red panties, moving slowly and thoughtfully towards the kitchen. She paused by the glass doors to the pool lanai and pushed a switch. The underwater lights came on and made the blue water look flat and invitingly shallow. Beyond the screening, she saw the running lights of the Thompsons' forty-five-foot Chris Craft coming into their dock next door. The wake made their own Matthews rock gently against its lines, little creaks of sound mingling with the rain clatter of palm fronds in the warm night

    Where was Paul?

    Vera hurried towards the kitchen. and poured herself a glass of cold milk and drank it slowly, standing in front of the window. There was no worry that anyone outside would be peeping in at her naked fits. The house was on an acre of ground, the whole yard surrounded by a high stucco wall and thick tropical foliage.

    As she bent to put the glass in the dishwasher, she felt her tight, tipped boobs sway beneath her chest and tug gently at her skin. The tingling sensation rippled through her body again and made her suck in her breath. She cupped her tits and felt them explode with sensation.

    She was going to have, to do something. It was getting terrible. But she didn't want to be unfaithful to Paul. Maybe she could adjust to masturbating, but not to that. Not after what he'd done for her when she'd needed him the most

    A flash of memory blazed across her mind, and she recalled that ' night over eighteen years ago. Three of them had dragged her into a roam in the Hanson Motel and raped her again and again, until her mind spun and her constant wails of agony had brought Paul himself to investigate. He'd stopped the rape, but he hadn't been soon enough to stop the flood of sperm that had caused Roger. Maybe it was just as well. Maybe he wouldn't have married her four months later if she hadn't been pregnant.

    Vera didn't like that thought. It had plagued her for eighteen years, and she didn't like it. Paul wasn't that way. He'd married her from love, not some odd sense of guilt. She had to believe that. They'd had too good a marriage for it to be based on guilt and pity.

    She wondered suddenly what Roger was doing. Maybe he'd gone to Loon Key to meet Paul, impulsively wearing away in the hopped-up car he shouldn't have been allowed to buy. Maybe the two of them were together, father and son, having a drink and talking motel business.

    Vera sighed heavily. Not a chance. If Paul had gone south to the Keys, then Roger would have headed north. It was that way between them. The more attention she gave Roger, the worse it became. She was in the middle. She wished they could love each other as much as she loved them both, but it seemed impossible.

    There was a sound from the front of the house. Paul-finally! She hurried towards the door, heedless of her half-nudity, only glad he was home.

    She halted abruptly when her son came bursting into the house, drunk and grinning and foolish. He flung his arms wide and whooped.

    "Hot damn! There's a naked lady in my house-and she's just waiting to put me to bed!"

    Vera looked at his silly grin, the boyish shock of blond hair and the pretty smile, and she couldn't be angry. She covered her tits with her arm and sighed reproachfully.

    "Oh, Roger-you'd drunk as a lord again. Honestly, I wish that law had never been passed."

    "Not too drunk to see your titties, pretty lady," he grinned, calling her by his pet name, leering exaggeratedly.

    Vera smiled. She couldn't help it She loved him. And with Paul shutting her out of his life, she had come to love her son and more, because she had come to know him.

    Not the outward boy, unruly, irresponsible, wild, defiant, too handsome for his own good. She could see past all that to the man inside who was having a little trouble coming out but who one day would, and she loved him.

    She went towards him, letting her arm come away from her tits. He'd seen them before, and he probably would again. Their closeness had never been marred by false modesty.

    "oh, honey," she said tolerantly, "come on and get to bed before your father comes home and sees you like this. You'll only fight again."

    She took his arm. He looked down at her tits. Then he looked into her eyes, at the mention of Paul, and she saw something there she hadn't seen before.

    She saw that he was running hard, running scared, ducking in and out of the long shadow Paul had cast, as if there were a great taloned bird beating its wings above his head, croaking, "Bastard! Bastard!"

    "Let him see me," Roger grated hollowly, his voice more frightened than frightening. "I don't give a damn any more, Mom. I can get drunk if I want to now, and: not even big old Daddy can rescue anyone from the law." He slipped his arm around her naked shoulders, his fingers at the top of her tit. He leaned slackly against her and pushed his chest firmly against her other fit. "Hey, how come you married an old fart like him, Mom? I mean, I know the story and all, but look at your bod, Mom! Christ, I could go for you myself, you know that?" He grinned down and breathed alcoholic fumes at her.

    "All right, that's enough of that kind of talk," she smiled, feeling an unwanted flush of flattery. She tried to lead him from the door. He dragged his feet and pulled her this way and that drunkenly.

    "Don't wanna go to bed. Not unless you go with me. You go with me and tuck me in?" He grinned with boyish innocence. "Like old times, when he was away and you slept with me and let me play with your titties?"

    "Roger, stop. You were five, then, and you know it."

    "How about you go out with me, then. Right now. We'll have a few and then drive over to the point and neck in the back seat. I bet you need a good necking from a healthy young stud like me about now, huh?"

    "Careful, Roger," she said.

    "Maybe a good fucking, huh?" he giggled.

    "I was afraid you were going to say that. To bed, now, come on."

    She heaved again. He resisted. "Mmmm, you got nice tits, Mom," he said, brazenly cupping one in his palm. He squeezed gently. His touch was disconcertingly thrilling on her tingling, needing body. "Come on, let's you and me neck, baby," he grinned. "You give me a big stiff one."

    "Roger, that's enough. I'm not in the mood for playing childish games with you tonight"

    "How about adult games, Mom?"

    "Come on-off we go to beddy-bye," she said maternally.

    He dug in his heels and looked at her steadily. "Mom?"

    She looked back and sucked in her breath and felt it catch in her throat. Her heart pounded rapidly and suddenly, and her pussy squeezed juice between her lips into the crotch of her red panties. He was really doing it! He was propositioning hen Her own son was asking to fuck her!

    "Roger!" she whispered hoarsely, stunned beyond belief and unaccountably thrilled at the same time.

    "Aw, Mom, I… God, I want to take you and inn off with you and get you away ftom that old bastard! He rides my ass all the time, and he's trying to turn my pretty lady into a frustrated old bag, and I can't stand it any more, Mom!"

    Vera stood back from him in shock. "Roger Hanson, you get in your room right now and sleep this one off real fast, do you hear me!"

    "He's trying to squeeze us out, Mom! Both of us! Goddamn it, let's get him! You and me, Mom! It's always been us against him anyway, and you know it. Do you really think he doesn't look across the table at me and see 'bastard' burned across my forehead every morning? Do you really think there's any other reason why he married you? It might have been for flicking in the beginning, but he's quit that now, and I know it, too. What's left, Mom?" he cried.

    Vera slapped him. She swung her hand through the air and felt her tits wobble violently on her chest with the force of the blow.

    Roger sucked in his breath and held his hand to his face. A tear leaked from his eye. His shoulders slumped, as if with some kind of defeat. Vera spun and started for her bedroom, away from this young man liquor had made into somebody not her son. Roger jumped in front of her, knocking over a snail table. His eyes were a little too bright, a shade unreal.

    "Hey, you can't go to bed yet, damn it!" he cried. "I've got company out there-somebody I invited over to meet my big sister. Hey, don't screw it up, Mom-I told them you were my sister."

    "Roger, get out of my way. Roger?" She stepped back towards the middle of the room, away from him, away from the safety of her bedroom door with the lock on it There was something more than liquor in him.

    "I'm frying to prove a point, damn it! You're wasting your life with that old bastard, but you can't see it! Hey, gang!" he shouted towards the open doorway. "Come on and meet Sis!"

    He waved his arm towards the doorway and blocked her escape at the same time. A couple in their mid twenties came laughing and stumbling through the front door, both as drunk as he.


    CHAPTER TWO

    The girl was dainty and brunette. She had small tits and a wiggly ass anybody could fuck. She rushed towards Roger with a small squeal and leaped into his arms, cupping his prick with her hips and shaking her butt wildly. She glanced at Vera after kissing him thoroughly.

    "Hi Sis! Jeez, I thought you wasn't ever gonna agree to Luck! We been sittin' out there a long time!" She turned to Roger again, pushing her small, sharp tits into his chest. "Now, honey? God, I can't wait to wrap my wet pussy around that big stiff cock of yours!"

    Vera stared. Then a movement caught her eye, and she saw the man. He was coarse and big, with long, apish arms furred black. His lips were thick. his nose faintly squashed. Muscles sloped from skull to shoulders, leaving him with no neck. He clumped into the room in dirty Levi's and heavy swamp boots and gave her a grin that was supposed to be pleasant It came out wicked. It reminded her of three other grins eighteen years ago, and her pussy spawned with a throb of tenor.

    "Roger!" she cried wildly. "What have you done! Damn it, you've gone too far this time! Get them out of my house this instant!"

    She was absolutely stunned. Naked or not, she could only stand there flat-footed and ask herself over and over why he'd done this to her. What was his reason?

    "This here's a swinging couple I met tonight, She said. Sally and Dalton. Hey, Dalton-get a load of my big sister. Ever see sucking tits like those before? Man, I've sucked them so hard milk came out, sweet and warm. Catch her and try it, man. Grab hold of that tight ass and give it a squeeze. Then give her a taste of that salami of yours-she needs it bad!"

    Roger!

    "Oh, yeah she likes to pretend she's my mother, old buddy, but don't believe her. No guy ever had a mother as built for fucking as she is, did they? She just needs a little taste of cock, that's all!"

    Vera saw the ape come towards her. She gasped with disbelief. Then she gave a harsh sound and ran into the living room, snatching up the phone from the cradle and dialing the operator.

    Dalton grunted and came after her. He grinned with thick lips. He reached out with a hairy arm and grasped the wire and yanked it from the wall effortlessly.

    "My God!" Vera squeaked, staring.

    The room seemed to spin. There was nothing civilized in it any more, not even herself. She'd become a terrified little animal. She ran into the dining room and put the big pecan table between herself and Dalton. She opened her mouth to scream at her son, but no sound came out.

    "Go get her, Dalton!" Roger urged, watching him clump and lumber. "I promised to trade Sis for a fuck with Sally, but I didn't promise she'd hold still! Grab her and fuck her, Dalton! Ram her cunt full of that big prick and blast her pussy full! Make her feel young and hot again, you hairy, fucking ape!"

    Roger reeled backward under Sally's onslaught as the girl shrugged from the top of her dress and pushed her bare, sharp tits against his chest. Roger dipped his head and sucked her nipples into his mouth and made her squeak with heat.

    His hand went under her skirt and flipped it to her waist She lifted on her toes and then sank down slowly, wriggling her butt, sucking his finger all the way up her squirming, ready, slippery cunt. She fucked his finger openly, moaning, making wet sounds fill the room.

    Roger breathed hard and fast. His eyes were bright with strange desires. His hand made a ripping sound come from Sally's dress as he pushed it over her hips and round, tight ass. He slipped his finger from the depths of her fluttering cunt and followed the dress down, going onto his knees on the soft carpet.

    When she was naked, he wrapped his arms around her ass and lifted one thigh over his shoulder. He stared into the dripping, open wetness of her rosy cunt and darted forward, plastering his mouth to her slit

    He sucked and moaned. Wet sounds smacked through the room as he licked and nibbled and pushed his tongue into the silky flesh, fucking her box with it.

    "Ohhhhhh, do it! Do it!" Sally moaned, tipping her head back.

    She pushed her pussy against his face. She squatted and balanced on one leg, giving Roger full access to her twat She held the back of his head and moved her little butt in tight circles, rubbing her throbbing clit against his nose as he ate her snatch.

    "Dalton… honey…" she croaked. "He's eating my cunt! Gad, is he ever eating my cunt! He's wild! He got a snout like an armadillo, and he's fucking me with it! Dalton… oh, honey, I'm gonna… Aaaieeee! I'm coming, honey! What a cunt-suckerrr!"

    She throbbed and shook. She let her pussy open wide and flood Roger's tongue with her slippery juice. Her pelvis rattled and shuddered, and she nearly lost her balance when she grabbed for one fit to squeeze it rhythmically as she came.

    It was a wild, sudden orgasm, full of quick heat, explosive. She wanted them all to know how good it was. She described everything Roger did, the way his tongue felt inside her spasming cunt, the way her cut was being sucked between his lips, the way her fits tingled.

    She groaned and squealed constantly, sagging when she was finished. She moaned and kissed Roger's mouth, running her tongue over his lips, licking off the slippery pussy juice on them. She pushed him onto his back on the thick carpeting, and they blocked the hallway to the bedrooms.

    She unzipped his pants and reached into the opening and drew out his cock. It stood stiffly from his crotch in full view of his mother's staring, shocked eyes.

    The girl unbuckled his pants and worked them off his ass. She cupped his balls and cooed and rolled them in her dainty hands. She jacked his prick rapidly for a moment, and Roger moaned, lifting his hips from the floor.

    "Ohhhh, don't jack it, baby-suck it off! Fuck it! God, get up here and slide that boiling pussy down over my cock and make it blast into that tight little cunt of yours!"

    "That ain't the deal, honey," Sally moaned huskily. "You can't fuck we until Dalton's fucked your sister. But there ain't nothin' in the deal about suckin'!"

    She swirled her tongue over her lips to wet them, then opened her mouth. She aimed his prick upward, gave a cheeky glance at her husband and at Vera, both staring avidly, though for different reasons, and then pushed her pursed, full lips down over Roger's ccckhead.

    "Yaanh! God!" he cried, straining up tightly.

    Sally bobbed her head quickly. Her tongue and lips mauled his spongy, throbbing prickhead. Her tongue came from between her lips and slid tightly along the bottom of his shaft, reaching for his pubes. She made a trough of it and squeezed and brought it back up, making it ripple over the veins and crinkles of his prick.

    She did it again and again while her small hand rolled his balls. Her head bobbed up and down. She ate her way down his cockshaft, taking more and more of it into her mouth. Her sharp tits stabbed down from her chest, and her little butt shook with passion, making her crack open wide and tow the slippery wetness inside her pussylips.

    All the while, she jacked his prick down at the mat, her little fist bumping against her wet lips as she sucked him off. Roger twisted his hips and bucked on the floor and moaned over and over, seemingly heedless of the fact that Sally's husband and his own mother were watching him prepare to spurt his load into Sally's mouth.

    The girl was between Roger's legs. Her tiny tight butt thrust up in back of her, facing the dining roam. Her knees were spread, and her crack was wide open.

    They could see her tight little asshole pulsing in and out with terrible heat. They could see the parted lips of her dark-fringed pussy and the pinkness between them, wet and shining with her flowing juices.

    When she had sucked her mouth down over Roger's cock so far that she couldn't jack his root any more, she took her hand any and thrust it between her thighs, pumping it up and down her sodden gash.

    Her fingers curled under her crotch and tickled her asshole. They dabbled through the wet meat of her pussy mouth, slipping into the silken maw of her cunt and coming out wet and dripping. And her mouth sucked down and down over Roger's cock.

    Roger's head tipped. His neck corded. His hips strained upward as he fucked his cockhead into her throat. He growled mindlessly for a moment and then let out a sharp cry.

    'Yaaaagh! Take it! Swallow it! God, I'm coming!"

    His eyes opened, for just a moment. He turned his head and looked straight at his mother. Then he writhed and bucked as if being tortured to death, and his cock exploded.

    Sally squeezed his balls in her hand and shoved two fingers of her other hand up her cunt and sucked strongly. Her throat worked and gulped as Roger pumped jet after jet of cum into her throat.

    She couldn't take it all. It backed up and ran from her lips, drooling from her chin onto his balls as she rolled them. She moaned and cooed and shook her ass with a tiny orgasm of her own, but she sucked until the last spurt shot out of his balls.

    Vera stared with utter shock. She felt like fainting, as if that could make the whole unbelievable nightmare go away. She stared at her straining, orgasming son and the drooling evidence that he wasn't faking any of it.

    He'd flipped. He'd gone stark mad. There was no other explanation for what he was doing. When Paul walked in the door and saw it, he would absolutely murder Roger. And there wouldn't be anything Vera could say in his defense this time. She wasn't sure she would even want to by.

    A guttural sound made her jerk her head around. She stared at Dalton and saw that he was now edging around the table after her. He'd unzipped his pants, and a huge, bowing cock was bobbing from the gap, heavy and dark and dripping clear fluid from the horrible eye.

    "Dalton, don't…" Vera whispered, her voice ragged with fear. "Roger lied to you, Dalton. I'm not his sister. I'm his mother, and my husband's due home any moment now. You'll both be in big trouble, Dalton, unless you leave now."

    He stared at her naked tits and licked his thick lips. His face was flushed with heat. "I want my turn," he said huskily.

    He looked ready to clamber over the polished table in his swamp boots to get at her and fuck his monstrous prick into her. He grinned horribly. He gripped the edges of the table and feinted one way and then the other, cackling when Vera squeaked and dodged.

    There was no talking to him, no chance to reason. He was liking the chase too much. It thrilled him. He could easily get her, but he toyed with her instead.

    Vera knew there was no use pleading with Roger, either. He wanted her to be fucked by this horse-cocked animal. She couldn't guess why. She knew only that her one hope was to get to her bedroom and the telephone there or for Paul to come home. God, where was he?

    Dalton stood on the other side of the big table and leered at her crotch. He jacked his big prick to full stiffness, and the sight of it made her shudder. She imagined the way it would split her pussy wide and fill her whole belly. She'd wanted to be fucked-but not with that prick.

    An unwanted shiver went through her as she looked at it. It was more than fright or disgust. There was a primitive excitement rippling through her body, and she knew with sudden shame why, he was staring at her crotch. Her panties were soaked dark with pussy juice!

    "Ohhhh, hurry up and catch her, Dalton honey!" Sally moaned from the floor. "My pussy's just on fire for this boy's sweet cock!"

    The girl's back was against the hallway jamb. Her legs were stretched in front of her, knees wide apart. Her fingers slopped through her wet cunt flesh as she masturbated teasingly with one hand and jacked Roger's slippery prick with the other.

    "Roger, tell your sister to quit messing around! Tell her to let Dalton fuck her so's I can get this juicy cock into this juicy cunt!"

    "To hell with them, baby," Roger gasped. "Let's fuck anyway."

    "No, no-that wasn't the deal. We're supposed to trade fucks and…" She rolled her clit with her fingertip and jerked her hips up and nearly came. "Ohhhh, tell her to hurry!"

    Roger sucked in his breath and prepared to climb over her and fuck her drenched pussy anyway. He moved her from the jamb and laid her flat on the floor. He held his prick in his hand and aimed it toward her dark-fuzzed, sopping cunt. "Here it comes, baby," he said huskily.

    "No-no!" Sally moaned, twisting under him. "Dalton-he's trying to fuck me!" she cried.

    Dalton let out a warning growl, forceful and rumbling. It stopped Roger cold. He whipped his head around with a sickly smile, unwilling to rile the burly swamp hick.

    He saw the expression on his mother's face. He looked away. He was sorry. But it was the one way he could think of to get that old bastard to kick them both out and free them if he would only come home at the moment the ape's giant cock was making her scream with orgasm and beg for more. That would do it. He'd realize what an old fart he was and let her go.

    Roger let out a groan and turned back. It was out of his hands now anyway. He dropped his head between Sally's thighs again and began to lick at her watering cunt.

    It was a gusher, a well of slippery cunt juice. He held her tight little butt in his hands, and his tongue lapped up and down her steaming slit.

    Sally cried out and bumped all over the floor, kicking her legs into the air, tangling her fingers in his blond hair and mashing his face against her wet meat. He thrust his tongue into the slippery hole and fucked it rapidly back and forth. He wrapped his lips around the little prick of her cut and drew hard, making her come again.

    "Yaaaahhh, I want to fuck!" she screamed.

    Her pussy opened wide and spasmed shut around Roger's tongue. It pulsed and fluttered and leaked, and her explosion was violent. It left her gasping and whimpering with strange sounds.

    Dalton watched his wife come again and snorted with lust. A drop of fluid leaked from the tip of his big prick. He turned back to Vera and lunged at her without warning, catching her arm in a tight grip.

    Vera cried out with shock and fear. She felt her body whirled around and slammed up against his tightly. Her tits pushed into his barrel chest, and her hips slammed against his. Dalton's heavy cock thudded up between her thighs and was like a pole under her pussy.

    Vera shuddered wildly and knew she was helpless in his strong grasp. She looked into his face and shuddered with what she saw there.

    She was going to be fucked.


    CHAPTER THREE

    Something happened to her. She suddenly felt as if she were two persons. One of them struggled against the brute's massive strength. The other one had nipples sprouting against his thick chest and a pussy that was leaking a stream into her panties, even as her swollen cuntlips tried to wrap around the pole nudging at them.

    She couldn't believe the rush of perverted desire through her body. She recalled a wisecrack someone had made to her after the night she was taped in Paul's motel: If it's going to be rape, you might as well, enjoy it.

    She felt something like that. Feeling it was shameful and degrading. But it made her stop struggling with him. It made her shudder for a different reason when his big hands cupped the tight cheeks of her ass and pulled her pussy against his middle.

    From the corner of her eye, she saw her son suck in his breath and change his position over Sally. He spread her legs wide and aimed his stiff cock and didn't stop this time.

    Sally didn't try to stop him. She let out a whoop of glee and reached between her thighs and spread her cuntlips wide for Roger's cock.

    "Fuck her, Dalton!" Sally cried. "I'm fuckin' this here boy! Oh, God, am I gonna fuck him!"

    She lifted up with a yowl of readiness and rocked back on her spine. Her cuntlips sucked and quivered sloppily, and she nearly yanked Rogers' cock off his body in her rush to stuff it up her aunt. She let out a long, high growl as Roger's cock slid into her hole, sinking all the way into her oiled depths.

    "He's fuckin' me, honey!" she wailed, flinging her arms and legs around Roger's body, cupping him and enfolding him completely.

    Vera watched her son's naked butt pump up and down. She could see his cock running in and out of the girl's pussy. She imagined all the other girls he'd fucked, and she felt a trace of envy a bit of jealousy for all the fucking she'd missed this past year.

    Her knees wavered and buckled and locked again. She felt Dalton's big cock sliding through the slippery goo at the crotch of her panties, and she imagined how be was going to spread her on the floor in a moment and stuff the big prickhead between her wet, tender pussylips.

    Already, she could feel her cunt walls fluttering and squeezing around the incredible girth of it. And then she felt disgust-not for his plunging, spreading cock but for the way her shuddering body was anticipating it.

    God, what was the matter with her! Paul-Paul, help me again!

    Her panties rolled down over her round ass. His hands cupped her naked butt cheeks and rolled them. His prickshaft became fitted between her swollen, oiled pussylips, stroking under her crotch as if she were sliding along a greased pole.

    She felt herself swept off her feet. Brutish arms carried her to the couch and laid her out. An animal puffed and snorted over her body, sucking her tits into its warm, wet mouth, over half of them at once.

    Her pubes waved and tickled under the blasts from his nostrils, and his nails scratched at her thighs and butt as he pulled her panties down over her legs and off her feet.

    She tried to get up. A big paw pushed at the middle of her chest and held her down. Another paw stroked up the insides of her thighs and cupped her wet pussy, even as he was pushing his own pants don and letting that big cock out all the way.

    "No… no…" she whimpered, her mind denying the terrible need of her body.

    She thought of the first time she'd been raped. This wasn't the same. Need took away some of the edge of fear. Besides, her son was with her this time, right over there where she could see him, plunging and fucking into the little brunette's pussy, slamming against her tight, tiny body.

    And Paul was going to be coming home. Oh, God-he's going to see me fucking this big prick! He was going to see somebody else fucking her again. What would he think? What would he do?

    Roger growled and yelled suddenly, and she looked at him. His body strained and stiffened. His butt quivered, and his cock plunged to its limit into the girl's pussy.

    "Yaaaagh! I'm coming!" he shouted.

    "Pour it into me, you sweet fucker!" Sally yelled back, lifting her hips high, sucking his cock and his boiling flow of sperm deep into her spasming pussy.

    Vera whimpered and shivered, as if coming herself. It took her a moment to recognize the emotion inside her. And then she was horrified. She was writhing around just the way Sally was-as if her son's cock had just spurted into her pussy instead of Sally's. And she was accepting it!

    "Ohhhh, God!" she moaned, flinging her arm across her eyes. It was all a bad dream, that's what it was. She'd wake up in a second, and Paul would be asleep beside her, and she'd go sneaking into the bathroom to masturbate her overheated body.

    It didn't happen that way. Stars blazed across the backs of her eyes, and her body leapt into the air. Her pussy tissues shook and slapped together wetly as sensation coursed through her.

    Whiskers scratched her tender thighs, high on the insides, and then it happened again. Only more. Dalton's tongue slobbered between her tight asacheeks, digging into the deep cleft. It rippled over her asshole and made it pulsate wildly as it swept up through the slippery tissues beneath her cunt mouth and then pried between her lips. The tip of it sank partway into her cunt hole before rasping up her drenched gash to flip the turgid, blazing root of her cit.

    The stars came again and again as he lapped at her pussy and drank up her slippery flow. The heavy lips clamped against her silken flesh and sucked half her pussy between them, and she thought she would faint from the shamefully wonderful sensations he caused.

    "Honey, honey, honey…" Sally crooned, sounding far off to Vera, as if she were speaking through a tunnel. "Dalton, honey, he flicked me. Roger fucked me and came inside me. Baby, his cock bubbled and squirted all up inside my pussy, but he didn't put the fire out. Oh, honey, nobody can put that fire out but you and your big dick."

    Vera opened her eyes. She whimpered and bucked each time the searing tongue slurped up through her wet pussy tissues, and she watched the dark-haired girl crawling towards the couch on her hands and knees.

    Sally hobbled slightly, because one hand kept going to her puny and twirling the flesh then, pulling it all out of shape as she massaged her cunt in masturbation, wanting something more than Roger had been 'V. to give her.

    She held up her hand in protest, and sperm dripped from her fingers. "Dalton, honey, don't flick her yet. Put it in me, honey. God, I need that big cock of yours, Dalton. Ohhh, it was a crazy idea, wanting to trade. There's nobody can fuck like you, honey. Ohhhh, fuck your little wife's hot pussy, baby!"

    Dalton didn't look at his wife. He snorted and blew and slavered all aver Vera's tender twat. His cock was roaring hard, thudding against the couch and her leg with each beat of his heart.

    Roger came crawling up behind Sally and pawed at her butt like a dog ready to mount a bitch in heat. They reached the couch at the same time, and Roger paused in what he was doing with her to take a look at his mother.

    His face went slack, his eyes wide. His gaze swept up and down her supine, writhing form. He saw the way Dalton's big hand covered one of her firm fits and rolled it on her chest. He saw the way his mother's slim fingers were cupping the other one and squeezing it full of tingling sensation that made-her nipple stretch from the tips

    Roger blinked and shook his head as if some realization were trying to penetrate his mind. That was his mother lying there, pleading for help and moaning with desire at the same time.

    That nipple sprouting towards him was the same one he had suckled nourishment from and pawed with tiny fingers. He could remember doing It could remember the sweet warmth spraying into his mouth from it.

    He licked his lips and had a terrible desire to suck her nipple into his mouth again. Her torso twisted and flexed, and he shifted his gaze to her hips, the rounded line of her smooth butt cheeks.

    He saw Dalton's head bobbing between her thighs, and then he watched the big tongue lick up the wet, satiny groove of his mother's cunt. Roger stared and sucked in his breath. The dark blonde fuzz was matted and wet and hiding nothing.

    The puffy cuntlips were bloated and pink and spread wide by the tongue massaging them. The meat inside was slick and red. Roger watched it quiver with sensation. He watched Dalton's fingers pull the pussylips far aside to open her cunt hole, and Roger's cock throbbed with the strange passions running through him.

    He'd come from that hole. He'd kicked and twisted around inside it, as if fucking her with his whole body, and he felt a terrible need to fuck as much of himself into her pussy again as he could.

    Vera moaned with shame and bliss at the same time. Dalton was spreading her cunt mouth wider than it had ever been before, and he was plastering his thick lips over her wet ones to suck and draw and pump his tongue into her box.

    Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes popped open, because she knew she was going to come. She didn't want to come. It was as degrading as masturbating to come this way, with this ape. But she couldn't help it. Paid… she cried inwardly.

    She saw her son staring at her, watching her illicit thrills raced through her body when she saw his expression and his raging hard-on aimed towards Sally's pouting butt.

    He wanted to fuck her! He wanted to fuck his prick into the hole that had borne him!

    "Roger…" she gasped softly, the sound ending in a tiny whimper.

    He held his prick in his hand. He stared into his mother's eyes as he pushed forward and fucked the throbbing, hot shaft into Sally's juicy cunt. Be held the girl's hips in his hands and pumped back and forth into her box and gazed at his mother as if he were fucking her instead of the girl.

    Vera gasped and gasped. She felt charge after charge sweep through her being, electrifying her. She couldn't believe what she was feeling. It was as if her son's cock were going into her pussy instead of the girl's. Every moan Sally let out was coming from inside her. Every twitch and quiver of her pussy was being caused, by her son's cock, not Dalton's sucking mouth. They stared into each other's eyes as it happened, and she knew she'd never been so thrilled in her life.

    Sally seemed barely conscious of the fact that Roger had mounted her ass and was fucking her again. Her purpose was single-minded. She had her husband's monstrous cock in her hand and was pulling it towards her face, crooning and moaning with heat.

    "Don't fuck her, honey. I need you to fuck me. Oh, Dalton, I want this big prick in my cunt!"

    He continued to suck Vera's pussy. He twisted his hips slightly, and his huge cock speared towards his wife's face in unspoken command.

    Sally opened her mouth wide aid plunged her head down, even as she was wriggling her ass around Roger's prick. She took the huge prick between her lips and pumped her tongue up and down the underside of the shaft while she sucked it farther and farther into her mouth, then into her throat.

    Dalton gasped and barked into Vera's thighs, making her pussylips flutter wetly with the expulsion of air. He slurped and sucked faster and began to pump his hips.

    Sally moaned with uncertainty, as if doubting she would be able to take all his fire hose load. Yet her ass rotated and weaved around Roger's prick, and her pussy milked his cock.

    Roger pumped and pumped, his balls swinging up under Sally's crotch and splatting against the sodden tissues there. He continued gazing into his mother's eyes, and he knew that they were thinking and feeling the same things.

    Vera watched her son's pace quicken and grow ragged with the approach of his orgasm. She couldn't rid herself of the feeling that he was ready to come inside her. Her cunt stretched and throbbed, and a whimper of shameful lust erupted from her soft lips.

    Orgasm burst upon her. Her hips lifted, and her thighs spread wide. Her pussy mashed shamelessly against the sucking mouth, and the muscles and tissues inside sucked around the prick that wasn't there and yet somehow was.

    She saw her son's mouth open and his hips mash against Sally's butt cheeks. Their eyes remained locked, even as orgasm pumped through her starved body and expelled jets of thick cream from his prick at the same time.

    Sally's butt pinched and weaved and sucked and pushed. She took Roger's load into her cunt again and squealed in the back of her throat.

    It was a muffled sound, plugged by Dalton's heavy cock. He let out a roar like a bull alligator in rut and founted into her throat, spewing his big load there. Sally swallowed and gulped, but she couldn't keep up with the heavy flow.

    Sperm squirted from between her lips and sprayed Vera's thigh. It dribbled down Sally's chin and ran over Dalton's packed balls, but there was a grin of accomplishment on the girl's face anyway.

    "Ohhhh, honey, I did it," she moaned. "I sucked that big prick off! Baby, tell me it was good. Tell me I did it right at last! Honey, I really learned how on Roger-how to get it into my throat like that. Oh, Dalton, I can suck your cock now, and we won't ever have to trade off again, will we?"

    Dalton looked at her. His face was smeared with Vera's pussy juice. He wiped his hand through it and grabbed his wife by the back of the head and kissed her hungrily, their mouths smearing together under the lubrication of sperm and pussy juice.

    "Yeah," he grunted breathily. "But you got flicked by him. I want my turn with her, baby."

    "NQ, honey, don't. Take me home and give that wonderful prick to me! Fuck my cunt with it, not hers!"

    Dalton looked at his wife. He glanced at Vera's open, pink cunt. He patted Sally on the head and half pushed her away, moving to cover Vera's body. "No!" Vera cried, eyes bulging at the sight of his huge cock, still stiff, now drooling out the last of his load Sally hadn't been able to handle. It traced across Vera's thigh, leaving a warm string shining there.

    Roger watched the ape mount his mother, and his heart pounded in his chest. "All right, Dalton, that's enough. Everybody got flicked. The trade's over. Even your wife doesn't want you to fuck her."

    Dalton turned his head and growled menacingly. He held his cock in his hand and turned back to Vera when Roger wilted at the threat. He slipped the big head between her slippery cuntlips and ran it up and down her gash, smearing it with cum. "Oh, God…" Vera gasped. Her pussy jumped and spasmed. It betrayed her. It begged for the huge cock while her emotions rejected it. "Roger, stop him!" she whimpered. "Don't let him fuck me, honey! Stop him, and I'll let you fuck me instead!"


    CHAPTER FOUR

    Vera wasn't even aware, at first, of what she'd said. When the words penetrated her mind, she turned crimson with shame. She glanced at her son and saw that he was jacking his prick stiff again, watching breathlessly.

    She knew at the same time that her son was powerless to stop Dalton, that it was going to happen. She remembered the last rapes the pain her fighting had caused.

    She didn't fight the inevitable this time. She felt her pussy walls go slack and wet. She felt her omit mouth suck open at the touch of the big cockhead.

    Dalton huffed huskily and sank down on her body. His big cock entered her cunt and slid through the oiled silk of her pussy meat, going deep, spreading tissues wide.

    Vera's eyes shocked open, and she gasped raggedly. God, it Was huge! A pole inside her! Nothing at all like the prick Paul had been fucking into her cunt for eighteen yearn.

    Thrill after thrill rippled and plunged through her body. She gazed with pure astonishment at Roger, opened her mouth, and whimpered for forgiveness at the joy she was experiencing.

    She was totally stuffed. Her pussy walls spumed and shook around the big prick, as if experimenting and exploring, testing this big invader they weren't used to.

    "Don't fuck my mom!" Roger bawled suddenly, his face crinkling up with helplessness.

    His prick was ramrod stiff. He wanted in the worst way to yank Dalton's cock out of there and put his own in, but there was nothing he could do.

    Sally whipped her head around and gaped at him. "She's your mom?" Her little hand gripped Roger's prick and jacked it with excitement. "Ohhhh, she's really your mom?"

    "Sally, tell him to quit fucking her," Roger whined.

    He looked at Dalton's ass. The hairy butt pumped up and down and clenched and spread. The big prick squished in and out of his mother's juicy pussy and made the lips flatten and suck and grow large again as they clung to the withdrawing prick.

    Then he looked at his mother's twisting, writhing body, the expression of astonished lust on her face, and he knew that she wouldn't want him to stop Dalton just now.

    She'd been awakened. What Roger had told her he wanted to happen was happening. But all he'd really wanted was for them to get caught. Where in hell was the old bastard, anyway? Always tied up with his goddamn motels instead of being with his family.

    Roger's pleading whimpers took on a different sound. He watched Sally's hand slide up and down his prick. He looked at the flare of her tight little ass, and he knew how he was going to get even with Dalton for fucking his pretty lady.

    He whipped Sally around. He made her rest her chin on the couch. He held her butt in his hands and watched her wriggle it for him, as full of excitement as he was.

    She thought he was going to fuck her pussy again. She was wrong. Roger looked at the slope of her back and the way she spread her knees on the floor, bracing them apart, opening her round cheeks and her pussylips for him.

    He glanced at his mother. She was watching him. She wasn't really seeing him. Her eyes were slightly glazed, and a constant moan came from her lips as her body was tossed and rammed by Dalton's big fucking prick.

    Roger held his cock in his hand and aimed it. He spread Sally's buttcheeks apart and put the tip of his prick to her asshole. Just as she was ready to vocalize her objection, he pushed forward, and the words merged together into a shrill squeal.

    "God he's fucking my ass, Dalton! Ahhhhgh, it hurts, it hurts!"

    Her asshole was tight, so tight he knew she was a virgin there. At least Dalton hadn't reamed his huge cock into her butt yet, or it would be stretched loose and flabby. Roger grinned tightly and fucked his prick fully into her bung, pressing his thighs up against her round, tight buttcheeks.

    "Ahhhhgh, he's flicking it and fucking it, Dalton! Ohhhhh.

    She didn't really mind Roger could tell that by the way her asshole clamped around his prick and barely let him slide back and forth in her butt.

    Her muscles vibrated and pulsed and began little sucking motions that drew his cock deeper into her clinging, dark hole. Her tits spiked at the ends and jutted down from her chest, and she began weaving her ass and pushing back at him for more.

    Vera heard the girl's sharp cry. She came put of her sensual fog enough to look at her son and see what he was doing. She watched his white cock stab between the tight cheeks of Sally's ass, and her emotions spun.

    Dalton grunted and looked around. He watched Roger cornhole his wife. Then he looked down at Vera and grinned with thick lips.

    Vera's heart caught in her throat. She felt his heavy, thick cock pulse and thud inside her pussy, and she knew exactly what was on his mind.

    "Roger-you damn little fool!" she gasped a choked whisper.

    Dalton grunted again and made his arms straight, preparing to lift off her body and pull his prick from her cunt and flip her over. Vera's asshole pulsed wildly with the way she imagined it would be.

    He would tear her asshole open with that big prick of his. She'd never been fucked in her ass. It was too tight. This night would become another night of horror and pain if he rammed that pole up her butt, and she had to stop him.

    She flung her arms around the thick back and clung to him. "No, no-don't take your prick out of my pussy, Dalton! I'm coming! I'm going to come! Ohhhhh, shove that big prick into me and make me come! Blast my pussy full, Dalton! Let me know what a young cock feels like again! It's been so long, so long!"

    Dalton was surprised and pleased. He rammed forward, banging her cervix with his cockhead and nearly making her leap from her skin with the shock of it.

    She flung her knees wide and wrapped her thighs around his, locking her ankles over his tossing, churning butt, pulling him into her. She bit her lower lip to stop from crying out with pain when he drilled to the end of her cunt again.

    It was all right. She could take it. Anything was better than having him fuck her asshole. She pumped and heaved. She made her pussy suck and spasm wildly around his prick.

    She felt wanton as hell. She'd never felt this way before. She sucked in her breath and did it again and again, conscious of trying every trick to make him come in her cunt-just as if she were the most brazen whore there was. And right in front of her son.

    She looked at Roger. She licked her lips and felt her eyes go wide with surprise and something more-shame and lust mixed. There really were no secrets between them now.

    "Yaaaaaagh!" Dalton bellowed suddenly.

    Vera snapped her attention back to him. His cock swelled inside her cunt and filled it to bursting. She felt the wild throbbing and bucking. Then she felt the hot, hosing rush of sperm into her snatch, and something inside her responded.

    "Oh, God!" she cried sharply.

    She clung to him. She didn't want to. It was unthinkable that she'd hang from a crude, burly bastard who was really in the process of raping her.

    But there was no denying the excitement he was giving her. His big cock was perversely thrilling. The way Paul had left her in such need for the past year had made it thrilling.

    Her eyes popped open. She gasped and gasped. And then it hit her with terrible, shattering force.

    "Ahhhhhhgh!" she screamed.

    Her body shuddered violently. Her muscles crushed and spasmed. Her pussy sucked and shook around the monstrous prick inside it, and there was no way it could hold the gushing charge of his sperm and her cunt juices, too.

    Sperm flowed from the lips of her pussy where his thick root had spread and flattened them. It trickled down the bottom of her crotch and puddled in her upturned whole and brought fierce sensation to her. For just a wild, fleeting moment, she wondered what it would be like to be fucked there, and then she was horrified with herself for even thinking about it.

    Sally cried out sharply. Vera looked at the girl and got a good idea what it would be like.

    Roger strained forward and shoved his prick all the way into the girl's butt. She opened her knees wide, bracing them on the floor. Her spine bowed, and her butt slanted up and back to take all the cock Roger was giving her.

    She opened her little mouth and bleated with a surprisingly loud sound. She beat her little fists on the couch and shook her whole body as she came and came.

    "Ahhhh! Eeeee! My ass! Right up my asshole! Dalton, it's wonderful! Honey, I didn't know! I'll do it with you from now on! God, I want your big cock up my asshole, baby! Ahhhhh!"

    Vera saw Roger toss his head back and grimace with blissful agony. His face went beet red. His pelvis was thrust as far forward as he could make it go. It shook and shook as he spurted his load up the girl's ass.

    When he was finished, he moaned and gasped and looked ready to black out. He caught himself and then looked directly into Vera's eyes, and it was just as if he'd come in her ass instead of Sally's.

    Dalton lifted his shaggy head finally, having recovered from the tremendous orgasm Vera had so wantonly drawn from him. His wife was pawing at his hairy butt, nuzzling it with bet cheek, cooing and moaning. Dalton twisted his head around and watched her a moment, then grinned back at Vera.

    "Now I'm gonna fuck your ass," he said to her.

    Sally kissed his butt and sank her teeth gently into the flesh of it. "No, honey, no," she objected. "DO it in mine. I want you to, Dalton. All these other times when I wouldn't let you, it was because I was afraid of your big cock. But I can take it now, honey-I know I can. Oh, baby, let's go home now and do it I'm tired of trading fucks, Dalton. I just want you."

    She pried his hairy buttcheeks apart and slipped her pink tongue between them, rimming his asshole with it. He gasped, and his prick began bowing up and stiffening again. Vera wanted to scream at the girl not to excite him any more after she'd just been so wanton about cooling him don.

    She didn't have to. Something next to miraculous happened just then. The doorbell rang.

    "It's Paul!" she cried tightly, stiff-arming Dalton from her chest. "It's my husband!"

    A whole mixture of emotions ran through her. She didn't understand why Paul would be ringing the bell. He had a key. Even if he'd lost it, she didn't remember anybody's locking the door. Why was he ringing? Had he come in, seen them, and then gone out again, now giving her the chance to get decent so that they could both pretend nothing had been happening?

    She felt frantic. She worked her way from under Dalton's body. She urged the others to dross quickly. She slipped into her panties and ran towards the bedroom for her robe.

    When she came back, Roger was standing in the doorway. Dalton and Sally were gone. Roger was talking to a tall, solidly-built man. Or, rather, the man, was talking while Roger listened. There was a stunned expression on Roger's face, and fear clutched at Vera's heart.

    She went up to them, conscious of the press of the man's uniform shirt, the glint of badge, the creak and shine of black leather about his waist that held a holstered gun. She saw the black and white squad car in the circular drive.

    "Mrs. Hanson?" the man said, looking at her. "There's been an accident, Mrs. Hanson. May I come in?"


    CHAPTER FIVE

    Vera stood in the doorway. She watched the trooper get into the squad car and drive away. She hugged her shoulders with her hands, feeling chilled in the warm night-totally numb.

    Paul was dead. She could say the words in her mind, but she couldn't comprehend them. His car had ma off the Overseas Highway linking the Florida Keys together. It had plunged into Indian Key Channel and become wedged between two submerged pilings. They had spent hours cutting him out of the car.

    "God," she whispered softly. She pictured the bridge in her mind, small, high-humped, spanning the channel. She pictured Paul's car under the oily, night-dark surface of the water. She pictured him in it, stuck behind the wheel, his hair waving in the strong tide flowing through the channel between the Atlantic and the Gulf.

    "Oh, my God!" she half screamed into the dark, warm, balmy night.

    Roger's hands were on her shoulders. He pulled her back into the house and closed the door. He turned her around and looked at her. Then he hugged her tightly, seeming possessed of infinite comfort and sudden maturity.

    "It'll be all right, Mom," he said quietly. "You'll see, it'll be all right with just the two of us. It's the way it should be."

    She pulled back and looked at him with disbelief. His expression was a total shock, to her. There seemed half a smile on his face, a look of satisfaction.

    "You don't care," she whispered, squinting at him, through him. "You're glad he's dead. Damn you, Roger-Goddamn you!"

    She swung wildly at him, letting the hysteria come over her. He caught her wrist and held it tightly, almost painfully.

    "Don't hate me Mom." he said quietly. "I can't help what I feel. He's off my back; now. I don't ever have to listen to him rid me and ride me again. I don't have to hear how Thorne Bundt is the shining example of the son he wanted, instead of the wayward, irresponsible, bratty kid he's got." "Roger!" she cried.

    "You know it's true! You know he was playing me off against Bundt for running the motel chain after he retired. I'm eighteen, Mom. Thorne Bundt is thirty-six, nearly your age. How could I be expected to measure up to him? Like everything else the old bastard did, it just wasn't fair of him!"

    "Damn you, Roger-shut up!" Vera screamed. "God, he's dead! He's dead!" Tern burst from her eyes as realization finally hit her, and her knees seemed to give way.

    Roger clasped her body to his and held her tightly again, and his voice was soothing in her ear. "I'll take care of us, Mom. I'll run the damn motels. I'll show him and Bundt both I can do it. You'll see, you'll see."

    Vera clung to him. He was all she had left. She needed him more than ever now. Not as a baby to cuddle and protect. Not as a slightly wild son to defend against Paul's wrath and take sides with all the time. She needed him to cuddle and protect her, now.

    Roger bent and lifted her from the floor. He carried her in his arms towards her bedroom. She sobbed openly against his chest and didn't care. After tonight There were no secrets anyway, nothing to hide, no reason not to cry.

    He laid her on her bed; The top of the robe slipped from her tit, exposing it. He bent and put his lips tenderly to the tip of it, then lifted his head to her face.

    She looked at him through tear-blurred eyes. She stopped crying. She sucked in her breath and felt her heart pound. It was different now-all different. Awareness of that fact struck them both at the same time, and she was aghast with what she felt.

    "Roger…" she whispered, wanting him to leave her now, before the insane night became monstrous with madness,

    "I need you, Mom," he said softly. "You need me. Nothing's really different. It's always been the two of us in spirit. Now it can be that way for real. That's the only difference, Mom."

    "Roger, no…" she gasped, watching his hand lift, watching it come to her cheek and smooth away a tear there.

    His hand left her cheek and traveled down her throat. It paused at the lapel of her robe. He pushed it gently aside, exposing her other tit. He gazed at her breasts lovingly, and then his head dipped slowly. His lips were warm against her nipple. He suckled it in a way she remembered from long, long ago.

    "Oh, my God…" she whispered softly, staring at the ceiling, not stopping him.

    "Mom, I didn't want him dead," Roger said, his voice muffled by the softness of her jug. She felt a quick, hot wetness against her chest. "I didn't want him dead, Mom!" Roger sobbed. "I just wanted him off my back!"

    Emotion swept her, and she clasped his head to her naked tits and rocked back and forth, crooning comfortingly while he cried.

    She felt very strange. She felt three people at once-the widow in grief, the comforting mother, the woman so young she could have been Paul's daughter, needing comfort herself.

    She held her son a long time. Then she didn't stop him when he gained control of himself and slipped her robe and panties from her body and undressed himself and slipped into the bed beside her.

    He put his arms around her and turned her boobs into his chest. His hands cupped her butt, and she felt his prick against her cunt mound. He tucked her head into the hollow of his shoulder, and she nuzzled it there and crawled against him and let the feeling of security wrap her in its blanket.

    There was nothing wrong with it. They were alone now. They needed each other. How could needing each other be wrong?

    "Oh, Roger," she said finally, whispering against his neck.

    "My pretty lady," he said, kissing her lips gently. They pulled back and looked at each other. Then they came together with a fierceness Vera couldn't explain and didn't even want to try.

    "Roger, no…" she gasped, her emotions swimming. She clung to him tightly, turning her protest to a lie.

    "Yes, Mom," he said, running his hand up and dawn her back, feeling the dips and hollows, exploring the curves and swells of her hips and firm buttcheeks.

    "Roger, why did you bring those terrible people into our house tonight? Why did you want him to flick me?"

    "I wanted Dad to come home and catch us. I wanted him to throw us out so that we could both be free of him. I wanted you to be young again, Mom."

    "You're a bastard, Roger."

    "I know, Mom. He told me that every morning-with his eyes."

    "Oh, darling, I'm sorry! I didn't mean that!"

    She cupped his head in her hands and kissed his mouth fiercely. It had been a gesture of apology. It turned smeary and hot, with tongues twining and twirling together.

    He puffed through his nostrils against her cheek. He rolled her onto her back and covered her, his chest flattening her sharp, firm boobs.

    "Darling-no!" she cried softly.

    He didn't respond. His hand found her tit and massaged it softly. His knees worked her thighs apart, until there was no resistance left in them.

    His prick stiffened against the bottom of her crotch, and she felt the fullness, the warmth, the throbbing of its youth and vigor against her pussy flesh.

    He didn't have Paul's weight. His bones didn't creak silently the way Paul's had. Mounting her did not leave him breathless. His prick was smooth and soft and strong, not wrinkled and half-limp with age.

    The feel of him against her was thrilling. He was not a big ape like Dalton nor an old man like Paul. He was just right. He was what she needed. He was youth.

    "Ohhhhh, my God…" she cried softly.

    His prickhead throbbed at the mouth of her pussy. She felt her twat throb and pulse shamelessly. She felt the warm, slippery flow of her cunt's fluids.

    His prickhead entered her pussylips. They sucked and fluttered shamelessly around the spongy velvet of his cocktip. He came forward slowly and surely, and his prick entered her body-fucking back into the bole from which he had come.

    "Roger, Roger!" she cried, flinging her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly to her.

    There seemed something very complete about it-a kind of roundness, as if his coming out and now going back into her pussy had completed a cosmic circle of great significance.

    She opened her thighs wide and took her son back into her body and let him fuck her. She lifted her hips from the bed. His hands scooped under her buttcheeks and felt them, squeezing and massaging shameful heat into them.

    "God! Oh, God!" she cried.

    "Mom! It's wonderful! Your cunt is wonderful! So soft and slick and warm! So wet and hot and ready for my prick! Ohhhh, Mom!"

    He pushed into her box all the way, his prick reaching to her depths, as if seeking the old path back into her womb. His ass was tight in her hands when she held his middle against hers and pumped up against him.

    He stayed deep for a long, satisfying moment, and then he began moving in her slowly, flicking his prick in and out of her pussy. She heard the sounds her cunt made, the suckings and slurpings youthful, eager sounds.

    She felt the way her cunt muscles jittered and spasmed with tiny motions about his cock. She felt the way her nipples bloated and spiked into his chest. Her firm asscheeks seemed perfectly rounded in his cupping palms.

    She moaned deeply and wrapped her thighs about his hips and locked her ankles over his ass. She pulled and pushed and rocked with him, knowing at the same time that she could finally swing her ass all the way, any way, and give vent to all the acrobatic movements she had a whim- to. And there would be no danger of harming his spine when she did it, because his was young and flexible, not half-brittled with age.

    Her hips twisted and rolled under his plunging prick. Her pussy sucked and drew on the rigid shaft inside her hole. Her mouth opened and closed, as if wanting to express the incredible sensation she was feeling but unable to, and the action made her feel wanton again.

    "Ohhhhhh, fuck me, Roger! Fuck me!" she cried finally.

    "Mom-I am! God, I am fucking you!" he gasped.

    Having Dalton's big prick ream her, pussy had done something to her. There was no question of it. It had loosened her up. It had let her know what she'd really been missing.

    She'd thought Paul had kept her satisfied. But she now realized that she had fallen into a rut with him. A sterile sequence of motions that had always been subdued with regard for his stiffening joints.

    Paul…

    Paul began to fade from her mind-the meaning of Paul. Her husband yes. With good years behind them, except for the last one, yes. But there had been a constant, nettling feeling that he WSS somehow a little too fatherly toward her, as if she had been nearly his daughter instead of his wife and lover.

    It hadn't been a MI man-woman relationship. He'd kept things from her. Nothing of great importance, but it was the act that had bothered her. Like the motel on Loon Key.

    During the past year, the relationship had been nothing. It was nearly as if his death now was but a permanent extension of the past year. As if he'd somehow been preparing her for his total absence.

    Roger had changed her around tonight. First, with Dalton, and now with his own youthful body. She looked the other way, now-toward youth instead of age, and it felt good.

    "Ohhhhh, Mom-your pussy! What are you making it do to my prick?" Roger gasped.

    She hadn't even been aware of it. Now she was. Her pussy muscles were sucking and working and pulling inward. She could feel them grip the hard shaft of his cock and suck it into her hole and spasm around it. They held the iron-hard bar deep inside and made his withdrawing slides thrilling beyond reason.

    "Roger, Roger… she gasped under him. "My beautiful ba-" She sucked in her breath and felt a wave of dizziness sweep through her momentarily. "No, no-you'll not my baby any more, darling! You're my man!"

    She clung to him and shuddered and cried out sharply. Her pussy went wild. It sucked and pulsed and exploded Mound his prick.

    "Ahhhhhh, Roger, I'm coming!" she cried.

    "Mom! God, Mom-your cunt!"

    He gasped and shook. His prick swelled and thudded inside her working, slippery pussy. It bucked and spurted violently, sending his sperm deep towards his mother's womb, flooding her channel, making her pussy a slippery, drenched., silken sea of orgasming tissues.

    There! It's done! He came in me! My son came in me, and I came all around him, and it's done!

    Vera's head spun with the realization of what they'd done. She expected to feel immense shame and baseness, but the feeling wouldn't quite come. It hadn't been foul. It had been beautiful. It had been one of the best fucks she'd ever had. He wasn't her boy any more. She had raised him and suckled him and watched him grow up, and now she could see that he was a man.

    "Oh, Roger darling-hold me! Hold me!" she cried.

    "I will, Mom!"

    "We can do it, Roger. We can get along. Just as long as we have each other, God, I'd feel so lost without you, Roger."

    "Me, too, Mom," he whispered, kissing her lightly, then hungrily, mashing his lips against hers.

    Vera whimpered under his weight. She felt his prick throb to full stiffness again inside her pussy, and she couldn't keep from catching fire.

    Once had been the limit with Paul. But this man atop her now wasn't Paul. He was the extension of her own youthful desires and needs.

    She made her pelvis dip and swirl and her sodden, sperm-filled snatch suck around his prick. She lifted up and opened her body and allowed her son to enter her cunt as deeply as he wanted, until they both came again. She lifted up and opened her body and allowed her son to enter her cunt as deeply as he wanted, until they both came again. She lifted up and opened her body and allowed her son to enter her cunt as deeply as he wanted, until they both came again.


    CHAPTER SIX

    The warm bright sun heated her and made her squint. It came down into the car from a blue-white, cloudless sky. It bounced off the limestone whiteness of the narrow strips of land that made teaches on either side of the highway. It glittered off the blue Atlantic on the left and the green Gulf on the tight, and it made her dark-green sunglasses seem useless. Vera turned her head and glanced at her son a moment as he drove them over the chain of islands toward Loon Key. He'd wanted to come look at the new Hanson Motel.

    She frowned a moment, frying to remember how many days ago it had been. It seemed a strangely short time. Each one had been surrounded by a fog of unreality, and it was difficult to put them into proper sequence. She would cry. Then Roger would come and soothe her, and they would flick and hold each other until he began to cry They we-sawed back and forth together that way, and they would fuck and fuck as if one of them wouldn't be there tomorrow, leaving the other all alone.

    It was as if the constant flicking were a relief valve for the emotions inside them, something to stabilize the turmoiling days.

    She remembered reading the Highway Patrol report, but few of the details. The driver behind Paul had seen him sit high behind the wheel suddenly and grab high, at his neck or his chest. His head had twisted to the side, and the Olds had weaved badly, finally veering off the road and bumping across the flat, rubble-littered Key. It had plunged off the edge of land and leaped into the dusk-dark Atlantic, nosing quickly out of sight amid an angry boil of foam.

    She remembered the bloated image of a balding man on a slab who had looked somewhat familiar, but it was like a plastic imitation of her husband there, a cruel joke.

    She remembered a mouth moving up and down, talking about things foreign to her-no autopsy, a prior coronary history, no water in the lungs to indicate he'd been alive while sinking. There was Jack Cutter, Paul's old friend and attorney, telling her what to sign what to do.

    She looked up suddenly, her lips thin. Prior coronary history. She hadn't known about it. He hadn't told her a damn thing about having heart trouble-as if she'd been his daughter instead of his wife.

    Even Thorne had known about it, and that made Paul's secretiveness hurt all the more. Thorne was a terrific guy, bright and energetic and well-suited to handle both the accounting and the general management of the chain.

    But Thorne hadn't been his wife. And a wife should have known about a thing like that.

    She thought about Thorne. He'd been over yesterday, tactful and quiet and properly distant in a physical sense. Yet he'd looked at her again in tat special way he had, and he hadn't been able to hide the element of hope in his eyes.

    She liked Thorne. She felt comfortable with him. A little too comfortable. He had made one offer to her-subtle yet unmistakable. She had nearly succumbed. Of all the men who had made a pass at her, Thorne would have been the one, if she had decided to betray Paul.

    She glanced from the corner of her eye at her son again, and a strange emotion went through her. Thorne should have been the one to comfort her and fuck her, but it had been her son instead. Yet-but for Roger-there was nothing to prevent her from looking straight into Thorne's eyes and letting him know he could take it from there.

    Roger hated him. Maniacally. He had reason to. Paul had been wrong in holding Thorne up to Roger as an idol, putting them in constant competition. There wasn't any contest. Thorne had experience and age, and it simply hadn't been fair of him.

    The moment it appeared Thorne might put a comforting arm around her yesterday, Roger had stood physically between them, bristling with threats, actually pushing Thorne towards the door. Vera understood why. Thorne had stolen Paul's affection and pride from Roger. Roger wasn't going to let him steal his mother, too, not without a fight.

    Vera sighed heavily, weary of a lifetime of contest because of Roger. First with Paul, and soon with Thorne. She could feel it coming down deep in her bones.

    "There it is," Roger said abruptly. He slowed and pulled to the side of the road. Vera looked across the highway towards the ocean. They'd just crossed a bridge. There was the faint trace of tire tracks skidding across the limestone rubble towards the edge of the small island. Water licked the zip-rap with gentle innocence. She suddenly imagined the powder-blue Olds leaping into space, and she let out a small sound and turned her head.

    "Don't stop here, Roger." He looked at her. There was a strange expression on his face, a look of power. "Honey, let's go back. I don't want to see the motel. I don't want any part of it."

    "You have a part of it, Mom. Of all of them. Remember what Jack Cutter said about the stocks? Sixty percent, he left us. We own the whole mess, Mom, and we're going to run the hell out of it, you wait and see."

    She looked ahead quickly and bit her lower lip to keep back a cry of outrage. Equally! Paul had left them shares equally!

    She couldn't comprehend it. Jack Cutter couldn't understand it, either. He should have left it to her, not to her and Roger equally. The only thing she could figure was that he hadn't hated Roger after all. That, or he had genuinely regarded her as his daughter instead of his wife.

    She tried to calm the bitter feeling inside her. She remembered the other odd thing Cutter had told them. Paul had signed his stock over four days before he'd died. Cutter didn't know why. But it meant that their ownership of it wasn't fouled up in the estate settlement.

    She went over the discussion in Cutter's dim office again and remembered another point. There was a man-Max Sawyer. He was contesting their ownership of the stock. It was something about a prior agreement. Something to do with this damn Loon Key motel.

    She shook her head harshly, unable to untangle all the fine points, tired of the way too many things ran through her mind in a confused jumble.

    "Roger, turn around, I want to go home. I don't want to run the motels. I don't know anything about it, and neither do you. We should let Thorne run everything."

    "Fuck Bundt!" he shouted, his face blazing redly. "I'd rather sell out to this guy Sawyer than appoint Bundt chief crapper cleaner! Dad didn't think I could take over, and Bundt still thinks it, Well, by God, I'm going to show them! You, too, Mom, if I have to!"

    "Don't speak to me in that tone of voice, you little brat!"

    Roger grinned at her, his face showing that he was high on an inner drug. "Hey, Mom, you're sounding like a mother again. Better watch that, or I'll pull off in the weeds and give you a little flicking again." He laughed. "How about it, Mom? Should we? I'm getting a hard-on just thinking about your slick pussy and all the little wiggles you make your ass do when you come."

    Vera sucked in her breath and looked at him a long moment, watching him drive. She wasn't sure what to think. He was different today. He made their closeness something dirty. He was going to have to stop doing that. Was it the motel again? Would it do the same thing to Roger it had done to Paul?

    "It's a bad place, Roger. I don't want to go there. Turn around."

    "A building can't be bad, for Christ's sake."

    "It changed him. He didn't like it. He died coming back from it. It mined our marriage, and it made him do-strange things with his share of the stock. Now it's changing you."

    "The only thing changing me is having him off my back, Mom. As for the stock-I don't know. The only thing I figured he'd ever give me was a pain in the ass. Maybe he knew something about his heart and wanted to sign it over before he croaked. Maybe he gave me half just to keep you in line."

    "What do you mean by that?" she asked sharply.

    Roger shrugged. "Maybe he thought whiz-kid Bundt would try to move in on you and take over everything. He knew I hate Bundt and won't do a damn thing the bastard recommends. Maybe he saw through Bundt at the last and saw what a climbing back-stabber he is."

    "Roger, that's enough!"

    "Maybe Max Sawyer had something to do with it, huh? Hey, there you go. He signed it over to get it out of his name because he was pulling a sneaky on Sawyer, and then he was going to tell us how to vote the 60 percent next week. Control without vulnerability. Hell, it happens all the time."

    "Your father did not pull anything sneaky on anybody ever," Vera said distinctly, her tone reprimanding.

    "He wasn't my father, Mom-remember?" Roger grinned.

    He braked the car and swerved off the highway onto a new blacktop driveway that passed under an ornate portico. On the curving glass front of the new building was a stylized trio of birds in flight against a backdrop of cloud-drifted moon and graceful palm tree, with a blue water ripple for the horizon.

    Small gold letters, all lower case, said Loon Key Motel. The Hanson shield was missing. She didn't understand that at all.

    "Not bad," Roger said, giving a whistle. He eased the car towards the parking area on the south. There was a bait-and-tackle place just beyond it, an old frame marina with small boats at dock. A cut led into the Atlantic for the boats. There was a car parked in the new lot of the motel, close to the edge, near the marina.

    "Somebody's here, Roger. I don't feel right about this."

    He turned in the seat and looked at her. "Mom, we own the goddamn place now." He dangled keys in front of her. "See? That's probably some guy at the marina who didn't want to get his car dusty in their gavel lot, that's all. Come on." He got out and opened her door and half yanked her out He gazed at the new structure. "Damn, it's a lot fancier than the other ones. Hey, come on, partner," he grinned, pulling her towards the entrance.

    There was a theme of pools and coral rock and lush vegetation and metal-sculptured loons. It was carried into the lobby from outside. Roger sauntered through the rooms with a wide grin and smelled the odors of newness everywhere.

    "Man, the old fart outdid himself on this one, didn't he? It's really different."

    It was. It didn't look like one of Paul's motel at all. There was a chromous glint about it that made the plushness gaudy instead of rich. They stood in the dining room and looked through an expanse of glass at the Atlantic and fishing boats bobbing whitely on the blue.

    There was a terrace and lanai section surrounding a large swimming pool. A wing of the building wrapped around it, and the beach was beyond. The pool was full of water, blue and peaceful under the sun.

    "Damn, that's what I want! Come on, Mom!"

    He grabbed her hand and thrust open a sliding door and hauled her to the edge of the pool. He kicked his shoes off and stripped to his shorts. She couldn't help looking at the compact bulge of his prick.

    "Come on, Mom-let's swim. Hell, the owners have to be the first."

    She started to protest. With a juvenile cackle, he put his hand in the middle of her back and pushed. She sprawled into the water with a founting splash, sank to the bottom, came up sputtering, her hair plastered to her head.

    "Roger, you little brat!" she cried.

    She saw him laughing like a carefree child. He spun off the edge of the pool and splashed water and surfaced with a yowl of animal joy. He started coming after her.

    Something sparked inside Vera. The Worries and tensions of the past days lifted from her and left her feeling light and free, as if she were a teenage girl again, being chased.

    She turned in the water and squeaked and swam away from him, and the chase was an. She was a good swimmer, fast and sleek, but the clothing hampered her badly. She felt his hand clasp around her ankle. He pulled her backwards, and her head went under. She came up sputtering right in front of him.

    "That wasn't fair!" she cried, laughing, the first time in days. "My legs got all tangled in my dress, or you'd never have caught me!"

    He looked at her. She stopped laughing and felt her pulse hammer. The thin dress was plastered wetly to her body, and her sharp tits punched towards him. She could see the gleam of his white shorts under the silvery surface.

    "Then take it off, Mom," he said huskily.

    "Oh, Roger…" she started, glancing around. She felt exposed. But there was nothing but the new building around her and the sky overhead and the empty beach to the east.

    He reached for her, his arms going around her, his fingers finding the zipper at her back. "It's not like we're strangers any more, Mom," he said.

    She stood there in waist-high water and let him peel her dress from. her tits. He looked down at them. They gleamed in the sunlight, fresh and alive with silvery droplets, young and firm and healthy.

    He cupped them in his hands. She felt his prick stiffen and move against her thighs, and then she realized his shorts were off. He pushed her dress down, hooking his thumbs into her panties.

    "Roger, don't…" she whispered. But she lifted her legs in the water and clung to his neck and watched him roll the sopping garments from her feet.

    She half floated on her back. His hands were against her neck and her butt, supporting her. Her fits mounded just out of the water, and little waves tugged at them sensitively and made her nipples shoot towards the sun.

    He lifted her butt, and water flowed from her hips and over her pussy between her thighs. He dipped his head and took her wet pubes and the flesh of her pussylips into his mouth and flicked at her twat with his tongue.

    "Oh, God…" she moaned softly, feeling her cunt open and expand and grow wet inside.

    Her whole body was on horizontal display for him. Her legs seemed to float apart and open as if pulled that way by the water. He waded towards the edge of the pool, and she hooked her elbows in the gutter rim, her head out of the water and her body floating straight out.

    Roger looked at her, up and down, his face slack. "God, you're beautiful, Mom," he said softly.

    He went between her outstretched legs. His hands cupped her round asscheeks, lifting slightly, so that her pussy was just out of the water. She looked down her body and saw the way her cuntlips had bloated and spread apart. She could see her cunt at the top of the cleft. It was stiff and pink and throbbing. The water had made her pubes transparent so that they hid nothing of her cunt.

    Roger put her thighs over his shoulders and squatted in the water. His head was just in the vee of her crotch. He gazed at her open cunt, and she knew he could see the pink tissues suck and quiver with the terrible excitement in her body.

    "Roger, don't… somebody might be watching..

    "There's nobody here, Mom. And I wouldn't stop now for anything."

    He dipped forward. His tongue brushed over her gash. He made it flat and then lapped up the center of her trembling split. He flicked her cut with the tip of it, then opened his mouth wide and covered her whole cunt with his soft, warm, sucking lips.

    "Ohhhhhh, my God!" Vera cried, tossing her head back, squeezing her eyes shut against the sun. She saw orange through her eyelids. A whole world of hot orange.

    Electric jolts shot through her with each massaging press, each flick, each pointed stab of his tongue. It was the first time he'd sucked her cunt. It was the first time anyone had sucked her cunt in eons, because Paul hadn't liked to muff-dive.

    She'd forgotten how good it was. She'd been barely conscious of Dalton's eating her out because of the wild turmoil of that night, but there was no turmoil now.

    There was the floating sensation the water gave her. There was the bright sun and the blue sky and the limitless ocean. And there was the feeling of love and closeness with her son as he licked and sucked at her trembling, flowing pussy.

    She wanted him to stop. She felt very strange, being in the open. She wanted to get to a bed at least, somewhere cozier. She wanted to wrap her arms around his body and hold him tightly while the-good sensations tingled through her pussy.

    She put her hand to his head to push him away. She nearly sank in the water, and she clutched his head to her snatch instead, letting out a long moan when his tongue stabbed deep into her quaking cunt.

    "Ohhhhh, Roger-it's wonderful! You're going to make me come, darling! Oh, don't make me come like this! Take me to one of the rooms and let me lie on a bed!"

    He didn't stop. He cupped her butt in his hands and ate at her pussy. When she tried to pump her hips up against his face and fuck back, there was no resistance to the water.

    There was nothing she could do but float and accept the sensations he gave her and let them build in her body.

    God, it was good. She shuddered and moaned and felt the waves suck and pull at her tits, like gentle hands caressing them. She realized again what a rut she had fallen into with Paul. They only fucked. They never did anything else. It wouldn't be that way with her son, because he could fuck her in any position and suck her pussy and do all the inventive things youngsters did.

    Her hips twisted in his hands. She felt her orgasm coming. She couldn't possibly hold it back, not as long as he kept up the wonderful tonguing of her pussy.

    His tongue was like a mobile prick. It could fuck into her box quickly, pushing the soaked, silken tissues aside, sinking deep. It could flick at her cut and make the mini-cock vibrate with unbelievable sensation.

    It could flatten against the muscular, satiny mouth of her pussy and massage like a small hand, around and around, up and down. And all the while, his fingers massaged her ass and played in her deep crack and made her asshole tingle.

    Her emotions began to swim. They floated inside her just the way her quivering body floated in the water. She opened her mouth and heard the sharp sighs she sent towards the sky.

    "Roger! I'm going to come! Honey.. Oh! Ohhhh!"

    Wave after wave pulsed through her, sending her higher and higher. She tried to switch her ass and shake out the orgasm, but the water gave no resistance.

    "Yaaaagh! I'm coming!" she cried harshly.

    It flowed from her. Her whole body shook in the water, undulating and sending waves from the sides of her hips. Roger glued his mouth to her pussy and sucked and sucked, just as if he were drawing it from her, as if he were drinking her cunt juice from a two-handled cup.

    Her twat rose out of the water. Silvery liquid cascaded from the smooth rise of her mound and flowed from the sides of her hips. Her pussy seemed pointed towards the sky, as if she were fucking the great huge ball of the sun overhead.

    It was maddening. It was one of the most erotic experiences of her life, and she came and came, squeezing, pushing-dangerously hard. She felt a sudden rippling, a release of pressure she couldn't hold back any longer.

    "Roger! Oh God, honey! Roger, I'm pissing!"

    Shame swept through her. He held her pussy out of the water, his hands pressuring up under her butt. Her thighs were wide apart, the inner surfaces of them turned outward as her legs rotated in her hip sockets.

    A spout of fluid arced up from her twat and glittered in the bright, yellow sunlight. It fell into the pool in quick droplets that skittered across the surface.

    Roger lifted his head and kept her pussy up and stared down avidly and watched her shame pour forth. His face went slack with lust. She tried to stop and couldn't.. Her body shuddered with the last pulses of orgasm, and they were given extra power by the utterly wanton feelings sweeping through her.

    "Ohhhh, Mom." Roger whispered huskily.

    He watched her hole open wide and emit her fluid. He saw her cunt mouth quivering and sucking underneath. He moved forward slightly and let the stream spatter against his stomach, warm and smooth. He walked right up against her cunt until there was a hissing sound, and then he fell against her and hugged her and brought their bodies upright in the water.

    He kissed her again and again, his tongue sliding into her mouth, tangling with hers, reaching for the back of her throat. His chest mashed her tits flat, and his hands cupped her ass and lifted her high in the water.

    "God, you're the most exciting mom a guy could ever want to have!" he cried;

    He wrapped her thighs around his waist and pushed her down, still holding her by her ass. She knew what was coming. But it was so hard-so terribly hard and incredibly stiff.

    His prick shot into her pussy. Her cunt was spread wide open because of her straddling position. She felt water and prick enter her silken hole, and a bubble of air zigzagged up between their bodies and popped, bringing the aroma of her hot pussy with it.

    "Ohhhh, Roger, I'm sorry," she gasped, clinging to his neck, hiding her face in the hollow of it "I didn't mean to do that. I couldn't stop it. The long drive down here, and then-you made me come so terribly hard I..

    "Mom! Mom, your pussy! God, make it suck at my prick again! Make my cock squirt up in you!"

    She tightened her thighs about his waist and dug her heel into the crack of his ass. His legs spread to balance them in the water. She tried to move up and down, but the water slowed her motions. She sucked with the smooth muscles of her pussy and felt his prick reach for the back of her cunt and dance there.

    "Yaaaaagh!" he growled lightly. "Here it comes! I'm gonna pin up your pussy, Mom! White sticky Jesus, I'm coming!"

    His cock bucked and swelled inside her split pussy. It trembled and throbbed and spewed forth his load of sperm, filling her cunt completely, pressuring out through the root-stuffed lips.

    Strings of cum floated lazily up between them, and still he kept pouring his cum into her belly. And she kept drinking it in with her pussy, drawing it from his balls, letting her hot, trembling cunt overflow with the volume of it.

    He staggered. They would have gone over sideways if they hadn't been supported by the water. He gasped heavily, his chest heaving against hers. Then he looked at her with sleepy eyes and grinned.

    "What a mother," he said tenderly.

    She laughed. Her blue eyes danced. She shook her butt against his middle, feeling giddy and young and light. "What a mother-fucker," she giggled.

    She twirled away from him and began swimming, goading him into chasing her again. She thought about what she'd said, what they'd done again.

    She should have felt guilty and base, but she didn't. She felt free. The times before, back at the big house in Miami, Paul's presence had been there. No matter where she had gone in the house to open her legs to her son and let him fuck her, her husband's heavy presence had been there.

    It wasn't here. It wasn't a part of this place any more than she had been a part of it.

    Could that have been the reason he hadn't shared it with her? Because he knew it wasn't his, wasn't theirs, wasn't something for them to share? If so, why wasn't it? Whose personality was built into the walls, reflected by the sweeping designs, nurtured in the abundance of planters? Who was it that gleamed with blue-white hardness from the chrome and glass?

    She stopped swimming.. Roger wasn't chasing bet He'd hauled himself from the pool and was sitting on the edge, his wet shorts dripping from his hands.

    She watched him get up and step into them. They were transparent and clung to his ass and hips. He left wet footprints as he trailed away from the pool and headed up a flight of outside stairs towards the balcony and the row of rooms looking at the ocean with blank glassy eyes.

    "Roger?" she called after him.

    "Gonna look around, Mom," he called back. He grinned feebly. He looked debauched.

    She hugged herself in the cool water and shivered slightly, flushing with shame at the same time. Was it possible the old lady was too hot for the young boy to handle?

    She smiled to herself and giggled and squeezed her hand round her cunt to contain the fiery tingling there.


    CHAPTER SEVEN

    'Hey, come up and take a look at what I found!"

    Vera had been floating on her back, enjoying the warmth of the sun against her bare tits, the coolness of the water surrounding her rump and pulsing erotically between her thighs.

    She stood upright and searched the balcony area and saw him leaning over the iron railing. He waved her forward.

    "Come on-you won't believe it!" He called again.

    Vera waded towards the shallow end of the pool. She went under water to pick up her dress and panties. She heaved the soggy dress onto the cement siding with a splat and spread it in the sun, where it would dry quickly.

    She stepped into her panties and saw that the wet nylon was totally transparent, no more than a lemony coloration to her hips and butt. It sank into the crack of her ass and into the gap between her pussylips and was like no covering at all.

    She mounted the stairs. Roger hadn't waited for her. She found the open door to the room and looked inside. He was lying on a bed, bouncing up and down on it. His hips bucked and thrust into the air, and his cock bulged inside his damp shorts.

    Vera stood and watched him. She gazed about the room with utter disbelief. This wasn't one of Paul's motels. There was absolutely nothing about it that was him-least of all in the bed her son was bouncing and jiggling on.

    "A waterbed, Mom!" he cried happily, setting it and his body into erotic motion.

    After a long moment, Vera took note of the rest of the room. There were two wide chairs that looked big enough to hold a snuggling couple in them. There was a small desk, a low dresser, and a large TV mounted oddly high at the foot of the jiggling bed. It was a frame that permitted it to be turned and viewed from nearly anywhere in the room, but most advantageously from the bed. The control and was even on one of the nightstands on either side of the bed.

    Roger reached out and took her hand, pulling her onto the bed with him. She tried to remain erect but went over on her face, and her tits burrowed into the giving softness and were massaged by the moving water inside the bed.

    "Man, this is something else, isn't it, Mom? Feel the way it cups your butt and everything all over? Feel the way it tosses you around and makes you fuck the whole damn world! Ya-ha!" he cried, bouncing wildly, making her toss helplessly.

    "Roger, stop!" she laughed.

    "Hey, pretty lady-look at you there!" he grinned, gazing at her with that hungry look again. "'Mmmm, just look at the way your tits shake and your pussy moves up and down. Mom-we gotta! God, come here, you beautiful wench, and let us sport together on the sportiest bed I've ever seen!"

    He came towards her, reaching out. Vera giggled and swooped high with his movements, everything tipsy and jiggling and heaving. Her butt sank into the form-fitting water, and her tits bobbed on her chest.

    Her whole body was twisted and shoved and massaged into odd, erotic positions. She couldn't get away from him if she'd wanted to. There was no stability. But she saw the rod like erection trying to rip through his briefs, and she didn't want to go.

    "Ohhhh, darling-I feel so wanton!" she cried softly.

    "Me, too, Mom. I'm wantin' you;" he punned. He roiled onto his back, his legs wavering in all directions, and stripped his briefs from his butt, pushing them off his feet and tossing them recklessly aside.

    He reached for her body again, wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her close, pinning her down. If you could call it being pinned down.

    The bed heaved under her back. Her head didn't move the way it should have. Her butt and hips were uncontrollable. She felt like the rubber lady in the circus, totally boneless.

    She could do little more than laugh gleefully as she was tossed around. and felt her wet panties being rolled over her hips. She did her best to lift her ass from the bed so that he could get them over her hips.

    Her tits rolled and jiggled on her chest in constant motion, and her pelvis rocked up and down as if she were fucking an imaginary prick stabbing at her from above the bed.

    "Honey, stop the jigging!" she laughed. "I'm getting seasick!"

    "We just started the jiggling, baby," he said huskily. "Mmmm, I love your pussy, Mom." He gazed at her cunt and ran his hand over her bush, between her thighs.

    His finger parted her bloated pussylips and slipped up and down the satiny gash. She heard the sound. Her cunt was wet already.

    "Juicy wench," Roger grinned at her, making his finger suck and smack at the mouth of her pussy. "A guy would think he was your first prick in ten years-that you'd been saving up all that juice for at least that long."

    "Honey, I can't help it," she said, turning her head to the side with embarrassment.

    She let him finger her cunt. She let the juices flow. He 'was just about right. She had been saving it up. Longer than ten years. God, how mistaken she'd been in thinking that Paul had satisfied bet Paul had only kept her from climbing the walls with hunger.

    And yet, with ill the criticisms and complaints and the way she could dig up old thinp that had been wrong, she'd loved him dearly. If he'd died a year ago, when she was still a part of him, before this strange motel had even been thought of, she would have been lost without him.

    But the past year had insulated her from the bulk of the shock his death had brought. She was sad he was gone. She would miss him. But, in a sense, she had outgrown him. Grown away from him, at least headed a different direction.

    She moaned and turned her bobbing head to the side and opened her slippery, flowing pussy to him, letting all the pent-up desires and needs loose.

    Age had had its turn with her. It was time that youth did, too, while she was still young enough to respond to its passions.

    Roger leaned over her box. She could feel his warm breath on her pussy. She lifted up with a shudder, eager for him to suck her twat again.

    The bed went wild. His nose mashed against her cunt mound and thighs. He had difficulty keeping his face to her snatch, and the more she bucked involuntarily, the harder it became.

    "I can't hold your cunt still, Mom," he said. "You're just too wild for it. You're going to have to settle for a stiff prick instead, whether you like it or not"

    He was grinning as he came up her body and lay tit between his lips. She laughed and smiled back. "I think I can stand it. Oh, Roger," she whispered, her voice suddenly thick with passion. "Fuck me, darling. Fuck it into me long and hard!"

    He let out a sound, half-gasp, half-whimper. He climbed over her body. The bed heaved and rocked. She opened her thighs as wide as they would go, lifting her knees to cradle his body.

    His stiff prick poked and jabbed and nudged into the wrong places as he sought her watering, warm hole. It was exciting, incredibly erotic.

    "No, you're… up higher, honey. Ow, ow, oh! Ahhh… there, darling, there! Yes! Push! Fuck… ohhhhh, fuck me, fuck me!" "Jesus, Mom! Jesus!"

    "Ohhhhhh, so deep, darling! So stiff and big! God, I'm swallowing your prick all the way! Roger… Roger! The bed's fucking us! Ohhhh, feel how it shoves my pussy up around your cock! God, it's like a big, gentle hand all over my ass, cupping, squeezing… Oh, Roger, I'm so hot-so hot, darling!"

    She flung her arms around his neck. She clung to him. The world went on a crazy, heaving ride. It was in constant motion. He fucked into her, and the bed made her pussy lift and open and fuck him back.

    Her tits spiked stiffly at the ends and punched against his chest. Her head bobbed up and down with the motions of the bed, and she felt as if she had absolutely no control over anything, that the marvelous sensations were buffeting and tossing her toward orgasm again. tit between his lips. She laughed and smiled back. "I think I can stand it. Oh, Roger," she whispered, her voice suddenly thick with passion. "Fuck me, darling. Fuck it into me long and hard!"

    He let out a sound, half-gasp, half-whimper. He climbed over her body. The bed heaved and rocked. She opened her thighs as wide as they would go, lifting her knees to cradle his body.

    His stiff prick poked and jabbed and nudged into the wrong places as he sought her watering, warm hole. It was exciting, incredibly erotic.

    "No, you're… up higher, honey. Ow, ow, oh! Ahhh… there, darling, there! Yes! Push! Fuck… ohhhhh, fuck me, fuck me!" "Jesus, Mom! Jesus!"

    "Ohhhhhh, so deep, darling! So stiff and big! God, I'm swallowing your prick all the way! Roger… Roger! The bed's fucking us! Ohhhh, feel how it shoves my pussy up around your cock! God, it's like a big, gentle hand all over my ass, cupping, squeezing… Oh, Roger, I'm so hot-so hot, darling!"

    She flung her arms around his neck. She clung to him. The world went on a crazy, heaving ride. It was in constant motion. He fucked into her, and the bed made her pussy lift and open and fuck him back.

    Her tits spiked stiffly at the ends and punched against his chest. Her head bobbed up and down with the motions of the bed, and she felt as if she had absolutely no control over anything, that the marvelous sensations were buffeting and tossing her toward orgasm again.

    She gasped and opened her eyes. The TV sat at the foot of the heaving bed bobbed and weaved in her vision. She looked at it, and a corner of her mind wondered about it.

    Why was it there? Why was it suspended from the ceiling, pointed towards the bed that heaved and bobbed and made fucking a whole new experience? Why had Paul done a thing like that?

    Why had Paul put waterbeds in the rooms? Fucking beds…

    Paul hadn't. It was clear he hadn't. It simply wasn't him.

    Then who? Why had Paul allowed this motel to be part of the Hanson chain of sober, respectable inns? Or had he fought against it? Was that why the Hanson emblem was missing from the glass front? Was that why he had kept her from being a part of it, too-because he hadn't wanted to admit fathering this bastard motel?

    Her emotions spun. She didn't want to think about any of it any more. She began to feel uneasy. She stared at the blank, gray-black screen hanging from the ceiling. She wondered what it had been put there to show to the occupants of the flicking bed.

    "Mom! God, it's wild, Mom! I-I can't hold out much longer. Are you ready, Mom?" Roger gasped. "Are you getting dose?"

    Her attention came back. Her body had reached a level, a plateau. She didn't know if it world climb higher.

    She felt his prick sliding wildly in and out of her pussy. Her hips heaved and tossed without her conscious volition. The bed had turned her into a fucking machine that automatically made her cunt strip and suck at whatever was in it.

    She clung to her son and made her mind stop wandering, stop seeking answers to questions shrouded with mystery. She strained slightly. Then she realized that she had usually strained with Paul, trying to match his quickness, before he came and gasped and collapsed against her and made her have to wait until he was ready to finish her off.

    "Mom, I can't hold it!" Roger gasped tightly, pressing against her. "This goddamn bed won't let me hold it!"

    "It's all right, darling-come! Come in me, Roger. Ohhh, come hard and fill my pussy full of sperm!"

    "Yaaaagh!" he cried tightly, shuddering violently.

    His prick throbbed and bucked in her twat. It spewed hot cum against her slippery walls and made them even silkier. The bed heaved and tossed and wouldn't let him quit fucking.

    "Ahhhhgh! Mom!" he cried. lie writhed atop her, nearly as if in agony. His supersensitive cock throbbed and burned, as it flicked back and forth in her silken, grasping cunt.

    His terrible heat jogged her. She turned the corner and was able to stop grasping. Her body caught fire. She heaved and set the bed in wild motion and made Roger whimper even louder.

    Her pussy started spasming and pulsing and sucking around his fiery cock. Her silken tissues were merciless, the way they pulled and sucked and drew at his flaming prick.

    "Jesus!" He whined. "I'm gonna come again!"

    "Ohhhh, do it! Come in me again, darling! I'm ready now! Yes, yes! Now! Abhhhh!"

    Her pussy crushed down around the swollen shaft inside it. Her body heaved and tossed on the fucking bed. Roger stiffened above her as if stunned, and his prick bucked and exploded.

    He groaned loudly, nearly painfully, and trickle of sperm oozed out the tip of his cock and was swept away by the flood of pussy juice pouring from her cunt walls.

    At the last, he gave a final heave with his arms, pushing himself from her body. His prick sucked out of her pussy with a popping sound of wetness, and he rolled over onto his back beside her, making her body heave up in the air again.

    They lay side by side and gasped heavily, recovering from the wild ride. Suddenly, there was a sharp series of sounds. They echoed from the cement walls and penetrated her sex-fogged mind and gradually became the sounds of clapping hands.


    CHAPTER EIGHT

    Vera cried out and sat up quickly. There were two figures in the doorway, applauding slowly. They were in silhouette against the bright day behind them.

    Her heart stopped beating for a moment. Fear shot through her and left her speechless. Then shame took over and made her try to hide her sperm-drenched cunt behind her cupping hand as she thrust it between her thighs.

    She thought of the other car they'd seen in the lot. She thought of the terrible perversion they'd just witnessed-of her and her son flicking-and she had the sinking feeling that this motel was going to ruin her now, just as it had her husband.

    Roger sat up beside her. He didn't even try to hide his bowing, wet prick. His chest swelled out protectively, and his voice was impressively growling.

    "Who the goddamn hell are you! What are you doing here!"

    "Might ask you the same question, friend," the man said, coming into the room. He moved on the balls of his feet as if ready to spring at any moment. He was slender and wiry, with a thin face and falcon-sharp eyes. When he was no longer in silhouette, it was clear that he was a man you wouldn't want to mess with, reptilian and slippery.

    The girl with him hung back a moment as if wishing she weren't even there, and then she came in with him. She was astonishingly pretty, her eyes large and brown, her hair dark and satiny and cut close to her head.

    She was small and sylph-like in her movements, but there was a hint of gravity to them that didn't belong. It gave her a spiritlessness, as if she were with the man because he compelled her to be.

    "You might ask," Roger said. "But as soon as I haul your ass in for trespassing on private property, you'll know what I'm doing here."

    The man looked at him through narrowed eyes that didn't blink. After a moment, he laughed thinly. His smile was slim and wicked. He kept himself poised and balanced, as if ready for any movement Roger might make. He was a man accustomed to making short work of surprise moves.

    "Trespassing," the man echoed in a flat voice. "That implies things, kid. You wouldn't be trying to tell me you're Hanson's kid, would you?"

    "How would you know about that?" Roger asked, his bluster fading to wariness.

    "Name's Dancer-Dan Dancer. Max Sawyer's attorney. The little fluff here's Rainey. Say hello to the new bossman, Rainey."

    He ordered it in an oily way. The girl cringed slightly under his touch. Then her large eyes looked directly into Roger's, and there was some kind of communication in her glance, something forlorn and pleading that Vera couldn't miss.

    Dancer shifted his gaze. It fell on Vera's naked body and slithered slowly up and down it, snaking into every hollow and curve. She turned her hips sideways so that he couldn't look between her legs and imagine the drenched pussy under her hand, but then she knew he was looking into the deep crack of her ass. There was no way to hide from his gaze. Even if she were fully dressed, there would be no hiding from it.

    "Some motel, huh, kid?" he said to Roger. "Real enjoyable. A kind of hate to see it open. Rainey and I come here all the time. Maybe you saw my car in the lot just before you had your little swim."

    Vera's scalp tingled with the sudden rush of shame through her. The evil little bastard had seen everything!

    "You didn't answer the question, Dancer," Roger said.

    "I been here checking things and finishing up some of the fine points to the electronics here. It's a hobby of mine," he added.

    "Electronics?" Roger questioned his tone puzzled.

    "Yeah, that's right. Max and your old man-they agreed with me that there wasn't any Point spending money for an independent when I could do the job myself."

    "What job? You got this place bugged or something?"

    Dancer laughed. "It's an idea. But it's been done. This is something new. The TVs are all on closed circuit, didn't you know?"

    Roger turned his head and looked at the big, oddly located set over the foot of the bed. Vera looked with him. Her skin prickled.

    "It's a pretty good touch, Hanson," Dancer grinned thinly. "Your old man didn't think much of it, but he came around finally. It took sonic persuasion. But you look like a guy who won't give us any static about it, especially since it's already in and working I wonder what else you don't know about this place." "I know I own it."

    "Yeah, well, we'll have to talk some about that before the stockholders' meeting next week. Did you know there was one?"

    "Cutter didn't tell us anything about it."

    Dancer smiled very slowly. "Well, I picas I got to you before Cutter did, then. That's good. Good." He nodded towards Vera. "Who's the chick you been dicking? Looks like she's got a few years on you. You gotta watch that kind, kid. They usually want something. Like maybe a piece of what you just inherited."

    "You asshole, that's my mom" Roger flared, cutting himself off quickly. He sputtered and glanced at Rainey and then at the floor.

    The laughter began softly and evilly. It built in pitch and became something so. horrible and slimy that Vera wanted to sink into the waterbed and drown in it.

    "Yes, sir!" Dancer cackled. "No static at all about the system. How about that, Rainey? Looks like we're meeting both the new bosses here. Real swingers, by God, not like old Hanson. Is Max gonna like this new arrangement, huh?"

    "God, no!" Vera cried.

    She looked into the evil slits of his eyes and away again quickly, knowing it had been a mistake to show him the depth of her shame. She felt as if she could shake to pieces without even trying.

    "That's all tight, Mrs. Hanson," Dancer said. "What you want to do with your kid is no business of mine. Me and Rainey don't think a thing about kinky sex. We love it, in fact. Rainey, go show the new boss kid there how much we love it, how much you appreciate meeting him. Be extra nice, baby."

    Rainey looked at Roger with soulful eyes. She glanced once at Dancer with a look of hatred that was hard to miss. He merely grinned. She moved towards Roger and stood in front of him and gazed softly into his eyes.

    Vera's heart pounded in her chest as she watched, unable to believe anything would really happen. And then she wasn't sure. Roger's expression was strange. He seemed eager and yet conscious of his mother's presence at the name

    Rainey lowered her eyes after a long moment. "Not in this room, Dan," she said, her voice small and afraid.

    Dancer turned his head, swiveling it atop his neck in reptilian fashion. His arm blurred with speed, and his open palm smacked her stomach with a sharp slap.

    "Do what I tell you to do, bitch," he grated. He looked at Vera and Roger with his thin grin. "Sometimes Rainey forgets." He didn't explain what it was she sometimes forgot.

    The girl didn't make a sound. She sucked her soft, full lower lip between her teeth in obvious pain, but that was all. After a moment, she tossed her head up and reached behind her back. She faced Roger again and paused. It was as if she were blacking the rest of the room from her mind, seeing only hint

    She slid her zipper down and slipped her dress from her body with immense grace. Her tits were bare, small and pert. Her waist was delicately slim, her hips and tight butt a dainty handful. She pushed down light-blue panties and exposed her dark bush and puffy, small-lipped cunt.

    Roger's eyes went wide. He licked his lips and stared at her perfect body. They gazed into each other's eyes again for a long moment, and his prick shot up stiffly with astonishing speed.

    Vera watched the two of them with a strange detachment. That was her son there. They'd been fucking like torrid lovers the past week, against all the taboos. But his cock had never sprouted for his mother the way he'd stiffened for Rainey just now. Vera knew it was something more than physical. There was silent, deep communication between them, and she was excluded from it.

    Rainey came between his legs, still looking into his eyes. His prick pointed up towards her pussy and throbbed wildly, as if ignorant of the fact that it had just spewed twice into Vera's cunt.

    Rainey put her hands behind Roger's head and pulled his face towards her pussy. He darted forward and kissed her cunt impulsively, hungrily. She sucked in her breath with a soft sound and tipped her head back.

    She pushed him back. She lifted her trim legs one at a time and sat in his lap, facing him, her pussy sucking open and capturing the throbbing tip of his pulsing cock at the very mouth of her cunt.

    "That's not how you're supposed to do it," Dancer grated, just as she was ready to sink onto his shaft. He took two quick steps and yanked her head back viciously by her hair, making her yelp this time.

    "Hey, cut it out!" Roger shouted angrily.

    Dancer stood over him, pushing Rainey to her knees in front of Roger with hands on her shoulders. "Look, Hanson, this is my bitch. You handle yours over there any way you want and let me handle mine. When I tell her to suck cock, I want to see that mouth open. When I tell her to fuck, she spreads those puffy little prick squeezers open with her fingers and makes her cunt wet. Then she gets fucked up her cunt, up her ass, maybe in her ear, if I feel like it. That way, me and Rainey get along just fine." He waggled her head by her hair. "Isn't that right, baby?"

    "Yes," she said tremulously, her voice barely audible.

    "That's my girl. Now, you show the new boss a goad time."

    He pushed her head forward. Her mouth opened. Dancer guided her parted lips onto Roger's prick and stepped back, grinning wickedly.

    Rainey's dainty fingers took the shaft and jacked it slowly. She played with Roger's balls. Her lips sucked up and down his prick. After a moment, she was able to block out Dancer from her mind. She sucked softly on Roger's prick until he moaned.

    Vera watched the incredible spectacle. Roger glanced at her once, then tipped his head back and lifted his hips to the girl's mouth. The pink tongue slithered up and down his shaft, and her lips squeezed and relaxed and made his cock hard and throbbing. She sucked his prick as if it were the most wonderful prick in the world, as if he were the last man in the world.

    Vera watched and felt a mixture of emotions. It was more than the degrading scene of a moment before. It was more than watching her son get his cock sucked. She'd watched Sally suck him and fuck him.

    But that night, in some strange way, Roger had been loving her, not the girl he was fucking. It was different now. His attention was on Rainey this time, she could feel it. He was casting her aside.

    She didn't know how to react. Yet she knew she'd been guilty of the same feelings on the way down, when she'd been thinking about Thorne. Maybe it was best, maybe, in time, they should stop being lovers.

    "Ohhhhh, God," Roger moaned softly.

    He went back on his elbows. The bed heaved gently. and his prick fucked up into Rainey's waiting mouth. Her lips sucked all the way to his pubes, and her throat bulged oddly. Roger gasped and gasped.

    Dancer came forward and lifted Rainey's ass, smoothing his hands over the tight spheres. He took her free hand and guided it between her legs, then stepped back again.

    Rainey left her hand there. She started finger-fucking herself while she sucked Roger's cock. She moaned and puffed breath through her nostrils and made her ass weave with heat, and her fingers made sucking sounds in her wet pussy.

    Dancer grinned with satisfaction. He looked at Vera. "I told you there was nothing to be embarrassed about in front of us." He came towards her, moving in that way of his, his eyes on her tits, snaking down to where her hand still covered her pussy.

    "Oh, no," she said, shaking her head, backing away from him. She made the bed heave and roll and Roger's hips fuck up and down.

    Dancer went to the control panel by the side of the bed and pushed a button. There was a crackling from the TV over the bed. A color picture bloomed onto it, as big and real as life.

    An open, pink-red, juice-slick pussy filled the screen. A thick cock spread the tissues and fucked into it, making it quiver. A moan of pleasure came from the speaker, and the pussy quivered around the flicking shaft. Every pube, every droplet of cunt juice, every wrinkle and fold of silkiness was visible.

    Vera stared with shocked eyes. "My God," she cried softly. She felt an unwanted wave of lust tinge through her body and make her pussy spasm under her fingers.

    Dancer cackled and sat beside her on the bed, watching her slim body. "Closed circuit movies, Mrs. Hanson," he said. "With waterbeds to better enjoy them on. And an advertising sign outside telling the passing tourist what a wild vacation be can have after all. It can't miss."

    "Paul didn't think this up!" she cried at him after a moment of stunned silence. "Not my husband!"

    It was all clear, now-the past year. This was why he didn't want her involved with the motel. This was the evil of it that had made him withdrawn and silent. This is what had given him his heart trouble.

    Oh, Paul! She cried inwardly. I thought it was trouble between us!

    She wanted to flee. She wanted to fall to her knees and beg Paul's forgiveness for the things she'd thought and felt about him, for what she'd been doing with Roger.

    Her mind swam. She didn't see Dancer reach for her, but she felt his hand close about her tit and squeeze. She squeaked and flied to lunge away, but she got no purchase from the bed.

    The tucking on the screen became electric in pitch with orgasm. She saw sperm trickle out around the fucking prick and gather in the kids and pockets of the quivering, sucking pussy.

    Then she heard her son gasp with his approach. She saw Rainey's head bobbing up and down frantically, drawing his orgasm from him. She ssw Rainey's hand swirling through her slippery pussy meat and her tight buttcheeks quiver as she finished herself off at the same time.

    The girl's throat worked as she swallowed Roger's load and took his bucking -prick deep. Juice glistened on her inner thigh and then became smeared on Roger's hip as she moved her hand there and hugged her face to his body.

    They looked at each other after a moment, with a rapport thick enough to cut. Even Dancer was astounded by it.

    "Goddamn," he said. "It looks like love. Can you beat that?" He squeezed Vera's tit again and grinned at her. "See, baby, it's all around you. It's what makes the world go around. Now, take your hand away from your wet pussy there, and let's us join the world."

    "Roger, stop him!" she cried.

    It was like a rerun of the night with Dalton. Roger paid no attention. He'd discovered the TV, and he was gawking at it, watching the big prick fuck between the flared cheeks of a girl's butt, right into her asshole. A tongue was licking her fluttering pussylips from underneath, drilling against the sprouting cut.

    Then Rainey was climbing over him, pushing her small tits against his mouth and moaning as if she meant it. The girl's thighs opened, and she slid down Roger's body and took his thrusting prick into her open, wet aunt, and they began to flick, arms entwined, lips glued together in a passionate kiss.

    Something went out of Vera. It was all around her. It had defeated Paul, and it would defeat her if she tried to fight it. She felt the bed heave and push under her, molding around her butt and lifting her hips up wantonly.

    Dancer was on his knees. He ran his zipper down. A long, thin cock bowed towards her like something serpentine. She gasped and looked into the evil slits of his eyes and knew there was no use fighting him.

    She couldn't make a legal objection. He'd caught her flicking her own son. The thought of public exposure made her head spin, and she stopped struggling against the inevitable.

    Dancer saw the fight go out of her. He grinned and pushed his pants to his knees. He came against her. She turned her head, and there was the TV again. She could feel the motions her son and Rainey made as they flicked.

    She could have sworn it was the bed's motion that made it happen. That's what she wanted to believe. Her pussy lifted high. Her thighs fell open, and the sticky, silky cuntlips sucked apart.

    Dancer's long cock was suddenly between them. Vera gasped, her mind rejecting the way her aunt muscles began quivering and drawing at the spongy head of it.

    "Oh, God, don't flick me!" she cried. "Roger, he's going to fuck me! Stop him! Ohhhh, Roger, don't."

    The plea choked off. It was too late. The long cock was sliding far, far back into her pussy, going much too slickly, much too easily.

    She heard Dancer cackle with a wicked sound. There was no use explaining to him why her pussy was so slippery, seemingly so ready. It was from Roger's sperm in her, not excitement for Dan Dancer. At least, she wanted that to be the answer. But he was a good flicker. As evil and reptilian as he was, he knew how to drill his snakelike cock into her twat and make her hips jerk up and her pussy suck open.

    "Don't sweat it, Mrs. Hanson," he rasped in her ear, lying against her, making his hips swivel and pound against hers with shameful sensation. "Just close your eyes and think about the prick in you. Once that's in, it doesn't matter who it belongs to, didn't you know that?"

    "You creep!" she whimpered, avoiding his lips when he tried to kiss her. There was something absurd about that. His prick could plumb her depths, but he couldn't kiss her.

    "Better yet, just watch the TV and get hot. That's what it's for, you know. That's why your husband put it in."

    "He didn't put that in. You did. Max Sawyer did. Not Paul."

    "You talk too much when you're supposed to be fucking. You want to talk later, we'll talk. Right now, baby, we're fucking, get me?"

    He bored hard into her, his long cock reaching the back of her cunt, prodding her cervix, making her wince with slight pain. She lay as still as she could on the heaving bed and let him fuck her. She wanted it over with. She wanted to get back to Miami and lock herself in the house and let Thorne handle all this. She didn't want any more to do with this damn motel. And she wanted nothing to do with Dan Dancer, ever again. Or Max Sawyer, if this was the kind of man he kept around him.

    "Mom-oh, Mom," Roger gasped quietly.

    She looked to the side. He and Rainey were there. The girl was on top of him, straddling his body, squatting over his prick. Her hands cupped her smallish, tight tits. Her head was tipped back. There was an expression on her face more fitting to her sultry beauty than Vera had seen yet.

    "Mom…" Roger whispered again, a sound of perplexity in his tone, as if he couldn't quite believe how marvelous he felt with Rainey's pussy sliding up and down his cock.

    Vera looked. The girl's cunt was facing her. She could see every fold and wrinkle, all the pinkness of her wet tissues, the way her son's prick slid in and out of the tight cunt mouth.

    Roger's face was right next to hers. They were nearly kissing, they wert so close. She felt the thrill build in her son, and something built inside herself.

    It was like the night with Dalton and Sally, when they flicked each other from a distance, gazing into -each other's eyes. And yet it wasn't quite the same.

    She knew what it: was Roger had left and he had found someone else, and he-was ready to spurt into her pussy again. Any moment. Now…

    Roger's eyes left hers. They swung towards Rainey. He and the girl watched each other come to climax with adoration thick enough to cut. "Rainey!" Roger cried.

    He reached up with his hands. The girl fell against him. Their moans blended, and their bodies shuddered as they came at the same time, her pussy squeezing and sucking around his exploding cock.

    "Christ!" Dancer grated with a sneer, watching them, too.

    His expression was clear. It was disgusting to get emotional over a piece of ass. Cunts were for fucking, not falling in love with.

    He plunged into Vera's pussy without a shred of tenderness, as if totally incapable of such an emotion.

    "Ah!" Vera cried sharply, pain thudding through her body.

    "That's what it's about baby," Dancer sneered. "Sensation. Pain or pleasure, it doesn't matter. They're two sides of the same coin. I'm going to enjoy teaching you that, just the way I taught Rainey. Yeah, I'm going to love being in business with you."

    Vera tossed her head from side to side, barely able to hold back a wail of tenor. It was bad enough to have him flack her this time. The thought of seeing him ever again shot clear through her.

    There was a scrape of shoe leather on the cement outside. Then a voice, smooth and bassy, filled the mom.

    "What the hell's going on in here, Dan?"


    CHAPTER NINE

    Dancer jerked his head around. There was a terrible snarl on his lips. The expression faded when the man came into the roam and stood with his feet braced and his hands cocked on his hips.

    Vera wanted to cry out with relief and shame bath. For a dizzying moment, she was swept back to the time eighteen years ago, when Paul had come into the room in just the same way and stopped the degrading fucking.

    Dancer pulled his cock out quickly-so fast that her pussy tissues half clung to it and made her feel as if her cunt were being drawn inside out.

    He sat on his legs and looked at the man. His expression was totally different-rather subservient. He was definitely no longer the dominant figure in the room. The man in the doorway was, and there hadn't even been a battle.

    "Just having a little party here, Max," Dancer answered finally. He nodded towards the pretty girl who had come up behind the man. "You and Joyce come on in and join us, huh? Hey, do all the TVs work okay? I guess you were coming down the line checking them, huh?"

    Max Sawyer ran his eyes over Vera's body, looking into her wet cunt for just a moment. He gazed at Roger and Rainey, who were still huddled together, prick and pussy joined.

    Max was in his early forties. His build was good, his coloring tanned, with silvery patches in the hair at his temples. He looked as if he'd just stepped off his yacht. Bushy eyebrows were fierce at first, then paternal in appearance.

    The girl behind him was a little older than Roger. Her hair was red-blonde, her features delicate and doll-like. She looked over his shoulder with wide green eyes and a perky, mischievous smile on her full lips.

    After a long moment, Max stopped frowning, but his face stayed craggy. "They're all working fine, Dan," he said, coming into the room a little farther. "Who are these people? I thought I told you I didn't want any messing around on this deal, fella. Can't yow keep it in your pants at all any more? Rainey was supposed to solve that problem. That's why we saved her, wasn't it?"

    "Hey, Max," Dancer said with a nervous laugh, spreading his hands out placatingly. "They were already in here tucking each other. Rainey and I just joined in, that's all." His eyes slid in their slits towards Vera, and the nastiness leaped from him, snarling and fanged, a split second of it meant only for her, telling her to be careful what she said to Max.

    "They were up here? What do you mean, they were here? How did they get in, for Christ's sake?"

    "With a key, Max," Dancer said wickedly. "That's Mr. Hanson, and that's her swinging kid. Not like old Paul, huh?"

    "What!" Max cried. He looked at Vera penetratingly and made her want to shrivel with shame. Then he let out a short laugh. "Well, it's a hell of a way to meet you finally, Mrs. Hanson, I guess, but hello." He leaned over the bed and stuck out a blunt hand.

    Vera looked at it dumbly. She took it. It was dry and firm. She felt absolutely ridiculous, lying naked on a waterbed with a wet cunt and shaking hands with her husband's business partner.

    "This is Joyce," he said, nodding towards the pretty girl, his voice ludicrously formal. He looked at Dancer, then down at his long prick, still half-stiff, still shiny with her pussy juice. "Cover it up, Dan, the party's over. With Vera, it's over for good, understand?"

    There was menace in the tone. Dancer paled slightly. "Sure, Max," he said. He looked down at his cock. "Seems I've got this problem though, Max. You came in at just the wrong time."

    "You've always got that problem, Dan. The trouble with you is that you're always trying to solve it in the wrong places and at the wrong times. One day, I'm going to get up to here with your problem, because I'll never know when it's going to mess me up, you understand?" He was still smiling, but his eyes were like black bearings.

    "Sure, Max," Dancer said, licking his lips. "But Rainey got kind of busy with the kid there, and… I thought..

    "That's the way it goes sometimes, Dan. But do your thinking when I tell you to, because you get a little shit-headed when you think all by yourself. Get your pants on."

    Dancer licked his lips again. "How about if I borrow Joyce for a little while first, huh?"

    The bushy brows became a dark shelf shadowing the caves beneath them where tigers looked out. "One day, Dan, I'm going to take that goddamn cock of yours and wrap it under your body and make you do something with it most people say is impossible. Go check the circuits down in the office.

    Dancer held Max's hard gaze for a defiant moment. Then he swept up his pants and thrust one leg after the other into them. He looked at Rainey, who was huddled against Roger fearfully, then decided he'd better not push Max any farther. He stalked out of the room.

    Max turned to Vera, smiling with a suddenly paternal expression. "Why don't you and Joyce and I go into the next room where we can talk. Roger and Rainey can stay here and enjoy the TV." He looked at Rainey. "I've never seen her look so happy before. Dan doesn't agree with her the way your son does. Maybe I'll do something about that."

    It was as good as a promise. As if Rainey were an object of barter. Veta already had an idea what Max would request in return.

    She slipped off the bed and scooped up her panties and slipped into them quickly. Max didn't watch, which was a refreshing change for this degrading day:

    Joyce was leaning against the railing outside. She wore red shorts and a powder-blue tank top. Her nipples showed clearly. Her eyes went up and down Vera's body with interest, centering on her tipped boobs and then the crotch of her panties.

    Without warning, with a little mischievous giggle, Joyce yanked off her top and pushed her shorts to her feet and stepped out of them, posing in the bright sun. Her tits were round and firm, the nipples big pink dots in the centers of them. Her ass was pert and tight, and yellow panties stretched across her cheeks.

    "There!" she said brightly. "Now you don't have; to feel embarrassed. I saw your dress dawn there. I don't like clothes anyway, do you? Max, isn't she terribly pretty?" She giggled again, staring with too much interest at Vera's nearly naked body.

    She came over and took Vera's hand and giggled with childish innocence. "Honey, why do you keep that Dan around? He gives me the creeps! Poor Rainey. Poor Vera, getting flicked by that long dick!" She shivered and hugged Vera in a sisterly way, one naked tit pushing against Vera's.

    "I don't like him any better than you do," Max said. "But he knows his stuff." He ushered them into a room.

    Joyce whooped and pulled Vera with her, sending them both flying onto the waterbed. "I just love these beds, Max!" she cried, her naked tits heaving under Vera when momentum carried her on top of the girl.

    The contact was not unpleasant to Vera. There was a pillowing softness to her tits, a pleasant yield to the firm flesh of her ass. Joyce wrestled her around on the bed like a boisterous teenager, almost too much to believe for the age she had.

    Vera looked at Max with a questioning expression, but he stood over the bed and looked down with a paternal grin, and Vera decided that Joyce was genuinely juvenile, high-spirited, and empty-headed-a fluffy little kitten who'd found what she thought was a playmate to romp with.

    "Max, turn on the TV, huh? I like all those fucky pictures!" she giggled.

    Max sat in the chair. "In a little while, maybe," he said with an indulgent tone. He tented his fingers and propped them under his chin and looked at Vera, ready to be serious.

    Joyce seemed to sense that. She stopped romping on the bed and bellied down beside Vera, close enough so that their hips touched, her round fits stretching slightly under her chest, her tight little ass mounding up from the base of her spine.

    "First of all," Max said, "I want you to know how sorry I am about Paul, Vera. He was a fine man, principled and honest. A pleasure to work with. Unfortunately, though, everything here at the motel has come to a complete halt, just days away from opening."

    There was a moment when Vera nearly choked up. Max was very warm and sincere. Her sexual embarrassment was gone. His whole attitude so far had been almost platonic. Even now he wasn't staring at her naked tits. And there was certainly no embarrassment from Joyce. The girl was so uninhibited she'd go pee in the corner of she got the urge to.

    "That leaves me a little up in the air," Max continued. "I had an agreement with your husband to manage this motel-just this one out of the whole Hanson chain, and the agreement was to be effective subsequent to the majority stock opinion after the meeting next week."

    Joyce was already bored with the conversation. She wriggled around on the bed and snuck towards the control panel and punched on the TV, with no sound. She climbed back onto the bed beside Vera and watched it avidly.

    Vera tried not to look, but she couldn't help it. There were two girls on the big screen. They went through all kinds of antics, sucking each other's pussies, rubbing their tits together and fingering each other in close-up, full-color shots.

    Vera became very conscious of the touch of Joyce's body against hers. The girl moved her hips slowly against the form-fitting bed as if she were becoming highly stimulated.

    Vera had a hell of a time keeping her attention on Max. The girls on the screen fascinated her. She'd always wondered what Lesbians did to fuck, and she was seeing it all."

    "What I'm getting at," Max went on, "is that Paul's agreement with me is legally dependent on how you and Roger vote next week. Since the stock isn't a matter for the estate to handle, I know Jack Cutter will advise you to keep your husband's agreement, and you know how much confidence Paul had in Jack-both as his attorney and his friend."

    "What are you after, Mr. Sawyer?" Vera finally managed to ask.

    "Max, please," he said, paternal smile big and friendly. "All I want is a smooth transition during this difficult time, Vera-an honoring of your husband's agreement with me. Your assurances that you and your son won't do something-irrational and against good counseling from Paul's attorney. Very simply, I'm requesting you and Roger to vote the stack the way Paul was going to vote it-for me to manage this motel. There'd be no objection to that, would there?"

    "I… I g-guess not, Max," Vera stammered.

    She didn't know. Right at that moment, she wasn't sure of anything but the sensuous emotions going through her.

    One of the girls on the TV had her finger up the other one's cunt. It slid back and forth like a prick. The pussy tossed and sucked at the finger. The folds and puffy tissues were, drenched with slippery, shining juice, and, muscles sucked inward with imminent orgasm.

    There was warmth against her hip from Joyce's smooth body. Then there was a cupping hand under her boob. It rolled and fondled and played with her nipple, making the rubbery nub fill and stretch shamelessly.

    "Joyce!" Vera said.

    She tried to make her voice sound shocked. It didn't quite come out that way. She looked at Max. He'd gotten out of the chair and was headed for the door.

    "I'll call Cutter and tell him to expect you in his office tomorrow or the next day," he said. He closed the door behind him.

    "Ohhhhh, Vera, your tit's so nice and firm!" Joyce said, still squeezing it. She felt her own. "I think mine are going to get soft pretty soon. Feel it. Tell me what you think."

    Vera looked into the innocent green eyes. "That's enough, Joyce," she said, unable to be angry with her. She started to get up.

    "Vera, don't go," Joyce pleaded, her voice small, needing. "If you go, I'm afraid Dan will come up and try to fuck me. Besides, Roger and Rainey are still busy."

    "Then they can get un-busy," Vera said.

    "Oh, please! Let Rainey have a little fun. She's going to get beaten tonight anyway. Let her have some fun first. Don't make her stop. Ohhhhh, come back, Vera, I'm feeling all fucky inside!"

    With no shame, no hesitation at all, she rolled onto her back and hooked her thumbs into her panties and rocked her legs back and shoved the skimpy yellow things off her body.

    The bed heaved and jiggled with her motions. She stretched and arched and looked at Vera with hooded eyes, parting her thighs, scissoring them closed again, willing and writhing in terrible heat.

    Vera stared at her. She couldn't help it. It was a display of heat she'd never seen before. There was another reason she stared-right between Joyce's thighs.

    Her pussy was bald.

    The lips were puffy and naked, smooth and sweet, like a baby's ready to be powdered with a soft puff.

    Joyce moaned and writhed and looked at the TV screen. One of the girls was licking the other's pussy again. Joyce cupped her crotch with her hand and drew her middle finger up between her bloated cuntlips, sliding it over her cut and moaning.

    "Ohhhhh, look at them, Vera. I've always wanted to try that with another girl let me do it to you. Please? Pretty please? You don't have to do it to me. Just lie back and close your eyes and let me do it. Ohhhhh, please?"


    CHAPTER TEN

    Vera sucked in her breath. She wished she weren't feeling the heavy thud of her pulse. She looked at the screen and watched the pussy jump and twitch when the tongue went aver the girl's clit. She watched Joyce's fingers begin to swirl over her bald pussy, masturbating it with no shame or embarrassment whatsoever.

    She saw the yearning expression in the soft, green eyes, and she heard herself moan from a far, hollow distance.

    Roger was fucking Rainey. Roger wouldn't be a damn bit of good to her tonight. Maybe never again. And he'd brought her to that plateau but not over it, leaving her jangled inside-bad enough to nearly come with Dancer's horrible cock in her cunt.

    Joyce was reaching towards her with one hand while masturbating with the other. Her knees were apart, and her pussy was humping up and down under the motions of the waterbed.

    The hand reached Vera's thigh. It was warm and mist against her skin. It smoothed up, higher and higher. Vera sucked in her breath, wanting to move, yet curious enough not to.

    She closed her eyes a moment. The hand was gentle against her. It moved to her hip, slid across the slick stuff of her panties, went to her cunt mound.

    The fingers squeezed gently, knowledgeably, not like a man's. They went down the nylon to her clitoral area, and they knew just what to do.

    "oh, God…" she whispered hollowly.

    She sank slowly to the bed. Onto her side, and then onto her back. The fingers were sure and good. They went inside her panties and pried the bloated, dampness of her pussylips apart. When they circled over her clit, she knew it was going to happen, and she just didn't care any more.

    Everything else had happened today. Why not this? Why not?

    "Ohhhh, Vera…" Joyce whispered.

    The girl was bending over her now, her round boobs dangling down from her chest. The pink nipples were jutting from the ends of them. They brushed warmly over Vera's thighs as Joyce gently tuned at her panties.

    Vera moaned. She felt her own fits shamelessly. The tug of nylon was insistent. She lifted her butt from the bed, and the panties railed over it and down her thighs and off her feet.

    Warm, gentle fingers smoothed up her inner thighs, reaching high, finally pressing against the sides of her puffed cuntlips, opening them.

    Her tissues sucked open with an audible sound, and she felt her whole cunt writhe inside and send another charge of slippery juice flooding to her pussy mouth.

    Warm breath bathed her cunt. Silky hair tickled her abdomen and inner thighs. And then full, warm, soft lips sought out the stiff button of her clit and sucked on it.

    "Ohhhhhhh, God!" Vera cried raggedly, her hips bucking up involuntarily.

    Joyce knew what she was doing. She did it better than any male could have. Her tongue swept through the sodden, quivering tissues, drilled gently into her pussy mouth, flicked her clit again and again, until her body was a jerking, writhing thing out of control.

    She knelt between Vera's widespread legs and buried her head between them. Her hands scooped under the tight buttcheeks and squeezed and fondled them, lifting Vera's crotch to her pretty mouth.

    Vera cried out again and again, her body aflame. Her eyes, swung in her head and paused at the picture on the screen a moment, where the same thing was happening in clear, sharp, colorful detail. It was like being able to. watch her own pussy shake and quiver and leak while Joyce sucked avidly at it.

    Joyce made her tongue go flat and broad. He held Vera's pussylips apart with the tips of her fingers, exposing the whole pink area of wet, slippery twat meat and the quivering hole of her cunt mouth.

    She placed her tongue against it all and lapped up, again and again, drinking up Vera's streaming juices, making Vera's hips buck up again and again.

    Her tongue tip drilled into the quivering hole. It slurped around the muscular mouth. It searched under Vera's crotch, probing and digging.

    "Mmmmmm… nnnnn!" Joyce moaned, licking and licking. "I want to lick it all, eat it all."

    She tipped Vera's hips up. She draped. the shaking thighs over, her shoulders, making Vera rock back on the small of her spine, and she licked down and down.

    "Oh; God!" Vera cried sharply, sucking in. her breath. "My asshole! You're licking my asshole!"

    Emotion swept through her and made her shudder from head to toe. She felt. her bung pulsate rapidly at the pressure of warm wetness against it.

    The tongue made a point and stabbed inside the light rubbery hole, and Vera bleated shamelessly, rubbing her tits, squeezing them as hard as she could.

    She was going to come now. There was no way possible to hold it back. The girl was driving her out of her skull. It was a cunt-sucking such as she'd never dreamed possible.

    "Fm coming!" she cried tightly. "Oh! Ohhhhh!"

    Joyce drilled her wet tongue into Vera's asshole and fucked it rapidly back and forth. She clamped her hand over Vera's pussy, rolling the stretching, trembling cut with one finger, fucking her thumb into the wet, slippery, shaking pussy hole at the same time.

    Vera felt as if her whole crotch was going to explode outward. The only thing holding her bottom together was the pressure inward from Joyce's tongue and fingers and covering hand.

    "YAAAAGH!" she cried throatily, feeling her mind spin.

    Her tits swelled in her hands. The nipples felt as if they were going to spurt something wet and warm and slippery that would trickle dawn the slopes of her tits and puddle on her chest.

    Her thighs clamped around Joyce's head like soft vises, and she felt her asshole and pussy bath open wide and then clamp down tightly on the tongue and fingers inside them.

    Her hips strained upward rigidly and stayed elevated, shuddering, shaking, spasming out the fierce orgasm.

    Everything had happened to her now that possibly could. All in the past week. An incredible week that wasn't quite real any more. She had been fucked by the biggest prick in the world had let her own son fuck her, sucking up his cum with her trembling pussy, wanting it and wanting it.

    And now, after being discovered by strangers fucking her son, she was spewing her slippery aunt juice into the mouth of another girl.

    What more could happen? What more?

    As if in answer, she was barely conscious of a shaft of light coming into the room as the door opened, then going away again when the door closed.

    She saw Max's figure over the bed. It swam and danced in her blurred vision. Handsome, fatherly Max, who had just saved her from being flicked to throbbing pain by an evil snake. Just the way Paul had saved her so long ago.

    "Paul…" she croaked to him.

    He was out of his clothes. He knelt on the bed. His cock was stiff and strong. He swept his hands over Joyce's upturned rump, felt her tits, kissed her mouth avidly.

    The girl moaned and put her hand to her pussy, her bald; hairless, innocent, little-girl pussy. She finger-tucked it vigorously, unable to contain the heat in her pretty body.

    "Did she like it?" Max asked softly.

    "Ohhhh, she loved it, Max. I loved it, too. I'm all fucky inside. Oh, flick me, Max! Fuck me before I make myself come!"

    Max gazed at Vera's open, draining cunt. She was aware that he was doing it. She didn't try to close her legs. She didn't care.

    He bent over her, positioning himself, holding his prick in his hand. He sank towards her. His cockhead touched her cuntlips and entered her pussy mouth.

    "Yes, yes!" Vera cried wildly, bucking up, making her pussy suck around his prick and pull it inside her hole. "Fuck me! Fuck me!"

    Max slid into her cunt. His prick went easily, almost frictionlessly. Vera bucked up and moaned and shuddered again. His cock felt good in there-big and solid. It was better to be fucked than to have your pussy sucked, because there was something to grip and spasm around.

    She fucked him wildly, her hips bucking and tossing. Her cunt was slippery and squishy, almost too wet

    She felt weight on her chest, softness against her thrusting tits. She looked in front of her, and she saw Joyce's thighs spread wide, her bald pussy open and pink and wet, her fingers fucking in and out of it and rolling over her erect clit.

    "Suck me now, Vera. Suck my pussy!" she said huskily.

    She cupped the back of Vera's head and lifted it. She hunched forward on Vera's chest, her full, ripe buttcheeks like warm pillows against her spiked fits.

    The aroma of wet pussy filled Vera's senses and made her mind spin. She stared at the pinkness, the freshness of the wet mint mouth sucking and pulsing in front of her eyes.

    The limit. This had to be the limit. The last thing that could happen to her.

    "Ohhhhh, God!" she moaned, her hips still fucking her snatch up and down Max's prick, as if they didn't belong to her any more and were bent only on their own satisfaction.

    Wet, hot meat, slippery with aromatic oils, pressed up against her mouth and nose and chin. That was the strangest part-her chin. She'd never surrounded her chin with oiled silk before. It felt good. She fucked her chin in and out of the pocket of wetness.

    An erect, throbbing nub prodded at her lips. She parted them and took it inside and knew that it was Joyce's cunt. The girl let out a thin scream of bliss and mashed lips and pussy together harder.

    Juice trickled down Vera's chin onto her neck. She felt it tickling there. Soft cunt flesh rocked and pulsed all around her face erotically. Her hips lifted and sucked the big prick deep into her shuddering twat.

    She didn't know if she was coming. It felt like orgasm, but orgasms didn't go on and on and on. Yet every nerve inside her body was screaming at high pitch as if it were one long continual climax.

    The prick fucked her, and the pussy washed her face, and she swallowed everything down, took it in her body, drew and sucked.

    "Max, I'm coming!" Joyce cried tightly. "Ohhhh, she's sucking me off real good! Fuck her, Max! Make her come when I come! You come, too, darling! Ohhhh!"

    Joyce pulled at the back of Vera's head and mashed her open, wet cunt against the tongue and lips and chin fucking her whole box.

    Her pussy spasmed and shuddered and sucked at Vera's face, and cunt juice drooled copiously from it. She lipped her head back and Heated and came violently, her bald, puffy cuntlips shaking and fluttering against Vera's face, between her lips, around her tongue.

    Vera couldn't stop herself. She wrapped her hands around the firm, ripe ass and buried her face into the oily wetness and gave as good as she had gotten.

    Her hips lifted at the same time, and her pussy shuddered around Max's big prick. She felt the shaft plunge deeply into her twat and buck with explosions of sperm.

    "God! God!" Max groaned, hosing his load into her cunt.

    Vera might have blacked out for a moment, she wasn't sure. But the next thing she knew, they were fucking wildly, Max and Joyce. His cock plunged in and out of her asshole and made her come. Then he flipped her over onto her back and flicked her pussy and made her come again.

    Vera lifted up and watched them groggily. The bed heaved and tossed. She wanted to join them, but they didn't even look at her, didn't invite her. They were through with her.

    She staggered from the bed. Max bellowed and shot his load deep into Joyce's bald cunt, kissed her wetly, then kept right on fucking her innocent little body.

    Vera took up her panties from the floor. She looked at them dumbly. She didn't want to put them on yet. Her pussy was still on fire.

    She watched the older man and younger girl flack and fuck. She put her hand to her pussy and rubbed it, watching them. She leaned back against the window sill and spread her thighs and masturbated.

    Her hand swirled over the wetness of her cunt. Her fingers slipped into her pussy and felt the big load of sperm draining from her hole. She slipped her fingers farther under her crotch and felt her asshole.

    It was slippery and sensitive. She probed at it with her fingertip, remembering the way Joyce's tongue had felt there, remembering the sight of her son's cock going in and out of Sally's asshole, of Max's cock fucking deeply into Joyce's butt.

    "Ohhhh, fuck my ass, Max," she whimpered.

    He didn't acknowledge her. Maybe she hadn't said it loudly enough. He seemed totally immersed with Joyce. She fucked her finger in and out of her asshole instead, rocking back, lifting one leg onto the chair seat to open her butt wider.

    They were about to come. She gasped and watched their movements quicken, heard their gasps.

    She shoved her finger deep in her ass and then masturbated her cut with her other hand. She tipped her head back against the window and came at the same time they did, moaning and gasping, feeling her whole body crush down impossibly on itself.

    Thorne's image came to her mind at the height of it. It startled her. He was watching her. She couldn't read his expression.

    "God, God!"

    What would he think of her now?"

    "Thorne… help me!" she cried softly, knowing she could sink no lower.


    CHAPTER ELEVEN

    "No!" Vera said stubbornly.

    She wrung her hands and paced back and forth. She looked through the living room to the lanai and went over and turned on the pool light with a quick snap. The inviting blueness made the house seem warmer, cozier, more rational and familiar.

    "No!" she said again, spinning around to look at Roger.

    He drank from a beer can and belched crudely. He looked impenetrably smug and satisfied with himself. "I still say we should sell the whole goddamn works. Not just Loon Key. Everything. He offered to buy it. Let's give him the headaches."

    "I won't do it. I won't let those two men drag the Hanson chain to the level of that fuck palace!"

    "Mommy, such language," Roger grinned.

    "They're fine motels. They have a good name, repeat customers, year after year. Hanson motels are their home away from home."

    "Turn off the bullshit, Mom," Roger said. "You sound like one of Dad's commercials. An operation like that can't miss. You charge 'em high for the room. Then extra for the porn movies over the tube instead of regular TV. You'll have more repeat customers than you can handle-young studs with money, instead of old codgers squeezing their nickels to get in a vacation to sunny Florida. We put in a percentage clause, and then Max gets all the work while we lie, back and spend the money. I'm going to vote for selling it to him."

    "Roger, you can't!"

    "I've got 30 percent, and you've got 30. That's a lot of cash, Mom!" He sucked his beer and looked at her. "Besides, if Max has 18, then all he and I have to do is dig up another 3 percent out of the employees, and there's nothing you or Bundt can say about it. That'll make 51, Mom, and 51 decides it. And I think out of all the employees we can find 3 percent, don't you?" He grinned at her with alarming coldness.

    He was right. They wouldn't have any trouble. And all that she and Paul had worked for would be.

    She'd done a lot of thinking since yesterday. She hadn't slept much at all last night. There was a cold eye floating above her bed, staring down at her, seeing her, seeing the things she'd done, the insanity of the past week. And now she felt shaky and sober, as if suffering from a hangover after a sexual drunk.

    She needed advice. She needed to talk to Thorne before deciding anything, just to get his opinion. Paul had regarded him highly-too highly, maybe, for Roger's good. But she trusted Thorne, too. She wasn't too sure about Jack Cutter. He hadn't told her half what she'd learned from Max and Dancer, and that wasn't right.

    The doorbell finally rang. Roger growled and carried his beer over to open it. "What the hell do you want around here?" he grated nastily. "See me during office hours, whiz kid."

    Vera jumped up from the couch. "Thorne!" she cried happily.

    She felt her pulse quicken as she looked at him standing in the doorway, taking in the clean cut of him, the squarish jaw, the wide chest, the thick pelt of dark hair, neat and trim.

    He looked at her with sharp, perceptive blue eyes, and for a quick moment, she felt as she had last night-visible, ashamed. How could she dare hope he would have anything to do with an incestuous slut like her?

    "Oh, Thorne…" she cried softly.

    Roger stuck out his arm, stopping him from coming into the house. "Hey, where the hell do you think you're going? I didn't say you could see my mother, did I?"

    Thorne looked at him, at his arm. "Vera, may I come into your house?" he asked.

    "Roger, stop being an ass!" Vera cried.

    Roger grinned and dropped his ann. "We went down to the Key yesterday, Bundt. That's real class. Way over your level of appreciation."

    Thorne ignored him. He looked at Vera. "I've taken a poll of the employees who own stock, Vera. Most of them are old-timers who started out with Paul, and they think that Loon Key operation is a blight on the good name. They want to get rid of it. I wanted to find out what you and Roger thought."

    "Fuck'em," Roger said.

    "What do you feel about it, Thorne?"

    "I agree with them. I'd go farther. I'd recommend you deal Sawyer straight out, fast."

    "Pretty damn assuming, aren't you, whiz kid?" Roger snarled. "You come sucking around here as if you were running the show still, tallying up votes and all that crap. Buddy, you're not running it now, and you can figure on being minus my 30 percent." He rocked on his toes and grinned cockily at Bundt.

    "Come to think of it, Bundt, who says your job is running around taking polls? You're supposed to be some kind of glorified bookkeeper. I want you taking polls, I'll tell you and see you're paid. Meanwhile, you can clean out your adding machine and get gone. You're fired as of right now."

    "Goddamn you, Roger!" Vera cried.

    Thorne looked at him tolerantly, a slight smirk on his face. "I think you're a little confused, Roger. You don't pay me. You didn't hire me, and you can't fire me. No common stockholder can do that. That's for the officers and board members to decide, and right now, you're neither."

    Roger balled his fists. "There's a way, Bundt, there's a way. Max will know the way."

    "That would be your first bad move, Roger, letting him in. He's slick. He promises gold and delivers mud. He'll peel the skin off your ass so fast you won't know it's gone for a week. That's his specialty, Roger. He's done it to eight companies already."

    "Why did Paul have anything to do with him, Thorne?" Vera asked. "I just don't comprehend it."

    Thorne sighed. "He needed money, Vera. I advised him against starting the Loon Key unit, but he wanted to build just one more before he retired. Costs went up. He got in a bind. Sawyer bought in. He looked honest, talked fine. Then he started making demands that Paul couldn't refuse. It's a long stow, Vera."

    "Retired?" she asked, her voice small.

    "His heart. He knew about it a year ago."

    She felt hollow inside. "Yes, his heart." God, why hadn't he told her anything?

    Thorne looked at Roger. "You don't like me, Roger, and I don't think much of you. But let's forget that. Let's forget things like honor and reputation and good name. Let's just talk money. You vote against Sawyer next week, and it'll pay off much more in the long run."

    "Crap," Roger laughed. "All crap. The whiz kid comes over and makes like he knows what he's talking about, like I don't. And that's the way it's always been. You and the old man made sure of that. Well, I'm up to here with it, Bundt. I'm taking over, me and Max, and the first thing I'm going to do is fire your ass out of my life forever!"

    Thorne shook his head sadly. "Roger, damn it, you just don't know what you're doing."

    "I don't even give a shit, Charlie!" he crowed. "If it fucks you up, I'm going to do it! You want to fight me, then you're on, you son of a bitch!"

    Vera was ready to belt him, to pummel him, to beat him senseless. For the first time, she had an appreciation of the frustration Paul had put up with for so many years.

    For the first time, she saw him clearly, just as clearly as she'd seen herself last night, and she knew there was no fine man hiding behind the boyish exterior. There was only a big emptiness, brattiness, a compulsion to ruin and spoil.

    She shuddered violently, remembering that she had let him fuck her. She had forgiven herself for bringing an animal like Dalton into their house to rape her. She had allowed him to take her to that evil motel, where every perversion she could think of befell her-and even twisted her emotions around to the point where she begged for more of it.

    "Oh, Thorne!" she cried suddenly, rushing to him, sobbing openly, clinging to his strong, steady frame. His arms came around her and held her tightly, and they felt good-so damn good!

    "Get away from my mother, you bastard," Roger grated.

    "Haven't you said enough for one night, Roger?"

    "Not near enough, buddy! You know what you're holding there? You know what kind of pussy you got against your prick there? Hot, man, hot! Lemme tell you how hot! Lemme tell you about reputation and honor and all that horseshit."

    "Roger!" Vera screamed, feeling herself going slightly hysterical.

    She didn't know what might have happened if the bell hadn't rung again. Thorne was holding her tightly. There was a reddish fringe about Roger when she stared at him. She watched him open the door. She saw Joyce and Rainey there. There were reddish fringes about them, too.

    "Hey, hey! Look at this!" Roger cackled. "It's a pair of lovelies! See what you're missing out on, Bundt? The fringe benefits Max gives out. Come on in, you beautiful girls!"

    Vera looked into Joyce's green eyes. They were mocking her. The pretty smile and the round tits and the pussy she knew was bald-they all mocked her. Rainey slipped gracefully into the house and cast doe eyes on Roger, then slid into his arms. They kissed hungrily, as if they were already alone.

    "Well, if it isn't Thorne!" Joyce cried, all bubbly innocence. "We didn't know you'd be here."

    "Now, I'll just bet you didn't," Thorne said levelly.

    Vera looked at Joyce. She felt as if she'd been hit with a hammer. That wasn't innocence bubbling through her! That was calculated cunning!

    Vera shook her head. Everything was coming so clear, so clear. And it was all happening at once. The clarity was frightening. All that yesterday-• every moment of it had been planned. They had used her and used her, just as they'd been using Roger and were going to use him again-trying to buy both of them with sex!

    "What do you want here?" Vera demanded.

    "Easy, Mom," Roger said, holding Rainey, feeling her lit. "These are my guests. You've got yours, I get mine."

    "Why are you looking so grumpy, honey?" Joyce said to Thorne. "You always look grumpy. Don't you get enough pussy? It's not my fault if you don't." She smiled sweetly at Vera. "I was hoping you wouldn't be busy, honey. Mmmm, I came over to see you again. Why don't you tell Mr. Grump to go home?"

    Vera shuddered slightly. "Thorne, take me away from here."

    Joyce gave an innocent giggle and switched her butt down the hail after Rainey and Roger. She'd done her damage. It was time for fun.

    Thorne led Vera onto the lanai. She shut off the lights, leaving them in near darkness. They sat on a glider that hung from a ceiling rafter. A boat slid soundlessly along the cut towards the bay, its running lights soft in the inky night.

    "You've gotten the treatment," Thorne said, holding her tightly.

    "Don't ask me, Thorne.

    "I don't have to, Vera. I already know."

    She looked through the dimness at him and felt her heart swell. It had happened to him, too. He knew. He forgave her. "Oh, Thorne!" she cried softly. "Hold me, kiss me! Tell me everything's going to be all right!"

    They slid together, their mouths searching and hungry. She was astonished by her abandon with him, and then she didn't care any more.

    She felt his hand come to her tit and fondle it, and her pulse raced. It wasn't like the past week. There was so much more. They didn't even have to talk, because each of them felt the same things.

    He knew he didn't have to play games, go slow. He angled her down on the glider, and she went willingly, hungrily, feeling her pussy already going slick and damp.

    "Ohhhh, Thorne…" she whispered, taking his sturdy body in her arms, making his weight crush her and hold her down so that she wouldn't fly apart.

    Thorne tried to lift up after a moment. "Honey, this is no good. They're in there. It'll make it cheap and tawdry."

    "No, darling-not cheap. Because it's with you. Don't you understand that? You make it right and good."

    "It's not only them, Vera. It's Paul, too. You haven't had enough time-"

    "I've had a year, Thorne. I expect you know that, too. And anyway, he's gone. It can't matter to him, Thorne. It only matters to us, and I need you desperately. Oh, darling, hold me and-and fuck me!"

    "Vera!" he gasped.

    She felt his cock stretch and fill. It pushed into the side of her hip. She reached for it and held it in her hand. It was as solid and good as the rest of him.

    "Vera, marry me-tomorrow, 'he gasped.

    She nearly laughed. Not cruelly. It just sounded too righteous, even for him. "You can fuck me, Thorne," she said, smiling impishly.

    "Oh, God, I want to. I've wanted to for a long long time, Vera. You know that. You know I love you. But it's more than that. We've got to save everything. We both owe it to him, you know that."

    "Oh, yes-yes!" she cried happily, flinging her arms around his neck, finding refuge in his strength, freedom from the worries and the decisions.

    Her leg stretched down the length of the glider. Her other one dangled over the edge. Her foot slid over the floor as the glider swung gently.

    She took his hand brazenly. She put it up under her dress and placed it over her pussy. She lifted her cunt up, tipping it, letting the warmth of his hand wash over her snatch.

    "Darling, fuck me, fuck met Don't make us wait any longer. We've-waited long enough, Thorne. Oh, if I hadn't been married to him, darling, you'd have had no rest at all, do you know that?"

    "Yes, I felt it. 'I knew it. I'm glad you didn't let us. You were right, Vera. It would have been dirty and cheap while he was still alive. God, God-your cunt's so hot!"

    "That's what Roger Said. Oh, Thorne. "Forget what Roger said. Forget whatever's happened to you, Vera. It doesn't matter. It's over. It isn't going to happen any mare. I won't let it,"

    "God, fuck me!" she cried in a strained whisper.

    She tossed her skirt to her waist, impatient with him. She lifted her rump from the cushioned glider and shoved her panties down and off.

    She passed her hand over her pussy and loved the look in his eyes as he stared at the youthful slimness of her body.

    "God…" he breathed softly.

    He didn't have to be urged any more. He unbuckled his pants and pushed them down. His prick was sturdy and stiff, solid, like all of him. He came over her, pressing against her.

    Vera wrapped her leg around his butt and pulled him to her. She lifted and searched with her pussy. She caught the head of his cock in her cunt mouth and let out a moan of joy.

    He pressed downward, doing it slowly, letting their first union be smooth and right and full of inch-by-inch awareness and sensation.

    "I love you, I love you!" she cried softly, clinging to him.

    "I love you, too, darling. Oh, Vera-wonderful! Soft and slick and warm and-just right!"

    "It's goad, Thorne. It isn't cheap!"

    "A million dollars. Pure gold. Not cheap, darling, not cheap."

    Her pussy spasmed and shook. It went frictionlessly slippery as her cunt oils seeped from her pussy wails and bathed his stiff prick, easing his way into her hole.

    He reached deep ane held his cock there. His balls were warm and furry in the crack of her ass. She loved it. She loved everything about it. Her pulse hammered violently, and she knew that fucking with him was much, much more than just the tactile thrill of prick in wet pussy.

    She felt a slight astonishment with the ease with which she could open herself to him. Not just her pussy. Her whole being. She had loved her husband. But Paul was barely cooled in his grave. Was she that fickle, that unprincipled?

    It wasn't quite that way. Thorne was himself, and yet he was an extension of Paul, too. She knew, deep down, that Paul would approve of this.

    If he had thought about his heart and the possibility that he might die, he would surely have thought about the man she would take up with next. And she knew he had, thought about Thorne as being the one.

    Yes, Paul would approve. Knowing that allowed her to open her pussy wide for him and to give herself to him wholly. Not just the part of herself she had given the others-the use of her cunt. But all her being.

    "Thorne… oh, Thorne!" she cried happily, clinging to him, loving his weight against her.

    Her pussy walls fluttered and squirmed. They sucked at his trick and drew it in so tightly he could barely fuck in and out of her cunt. When he did, the sensation was excruciating.

    "God, Vera…" he gasped.

    His hands moved over her body. They felt her tits. They smoothed down the naked sides of her hips and explored her thighs. They cupped under her buttcheeks as he lifted her pussy up around his prick.

    His lips came against hers. Their mouths opened, their tongues tangling and probing, tasting of each other. She ran her hands down his broad back, over his firm asscheeks, feeling them move as he pumped his hips and flicked his prick into her cunt.

    "God, I wish we were naked. I wish we were somewhere else. Oh, Thorne… darling, I'm going to come. We're flicking here on the glider like two teenagers, and I'm going to come, and I don't even care how many clothes are between us."

    "Vera… Vera…" he gasped, his prick bucking and surging stiffly inside her snatch.

    "Are you going to come, Thorne? Do you want me to wait? Darling, I love the way you fuck. Ohhhhh, if I'd known how beautifully you hack, I don't think I could have waited."

    She babbled on and on. It was a crazy-wonderful thing to do. It felt so good to be able to do it and know that it excited him. She could tell it did by the way his prick jerked and thudded in the depths of her streaming, shaking cunt.

    "Thorne?"

    "Darling, you don't have to wait for me!" he gasped.

    "Are you ready? Ohhhhh, are you ready?"

    "F me full, darling! Hose it into me! Fill my pussy with your sperm until it backs up and shoots all over us. God, I'm wanton, aren't I? Thorne… Ohbbhhhh, Thorne!" she wailed tightly.

    Her body lifted. Her hips strained upward. Her pussy mouth gobbled and sucked at the root of his prick. She felt suspended in air, three feet above the glider.

    It began to swing gently, adding to the sensation of flying that was overtaking her. She held her position rigidly, all her muscles tensed and waiting for the huge crush.

    It came. It made her shudder and vibrate. There was a high keening somewhere off in the distance. His lips mashed against hers, and it stopped.

    His prick bucked and danced at the back of her cunt. She felt warm pressuring, and she knew his cock was spurting into her. She felt him shudder strongly against her, and then the crush came.

    Her whole body wrenched violently. She bellowed throatily against his mouth. Very undignified. Very unlike a mature lady of thirty-eight.

    Her pussy drank and drank, not caring. Her tits spiked and swelled against his chest, not caring either. Her ass went rock hard in his hands, and her thighs squeezed tightly about his waist, no part of her caring.

    She stopped caring, too, and she bellowed again, clinging to him, shuddering as if she would never stop.

    They lay together for a long time, breathing heavily, clinging to each other.

    It had been good. Very good. She felt sane again. She felt right. His blast of sperm had been like a cleansing hose, washing the perversion and sailed crud out of her cunt, making it fresh and clean again, making her whole being that way.

    Everything would be all right now. She knew it would.


    CHAPTER TWELVE

    The sun outside her window was bright and warm. She heard a mockingbird singing for the first time in a week. She sat up in bed and let the sheet slip from her naked tits and looked out the window at the thick foliage in the yard.

    The bird was perched near a fire-red hibiscus blossom. It cupped its beak up and piped with clear tones, running scales, trying a little cardinal and oriole and warbler at the seine time, experimenting with the sounds, playing with them happily.

    Vera smiled broadly and stretched. her arms and body. She felt wonderful. She felt alive and renewed. She felt better than she had for-a year.

    She showered lazily, dressed slowly, choosing a white mini with a low neckline. A virginal color. She was hardly that. But she felt like it. She hummed to herself as she brushed her hair and made it shine in the sun.

    She went out of her room and down the hail and stopped up short. She looked at them, sitting there at the dining table over coffee, talking in low voices.

    Max got up from the table and nearly bowed. His eyes flicked over her appreciatively, a gesture to her beauty. He smiled handsomely, paternally.

    "Good morning, Vera," he said. "I just stopped by to have a chat with you and Roger, but I didn't want to disturb your sleep.

    She felt her spine stiffen warily. She couldn't help it. She looked at him oddly, aware that he had fucked her two days ago. She wondered why. She wondered why she had let him. He was appealing, but he wasn't that appealing to her. The episode seemed a hundred years ago, and that made her feel strange.

    "What do you want, Max?" she asked, aware of the curtness of her voice.

    "Well, I've already talked to Jack Cutter this morning, and he tells me you haven't been in yet." He smiled quickly. "There's no immediate rush, of course, but I would like to hear something before the meeting next week. I have commitments and schedules to meet, you know."

    He glanced at Roger, then back at her. "Roger tells me you're concerned over the image to your husband's chain the Loon Key unit will make. I'd like to take you down to the Key and have you talk to the residents there, just to see what they all think about it."

    "I don't think that's at all necessary, Max," she said. "I've pretty well made up my mind."

    "That's what Roger was telling me. I'd like you to be open-minded about it, Vera. Just this once. Just do me this one favor, and I won't bother you about it any more, all right?"

    "C'mon, Mom-be fair," Roger said.

    Vera sighed heavily. Maybe it would be best to keep him guessing. If he were as slick as Thorne said, he might think up something tough to fight if he knew he'd lost. Maybe he'd get to work on gathering up another 3 percent vote against her,

    "All right," she said finally.

    She made breakfast for herself and Roger. Max had more coffee. He was very amiable. He told good stories that were interesting and entertaining.

    On the way to Loon Key, he slid from anecdotes about fishing and boating to Thorne.

    "You know, there are two sides to everything, Vera. Thorne was against this unit from the start, but your husband went ahead with it. He was a wise businessman, your husband. Younger men just don't have the experience or foresight to see things we old-timers see. That's not a condemnation of Bundt, exactly-not that by itself."

    "What do you mean?" she asked, growing wary.

    "Well, there's a case to be made against him. Not just by me, you understand, but by others in the company. Peterson, Harmon-men like that. They say Bundt came up too fast, that he isolated Paul from what was really going on, that he gave advice that would make him look good but wasn't in the best interests of the company."

    "Hah!" Roger cackled. "I knew it! Big whiz kid!"

    "They say he's trying to gain control. They're afraid he'll even try to marry you to get it." Max shrugged. "That's what they say, Vera. They're a little afraid of his ambition. I think that's why he talks against me so hard. He knows I'll stop him-Roger and I," he added quickly, giving Roger a fatherly punch in the shoulder.

    Vera didn't respond. She felt an icy shiver go through her. He was lying, of course. Thorne wasn't like that. Was he? Marry me, Vera-tomorrow…

    She shivered again, and her breakfast turned to a strong mixture of bark and lead in her stomach.

    They crossed the 'humped, narrow, old bridge onto Loon Key and pulled off the highway at the first tourist shack, the weathered, wind-blown, decrepit crab shack where Nate Mackton lived.

    There were barnacled crab and lobster pots piled high, cracking in the sun. An old yellow dog lay in the shade, thumping up little puffs of dust with his tail. Nate turned a leathery, gnarled face toward them and spat into the dust and came over to see if they wanted some crab claws.

    The motel was the best damn thing ever happened to Loon Key. He wasn't the only one who said so. They all did. One after the other. It was as if Max had paid them off in advance. There was only one exception.

    Her name was Martha. She ran a sundries store, old and neat. She was nut brown from the sun, pushing seventy, scrawny through the face and shoulders but fat in the belly. She wore baggy green pants and a checkered shirt.

    "Paul Hanson," she said, her tone oddly soft. "Good man. Came in here regular to drink his tea all the time. Some foreign brand I had to import from Palm Beach-Burmese. Got two boxes left. Drank it by the gallon. His heart, you know. Had to quit coffee. We talked a lot while he drank his tea."

    Vera looked at the woman. She felt a sudden lump in her throat. This was the "other woman". The one Paul had confided in the past year. The one who'd heard all she should have heard, the one he'd forsaken her.

    She suddenly loved old Martha. There couldn't be any jealousy over this kindly soul. There could only be a feeling of inadequacy in that the woman had offered him more comfort than Vera could have given him-more understanding about the heavy decisions over the motel. Perhaps she had been the one to tell him to sign his stock over before he died. She wanted to ask. One day, she'd come back and talk to Martha and learn what had happened to Paul the past year-what had happened to him inside, the things he couldn't talk to his wife about any more.

    "The motel? I told him to burn it down. I came here forty years ago to get away from the damn things and all the people they bring. I don't want Loon Key to become a tourist trap. I want it to stay bare and raw, just the way it was made to be." She went on. Max slid a glance towards Vera and smirked. An old bird-watcher nut who was going senile, that's what he thought of her. And. so what did her opinion matter? In five years, she wouldn't be around any more anyway. A lost soul in the path of progress who cared more for pretty sunrises than money. A nut.

    Max drove across the street and down, parking under the motel canopy, out of the hot sun. "Well?" he asked, turning towards her. "One negative out of how many? And a screwball at that?"

    "Yes," Vera said, hiding the fact that she thought more of that one nut's opinion than all the money-hungry others.

    "I've got to go in a minute. This took longer than I thought it would, and I've got to tell a guy I'm going to be late for a meeting."

    "I'm going in, too," Roger said. "I gotta take a leak. You coming, Mom?"

    The sun was hot. She sighed and got out. Max went ahead of them. She took a critical look at the lobby this time. It. was attractive and cool. As a building, it wasn't ugly. But the meaning of it was.

    She heard them in the office; She went in. They were in a small room off the office. The door was marked with an Authorized Only sign.

    Max sat at a console, instructing Roger on something. There was a small TV screen centered at it. There were stacks of videotape canisters in ordered array on shelves and a large bank of numbered lever switches.

    "This is what Dancer rigged up," Max said, turning to her, smiling. "When someone registers with the movie option, and pays, of course, we flip the lever for his room, and his TV is cut into the circuit."

    "That's not all, Mom," Roger said excitedly. "Check this."

    Max started to stop him when he reached for a lever. Then he didn't. Vera felt a sickening premonition. Roger flipped the lever, and the small screen bloomed to life. She stared at it and sucked in her breath and felt her emotions spin.

    It was the interior of one of the rooms upstairs. The waterbed was there, the big chairs, the night tables with the control panel. But she wasn't looking at the peripheral images. Her eyes were fixed on the bed, on the unmistakable image of Thorne Bundt-her Thorne. He was lying on his back. He was naked. His head lolled back and forth, and moans came from a speaker below the small monitor.

    He wasn't alone. Joyce and Rainey were on the bed with him, and they were doing everything to him Joyce's inventive, cunning mind could dream up.

    Her bald pussy gleamed in the screen. She rubbed it while she fucked up and down along Thorne's sturdy, stiff cock, the same one that had been so wonderfully imbedded in her cunt last night, the one that had given her back a sense of meaning to life.

    While she watched, Rainey positioned herself so tat she could lick and suck at Joyce's cunt and the sliding prick. Her smooth, tight ass rounded over Thorne's face, blocking it out. She lowered her hips, spreading her dark-flirted cunt over his mouth. In a moment, she moaned with bliss and made small circles with her ass, and there was no doubt that he was drilling into her pussy, sucking her bloated, wet cuntlips for her.

    Vera stared. An icy hollowness yawned in the pit of her stomach. "No!" she cried wildly. "It's a trick! I don't believe it!" She looked for a sign of his being forced. She didn't see any. Max flipped the lever off, and the screen went dark. He stood up and took her arm.

    "Let's go upstairs and see if it's a trick, Vera, he said, grinning in a way that was suddenly not at all paternal.

    There was no resistance left in her. She stumbled on stiffened legs beside him as he guided her up the stairs and down the balcony. He talked on the way.

    "I don't think you realize what you just saw in there, Vera. I don't mean Bundt. I mean the potential.. Not only can we show movies to the warns, but we can look in on the rooms over the monitor."

    "And it makes movies on the videotape," Roger added, cackling over the genius of it all. "Not for blackmail exactly, Mom. Let's just say, for a little extra money, depending on the guest."

    She looked at her son. No. She looked at someone who had the same general appearance as her son. He was really a stranger.

    "Maybe not money, Roger," Max said. "Take Bundt, now. What do you suppose he'd pay to get hold of that tape? Co-operation? Stock votes in our favor?" He laughed with a victorious sound.

    They marched with funeral solemnity. It was fitting. Something had died-several things. Her trust in Thorne. Offering to marry her and then climbing onto the waterbed with both of them. Her hope to win out against the evil surrounding Max Sawyer had died, too. The life's work of a good man. It had all died with that one brief scene.

    They stopped in front of a room. She turned her head towards the clean ocean. The building cast a long shadow towards ii as the sun sank lower into the Gulf on the other side. Max forced her head around with his hand. She heard moans and sighs coming from the room. The image blurred in her mind before she could squeeze her eyes shut and stop looking at it. They were still flicking. And Thorne was straining his hips upward as he came into Joyce's sucking, gleaming cunt.

    Somewhere in the corner of her vision was Dancer, lurking evilly, thin-lipped and watchful, his eyes slitted with the pleasure of Thorne's degradation.

    Vera choked out a harsh sound. Max let her go. Roger took hold of her and led her into the next room, closing the door. He half pushed her onto the waterbed, then began unbuckling his pants. She stared at him, not even caring when his prick sprang up towards her, stiff and ready.

    "Watching them made me horny, Mom," he said, coming onto the bed.

    "Get away from me, Roger," she said. Her voice was hollow. There was no force in it. He grinned and reached behind her and unzipped her white mini.

    Yes, take it off Remove the virginal white. It's a sham. The whole rotten world is a sham. Take the money and run. If you don 't, some other slippery bastard wilt Friend, husband, lover, son-some bastard will, and you 'II get fucked anyway.

    Roger slipped her dress from her body. He laid her back and rolled her from buttcheek to buttcheek as he slid her panties over them and off her hips.

    His prick bumped against her outer thigh. He was breathing heavily, the sound frill of lust. She hadn't remembered his breathing that way before. That made sense. He wasn't the same any more. Max had changed him. Now he was going to change hen

    "God, you've got nice fits, Mom," he said. He took one into his mouth and sucked it.

    "I'm your pretty lady," she said hollowly.

    "Roger, don't."

    "You didn't say that the last time we were up here. You said, Roger, fuck me. Hey, what's the matter?"

    "Roger, you're a selfish, stupid bastard."

    His face pinched together slightly. "Don't call me a bastard, Mom. You sounded like him just now." "I'm beginning to think like him. About you." "Cut it out, Mom." "Go to hell, you bastard."

    "I said cut it out! Goddamn it, I don't have to tae that kind of shit from anybody any more, not even you! I've got it made now! I'm gonna be Vice President, Max said so. It's all in the bag, Mom. And he's giving me Rainey, too, slicing her away from Dancer just as soon as it's all over next week. Damn it, Mom, be happy!" he cried, shaking her by the shoulders, making her tits jiggle on her chest.

    "You poor dumb bastard," she said.

    "That's enough!" he cried.

    He put his hands under her ass and heaved. Vera rolled onto her stomach, her body tossing with the motions of the bed. She felt Roger climb over her back, felt his hands on her buttcheeks.

    "Oh, noooo," she moaned.

    He pried her asscheeks apart with his palms. She felt her bung pulse in and out. Something slippery and warm touched it, and then she felt his tongue licking up her deep crack, centering over the puckered hole, drilling into her brownie slightly, getting it wet and slick.

    Then he was climbing over her back again, and the spongy head of his cock was nosing between her cheeks. He slipped it down and flicked it quickly into her pussy, flattening against her, puffing in her ear.

    He drew it out, slick and glistening with her cunt juices, and he probed for her asshole with it. He got it caught in the tight bung. He pushed forward.

    "Bastard! Bastard!" she cried.

    He held her down with a hand in the middle of her back. There wasn't much will or strength in her anyway, and she didn't fight hard. He'd fucked her every other way. Why not a royal cornholing while he was at it? It would be the last time ever. The last time she'd have to look at his bastard's face across the breakfast table in her house ever again.

    Her asshole burned. It stretched and resisted. Her muscles quivered and strained, and sweat popped out in glimmering beads on her forehead. She didn't scream. She wouldn't give him the pleasure of hearing her plead, and beg and scream. She tried to feel excited. She wanted her asshole to open up for his bastard's cock so that he could flick her and shoot his stinking load and get it over with.

    But there was nothing there, no feeling. Only pain.

    He pushed and strained. He wormed his prick into her butt inch by burning inch. Her asshole was in flames, but she didn't let him know that. He finally sagged against her back, his prick imbedded fully in her bung.

    "God, what a tight fuck!" he said. "Mom, you're the best and tightest luck I've ever had, I swear you are. Feels terrific, doesn't it? Hey, aren't you glad it's my cock cherrying your ass instead of Dalton's?"

    He laughed shakily, his voice full of emotion. He withdrew slightly and fucked into her ass again. He started a rhythm that made the bed heave and toss and her ass flare open as if she wanted it.

    "Mom! Jesus, Mom! I'm going to come already!" he choked.

    "Good, good. Come in Mommy's ass, you little bastard."

    "Stop calling me that! Stop saying it!" he cried wildly.

    He banged his hips against her ass mercilessly, fucking her and fucking her. She whimpered finally, burying her face into the yielding bed. Her tits pushed into it and were cupped warmly by it. Her pussy ground against it, and her asshole burned and burned.

    Roger shouted in her ear. His cock exploded. Slippery jets of cum spurted up her bowels like a warm, white enema. Vera nearly cried with relief.


    CHAPTER THIRTEEN

    Roger kept fucking her. He finally withdrew and flipped her over and flicked her pussy. He came again, sperm boiling inside her box from his bucking prick.

    A voice came into the room. It was hollow and tiny. She thought her mind was playing tricks on her. She could still see Thorne and the girls, right there, over the foot of the bed. It was Thorne's moans.

    Then she realized slowly that the TV was on. And Max was in the edge of the picture this time, looking out of the screen at her and Roger. He moved away, over towards Thorne. There was a paper in his hand. He was bending down, talking to Thorne, telling him to sign it.

    Thorne's eyes rolled in his head, fixed, rolled again. He moved his shoulders and body in an unnatural way, as if he were ponderous and drugged. And then she saw that he was tied to the bed.

    "Thorne!" she cried at the screen.

    Roger fucked her, unheeding. Max got red-faced, yelling at Thorne. Dancer moved into view, lithe and ready. Max waved him away impatiently. The girls sat on the bed with their pussies open and watched.

    Vera shook her head. She didn't know what was happening, why she could see them. Was there a room-to-room hookup as well? An extra fee for the voyeur-more money? A way for them to watch the couples who were fucking while they watched the movies of other people fucking? While the person downstairs watched them all fucking on the monitor and made videotapes to show to other people?

    It was dizzying, frightening, the ultimate degradation of all that was good and sacred.

    "Sign, Bundt, and the tape's yours! Nobody gets to see it. Sign!"

    "Nooo," Thorne groaned, his head rocking groggily. He shook it, and his eyes were unfocused.

    Max held his head roughly. "Look up them, Bundt. See that? See what she's getting from her son? You want him to go on and on? Then sign!" Thorne looked groggily. His eyes railed. Then they seemed to fix on the image Vera and Roger made for all of them on the other screen.

    "God…" he groaned. His head fell back. He lifted if after a moment, shook it, and looked again.

    Roger was just screwing his hips against her, his butt going tight, his prick bucking. "Yaaaaagh!" he cried, blasting another load into his mother's sodden cunt. He puffed a moment, then withdrew from her pussy. He held her down and straddled her chest and moved towards her face. He held his prick out to her tips.

    "Now suck it, Mom," he said.

    "God…" Thorne moaned again, his voice thick and drugged.

    Max grinned. "Sign it over, Bundt, 'and I'll call him off."

    "All right… all right, I'll sign," he groaned. "Let me loose, Sawyer, I'll sign."

    Max stood erect. He grinned broadly. "Okay, kid, that's enough," he said to the screen.

    Roger didn't hear him. He prodded at his mother's lips with the sodden tip of his prick. Sperm leaked from it and smeared over her lips. She tasted the flavor that seeped between them into her mouth.

    "That's enough, Hanson!" Max said.

    "Get him off, Sawyer," Thorne groaned. "Off, or I don't sign. I'll fight. I'll fuck it up internally for you. No coperation from our people. You need that, Max. You need what I can deliver, in. loyalty from them. Get him off."

    "Hanson, that's enough, goddamn it!" Max roared.

    Roger glanced around, aware he was being talked to for the first time. He blinked. "Who says so?" he challenged. "I'm not finished yet. Mom's gonna suck my prick off first, and then I'll get off."

    "'Now listen, boy! You do what I tell you, sonny, or he won't sign. We can't have that. We need him to make things go smoothly down there."

    "Need him, hell!" Roger cried. "He's going out! You promised he was going out! What the fuck are you pulling, Max!"

    Max looked worried. He left the screen. Shadows played as he went through the door. Vera could hear him clumping down the balcony.

    "God, Roger!" she cried. "Did you hear him? Sonny-boy… You're going to be vice president in charge of licking his boots! He's not going to kick Thorne out He can't afford to! You've been taken, you silly, poor bastard!" She looked at his expression and laughed with a hysterical pitch. "Bastard! Bastard!" she goaded, whipping him up.

    She pushed at him. Everything had changed again. Thorne had been drugged and tied. He didn't sneak down for an orgy behind her back!

    Max came into the room. Roger's eyes were nearly aflame with fury. "You flicking, doublecrossing prick!" he shouted.

    Max talked fast and smoothly, trying to calm him. Vera glanced at the screen and held her breath. She saw Thorne struggling at his bonds through the drugs they'd given him. Rainey sat on the bed and watched him silently, giving no alarm. Dancer was in the corner of the room, over by the big chairs. He had his hand clamped over Joyce's mouth, His long prick was sticking out of his pants. She struggled with him fearfully, and then he threw her on the chair and began to fuck her.

    Vera remembered the first time. She remembered Max's growling threat at the mere suggestion of Dancer's fucking Joyce; But he was doing it now, while Max was out of the room.

    Max glanced up suddenly, saw what was happening, and blanched. "That weasel bastard, I'll kill him!" he roared. "He's fucking my daughter!"

    Max forgot all about Roger. He balled his fists and ran from the room. Vera stared at the screen, and Roger looked with her. It wasn't fucking. It was out-and-out rape, violent and painful. Joyce's green eyes bulged from her head as the long prick ran in and out of her bald pussy and the hand clamped tightly over her mouth.

    Vera noticed something else. The bed was empty. Thorne was loose. Max lurched onto it suddenly, heaving and tossing, swearing thickly, glancing back where the doorway was.

    Dancer whipped his head around and sprang to his feet like a cat, his long prick glistening and hard from Joyce's pussy, but everything else about him ready for lethal battle. Joyce wailed with agony, holding her pained pussy.

    Vera heard feet pounding down the runway. Max was trying to struggle up from the bed. Dancer didn't give him a chance to. He pounced like a cat.

    Rainey suddenly came into the picture, screaming and pulling at Dancer, knowing, perhaps, that if he killed Max, there would be no mercy ever for her at Dancer's hands.

    He snarled and tossed the slim girl aside, sending her spinning into the desk. She piled over it and lay on the top, writhing in agony of something broken.

    "The son of a bitch!" Roger squeaked. "He's hurt Rainey!"

    "Roger, let her go!" Vera cried, trying to hold him back.

    He slammed the door open and collided with Thorne. Thorne lost his balance and stumbled backward into the iron railing of the balcony. He teetered dangerously over the edge of it, then summoned enough equilibrium to come upright again.

    Vera rushed to him and clung to him. "Oh, God!" she cried. "Roger-he's going in there to fight with Dancer!"

    "C'mon," Thorne croaked, gabbing her arm' drunkenly, his legs not working quite right yet, his voice fizzed and thick, his eyes blurred and unfocused still. "Gotta get the tape…"

    "We've got to stop Roger!" she cried. "Thorne, Dancer will kill him! He's my son!"

    "Not any more, Vera. Not after what I saw."

    There was a scream at' agony from the room, high-pitched and throaty, unrecognizable. Ominous silence. Then Dancer leaped through the doorway, landing on braced feet, crouched, facing them.

    He wore his thin smile, more evil than ever before. His eyes were so slitted he looked blind. But he straightened and came toward them lithely, easily, with a cat's grace.

    "Back in the room, Bundt," he said.

    Thorne positioned Vera behind him. He edged backward, towards the stairs, facing Dancer. He stumbled several times. Dancer smirked, yet kept his distance, closing it slowly. "You're not getting the tape, Bundt." "The hell I'm not." "Thorne-let him have it!" Vera cried.

    He shook her off his arm and pushed her back, still facing Dancer. "No way, honey."

    "Hey, lady-your kid's hurt in there. You better go see to him." The grin was cunning. He moved closer, timing Thorne's movements for the right moment to attack. He was quick, but Thorne was powerful, and Dan Dancer was a man who had respect for physical power. But Thorne was still wobbly, and Dancer knew it.

    "Keep back, Dancer. I'll break your head open this time. You snuck up on me this morning before you drugged me. But I'm facing you now. You're going to have to come at me face to face, you slimy bastard."

    Dancer grinned constantly, his movements lithe, one step at a time. "He's bleeding something awful, lady. You'd really better see to him. I'll let you by. It's Bundt I'm after anyway, and not even him, if he's smart. Just the tape."

    "Thorne.

    "Don't move!" Thorne commanded, still edging backward towards the stairs. "He wants the tape to hold over me. He wants to take over from Max. He'll use it, Vera-even after he gets what he wants. Just because he's a slimy bastard."

    Thorne glanced at her for just an instant. It was her fault. He'd turned slightly to hold her back. Dancer sprang with a cobra's speed.

    Vera shrieked. Dancer's hands moved with lightning speed, chopping and punching at Thorne' s sturdy body viciously, inflicting cruel blows that nearly paralyzed him.

    Thorne's arms went wide and came around the slim body. He squeezed tightly. Dancer grunted with pain, and his slitted eyes went round. Thorne pushed, half stumbling, slamming into the wall behind him, sending Dancer's body hard against the low railing.

    It caught him in the middle of his back. His arms flailed wildly in the air. His foot slipped. He let out a scream and pinwheeled backward over the railing. The scream stopped with sickening abruptness. Vera held her hand to her mouth, unable to move. Thorne held his stomach and doubled over, going to his knees. He gagged wrenchingly, and his face went chalk-white and sweaty for a moment.

    Vera went to him. "Oh, Thorne!"

    He waved her feebly away. "Caught me a good one," he gasped. "Be all right in a minute."

    He crawled over to the railing and looked down. She looked with him. Dancer's body had an awkward sprawl, the bead tilted strangely on the cement, twisted way too far around on his neck.

    Thorne got to his feet. Vera helped him. They went back down the balcony to the room. Joyce was in her chair still. Max's body was draped over her lap. She hugged his head to her stomach and rocked silently. His eyes stared at the corner of the room, sightless and beginning to cloud.

    Roger held Rainey to hint Blood had streamed from his mouth and nose, but was clotting. Rainey whimpered with pain.

    "He broke her arm, Mom," he said plaintively. "Son of a bitch broke her arm. Bashed me in the face. Just kept on and on, punching Max; even after he screamed. Punching and punching…" He shook his head and looked green enough to be sick.

    Thorne hugged her lightly. He turned her around. They went out of the room, down the stairs finally. He headed towards the office, leaning on her far support.

    He found the, tape and set it on a counter. He held her and looked into her eyes. He sighed heavily. "I've got to show you something, Vera," he said. "Here's what I'd just found and was leaving from, when Dancer caught me from behind and zapped me and slipped me that needle."

    He took her to an alcove in the office. There was a small counter, holding a hotplate, a percolator, dirty coffee cups. There was liquid in one of them, old coffee. Dark-brown rings of evaporation circled the sides of the cup, and green-gray mold covered the surface. In another was a used tea bag, Burmese..

    She reached out for it. "Paul…" she whispered.

    Thorne stopped her. "Look in the bottom. White crystals, needle-shaped. I'm not a chemist, Vera, but they didn't precipitate from the tea. There was something else in that cup. The fact that there was no water in his lungs makes me sure of it. Honey, he was dead before he went into the ocean." "Murder? My God, Thorne! Paul? My Paul? Why? Why!"

    He shook his head. "This motel," he said darkly. "He didn't like it-what they were doing to it. He wanted out, but they wouldn't let him. You've seen how they operated. I think that's why he split his stock and signed it over. No clear majority that way. No one person to hold hostage and force a vote from.

    He sighed heavily again and put his arm around her. "Let's get out of here." He cracked a feeble grin and winced with pain. "I think the little bastard cracked a rib."

    It was three of them. Thorne lay on his back in her bed with his broad chest wrapped tightly. She took away the bed tray and put it on her dresser. She came back to the bed with a mischievous smile playing at her lips. He looked at her.

    "I feel silly as hell lying here like an invalid."

    "Shh!" she said softly. "You're not supposed to move around."

    He smiled at her. "Yeah. What a bitch."

    "There's nothing that says I can't move around for both of us, darling," she smiled, unbuttoning her robe. She slipped it from her shoulders, and it slid the length of her body and puddled softly on the floor. She stood naked and proud and let his eyes go over her body again and again.

    She came onto the bed and kissed his lips. She felt his prick stiffen under her hand, and she jacked it slowly.

    "You're going to kill me off," he rasped huskily.

    "That I am," she said.

    She kissed his jaw. She moved her lips to his neck, to his chest. She went lower, kissing his stomach. She knelt beside his hips and held his prick erect and bent over it. She kissed the tip of it with her soft lips. She parted them, then, and sucked the velvety head of his cock between them.

    "Vera!" he gasped. "Honey, you don't have to, Ohhhh,… don't, darling, don't."

    She glanced up at him without taking her mouth from his prick. She sucked on it. She used her tongue, feeling his cock throb in her mouth. She wasn't quite sure what to do. She'd never sucked a prick off before. All she could recall was what Sally had done to Roger. It seemed to be right. Thorne's prick swelled and bucked in her mouth, and he did a lot of groaning.

    "Honey-what are you doing!" he gasped.

    "Killing you off," she smiled.

    He laughed once and winced with pain. "Why, Vera-you don't have to do it that way. Ohhhhh, just spread your pussy and sit on my prick and let me fuck it up into you."

    "Huh-uh," she said, playing with him with her fingers. "It's the only cherry I've got left. I'm going to give it to you, darling. The way things have been going, I think I'd better do it fast."

    "Oh, it's all over, Vera-all over."

    "I know. That is. But we're just beginning, Thorn; you and I. Oh, I'm so happy!"

    "Mrs. Bundt," he said, testing the flavor of it on his lips. "Straddle my cock, Mrs. Bundt, and let me bunt your pussy around a little."

    "Later," she smiled.

    She sucked in her breath and looked at the fiery knob throbbing at her. She opened her mouth. She snuggled down beside his hip, slipping his prick between her lips again and drawing on it.

    He began to gasp after a moment, and she could feel the life and need pulsing through his prick. She bobbed her head. She did the best she could, with no practice.

    It was good enough. He put his hands on her head to push her away. She swept them off and bobbed up and down on his dick, making him flick her mouth.

    His hips lifted. She felt his cock pulse wildly, felt the big eye in his prickhead open and his warm, slippery sperm spurt into her mouth. He yelled. He pumped and pumped, and it was more than she could hold. She swallowed quickly, making room in her mouth for mare of his cum.

    It wasn't bad. She could get used to it. For him, she could get used to anything.

    "Darling, darling!" she gasped, snaking up his body, kissing his stomach, his bandage, his lips. His tongue twirled in her mouth, sharing his own flavor with her, just as she would kiss him after he had sucked her pussy.

    She spread her thighs wide. She slid down his body. Her pussy was already sucking and squeezing, her pelvis rocking, searching for the head of his prick.

    She found it. She captured it between her puffy pussylips. She sank down, sliding along his body, feeling his cock go up her cunt. She shuddered and clung to him and let a quick orgasm sweep through


  • CHAPTER ONE
  • CHAPTER TWO
  • CHAPTER THREE
  • CHAPTER FOUR
  • CHAPTER FIVE
  • CHAPTER SIX
  • CHAPTER SEVEN
  • CHAPTER EIGHT
  • CHAPTER NINE
  • CHAPTER TEN
  • CHAPTER ELEVEN
  • CHAPTER TWELVE
  • CHAPTER THIRTEEN
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