"A mother_s forbidden passion" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jenkins Mary)

CHAPTER SIX

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Eight o'clock."

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

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

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

"I guess so," he replied unenthusiastically.

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

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

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

Ken didn't come out of his study all day, at least not to Bette's knowledge, and when she prepared supper and knocked on the door, he told her in a still weary voice that he was going to keep on working. The tone of his voice, his obvious guilt at what he had done yesterday with Debbie, filled the lovely blonde woman with more doubts about her plan. Suppose Debbie followed the note and Ken rejected her. Suppose his repentance was so deeply rooted that he refused to have anything more to do with the black-haired little vixen? Suppose… Stop it, stop it! she snapped at herself. Ken is a man, isn't he, and Debbie is the kind of bitch that won't be denied. Even if he denies writing the note, she won't be deterred. I know her kind too well. Everything is going to work out, I know it it has to work out, it just has to!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sure, Mom."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well okay," Tony relented.

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

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

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

"Mom!"

"Please, Tony dear, please?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ken frowned. "What note?"

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

"No no, I don't."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"N-no, I… I…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oooohhh!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And suddenly, without warning, he did cum!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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