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

CHAPTER EIGHT

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hi, honey," she greeted him.

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

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

He chuckled. "I thought you would."

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

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

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

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

"I thought you were tired," he teased.

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

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

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

"What?" she asked breathlessly.

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

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