Chapter 3

Sitting at the kitchen table Monday morning, Tiffany picked at her scrambled eggs. Her fork scraped the plate as it brushed the remainder of the eggs toward the edge and then back into a small mound in the middle. She wondered why her mother always gave her so much to eat in the morning, preferring cold cereal or a slice of toast and jam. Putting as little egg as possible on the tip of the fork, Tiffany raised it to her mouth and scrunched her nose, begrudgingly locking her lips around the now cold food.

The teenager's eyes focused on her mother shifting from side to side as she busied herself at the sink. Her mother had looked away when they made eye contact. The young girl thought that odd, but her mother had been like that all day Sunday as well. Staring down at her food and frowning, Tiffany shoved the plate away.

"I'm leaving," she said, standing up and waiting for the command to finish her breakfast.

"Okay, dear, see you later."

Tiffany stared at her mother's back. She's really acting strange. But taking advantage of her mother's unusual behavior, she stormed out of the house to school.

Now that her daughter was gone, Mrs. Jenson wiped the tear off her cheek. Her mind was in turmoil. The other night she had acted like a slut. Feeling guilty, she had awoken her husband Sunday morning with a blow-job. The rare treat stunned the man, and the appreciative smile made Mrs. Jenson feel slightly better. She had always thought it degrading to perform oral sex, so even though her husband liked it she hadn't done it since early in their marriage. With her husband's cock in her mouth, memories of her sucking Jason's cock with passion and swallowing his semen spurred her to try to repeat that enthusiasm with her husband. But she couldn't. Instead, she straddled him and inserted his cock inside her. It hadn't been intentional, but she automatically compared the feeling of her husband's cock to Jason's larger one with disappointment. Bouncing up and down a few times, her husband grunted as he climaxed. He apologized for being so quick and blamed it on the blow-job. Mrs. Jenson simply smiled down at him and rolled off his softening cock, thinking, If you were a teenager it would stay hard.

All day Sunday and even this morning, Mrs. Jenson was consumed with guilt. She had cheated on her husband. She had cheated on her daughter. But worst of all, she had enjoyed it. Not now, after the fact, but during the sex. She still wanted to protect her daughter from making the same mistake her own sister had made, and racked her brain for another solution, but came up empty. She would make the sacrifice. She had to. But she promised herself not to enjoy the sex with Jason. She loved her husband too much for that.

Like an alcoholic on a binge, the day passed in a daze. The slamming of the front door and her daughter yelling, "I'm home," followed by heavy footsteps running up stairs, alerted Mrs. Jenson to the time. Shaking her head, she looked at her watch in disbelief.

Taking two steps at a time, Tiffany stormed down the stairs yelling, "Mom, whatcha have for snack?" She jumped the last three stairs, bounced once, and stood still, her ears perked. "Mom? Mom, you here?" Tiffany went into the kitchen and then wandered around the house, finally shrugging her shoulders. She's losing it. Senility has set in.

Mrs. Jenson was uncharacteristically driving faster than the speed limit. It seemed like in no time she was ringing Jason's doorbell. She waited and waited, and then pounded on the door with her fist and then rang the doorbell several times in succession. Stepping off the porch, she walked on the lawn and leaned into the window, cupping her hands on either side of her face, her nose flattened against the glass. Her eyes glanced back and forth, searching the dark house.

What the hell am I doing? she thought. With her heart beating rapidly, Mrs. Jenson anxiously looked over her shoulder and then spun around. Feeling like every window had a nosy neighbor peering behind it, she hurried to her car and drove home.

As she climbed the steps to the upper floor, loud music blasted from behind Tiffany's closed door. Normally she'd burst in and demand that Tiffany lower it, but she continued to her own bedroom. Locking the door behind her, Mrs. Jenson practically ripped her slacks and panties off.

Diving onto the bed, one hand snaked under her body between her legs while she was still bouncing on the mattress. Cupping her pussy, Mrs. Jenson humped her hand with a frantic pace. Her moans would not be heard over the blaring music, but she reached up and pulled a pillow to her anyway, stuffing one corner into her mouth. A finger slipped into her pussy, but she craved more as her pelvis continued to grind her burning cunt into her hand. Another finger slipped inside next to the first without effort, and immediately both fingers were soaked. Oh, Jason, fuck me! her mind screamed as her body convulsed in a massive orgasm.

"Where were you yesterday?!"

The shouting startled Jason who pulled the phone away from his ear, and then cautiously replaced it. "Who is this?"

"Tiffany's mother!"

"Mrs. Jenson? Wh-What do you mean? What are you--?"

"After school! Where were you after school?!"

"Yesterday? I, um, had practice. Um, basketball practice. Why?"

Taking a few deep breaths to control her shaking body, Mrs. Jenson said more softly, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Is there something wrong? Did you need something?"

Mrs. Jenson thought, I needed your big cock. I wanted you to fuck me, but she said into the telephone, "No, Jason, I just got worried when you weren't home."

"You were here?"

"Yes, I thought you'd need me. You know, what we agreed to."

After a long silence, Jason said, "I'm sorry I wasn't home. After practice I jerked off thinking about..."

Jason's voice trailed off and Mrs. Jenson pressed the phone to her ear -- hearing only silence -- waiting. She finally said, "You were thinking about Tiffany." Her voice was low and showing the hurt.

"No! I swear I wasn't!"

"Then who were you... ?" After a pause, Mrs. Jenson said softly, "Was it me? Were you thinking about me when you jerked off?"

The response was so faint it could barely be heard. "Yes."

"I..." Mrs. Jenson caught herself before she confessed to masturbating thinking about Jason and quickly said, "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."