Chapter 3

Pamela expected to have a bad dream that night but didn’t. The most vivid and emotional one was about a man in bed with her and Adeline. He gave them love equally, while respecting the younger woman’s limitations. Pamela woke up and thanked the gods that the man didn’t look like Jurgen. If anything the dream man had looked like a white Michael.

When her daughter came to the table, she kept scratching her crotch.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” Pamela worried.

“It itches bad today.”

“Are you washing carefully?”

“Yes, Momma, right before I go to bed, like you do. I use soap every time.” That had been drilled into Adeline’s routine.

Maybe she was washing her genitals too often! Maybe something else was wrong. Pamela asked her daughter for permission to examine the area.

The adult child’s vulva was red and inflamed. Pamela called a gig car and took her to a clinic.

The diagnosis was an infection. The doctor wrote a prescription for antibiotics to be taken twice a day for twelve days. He gave her a booster shot against a variety of ailments and a cream to stop the itch. He also asked Adeline which direction she wiped her bottom. She answered the sanitary direction - anus to tailbone but not using those words.

The clinic’s clerk charged them eleven hundred dollars!

Pamela bought a can of bug spray before returning home on the bus with her daughter.

“Will you be working tonight?” Her boss texted.

“Yes.” Pamela couldn’t not work after an expense like that!

That evening, she walked quickly to work, bug spray in one hand, an umbrella in the other.

The cloud of bugs seemed half of what it had been the evening before. A thin, murder of crows chased after it. A good sign from nature.

When she arrived at work, Michael shook his head. “It was those fucking cockroaches, yesterday, right?” He had seen their cloud from a distance. They apparently bypassed the side street which led to Show Her.

“Fuckers!” Pamela shouted, grateful to know she had company in disgust. The creepy-crawlies weren’t just her nightmare.

He echoed her. “FUCKERS!!!” A howl at the sky.

Pamela drank a little too much that night, a hazard of her role as good company for customers. It was easier to encouraging them to buy drinks when she drank. At the end of her six hour shift, her boss suggested taking a gig ride home. “I’m not that drunk, Dale.”

She puked on the second bus taking her home. “Sorry.” A hazard of night buses. She moved to another seat.

Pamela found Adeline in her room again, no hugs but no murmurs of sex either. Her door was slightly open. Her amazing child sleeping peacefully with her covers askew. Pamela had learned over a long period of time, not to treat her daughter like a child. If Adeline got too cold, she’d wake up and adjust her blankets. It’s not like their home was on the arctic circle. Besides, Pamela didn’t like to intrude into her adult daughter’s personal place.

Weariness and inebriation dragged on Pamela. She showered quickly and went to bed.

She couldn’t sleep. The woman lay under her covers, staring at the popcorn ceiling. Her limbs were exhausted and her head was spinning. Yet her body refused to power down for the night. There was an odd smell in the air, not strong but it was nasty. It reminded her of the roaches. She promised herself to chase after the one that got away, in the morning.

There was something else. She was horny but too tired to fetch her dildo from where her daughter couldn’t access it - in the small, closet safe. She had considered buying one for Adeline. Intellectually, she knew it was a perfectly moral thing to do for her daughter. Her heart felt that would be going too far.

Pamela used the last of her strength to masturbate with her fingers. It felt good. It felt very good. Then she saw the roach hiding in the corner of the room’s ceiling!

Suddenly, a terrific orgasm swept her senses! She cried out and her body lurched under the covers. It was an incredible cum!

Only after stars had fled her peripheral vision and the intense pleasure had faded, did she look anxiously for the horrible insect. It was gone, probably startled by her outcry.

“Momma?” Her daughter knocked.

“Did I wake you, Adeline?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, Honey.”

“You okay?”

“I am, Dear. Do you want to sleep in my bed?”

“No. I’m okay. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Pamela blinked. Very okay. She fell quickly asleep upon hearing her daughter’s door shut. Fear of the roach dissipated. She had lived with it for one day. Tomorrow, she would hunt it down and poison the shit out of it.

She awoke feeling very refreshed in the ‘morning’, an hour before noon when her alarm would ring. Feeling lazy she turned on light music but made a quick scan of the heavily curtained room before closing her eyes and touching herself. The faint, sour odor from last night was still present, but she hadn’t sighted the roach. It was a luxurious moment overall.

Her body relaxed into self-pleasuring. Pamela took her time. Her eyes opened every now and then to enjoy rays of sunlight filtering through minute gaps between the bedroom window’s blackout curtains. The third time it happened, she noticed a scurrying on a lampshade four feet away and two feet above the nightstand supporting the lamp. She and the toy, race car sized roach stilled, eyes locked on each other.

Pamela had put the roach spray on a top cupboard in the kitchen. The cupboard door sported a skull sticker with the word “POISON.” Adeline knew what that meant. Pamela thought if she crawled slowly out of bed and came back with the spray can, the disgusting thing might still be visible in the room. It probably shied away from light, so the curtains were her ally, as long as she didn’t startle it.

Her languorous muscles proved to be the roach’s ally. Her warmed up pussy wished her hand would resume pleasuring it. Playing with her nipples were also requested. If the damned thing moved closer, they might reconsider. For now it was likely more afraid of her than she was of it.

That wasn’t the point, Pamela’s mind asserted. It needed to die. The rest of her body had no argument against killing it, but why ruin a perfect moment because of one nasty roach that was likely to flee from a noise or suddenly motion?

Her mind could accept that much. Why let hatred for a roach dictate her actions? She would be stronger to deal with it on her own terms. Pamela grinned wickedly, keeping her eyes locked on the quite large bug. Her lower hand slowly fingered her clitoris while her upper hand rubbed its thumb across her right breast’s turgid nipple. “Fucker.” She whispered defiantly.

It remained motionless. Even its three inch long antennae ceased waving. It was the perfect voyeur for the woman in her bed. It acted mesmerized by her selfish performance.

At one point, during her submission to lust, Pamela stuck out her tongue at the creature. She was nearing another joyful spasm. They were happening faster and faster. The incredibly aroused woman struggled to sustain the languid movement of her fingers. “OOH- Mmmmm.” She closed her eyes to fully enjoy the not so small orgasm.

When she opened them again, she imagined how the ‘roach’s’ compound-lensed eyes perceived what it was ogling. Was it experiencing her erotic effort like some disco burlesque? Finally, Pamela reached such a height of arousal, she couldn’t hold back the urgency to cum hard! She pushed fingers deep into her slippery, pulsing cunt and mashed her wriggling thumb against her throbbing clit! Her upper hand pinched and pulled at a rubbery tit tip.

“Oh - gods ... YEAH-!” She groaned, suddenly fucking herself frantically, wishing she had crawled out and fetched her dildo!

“AAAAA!!! OOOOH!!” She gushed. Her groin lurched! The roach took flight and zoomed past her face! Its six inch wingspan buzzed loudly. The unexpected attack startled Pamela to the core, but incredibly the burst of fear it ignited, boosted her flowering climax. She yelled from intense orgasmic shudders alongside no little fear. “I’LL GET YOU!” She promised.

Her body shook and shook. She’d never experienced so many orgasms, nor the intensity of her last one.

“Damn bug.” She lay panting, out of breath. Pleasure rocked through her senses, like warm waves in the best bubble bath. They lingered until there was a knock at the door.

“Momma?”

“Oh, Adeline. Did I scare you?”

There was a pause. “No.” That actually made sense to the mother. Adeline was quite capable of associating her mother’s orgasmic outbursts with her own.

“What do you need?”

“I’m hungry.”

Pamela had to wriggle up the bed and grope for her phone which lay under the roach’s shaded lamp. For some reason, that’s how she thought of the thrifted lamp, as the bug’s seat in her room. Before she woke her phone, it’s alarm rang and buzzed in her hand.

Startled, she dropped it. It landed with a bounce on her bed. It was time to get up. “Adeline, you can eat a granola bar. I need to dress before I can make a better breakfast for us.” She also needed to wipe a wet cloth all around her soaked groin.

Half an hour later, both women ate contentedly at the kitchen table. “Has the itching gone away?”

“Yes.” Adeline ate slower after reassuring her mother. Pamela was sharp to notice. “Is there something else you should be telling me?”

Her daughter set down her fork and knife. She pouted slightly. “I got my period.”

“Oh. I’ll buy more sanitary napkins today.” It also meant that Pamela would soon menstruate. The two women had been in sync for years. It was strange that her daughter had hesitated to inform her. “How badly does it hurt?”

The younger woman blurted. “It’s okay, but I made a mess on Bright Eyes!” She started crying.

The stuffed opossum, Pamela deduced. But the other side of the story was, her daughter was probably masturbating with her stuffed animal. “We can wash her, Honey.” She consoled Adeline. She considered that its fake fur might be stained after washing it, but it would be clean.

Pamela also considered the toy may have infected her daughter’s genitals. Maybe she should give her daughter a dildo which was much easier to keep clean.

Her daughter stopped weeping. “Really? She can have a bath?”

“No.” Pamela always told her daughter about the reality of things in a way that the adult girl could understand. “Bright Eyes isn’t like us. She wouldn’t get clean enough in a people bath.

“Just give me your stuffed opossum, and I’ll take care of it.”

Adeline considered this for several seconds. “Oh. Okay. I’ll bring it out after breakfast.”

“Sure.” Problem handled.

In the afternoon, after escorting her daughter to work, Pamela examined the bloody toy. She was pleased to see that blood hadn’t soaked in. The fur on it’s back was only red on the ends of each hair. She ran it through the wash as directed by its tag.

For the rest of the afternoon, instead of keeping up with cleaning, she hunted through their apartment, spray can in hand. “Where are you, big fucker?” The only room she didn’t check was Adeline’s. She had decided long ago to respect her daughter’s one place of privacy. Maybe the bug was in there or maybe not. Only when she could ask Adeline’s permission to enter, would she go in. Unless it was an emergency of course.

No luck finding the bug.

Pamela did take her dildo out of the safe and put it in her purse. She put the spray can in a separate bag and tied its handles to the purse. She also brought her umbrella for full protection. Next time, she’d check her hair more carefully if assaulted by the swarm.

Instead of dodging sectoids while walking to work, Pamela was nearly struck by a crow! The murder had tripled, and they seemed frantic to eat the intruders in their habitat. Perhaps sectoids were extra delicious to them. She didn’t see Jurgen at all.

“Crows.” Michael grinned at her from the club entrance.

“Crows!” Pamela laughed. She knew better than to get drunk that night. And she did not use her dildo. Just wasn’t feeling it - until she returned home.

“Hi, Momma.” Adeline hugged her in the apartment doorway, then she ambled back to her room and shut the door. Pamela wasn’t feeling particularly tired. She felt a little abandoned by her daughter, but it was rare for them to hang out that late at night - which she’d hoped for. Her daughter had plenty of time for sleeping. A hour or two, watching a show together, wouldn’t tax Adeline’s sleep requirements.