Chapter 2

That was when she caught something at the corner of her eye and turned to see her son standing in the connecting doorway between the rooms.

Lauralee rolled off the bed and fled for the bathroom, her legs flashing and her breasts bouncing, acutely conscious of her nakedness.

Robbie had seen her doing that with Bettina; she was sure of it. There was no way the boy could have missed what had been going on, and Lauralee's insides drew themselves into shameful knots. Her son had seen his mother making homosexual love to his new bride, and nothing could ever change that.

Shivering, here face flushed and her heart racing, she locked the door behind her and leaned against it, trying to regain some measure of control over her tumbling mind. There was simply no excuse for what she had done, for the things she had allowed to happen to her own body and that of the girl. She would never be able to explain to Robbie, and he would hate her forever. He might hate his wife, also;' there could be an annulment, or a divorce.

Lauralee trembled again. How would that look in the newspapers--son names own mother as correspondent in divorce action? Oh lord; she tangled her fingers together and squeezed them, catching a quick reflection of her tortured face in the bathroom mirror and looking away immediately.

Moving stiffly then, she fumbled for the towel rack, and wrapped a fluffy towel around her hips; it was more difficult to cover her breasts, but she managed to knot together enough material to hide them reasonably. Robbie had already seen her nude, but would never be subjected to such a spectacle again--if her ever even spoke to her again.

Faintly, she could hear voices in the bedroom, but they weren't loud, and might be the dialog from that damned television set. Maybe they had gone back to their own room to fight it out. She wondered how she could possibly face them now, especially Robbie, but knew she somehow had to. She couldn't just drive away and leave them here. It was going to be agony, Lauralee thought, utter agony.

Checking the coverings and wishing that the towels hid more of her thighs and that her breasts didn't push so against them, she twice reached for the doorknob and twice dropped her hand. At last, steeling herself to the inevitable, Lauralee twisted the knob and slowly opened the door.

They were sitting upon the bed, side by side, their heads together and whispering. Step by step, she made her feet move toward them, trying to put together some kind of apology. But all the words were weak and meaningless.

He looked around first, and Lauralee flinched. She saw light reflect from her son's pale brown hair, and caught the full impact of his black eyes. He sat erect, his slim body nicely shaped, boyishly molded, with good shoulders and a flat belly and narrow hips. Robbie's face was calm; she dropped her eyes. The boy was taking it well, but she was certain he would explode and call her all the filthy names she deserved.

Her lips were dry. "Robbie--I--please don't think--":

Coming off the bed, he said, "Mom!"

Startled, she saw that he was naked from head to foot. She saw the ebony fur of his sack, and recoiled from the image of her son's thing, the boy's penis that reached out long and slim and strong, its polished head glistening damply red. Lauralee took a backward step, and clung to the towels that disguised her own nudity.

"Mom," Robbie said again, and followed her. "Don't freak out, now. I saw it all, Mom--and it was something else. It was really great. Bettina has been telling me everything that happened between you two, and I think it's terrific."

Lauralee swallowed. "You think it's -- it's *what*?"

"Terrific," he repeated, so close now that the swollen knob of his young shaft was almost touching the fluffy towel around her waist. "I always know that Bettina was AC/DC--that she swings with chicks and guys, too. But I always figured you were too uptight for sex, any kind of sex. Then when I saw you going down on her, when I watched Bettina grinding her pussy into your face and saw the way you were digging it--I wished I could have seen it all, right from the beginning. As it was, I wanted to jack off."

"Robbie, you don't know what you're saying." Lauralee backed away and found her shoulders touching the wall. "I--I don't know what got into me, why I would do such awful things, but I can assure you it will never happen again. Now please, I think the best thing we can do is to get dressed and drive home, get out of this terrible motel.

"

From the bed, Bettina said, "No way."

And Robbie moved closer. Rigid with fright, Lauralee watched her son's hands lifting, saw them manipulate the knot that held the towels across her breasts. They fell away, and Lauralee shrank back trying to cover her tits with her hands. That was when the boy whipped the covering from her hips, and suddenly she was as naked as her son.

"You're really beautiful," he whispered. "If you only knew how beautiful you are to me. Oh Mom, Mom--ever since I was big enough to raise a hard-on, I've been trying to get a peep at your naked body, to catch just one glimpse of that lovely black-haired cunt. But as I grew up, I didn't think you'd be worth it, anyway. You were always so cold and aloof, and never went out with guys. But now--*now*, my cock is aching all over again."

Horrified, she crouched before him, before this suddenly strange male who was caressing his stiff prick with one hand, whose eyes were licking hotly all over her body and probing at the bushy mound she couldn't hide with her fingers.

"Robbie, you don't mean--you can't mean--"

He touched her breasts with warm fingertips, and she knew the velvet caress of his ballooned glans against the trembling skin of her belly. "Yeah, mom, I want to fuck you, and now I'm getting the chance."

Sucking in a deep and steadying breath, Lauralee suddenly wheeled away from him, and darted for the bed, for help from Bettina, for her clothing--for anything. Robbie was right behind her, and she tried to say something to the girl. Bettina clamped strong young hands around Lauralee's wrists and jerked her across the bed.

"Come on," Bettina hissed. "Fuck him. You know you want to."

"No--no--no!" Lauralee insisted, struggling to free herself.

Then she felt Robbie against her from behind, felt the warm touch of his body, the very hard length of her son's prick nestling into the cleft of her buttocks. She tried to roll away, to wiggle from beneath his weight. But he slid off only to take a from grip upon her ankles, and she knew terror as he pulled her legs apart.

"Don't--oh, don't do this," she begged. "Robbie--Bettina--thank what you're doing! Oh please, please--"

The girl's face was intent, the green eyes fixed upon h er. "Don't fight it, Lauralee. If you'll admit it, you want to be fucked by him as much as he want to put his meat to you."

"NO!" Lauralee fought as best she could, her long legs flailing, jerking at her trapped wrists and hissing between clenched teeth. "B--bettina! He's your husband, and my--my own son! You can't *help*him do this--Robbie, Robbie! It's rape--rape; you're trying to rape your mother, Robbie!"

"Yeah," he grunted from behind her. "I'll take that sweet pussy any way I have to get it. Just relax, Mom. Bettina--help me roll her over onto her back."

They wheeled her, whipped her over, and Lauralee was staring up into her son's face as he smiled down at her, as his knee slid between her thighs and forced them apart, as one hand pressed down upon her heaving belly. Robbie held his prick tightly in the other hand, and was steering the distended bulb toward her crotch. She could see a droplet of clear fluid shining upon the blunt red tip, and shuddered.