Chapter 1

Liz Rouelle would celebrate her forty second birthday in just a couple of months, but right now she felt ageless in a young sort of way. She always felt that way after a good hot driving shower that pinkened her easily pinkened skin and then, lifting her thick auburn hair out of her shower cap, letting it flow over her delicately arching neck, looking at her still youthful-looking reflection in the full length bathroom mirror. She was young. After all, this was the twentieth century when a woman didn't hit old age until... huh... Mae West hadn't hit it yet in her eighties!

Her skin was still taut over her high cheekbones, and she couldn't help but be proud of the dazzling green eyes gazing back at her, slanted slightly, thick lashed, blinking back at her with a growing amusement. It was exhilarating to be beautiful. She shuddered to think that she would ever be not beautiful! After drying her body thoroughly with a plush light blue towel, she examined it carefully. Her fully curving voluptuous body was every bit as firm and taut as a teenager's, she realized. Her tits were high-set and round, and her slender girlish waist expanded enticingly to round luscious hips. She had a flat smooth stomach and full-swelling thighs. Her calves were breathtakingly curved and tapered down to small wellformed ankles. And all over her skin was a slight sprinkling of freckles for a touch of sauciness, which actually embarrassed her. She was a very serious and meticulous woman and did not indulge in games. It was not that she couldn't have a good time or laugh at a joke, but there was a time and place for such things... after the more serious aspects of life were taken care of. She attributed her lasting beauty to a lifetime of moderation...

Yet, contemplating this, a look of pained bewilderment clouded her eyes and she let the long damp towel fall with a sigh of weary discouragement. What was life, after all, when you didn't know what you were being meticulous about or moderate for? She stepped closer to the mirror, gazing searchingly at the picture of perfection, and almost wished she were not so lovely. In that context, she might be able to make more sense of Tom's peculiarly indifferent attitude toward her, especially lately. It had been at least two weeks since they had last made love, which might be natural, and was certainly better than having to fight him off all the time the way she had to years ago. He had eventually learned moderation, but the moderation had dwindled lately into abstinence, and she didn't think she wanted it to go that far!

Suddenly, from the TV room, a high feminine squeal of laughter interrupted this depressing chain of thought. Liz put on her robe and went out into the hallway. Her son and his new bride were back from their honeymoon and visiting while they searched for an apartment. As she started by, Liz peeked into the TV room, and her green eyes narrowed and focused more sharply on the strange picture confronting her. Kevin's lean and muscular body was spread out on the couch in a pair of shorts. Liz's heart pounded unexpectedly. He looked so much like his father at about the same age. He had the same dark handsome looks, the curly dark hair, the deep brown eyes. He also had the same wild energy that she had fought so long to hold under reasonable control. Now this little girl he had married, nothing but a bleach blond, and as wild as Kevin had ever dreamed of being! It was a shame! After all of Liz's hard work and careful training, the new Natalie Rouelle threatened to undo it all!

Right now, the little blond, in a tight jersey and shorts that were at least two sizes too small for her, was trying to sit on Kevin's lap. Her lushly curving ass kept sliding down onto his pelvis, and his arms swooped out to grab her by the elbows and cast her off. But she laughed and bounced right back onto the thickly bulging protuberance now fully apparent straining against his shorts. Liz blushed and stepped away. For a minute she couldn't even catch her breath. It was strange to her to have a son and see him grow into manhood. It had been a challenge when he was younger, a challenge to make him into what she wished Tom had been, more conscientious and subdued. Now it was a heartbreak for her to see all her work being undone! She had done such a fine job. If only she had known he was getting married! If she could have stopped it before it was too late!

Liz went to the kitchen, running her fingers through her auburn hair. It was still a little damp. She ought to dry it. But she needed a cup of coffee at the moment. It was very unsettling, as flamboyant as Tom always had tried to be in the beginning, to have Natalie and Kevin pawing each other right in their own TV room. Liz wondered how long she was going to have to put up with it. She poured herself the largest mug full of coffee she had and started back to her bedroom where she intended to dry her hair. "Come on in, Mom," Kevin called as she started by the TV room door. "We're experimenting with brandy Alexanders today. Man, can I mix a mean one!"

His new wife giggled.

"No thanks. I think I had better wait until before dinner," Liz said.

"Well, come visit a little anyway," Natalie invited, smiling demurely. She was in the process of raising a chocolate looking drink to her full sensuous looks. She poked the drink toward Liz.

"To Mrs. Rouelle... senior!" she smiled.

Kevin spontaneously chortled, running his fingers playfully under his new wife's jersey, threatening but not touching the smoothly uptilting tits. His wife swatted him away, but Liz felt herself blush as she had earlier when watching their sex play through the open door and forced a laugh to conceal her embarrassment.

"I'm thinking of shish kabab for tonight. How does that sound to you?" she asked, trying to sound natural.

Kevin stared into his brandy Alexander for a moment, then lifted his eyes and studied the snug apple-curve of his mother's full firm tits that protruded against the robe tied tightly around her waist.

"Sounds as delicious as you look, Ma. Don't you think so, Nat?" Natalie had raised a hand to her mouth, suppressing laughter.

Liz Rouelle stiffened in her chair, uneasy and strangely frightened by the suggestive remarks by her son. He sounded exactly the way his father used to sound and with no respect for their relationship just as Tom never worried about such details. The sudden emergence of this salacious side to her son's personality was unfamiliar to her, at least on this scale. She was now reminded of moments off and on through the years, but most especially from his high school days, when she caught him looking at her with very adult glances. When she found those glances titillating her, she had scolded herself severely. Were such things normal? But they couldn't be! She had decided then that there was a side to her own personality that required suppression and had attended to it successfully. Or so she thought. Now she stood up from her chair and, looking down at the two of them, smoothed her robe uneasily, excused herself and went to her bedroom to change.

Before dinner, she fixed a pitcher of martinis. If the kids wanted to stick to brandy, they could fix their own, she decided. When the shish kebab was ready, she called them.

"I guess it's time for that drink we were talking about before dinner," she smiled, having regained her composure now.

"Sounds great, Ma. Do you think gin will upset my brandied innards?"

"Oh, you don't sound as though you had too much to drink." "We didn't, Ma," Natalie spoke up, using her husband's term for her mother-in-law. It unsettled Liz to have her do that, but it was something she would have to become accustomed to, naturally.

"We didn't have time," Kevin said, a meaningful grimace at his giggling wife. He shifted off the chair he had just sat on. "Oh, oh. What's a martini without olives?" he asked, striding to the refrigerator. Liz couldn't help admiring the sight of her son's long sinuous legs and the boyish roundness of his ass as he turned his back to Natalie and Liz. But that's a natural observation of a devoted mother, she told herself. After all, she had washed it and powered it years ago and fit it in trousers as it grew. Now, suddenly, it belonged to someone else. A terrible and unreasonable surge of the unfairness of it swept over her. Maybe she was just nervous, Liz abruptly thought, because Tom wasn't home to meet his new daughter-in-law. It would have been easier with him even with his odd detached behavior. Somehow Liz just didn't know what to say or think or feel. In fact, when she felt anything at all, all she could feel was the lonely loss of her son! But why was that a loss? He was right there with her. But he was not with her alone. There was the sex-kitten, Natalie, with her bleach blond hair and her rambunctious liveliness that ought to be charming the older woman. She should be good company. But just then the sex-kitten spoke on a subject that should have been out of bounds for a daughter-in-law, it seemed to Liz.

"Worried about Tom?" the girl asked.

"Mr. Rouelle is working late, I'm afraid," Liz answered coldly. The tone of the young girl's voice had definitely been a prying one. Liz was astounded at such brazenness, but it sort of went with the tight fitting shorts and jersey. The shorts seemed molded to the sensuous vee of her crotch and the gentle curve of her genital area. Everything was clearly evident from beneath the tight press of the cotton pants.

"I'm sorry," Natalie laughed at herself. "I get nudgy when Kevin is away, too. I miss him, but you understand." Natalie gave Liz a warm-eyed smile and drew her chair up closer to her and leaned across the dining room table, which was all set for dinner when the shish kebab would be ready. The young blond ran one of her fingers in an almost conscious gesture across the large smoothly uplifting rise of her tits, finally settling her hand on the curve of her lovely neck.

"Speaking woman to woman," Natalie said with a candid look, "as long as Kevin has been lost looking for the olives, there are ways of satisfying yourself without hurting yourself or your husband, you know."

"I... I don't know what you mean," Liz blurted out, feeling herself blush openly once again. "Tom is a very attentive husband, not unlike Kevin," she heard herself explaining. What an incredible thing to say, she realized after it was out. No wonder the younger girl's jaw dropped.

"Like Kevin?" the blond asked. There seemed to be a hint of amusement in her eyes. She was probably wondering how Kevin's mother would know about her son's sexual life.

"Of course, I really don't know how attentive Kevin is," the flustered mother then said, making matters worse, she could see.

"I am very attentive," Kevin said, reentering the dining room from the kitchen. "It's just that I couldn't find the damn things. Ma, your olives were in the meat drawer. How did that happen?"

How did that happen, she repeated to herself. She probably put them there the last time she had too many martinis waiting for a husband who never did come home that night! But she only smiled at Kevin.

But Liz's mind returned immediately to the intimate conversation that she and Natalie had started on. It had made her feel uncomfortable, but she must remember that the young people today were raised and educated in the school system to talk about things that their parents would not have dreamed of even thinking about! She took a large gulp from the martini in her hand and discovered to her surprise that she had finished all of it. Natalie was one of the liberal young, and though her modernity had irritated Liz, the older woman was frankly quite interested in hearing more. Before she had married Tom, she had given way to her sensual urges by massaging her nipples and touching herself down between her legs, but she had always felt terribly guilty afterwards. She had never heard any other woman openly admit that she had done it, either before or after marriage, and her own problems with Tom and the needs of her body that she had been made acutely aware of for some months now were too great for her to deny Natalie the opportunity to talk more about it. "Kevin, will you put the shish kebab on to broil, dear?" she asked her son, who had just finished plopping three large olives into his glass of martini. "Since there's no room for the martini in your glass," she teased, "Fill mine, and you can take the pitcher with you!"

"Slave driver," was all he said as he filled her glass and his own in between the olives, then left for the kitchen, sipping.

"Doesn't it bother Kevin if you, uh, try to satisfy yourself in... in any other way?" Liz could not keep herself from asking, leaning across the table and whispering.

"No, never," Natalie said brightly. "As a matter of fact, he thinks it's a great way!"

"Well, I'm glad he approves," Liz said weakly, feeling her legs shake with weakness, a strange sensation, as though she would collapse if she were standing up.

After yet another martini and the shish kebab, and even another martini although she knew that three was the absolute limit in any one night. Two was safer even. But tonight it took four to make her feel completely relaxed. By then she was sure she had been needlessly uneasy about Natalie earlier. She was sure that she, his mother, had retained her son's devotion and love, if not his sexual interests. Liz startled herself. Sexual interests? Why in God's name should she be concerned about his sexual interests? No, Liz was feeling a marvelous tingle of warmth and it had to be for the young couple.

She was suddenly ecstatic to think that they were happily married. Perhaps their open show of sensual appetite in the TV room, though inappropriate and inexcusable in Tom and Liz's youth, merely demonstrated the changing times and the fact that they were indeed happy.

They were all sitting in the living room having their after-dinner cocktails. The light was dim and relaxing. Liz was drinking too much, she tried to warn herself, but everything seemed so utterly right and pleasant. Then she could have sworn she heard Natalie say something that was impossible to believe.

"Kevin," the girl's soft voice interrupted a long silence. Liz noticed how pretty her voice was when she wasn't being energetic or giggly. "I think you have an absolutely gorgeous mother with that rich auburn hair that glows sparks of fire in the light. Look where the lamp hits it. You two would make a beautiful couple." What took the edge off the remark for Liz was that her consciousness seemed to travel back in time, and she was not only looking across at Tom over there, Tom, whom Kevin so completely resembled, but the remark seemed to be about her and Tom, though she knew that logically it was her son.

The young man pushed forward in his chair. He, too, had overindulged, first in brandy Alexanders and then in martinis. His hand darted to the plane of his little wife's knee, but his darkened face turned ominously toward his mother. "I can handle two women at once," he chuckled dreamily and sank back in something deeper than an alcoholic daze. "Imagine me, a blond and a redhead, one on each side!" he said. God! Liz thought. Was she hearing him correctly? Surely he didn't mean what he said! Perhaps Natalie had whispered something to him of her mother-in-law's frustrations and questions. She feared that she had allowed her confidence in the young girl to go too far. After all, her sexual frustrations were hardly their concern! How much of her loneliness had she expressed? She couldn't remember! In her preoccupation, she didn't notice Natalie's hand move from the upper part of Kevin's thigh and play over the again slightly rising bulge of his trousers. He had changed from the shorts but still hadn't put on a shirt. Now Liz saw the hand move when it slid again. And she saw too that Natalie had shifted her leg slightly and Kevin's hand slid across the girl's hip. At first, Liz had thought the hand on Kevin's loins might have been a casual slip, but it remained there, and as her eyes became accustomed to staring at it out of her alcoholic haze, she could see the fingers squeezing lightly at the bulge as though to provoke him into further hardness.

Liz lit a cigarette and pulled back in her chair. She could see a repetition of the afternoon's lewdly playful performance coming on, only this time it looked like the young couple were far more serious in their intentions. If she got up now and went somewhere, it would be only too obvious why she had left, or they would think so, anyway. Mother was frustrated! So she had to stand her ground. She would simply try to keep her eyes off them.

But their young bodies were like magnets, drawing themselves closer and closer and pulling her eyes to the movement of their thighs and hands as they touched each other. Despite her resolve, Liz discovered her own nipples hardening beneath the tightly stretching nylon of her brassiere, which pressed down modestly on her full smoothly rounded tits. She shifted in her chair, hoping the warming sensation would stop, but a softly tingling quiver of lust rippled lightly through her groin, and she sensed a dampness there that made her increasingly uncomfortable. God, it had to stop! Her son and his wife were completely oblivious to anything but themselves, and she knew that in a moment they would be engaged in something far more serious than petting in front of her. "I think I'll go make a pot of coffee," she announced lightly and stood up, albeit a little tipsily. She fluffed her auburn hair that had fallen loosely across her tits. She was feeling very seductive and a trifle self-pitying. "The coffee will be ready soon."

She looked down at Kevin and Natalie still embraced, their hands continuing to wander in sensuous little circles across one another's bodies. Their indifference to her seemed total, and she experienced the odd feeling of being a complete stranger in her own house. As she turned to leave, she glimpsed Kevin press his face against Natalie's cheek. The moon had risen over the houses across the street and was shining eerily through the windows behind them. Their faces were caught in the incandescent glow in front. Kevin's mouth moved closer to Natalie's moist full lips, and suddenly he kissed her. The wetly sucking sound of the girl receiving his tongue seemed to reverberate across the room. A kiss, innocent enough between the two newlyweds, Liz thought, should not be so hard for her to understand... or take! What was happening to her? She couldn't really tell whether she was frustrated or jealous. And if she was jealous, what was she jealous of, her son or what they had together! She set the electric percolator near the outlet by the table. But her mind wandered back to the pitcher of martinis, which was replenished and sitting in the refrigerator. Coffee was not good when her nerves were so on edge, she thought. What she really needed was another drink. If Tom followed his usual pattern of late, he would be home quite late, if at all, and she had to have something to dampen that insatiable burning that seemed to erupt inside her belly from time to time. It would also make her sleep and forget to wonder where he was and what he was really doing!

"Oh, stop it, Kevin, not here," she heard Natalie's voice ring out from the living room. "Don't touch me like that! It drives me crazy!"

Liz turned back from the refrigerator where she had started to go for the martini. It seemed to her they were being much too loud. She was irritated, and she felt her irritation turn to anger. She could even hear the springs of the couch creak as their bodies must have been shifting one on top of the other. And what was he doing to her that she should make such a half-hearted protest?

"Oh, not again, ooohhhhhh. You're tickling me," Natalie's voice cried out, deep panting groans accompanying her low guttural cries of pleasure. "Don't be so anxious, lover. Oh, no! Not again!"

Liz stopped at the doorway and looked in quietly. She could see Natalie seated on Kevin's lap, and in the poor lighting, it looked as though the girl's jersey had been pulled partially up and her shorts pulled partially down. Yes, there was no doubt about the fact that two white melon-shaped mounds of her titties were exposed, and she could see her son's hands running across them, his fingers circling the wide pink areolas and the stiffly pointed nipples. She pulled away from the door and they were still. Probably they had seen her and would stop this disgusting exhibition that belonged in a bedroom and perhaps not even there!