Chapter 4

"Now that's your Dad has left for work, I want us to have a little talk," she said as she sat on the opposite end of the sofa from Trent who took a gulp of soda and looked very much at ease.

"Sure, Marsha. Dad said you wanted to talk with me."

"What happened the other night at the drive-in was..."

"Hot!" he grinned broadly. "Really hot! You've got one hell of a body, Marsha."

"Wait a minute. That's what I want to talk about -- er, not my body, but what happened."

"Hey, no need to get upset. We made a bet. You lost. You paid off. Simple as that."

"Is it? Is it just as simple as that?" she asked.

"Of course. I gotta tell you, though, you are one hot lady!"

"But don't you see? This has got to stop. I'm older than you. I'm married. I'm married to your father for god's sake."

"So?"

"You can't just put the moves on me like that."

"Why not? You loved it -- every minute of it."

Marsha was flustered. "I ... I admit I let things go too far."

"Come on, Marsha, say you loved it, because you know you did."

"No ... that is, well, it was..."

"Come on, Marsha."

"It doesn't matter whether it was good or not..."

"Oh, I think it does because if you hadn't enjoyed it you would have written it off and we wouldn't be having this little discussion right now."

"That's ... not true."

"Of course it is. You not only let me feel you up, you came, Marsha. You CAME!"

Marsha was getting more frustrated by the moment. She had never had to handle a teenager before, especially one so outspoken or so experienced in sex.

"I told you, I admit I let things..."

"Oh come on, Marsha. Once my finger went inside you, you couldn't get enough. You humped it like a snake."

"Trent! Stop this. Right now -- or I'll tell your father!"

"So what? He knows what went on. He saw you humping my finger like a cowgirl on a Brahma bull. Besides, he was in on it, remember?"

"No he wasn't. He said you had told him you simply wanted to talk -- to get to know me better."

"Is that what he said?" snickered the boy. "Well, you've got to admit we did get to know each other. The thing is, I can't wait to get to know you even better."

"That isn't going to happen! Your father said..."

"Dad says lots of things. Whatever you want to hear."

"That's not true. He..."

"Look, Marsha. If you haven't figured this out yet, let me clue you in. Dad likes 'em young. Have you noticed perhaps that he's cooled off towards you considerably now that the honeymoon's over? That's because despite dressing you like a little girl, when the clothes come off you're all woman. Now I can appreciate that, but for Dad it's a big turnoff."

"No -- that is -- I know he has a fascination with..."

"Fascination? So that's what you're calling it. Well, all I can tell you is it's going to get worse. He's going to pay less and less attention to you and more and more to little girls until..." he paused.

"Until what?" she demanded.

"Until it won't be you in his bed any more."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Think so? What do you think broke up his marriage with Mom?"

"He told me they drifted apart."

"Yeah, they drifted apart all right, after she caught him on the internet trying to set up a date with a fourteen year old."

"You're lying!"

"Am I? Want to make a bet? Call Mom. If she's honest, she'll tell you. And it didn't happen just once."

Marsha felt as if she had just been punched in the stomach.

"Oh, no, young man! You set me up once. I won't let you..."

"Okay, if you don't trust Mom, then how about this. I bet you that if Dad is given the chance he'll watch videos of little girls doing it all night." "You're crazy! Why would you say such a thing?"

"Because it's true. If you're so sure I'm crazy and making this up, then bet me!"

"Another one of your bets? No thank you."

"What's the matter, Marsha? Don't trust your new husband?"

"Of course, I trust him!"

"Then bet me. Tell you what. I've got one of Dad's favorite videos in my backpack. Mom found it hidden in the basement and I told her I'd throw it away, but I had a hunch it might come in handy. You and I will pretend to leave for ... say the movies, then sneak back after an hour or so. If Dad isn't watching that video, I'll do whatever you want me to for the rest of the summer: cut grass, take out garbage, wash the car, you name it. I'll be your slave for the rest of the summer."

"And if you win?"

"Ha! See you have doubts already."

"No, it's just that I have to know the stakes."

"Same bet. I win you become my slave for the rest of vacation. You do whatever -- and I mean WHATEVER I want."

"You can't be serious. That's the very kind of thing I wanted to talk about."

"So, we're talking about it."

"But..."

"Get off your high horse, Marsha. You either believe Dad would never do something like that or else you have doubts in which case you'll chicken out of the bet."

"No, I have every confidence in your father."

"Then?"

"All right, but when you're proven wrong I want an apology and I want all and I mean ALL the sexual innuendoes to stop."

"If you win, you got it!"

And with that Trent was up and out of the house before Marsha could say another word and she was left to begin a torturous series of rounds of self doubt and with them the beginnings of serious doubts about her marriage.

Later that afternoon, before Randy got home from work, Trent and Marsha arranged the nature of the wager. Marsha was uncomfortable with how self assured Trent was. She chided herself for doubting Randy. Yes, he had a thing for young girls, but he wasn't obsessed -- was he? She decided to stick in a last minute addendum to the wager.

When Randy arrived the three sat down to dinner and the conversation was at first mundane. Randy talked about work and how the shop foreman was an idiot who cost them several hours of downtime on the number one milling machine. Marsha told of receiving a phone call from her friend Vickie inviting her to a late nighter to watch some old forties and fifties movies.

"Can I go?" asked Trent.

Marsha feigned angst. "It's just going to be some girls my age watching old movies."

"Yeah, but didn't you tell me Vickie had a new computer. Maybe I could..."

"Well, I suppose it would be all right."

Trent smiled since it was time to set up the wager.

"Oh, and by the way, Dad, Mom found this and said to give it to you," said Trent, opening his backpack and handing the video toward his father.

"Oh, let me see," said Marsha grabbing the DVD from the boy.

"No, wait..." began Randy.

"Little First Timers," she read from the case. "My God, Randy."

"I don't know what your mother is talking about! I've never seen that before!" Randy pronounced.

"Then you won't mind if I throw it away," she said.

"Of course not."

Marsha walked over and tossed it in the wastebasket. She wanted to believe him, but doubt was now stronger than ever.

"That STAYS in the waste can!" she pronounced.

"Of course!" replied Randy.

"Because," she continued, "if it doesn't, you are going to go through the longest dry spell of your life."

Trent snickered and Randy winced. The conditions of the wager were now set. All that remained was to await the outcome. Marsha felt a bit better, having added the threat of withdrawing sex, but she was still ill at ease. She had never dreamed that Randy would take his fascination with young girls beyond their bedroom role playing. Even if Trent was lying about why Randy and his first wife had split, where did that DVD come from? Surely Trent had not gone to such lengths as to secure what was obviously an illegal video just for the purpose of getting her into bed. Or would he? The boy was precocious far beyond his years (and experienced as well). Certainly he was capable of such deviousness, but even if that were the case, how could he be so sure that Randy would not be able to stay away from the DVD in the trash basket?

Her mind was still whirling with possibilities and doubt as she cleared the dinner table and finished the dishes with a little unexpected help from Trent while Randy settled in to watch a favorite TV program.

"Getting nervous?" smiled Trent.

"Why should I?"

"We both saw the look on Dad's face when you tossed that DVD into the trash."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're lying, Marsha. I can see the doubt all over your face. You're hoping against hope that everything I've told you is a lie, that when we sneak back all we'll see is Dad watching TV or working on his model car collection. But deep down inside, you know what I've said is the truth and you're going to find you husband is a pervert and you are going to belong to me for the rest of the summer. Want to back out of the bet?" Marsha looked into the boy's eyes with a look of near desperation. "Well, forget it!" he laughed. "I didn't set you up. You set yourself up. And now you're going to pay the price."

"We'll see about that," she responded, but without any real conviction in her voice.

Another hour and she and Trent were ready to leave.

"Now don't wait up. You know Vickie's video parties. It may be the early morning hours before we're back," she said, pecking Randy on the cheek and picking up her car keys.

"So you get to spend the evening with a lot of good looking women, eh?" Randy chided his son.

"If they're all as good looking as Marsha, it will be worth it."

"No way anyone could be as good looking as Marsha."

"Well, there's always Vickie's new computer and the internet."

"Come on or they'll start the first movie without us." said Marsha.

"Okay, okay," responded Trent grabbing his jacket.

With that they were out the door and driving off within seconds.

"Now what?" asked Marsha.

"Now we wait. Let's give him a half hour. He'll want to be sure we didn't forget something and come charging back in. Let's get a soda, then I'll collect on our bet."

"You sound awfully sure of yourself."

"I am."

Forty-five minutes later they entered the driveway beside Randy's parents house which led to the trailer. Marsha turned off the lights and they crept at a snail's pace so as not to make noise until they were within a hundred feet or so of the trailer. Killing the engine, Marsha got out and joined Trent in approaching the house stealthily. Trent pointed to the front window which, even though the blinds were drawn, afforded a restricted view of the living room because the blinds did not reach all the way to the window sill thanks to Trent having positioned them before they left.

The two peered in but the room was empty.

"Can you see the wastebasket?" whispered Trent.

"Just ... yes, the DVD is still there. I guess that means you'll be cleaning up the yard tomorrow," she said with a slight smile.

"Not so fast. Where's Dad?"

"I don't see him."

"Follow me," he whispered.

They went to the front door and although it was locked, Marsha eased her key into the lock and slowly they gained entrance. They were brought up short by sounds coming from Trent's bedroom.

"Did you forget the spare TV in my room?" whispered the boy.

Slow single step by slow single step they crept down the hall to Trent's room. The door was closed but the grunts, groans and screams of preadolescents were all too clear.

"Crafty," whispered Trent in her ear. "He got the DVD, burned a copy and replaced the original in the wastebasket for you to find when you came home."

He eased the doorknob and the door came ajar noiselessly. Trent smiled then stepped back so Marsha could clearly see what was taking place. She saw Randy turned slightly away from her and perusing the TV screen as a very underage young girl was being savaged by a sadistic brute of a man. The girl was screaming, the man laughing as he drove himself into the helpless youngster from behind.

"Yeah," she heard Randy breathe, "fuck her. Fuck her hard!"

It was only then that Marsha realized Randy was masturbating as he watched the sickening perversion on the screen.

Stunned, she was totally immobile as Trent had to ease the door closed again.

"My God," she finally whispered. "I ... he ... I have to put a stop to this!"

She turned to enter the room but Trent pulled her back.

"Uh, uh. Later, on your own time I don't care what you do or say to him, but as of this moment you belong to me."

"No, I ... I ... I..." Marsha's mind was afog. She had just learned her husband was a pervert. The wonderful, handsome man she had fallen in love with lusted after children. She suddenly felt lightheaded as if she might faint. Her world was crashing down around her and she had no idea what to do next. She hardly felt the hand of the boy take hers and guide her to the other bedroom. It was almost as if she were drugged. her mind could not, would not process what she had just experienced. Everything, every concept she possessed of the universe had suddenly been turned on its end and nothing made sense, nothing mattered, including her life.

She stood mute, unseeing, unfeeling, uncaring as Trent removed her clothing one item at a time. He slipped off her shoes, unbelted her skirt, then unbuttoned and removed the silk blouse. Marsha stood unaware in her panties and bra as Trent stood back to admire his handiwork.

"Ready to get naked for me?" he grinned.

Marsha turned to look at him but the words, her clothing, her body meant nothing now. If she was aware of his unsnapping the bra and letting it fall to the floor, she showed no sign. Nor did she respond when his youthful but experienced fingers slowly rolled her panties down and off.

"You're mine now, Marsha," he said, despite his carnal experience, excited by her curvaceous naked body. His eyes feasted on the luscious full and high riding breasts, dark and massive areolas, extremely thin waist which broadened to full sensuous hips and curvaceous legs and thighs. The small feet were still covered in the folds of skirt and blouse.

She turned to him in only semi recognition, taking his proffered hand allowing herself to be led to the bed. Marsha lay back on the bed her eyes glazed, her mind uncomprehending. Her entire life had, within the space of a few seconds, dissolved, rotted away to nothingness. She was devastated and unable to think or even be aware as Trent slowly shed his own clothes in anticipation of claiming his prize.

He began by kissing every part of her inert and unresponsive body. Only when his kisses reached her neck did she utter a slight involuntary moan. She lay like a corpse as his kisses found her breasts. This time a whine as her nipples turned to granite. Only then did she begin to become aware of where she was and what was happening. His hands continued to fondle her breasts as his lips slowly moved to her navel, then into her nest hair.

Of a sudden, Marsha's mind cleared and she realized full well what was happening -- she was in bed naked with her stepson who was about to take her. She started to protest, to scream, run if necessary to prevent the unspeakable act about to be committed. Yet two things prevented her from doing so. First, Trent's tongue found her labial lips and an instant later her clit, driving her body into another uncontrollable state of arousal much like that which had occurred at the drive-in, and secondly, even if she could have summoned every ounce of her will power and pushed Trent away why should she? Her marriage, her life itself was a shambles. Nothing mattered anyway. It was not a sense of revenge which drove her to spread her legs widely to admit his talented tongue even father, but rather a sense hopelessness that the happiness she thought she had found with Randy was a sham, her marriage despoiled, her life ruined. So what did it matter if she spread herself for a fifteen year old. He was at least three to five years older than the girls Randy had been looking at on the DVD. Besides, she reasoned, they had bet and she had lost. She would effectively belong to Trent for the remaining month and a half before he returned to school. Why not degrade herself? What did it matter? Nothing mattered anymore -- nothing.

Even so she was determined to sacrifice herself to Trent, an unemotional and unmoving partner. but those thoughts were swiftly thrown to the wind when his tongue found her clit and began a rapid fire flicking over the tip of the engorged organ.

Any disappointment that her body had caved so easily was swept away when Marsha groaned loudly and her hands came down to cradle Trent's head as it bobbed to and fro and his tongue darted in and out of her.

Despite her initial intention of remaining unresponsive, it was quite the opposite as Trent played the inexperienced housewife like a finely turned instrument, fingering her, caressing her, cradling her against him, savoring each part of her, tuning her to a fever pitch.

Marsha felt herself losing control, tried vainly to reestablish some semblance of composure, then surrendered as Trent's tongue brought her first orgasm crashing over her.

She screamed, but neither she nor Trent made any effort to squash the sound as her body humped from bed to Trent's mouth and back again, feeling the electric jolt each time his tongue found her love mound.

Again his oral ministrations brought her to the brink. But this time he withdrew.

"No, pleeeeeeese!" she begged. "I need it! I want it!"

"So do I!" he pronounced as he raised his lips to her breast, neck and finally her mouth opened to his and they tasted each other, her body continuing to squirm in urgent need of being filled.

"Still want it, Marsha?" he smiled as the tip of his lance made contact with her labia.

"Yes! Fuck me, Trent! FUCK ME!" she screamed as he plunged into her steaming nest.

Again she screamed, not in pain but in ecstasy as the boy began thrusting into her and her hips began bouncing off the bed to meet and maximize his penetration.

Neither saw (nor at this point would either have cared) as the door to the bedroom opened just a crack and Randy stood watching as his wife was ravished by his fifteen year old son. He had heard her cries over the grunts, groans and screams on the DVD and come exploring.

"Want me to cum in you Marsha?" asked Trent, approaching climax.

"Yes! Yes! Deep in me! Oh YESSSSSSSS" she hissed as yet another climax shook her voluptuous body and she felt his hot seed spurt far into her womb.

"Get me hard and I'll show you something new," he said.

Although Marsha and Randy had practiced oral sex on their honeymoon, it had been a one time event and so Trent had to show her how to use the combination of sucking, licking and swallowing to get the intended results. But results she got and within a minute or two he was experiencing another raging erection.

It wasn't long before Marsha was turned over and brought her knees under her to offer her dark, tight hole to the boy. Although or perhaps because of his experience, Trent used lubrication and entered her slowly. Even so, Marsha was a virgin at anal sex and her loud moans, groans and finally screams of both pain and pleasure filled the small bedroom.