Chapter 6

The Eiffel Tower Inn was a seedy dump on the outskirts of town, a no-tell motel that charged for its rooms by the hour, not by the night. Most of its clientele consisted of twenty-dollar hookers with their johns, or bored housewives with men they weren't married to. It was the sort of ratty place that – in her wildest dreams – Judy never thought she would ever step foot into, let alone be renting a room at.

But I have to, Judy thought, as she uneasily stepped into the motel lobby. And besides, it's not like Bobby could rent a room for us ... he's only fourteen, and doesn't look a day older than that... She shuddered as she contemplated that thought ... as well as the thought of what she was about to do with her youngest son. As much as she hadn't minded sucking Bobby's cock – and as guilty as she felt about how much she'd enjoyed it – she knew couldn't do it again. She just couldn't. She could somehow excuse what she'd done the other day with Bobby as a big mistake ... but Bobby didn't see it that way at all. Quite the opposite, actually.

As long as he has those pictures of me having sex with Duke, Judy thought nervously, I can't stop him. Part of her completely and utterly regretted her impulsive decision to let the big, powerful family Labrador retriever fuck her ... she still wasn't entirely sure why she did that, apart from she'd discovered that her nubile teenage daughter Sarah was already fucking the dog, and apparently having an amazing time doing so. That, and Judy hadn't been fucked by her husband in years, so the thought of getting fucked by a big, beautiful cock – even a canine cock – had her ready to sexually explode.

And while Duke had been fucking her ... it had indeed been fantastic. She just hadn't counted on being discovered by her youngest son Bobby – stupid me, Judy thought, being so horny and careless – or that upon being discovered, Bobby would blackmail her into giving him a wet, sloppy blowjob. And she definitely hadn't counted on the fact that he'd just be satisfied with that. Oh, no. He wanted more, so much more...

... which was why she was nervously standing in the doorway of the dirty, dingy lobby of the Eiffel Tower Inn.

This has to be the last time, Judy thought nervously, blushing slightly as she realized just how wet her pussy was getting as she thought about Duke ... and especially about her son Bobby. It has to be, it can't go on ... it just can't...

Judy walked further into the motel lobby, right up to the front desk. She wore a long tan trench coat with a rather large belt holding it closed, exactly like Bobby had instructed her to wear. He'd given her a lot of instructions earlier in the day, his many texts to her flying fast and furious. Judy could only imagine the wicked smile of wanton glee that must've been plastered on her youngest son's face as he'd sent some of them to her, her own eyes widening in horror as she'd read them that morning at the breakfast table.

Noon. Today, the texts started. And here's what you're going to do, Mom...

The front desk was empty. Timidly, Judy rang the old-fashioned bell sitting at the edge of the counter. She heard an annoyed grunt, and turned her head, noticing a slightly-open door to the right of the desk. As the door opened wider, she saw an older, thin man staring at her warily, walking towards her with a rolled-up newspaper in his hand. He wore a faded pair of overalls over a stained, yellowing wife beater shirt, and what was left of the gray hair on his balding head was long and pulled back into a ponytail. From the little that Judy could see inside the office, the man hadn't actually been reading the newspaper ... judging from the static-filled moaning she could hear, he'd been watching a porno or something.

"Um, hello," Judy said, as the man reached the desk counter. "I'd, uh, like to get a room here today. I don't have, um, a reservation, though."

"No one ever does, honey," the man grumbled sourly. He gave her a sad look of utter disgust. "Whatever ... it doesn't matter. Just need a name ... and how long do you need the room for, lady? We charge by the hour, not by the night, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Ju–, uh, Smith," Judy said nervously. "Jane Smith, that is. And, uh, four hours, I guess." She didn't know why she said that number, apart from it seemed right ... and she found herself desperately hoping her time in the room was much, much shorter than that. "Do you, uh, take credit –?"

"Cash only," the man at the desk said, jerking a thumb back towards a large sign on the wall behind the counter. "We don't take checks or credit cards, Mrs. Jane ... Smith." A knowing grin spread across his face as he cocked his head, shamelessly admiring Judy's chest. Even through the trench coat, it was quite evident that her luscious tits were in no way any less spectacular. "Jane Smith. Heh. Never heard that name before. Anyway, just cash ... unless you're interested in providing other, uh, favors." He licked his dry lips, and placed a room key onto the counter in front of her. "I'm sure we can work out some sort of ... well, arrangement."

"No, that's fine," Judy said, feeling her cheeks burn crimson with embarrassment as she looked down, reaching into her purse for a wad of cash. She barely took the time to properly count it, simply shoving a pile of bills in front of the desk clerk to pay for the room. The desk clerk barked a cruel, mocking laugh as she snatched up the key and turned on her heels, headed for the door as his sinister mirth rang hauntingly in her ears.

This isn't happening, Judy thought numbly, as she walked down the front of the hotel, passing door after door to her room, this is like some horrible nightmare... except it wasn't, which made Judy feel all the more mortified ... and extremely confused.

As embarrassing as it'd been for Judy to have been caught fucking a dog by her son Bobby – and then, for her to have given Bobby a blowjob in exchange for his silence – just thinking about the depraved, disgusting things she'd done with the family dog and her own sweet son was making her pussy absolutely throb with a naughty, tingly warmth. She found herself constantly thinking about how good it'd felt to have her sex-starved cunt finally fucked again, how much she'd cum from the enormous doggie cock slamming in and out of her pussy, until the massive Labrador retriever had spurted his own hot canine cum inside her. And when Bobby shoved his cock between her lips and fucked her mouth, spilling his seed down her throat ... she hadn't exactly been shy about as much of swallowing her son's creamy load as she could.

I can't, I can't, Judy kept trying to remind herself, today is the last time, really, it has to be ... I just have to make Bobby understand that we can't do this, not ever again ... it's wrong, it's so wrong...

With a resigned sigh, Judy took out her own cellphone. There weren't any further text messages from Bobby waiting for her, which made her feel momentarily relieved. However, what she needed to do next with the phone wasn't exactly all that much better. Reluctantly, she looked at the key she'd been given, examining it closely ... and then she followed the next of her instructions from her horny young son.

>>>237

Her thumbs awkwardly hit the keys on her phone as she texted the motel room number to Bobby. She didn't quite know where her son was, though she guessed that he was probably somewhere nearby. He probably has to ride his bike over here ... he's too young to even drive, Judy thought, feeling more dirty and ashamed than ever. He's still so young ... and he wants me to suck his cock, like some cheap whore...

Slowly, Judy made her way past the row of rooms outside the office, over to the stairwell that led up to the second floor. Thankfully, the Eiffel Tower Inn was located on a more lonely part of the highway leading out of town ... there wasn't too much traffic that went by. Every time a car whizzed along the road, Judy found herself worriedly glancing over in the direction of the road, hoping that the car passing by didn't look at all familiar. At least Bobby had enough sense to do ... to do this somewhere out of the way, Judy thought. No one can ever know about this ... no one at all...

Judy finally got to the room. With a weary shake of her head, she jiggled the key into the lock, and pushed open the door. Room 237 was small and cramped. Judy thought it smelled vaguely of mildew as she walked into the room – the walls were an ugly off-white hue, with a few watery-looking stains running down them. There wasn't much in the plain, barren room except for a queen-sized bed, an ancient, hulking television, and an old recliner that looked like it'd seen better days. There wasn't a comforter or anything else covering the bed, either – just slightly yellowing sheets, ones that were probably new long before Judy had even been married, wrinkled and musty and in desperate need of replacing. A dark, grimy carpet covered the floor, almost black, presumably to hide its many stains.

"Charming," Judy muttered quietly to herself. "Quite the lover's paradise." She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she looked around the tiny room. She couldn't believe for a moment that she'd ever considered cheating on her husband before ... not so much out of any sense of fidelity to the miserable bastard, but rather because of the dilapidated state of the motel. I thought having sex with some young stud in a rundown place like this would've been fun? Judy wondered bitterly. Somehow, I thought an affair would be so much more glamorous than ... well, than this shithole...

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

A wave of terror ran through Judy as she stared at the door, feeling completely paralyzed and helpless. Oh no, she thought fearfully, what if it's Martin? The thoughts that she'd just been having about her husband had left her feeling paranoid. She knew that Martin kept a number of unsavory contacts in his employ ... what if the front desk clerk of the motel was one of them? She was pretty sure he wasn't, but still ... if her husband found her in some seedy hotel at the edge of town, she was terrified of what might happen.

And if Martin realizes I'm here to give our son Bobby a blowjob...

Judy shuddered, and ruefully shook her head. She didn't want to think about what might happen. She couldn't.

Nervously, Judy opened the door a tiny crack. A mixed feeling of relief and shame came over her as Bobby barged on into the room, his book bag slung over his shoulder as he walked past his mother. He was dressed similarly to the way he had been the day before, when he'd walked in on Judy fucking Duke in her office – a black hooded sweatshirt over a plain white t-shirt, with baggy jeans and well-worn sneakers – and much like the day before, Judy felt pretty sure that her son wouldn't be wearing most of those clothes for long.

"Cool," Bobby said as he entered the dingy hotel room, nodding as he rubbed his hands together in gleeful approval. "I wasn't sure you'd actually go through with this, you nasty slut. This is awesome!" He let his book bag drop off his shoulder to the floor, and unzipped his hooded sweatshirt, taking it off and tossing it to the side of the bed. "This place is exactly as great as I thought it would be!"

"I'm not ... not..." Judy murmured. I'm not a slut, she wanted to say, except she couldn't make herself actually say the words. She knew they weren't true ... not at all. If Bobby hadn't caught her with Duke the other day, she knew she'd be letting the giant Labrador retriever fuck her again. Having that massive doggie prick hammering away at her pussy had been utterly amazing ... and part of her really wanted to fuck the big dog again.

And again.

And to her shame, she hadn't exactly minded having Bobby's dick in her mouth, either.

"Sure you're a slut, Mom," Bobby said amiably. He laughed and sat down in the recliner, lazily sprawling out on it. "You sucked my dick, remember? And I'm pretty sure you liked it, too." He laughed again as he saw his mother's cheeks turn bright crimson with shame ... although Judy realized that was because he was getting off on humiliating her. He didn't realize the truth ... that she was more embarrassed by his words because they were absolutely, completely true.

"Fine," Judy muttered darkly. "Well, we both know what you want. Let's get this over with." She started to kneel in front of her son, descending down between his splayed legs. To her surprise, though, Bobby held up a hand in front of her, his smirk growing even wider as he gave her the indication to stop. Twirling his finger, Bobby pointed upwards, motioning for her to stand right back up again.

"What's the rush?" Bobby said cheerfully. "I mean, don't get me wrong, Mom. I love how your mouth feels on my cock. Especially those soft, perfect lips of yours." He leaned over to one side, reaching for his backpack and unzipping it. With a grunt, he pulled out a small little docking station for his iPod and a pair of black, high-quality speakers. Judy recognized the speakers as the ones she'd given him the previous Christmas... never thought he'd be using them for ... for this, she thought numbly. Bobby stood up, and moved the station and the speakers over to one of the dressers in the room. He slid his iPod out of one of his jeans pockets and slid it neatly into the station, attaching it firmly with a twist of his hand and a small, sharp clicking sound.

"I don't understand," Judy said quietly, as she watched Bobby plop back lazily into the chair. "What do you want me to do? I thought you wanted –"

"What I wanted," Bobby interrupted, "was for you to entertain me." He reached into the pocket of his jeans, and took out a slim, black remote. "Don't worry, you'll get to suck my dick soon enough. But first, I want you to put on a show for me. I want you to strip for me. Slowly. Take off all your clothes so I can look at every inch of your naked body. And make it sexy ... pretend like you're a stripper on a brass pole." Bobby laughed. "I've even got some dollar bills for you, if you're good at it."

Judy clapped her hands to her mouth in shock. Even though – deep down – she kind of thought that Bobby would want something like that ... she'd been desperately hoping that he wouldn't. She'd somehow convinced herself in vain that Bobby would be completely satisfied with just having her suck his cock one last time, and then everything would be over. Everything could go back to the way things had been, just a few days before, like nothing had happened. Bobby's words, however – and the wicked, entirely all-too-eager tone in her youngest son's voice – forced Judy to acknowledge the reality of her situation, much as she didn't want to.

Things would never, ever again be the way that they were.

Still, Judy shook her head. "No, sweetie," Judy whispered, an edge of desperation creeping into her trembling voice. "I can't ... I don't know how, I wouldn't be any good ... I ... please, Bobby, don't make me..."

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Mom," Bobby snapped irritably. Judy's eyes widened in horror as she saw a wolfish, wicked grin spreading across her youngest son's face. "Stop whining and take your fucking clothes off. Besides, you're the disgusting slut who decided to spread her legs for a dirty dog ... a dog, Mom. So unless you want Dad to find out about what a perverted whore he married..." Bobby pointed his finger at his mother and winked. "Well, I think you better start stripping, just like I asked."

Bobby held his remote up over his head, and tapped the big round button on top of the remote with his thumb. The sounds of a raunchy, thumping disco beat erupted from the stereo sitting on top of the dresser, filling the room with a sleazy bow-chicka-bow-wow grind. Glaring at his mother, he dropped the remote onto the floor and gave another impatient, expectant twirl with his hand. Judy could already see a rather impressive bulge between his legs starting to tent up inside his jeans.

"Do it," Bobby repeated. "Strip, slut."

Judy nodded ... and nervously, she obeyed.

Slowly, she undid the belt of the trench coat, letting it slide off her shoulders and fall to the floor. Beneath the coat, Judy only wore a pair of wispy, transparent red silk panties and a red lace bra, her ample chest straining mightily against the sheer, filmy fabric of the garment. Bobby had specifically asked for her in his texts that morning to wear them, and she could see from the excited look in his eyes that he was more than pleased that she'd followed his request.

How ... how did he even know I owned these? Judy wondered, as she put up her arms over her head, snapping her fingers to the beat, closing her eyes as she slowly twirled about in front of her horny teenage son. Did he look through my underwear drawer? Did he ... did he sniff them? Masturbate with them? To her dawning horror, Judy found the thought of that incredibly arousing. Thinking about Bobby with his jeans pulled down, with her panties wrapped around his stiff dick as he jerked himself off ... it made her start to feel damp with desire. How long has Bobby been dreaming of fucking me?

Judy's heart pounded with nervous, naughty excitement as she spun around right in front of her son ... and yes, it was excitement. She couldn't deny that anymore. As she finished spinning around, she dropped to her knees right in front of Bobby, slapping her hands squarely on his thighs, wiggling her ass about as she suggestively licked her lips. With her face right in her son's crotch, she couldn't see his face ... but she heard the short, surprised gasp that escaped from his lips, and she fought hard not to smile.

He thinks he's in charge, Judy mused, maybe I should show Bobby who's really in charge...

Judy ran her fingertips further up Bobby's thighs, tracing them lightly over the outline of her son's raging hard-on. As Bobby gasped again in unabashed pleasure, she slowly rose to her feet.

Taking a deep breath, Judy hooked her thumbs into the barely-there waistband of the skimpy lace panties she wore, and yanked them down to her ankles as well.

Swaying her hips in rhythm to the music, she moved right up to her son, his eyes wide and glazed with utter lust, gyrating in front of him. She reached behind herself, undoing the clasp of her lace bra, and let it fall into Bobby's lap, letting her huge, luscious breasts free right in front of his lust-crazed face. As she danced, she watched with a mixture of dread and delight as she saw Bobby's eyes, glazed with wanton excitement, sliding downwards to stare right at her crotch, right at the blonde curls of her damp muff ... and then she clambered on top of him, putting her hands on his shoulders as she straddled him, shamelessly grinding her pussy against the bulge in his jeans.

"Is this what you want, baby?" Judy asked her son, her voice quavering with both fear and excitement as she brazenly rubbed her cunt against Bobby's lap. She lowered her face so her forehead touched Bobby's, her nose almost grazing against his as her blonde hair brushed against his face. "Do you like it when Mommy acts like a whore –"

Suddenly, Judy felt her son's hands roughly grabbing her sides ... and then, Bobby yanked her towards him, crushing his lips against hers as she writhed naughtily on his lap, his tongue eagerly pushing into her mouth. Judy didn't stop him. Instead, she passionately kissed her fourteen-year old son right back, her tongue intertwining with his as she pressed her round, heavy breasts against his chest. His hands roughly grabbed her ass cheeks as she continued to gyrate lewdly on his lap, kneading her soft, pale flesh with his strong fingers, and Judy felt her son's erection start to rub insistently against her wet, excited slit.