lulling them. Somewhere beyond, the porno movie went on, or maybe it was another one. This time, the moans of the women and the gasping of men seemed like music; now Lauralee could read the notes and catch the rhythm. It was a melody for lovers.
Bettina rolled easily off her body and lay to one side, a forearm across her eyes, small, round breasts rising and falling rapidly. Lazily, Lauralee watched the movement of the pink nipples. She wondered how they would taste, if she dared to wrap her tongue around them. Funny, she thought; she had never entertained such a thought before. Did it mean that she was a lesbian, that what had gone wrong in her marriage had been HER fault, and not Marshall's?
She kept staring at the delicious-looking cones of the girl's breasts, and her eyes wandered down the supple length of the delicately formed body, so small and youthful, to the patch of curly, darkly golden hair nestled between slender, perfect thighs. No wonder her son had been so intrigued by Bettina; no wonder he had run away and married her.
Lauralee blinked. Her SON; she had been doing all these lascivious things with her own son's wife, with a girl even younger than Robbie. But – and she frowned – but this girl did it with him, too. Bettina couldn't be a lesbian, if she enjoyed screwing men also. Could she? Lauralee was confused. Too many things were happening to her at once, and she was having difficulty coping.
On the screen across the room, someone said huskily, 'Oh eat me, darling – eat my pussy.'
Trembling, Lauralee reached out one hand and cupped the child's appealing breast. Her thumb and forefinger rolled the erectile nipple between them. Mesmerized, she leaned closer, and nuzzled into the dainty valley between the twin globes. They were soft and scented, rounded and beguiling. Lauralee's tongue eased out and toyed with the pink tip. Bettina shivered, but didn't take her arm down from her eyes, and Lauralee knew a lifting of confidence.
By not moving Bettina had told her silently that the girl's spectacular body was hers for the taking, for using as she saw fit. It was a strange moment, when Lauralee realized that, when she knew she could do anything with another person's naked flesh – handle it, kiss it, pat and fondle and caress – even hurt it, if she so desired.
All she wanted to do was to love this captivating body, to bring it as much pleasure as it had given her. Lauralee refused to think beyond this scintillating moment, to go past the NOW of love. Sometime, somewhere she would have to turn this radiant child back to her new husband. But she didn't want to think of that dreary moment, and put it out of her head.
Tenderly, she sucked upon the girl's nipple, relishing its flavor, its aroma lying perfumed upon her tongue. She played her hands over Bettina's flesh, over the narrow hips and across the flat stomach. Inch by inch, her fingers strayed ever closer to the charming nest of pubic hair so gleaming and soft. Lauralee touched it, and was thrilled by its silken texture, by the damp heat rising through its ringleted moss.
She peered down, releasing the breast from her lips with reluctance, but drawn by something far more compelling. Cupping the downy mattress of Bettina's mound with one palm, she kissed the girl's tremulous belly, and wriggled the end of her tongue into the dimpled belly button.
Bettina moved then, twitching at the wet tingle, and Lauralee moved farther down, trailing her lips over creamy skin. There were the labia, pulsing red and symmetrical beneath their covering of glistening fur. The pussy lips seemed to be pulsing, to be awaiting the caress that would bring them leaping and writhing. Lauralee didn't wait any longer. She probed down into the fleecy bush and licked the full and pouting labia. She tasted musk, and exotic spices she couldn't identify, and her own breasts ached with need.
Turning her body and positioning herself between the girl's spread legs, Lauralee slid her palms beneath the dainty cheeks of Bettina's ass, and stared down into the opened pussy. Moaning then, she plunged her feverish face into that adorable crotch, into the silken hair and against the pulsating labia. She drove her extended tongue greedily into them, through their rubbery clinging and into the steamy hole.
As Bettina gasped and rolled her belly, Lauralee exulted. She was doing it, licking another woman's most private part, feeling around the velvet sheath with her tongue and raking her teeth gently against the spongy cunt lips. Using her tongue the way she remembered the girl doing it, Lauralee drilled deeply, and withdrew with quick little curlings.
Her daughter-in-law hunched tempestuously to her mouth, and Lauralee sucked, trying to draw all the honeyed sweetness down her throat. It was slick, wondrous liquid, fantastically intimate juice that taste of love, beautiful, horny love. It bathed her chin and cheeks, and all she could think of was a seedless, ripe pomegranate.
There was the clitoris, the quivering, succulent little clit, hidden in its protective covering; Lauralee's tongue found it quickly. She was growing more experienced with every passing moment, and thought perhaps experience really wasn't necessary like this, woman to woman. Now that she knew her own body, she also knew those of other women. Far better than any man could know them, she was certain.
Drawing upon the clit, she manipulated its nubbin with her tongue, circling it, pressing down, then releasing. Bettina was squirming fervently, rocking her sleek hips from side to side and humping, grinding, smearing her glossy cunt into Lauralee's mouth. Lauralee ate it, tried to devour it, to swallow it down and take its sugared juices forever into herself.
'Oh darling!' Bettina cried out. 'Oohh – you're giving me the most wonderful head! Lauralee – ooh baby – you're driving my little clit crazy. You're making me come, darling – COME!'
Lauralee felt the churning of the girl's fiery snatch, the shudders that wracked the small and twisting body. She could almost come herself, she thought; it was so good to be able to give such rapture to another, so stimulating and delightfully wanton, to be eating pussy like this.
Lifting her face from the soggy, palpitating mound, she licked greedily at the overflowing lubrication and sat back upon her knees to stare down at the girl's flexing body.
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.
CHAPTER THREE
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 he 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.
