Lydia moved toward Elaine without saying another word to Irene, who was alone for less than a minute before Mary stood in front of her. Though the girl seemed a bit stocky, her legs were thin. The first inch of her thighs was covered with hair only a bit more sparse than that which covered her pubis. "Can I sit down?" The girl's voice was soft now. The hole was almost shiny with recent moisture.
"Of course," said Irene, wondering at the rhetorical question.
She did not notice, in the new excitement of touching Mary's full, warm body, that Lydia and Elaine had left the room. They returned in a couple of minutes. Claude stood in the doorway of the living room. He was dressed in cotton pajamas, and his face wore a timid expression. He looked at his mother appealingly. Mary's face covered her vagina. The shock passed through Irene in a single nauseous wave.
"Claude!" The sound of his name surprised her even as it came from her dry throat. His hands were at his sides. The fingers were spread apart, as if to enable the hand to catch something, should it be thrown. Every muscle of the boy's body was tensed.
Her glance shifted to Elaine. She was angry. But Elaine remained impassive, and the strength in her answering glance buried the anguished scream of protest in Irene's throat. Claude's mother felt an incredible weight of failure at not being able to object, and Elaine, knowing that she had won, brought the boy's pajama top over his head.
His nipples were like brown dimes on the bony surface of his narrow chest. The skin was hairless, but the sun had tanned it. Elaine knelt behind him, and Irene winced as she watched her lover's thumbs push down under the waist at the sides of the bottoms. As if to torture her, Elaine pulled the pants down slowly, lingering for a moment just before the undressing was to reveal the child's sex.
The hair around the cock was thin, though the strands themselves were long and dark. His scrotum hung below the limp tool like a shriveled sack. The boy's penis had been circumcised when Claude was an infant, but -- as if for protection -- the remaining foreskin covered the glans. Elaine, rising a bit on her haunches, reached around him and rubbed the underside of the bag with her palm. The prick inflated slightly, and the covering skin drew back. A line of purple shone with the light in the room as the head became bulbous and the stick moved to erection.
"We just wanted him to... watch," Elaine said, staring into Irene's eyes. Irene wondered why she was still conscious, why she had not fainted or fallen into a swoon. Her consciousness, she realized, biting into her lower lip, was her punishment for letting her son be put through this. She cursed her own weakness.
"Get him a pillow," Elaine said, gesturing across the room, and Lydia moved gracefully, returning in seconds. Elaine fluffed the pillow and put it on the floor directly under Claude. Her fingers pressed against his hips as she eased him down. He seemed completely pliable, Irene realized. He was acquiescing now; the childish fight had gone out of him, and he had resigned himself. He had traced himself and it was almost as if a cloud had been drawn over the proceedings, obscuring them, filtering them to make the outlines of motion and reaction less harsh. Yet, at the same time, he felt an excitement in his stomach. At first it was like an ache; strokes of pain that seemed to pull and contract the muscles inside. But almost immediately that sensation seemed (o diffuse into his genitals and flow with the pulse of the blood. As soon as Elaine drew her hand away from his swelling cock, he instinctively, wanted another hand to replace it, pulling on the skin until his cum would shoot out and drench it, as he had so many times.
Elaine had come to Irene. Her legs were spread apart, and one hand was stationed oh her hip, while the other arm dangled at her side. Irene knew what she wanted -- the ultimate in submission. Rising up, straining her body against the gravity of her own repulsion, she brought her mouth against the thick bush. Her hands moved under Elaine and pressed the buttocks as her tongue came out to lash the clit, which grew with each wet stroke.
As if to make a chain, Mary was behind her on all fours, ducking her own head between Irene's limbs, twisting her neck so that her own mouth could drill itself to Irene's cunt. Her grip was tight; she did not release Irene for fear she would lose her balance. Her tongue slipped inside the narrow hole, and her own hair was strewn over her face as her mouth made sucking, slurping noises. Irene could hear the rhythm of the suction as she felt the indirect pressure on her clit. The thumbs were tugging at the sides of the box, and Mary's tongue would circle the flaps just before it sank into the hole, soaking it in mild spit.
Elaine leaned down and wrapped her hands around Irene's neck, trying to keep her balance as the tongue stroked her button. Irene covered her teeth with her lips, then pulled the clit inside her mouth and twisted back and forth as Elaine, standing, began to writhe, thrusting her whole pelvis against Irene's face. Irene's face absorbed a thin layer of sweat from her lover's stomach, and a few strands of pubic hair were drawn into her sucking nostrils. Her fingernails clawed her buttock cheeks; the rough lovemaking she would give Elaine when both were really excited was her only way of expressing the violent emotions she felt toward her lover. Her nail even cut at the sphincter before drawing back, the fingertip rolling over the slight gap that opened in response.
Behind her, Mary had lifted her legs, one resting on each of Irene's shoulders. Mary was leaning back, sitting on her ass, with her legs drawn up toward her, bent at the knees, supporting Irene's spread thighs as Mary fingered the cunt and licked the clit.
Claude's eyes widened, but he tried to avoid the tangle of bodies, the central link of which was his mother's. He watched Annie and Lydia begin to make gentle love in a corner of the room. Annie had wrapped a belt around her waist, buttocks, and pelvis; attached to it was an almost comic representation of a penis. Astride Lydia, she tried to poke the bulbous head at her cunt, but Lydia was squirming under her, avoiding the instrument, and gesturing across the room. Annie reluctantly assented, and she drew back. Lydia stood; her hands moved unconsciously against her taut flesh, as if to smooth it down while she walked. Annie followed her, the giant prick bobbing between her legs.
Claude shut his eyes, and his hand took tight hold of his own phallus. He kept the cock hidden in the vise of his fist as he squeezed it. The feeling was an exaggerated ticklishness; he had made himself cum before, but he had never been this excited. He was almost afraid to go on with masturbating; the sensation that encouraged him was so intense that he almost feared blood rather than semen would spurt from the prick head.
It was not his hand that moved first, but rather his belly, which pushed out almost automatically. The hand was stationary, but his cock moved up. Released, Claude began to pump at his cock. His hand was a blur as he pressed down on the flattened underside with four fingertips, on the curved side of the tube with his thumb. Every few strokes he would hesitate, fearing he would cum too soon, that the pleasure quartered in his genitals would escape.
Annie had seated herself on the floor behind Mary, whose rear she lifted with Lydia's help. The girl was furiously running her half-open mouth over Irene's cunt, the teeth almost ripping the labial skin, while the lips twisted behind them to soothe the aching. Annie separated Mary's buttocks, and Mary squatted down on the dildo until half of it was hidden between her cheeks and her grunts began to interrupt her deep, wheezing breaths with a rhythm of their own. Mary's ass seemed to swivel back and forth, until still more of the dildo was inside her rectum, pressing at the tearing walls.
Only Lydia's body was perpendicular to the line the other women formed. She ducked her head under Mary's leg and rolled her mouth over Mary's thick cunt hair, covering the hole with her tongue.