At the height of their jostling, he stepped under the spray with her and let it sluice away the soap. "Hey! This is way out, Mom!"
"Oooh, Danny! I liked it with the soap all over us!"
"Yeah! This is wild!"
"Why did you rinse it off?"
"We're making it too fast. I wanted to play for awhile." He grinned. "You're more fun to play with when you're all excited, Mom."
"Danny!"
He lifted her off his dick and sat her on her feet. Turning the shower off, he reached out for towels and patted the water from their bodies. He stepped out with her, then, and scrubbed her vigorously with the towel.
He's right, she decided, panting. I'll let him do anything to me while I'm excited. She spread her thighs while his fingers probed between her hot labia. "Ohhh, baby! Oh, precious!" she crooned.
Danny picked her up and carried her to his room. He spread-eagled her on his bed, tying her and chuckling happily to himself. He produced an electric vibrator and began to play it over her breasts, rolling its base against their lower bulges until she squirmed with pleasure, then applying its tip alternately to each of her nipples. She writhed and babbled. He pulled the tip of the vibrator across her belly and slid it between her legs while wild surges of excitement slammed through her. When he laid it on her clitoris the universe exploded for her. She arched her back to drive her ass into the mattress, then bowed the opposite way to elevate her pussy. There was no way to evade the insane stimulus. Desire welled in her cunt and flowed outward along her fibers until she was frantic with delight. The convulsive spasms of orgasm rolled over her in a succession that made the room turn black.
She heard someone screaming and only slowly realized by the sensation in her throat that it was she. Her cunt flamed and her body burned with sympathetic fury. When her spasms finally began to subside, her son lay aside the vibrator and brought his hands to her crotch in its place. She slowly regained her vision and started to discern between the individual touches that kept her from sliding out of her passion.
Danny climbed between her thighs and nestled his cockhead between her labia. He pressed it home, expanding her rim and sinking his shaft into her belly. His hips surged and the crazy explosion happened again. Helen twisted her head and bit her lip, her knees jerking and her boobs flopping. She moaned happily, a hazy notion growing that she could remain indefinitely in her orgasm.
But the hot welling of semen at her core released her after a final, wild thrashing, and her son's dick began to wilt. Afterward, they clung to each other and slept. More than once during the night, Danny awakened Helen and she yielded herself to his resurgent demands. And in the morning, after they'd both gone into the bathroom and returned eagerly to the bed, she straddled him and lowered herself onto his waiting cock for an exhilarating ride. She felt as if all the desire of the previous fifteen hours was concentrated in that single flurry of lust, and her climax left her so weak she toppled from her son and lay paralyzed until he could rub life back into her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Danny objected to going to school. "No!" he yelled at her. "It'll be hours before Dad gets home! That's time for all kinds of games!"
"Dan Fredericson, you're going to school! We've both had enough for one session!"
He shook his head, childish stubbornness clear in his features. "Mom! You spoil everything!"
"I didn't notice you complaining about my spoiling things last night!"
"Oh, that was different! I mean making me go to school when you're right here!"
"Well that's too bad. Maybe I need a rest. Now get ready, before I get mad!"
He grumbled and kicked at each chair he passed, but he got ready for school. When she went to the door with him, he paused as if for her customary "goodbye" peck. She stood on tiptoe to kiss him, her hands resting against his chest, and he gathered her to him. He grabbed one of her breasts, massaging it eagerly, then pulled up her skirt and thrust his hand inside her panties and dug his fingers into her cunt. She squirmed wildly but without success, and when Danny withdrew his hand and opened the door, she was a quivering mass of confusion. She blew him a kiss and muttered, angry at herself for losing control of the situation and at her son for his impudence.
She raced through the most urgent of her housekeeping chores, her thoughts far from domestic routine. Danny's hasty feeling-up had thoroughly aroused her, and she was angrily conscious of the fact that it would be hours before Art got home. She argued with herself.
"You've really made it," she said. "All the way. When a woman turns her own son into a cunt-crazy machine, she's hit the bottom!" She gazed through the window. Oh, God, Helen! Just what have you done? What's going to happen? she shuddered.
She drained the sink and dried her hands. Pulsing with raw sexual desire and seething with self-contempt she rushed from the house. And what's the big fuss? she asked herself. You were afraid you were going to lose your husband? You did what had to be done, didn't you? Sinking to her knees before a rich-blooming rose, she inhaled its sweetness. "Oh, God!" Did I? How can the things I've done possibly give me the happiness of a secure home? And yet Art wants physical woman! He's got to have someone who goes wild with sex hunger with him! And if I'm going to be that self, that's what I'll have to be. There's only two of me; the one Grandma made and the one I inherited from Mama and Daddy. If I can't be one, I've got to be the other.
She choked back a sob. It didn't seem right to cry about it. She'd been free to make her decision and her father had repeatedly sneered at people who spent their lives regretting their decisions. "Christ Almighty!" he'd always said. "When a guy makes up his mind, he shuts a door on the other alternative! He's got to live with what he took, and there's no damn excuse for looking at the bad side of that!"
There's no damn excuse for looking at the bad side of it, she repeated now. For fifteen and a half years I've fought with myself. I've stamped out every dirty thought the instant I had it and frozen ever wiggle of excitement. That's the way it had to be if I wanted to be like Grandma. All right! The dirty-minded, cock-hungry slut was the natural me all the time! Now I know that's what Art wants, and it means doing what my impulses say; that's all!
She raised her eyes to gaze at tiny, puffball clouds as they drifted across the sky. All I have to remember is that's good, now, instead of bad? Let yourself go, Helen-baby! Do what you feel like, and the dirtier the better! She squeezed her breasts and felt a surge of warmth, then grinned ruefully and shook her head. "No, stupid! Not like that!" She unbuttoned her dress from the throat to the waist and shrugged out of it, then struggled out of her bra and squeezed the naked globes. She trembled at the hot flush of pleasure. "Like this!" Teasing her own nipples, she flung back her head and laughed with joy. Her old self would hate the new, but life was going to be another thing when she could give herself without reserve to the sensations that arose around her.
And then there's Smokey! I'll bet he doesn't care if I'm tied up or not! And I'll bet it would be a lot better if I weren't! She swung her bra by its strap and let her dress dangle from where it had settled, riding on her hips. She shivered with a sense of wicked pleasure at the risque picture she made, her boobs swaying, her navel exposed, and most of her lower belly visible as she strode toward the hidden corral and the frustrated little donkey.
She undressed and hung her clothes over the top rail before she went in. "The hell with the gate!" she exclaimed. "More fun to climb over!" She perched astride the rail for a moment, squirming at the harsh intimacy between it and her pussy. The she scrambled down and dug her toes into the organic soil and crossed to the feed table.