In truth, Eunice was only kidding herself again. Deep down, beneath the level of her conscious thinking, she was secretly pleased with he daughter's sexual misbehavior. Of course she would never have admitted this even to herself, but her voyeurism in the hallway last night had provided her with a terrific vicarious thrill. Her mood this morning was reminiscent of the way she'd given in to her fiance a few days prior to their wedding day.
She'd awakened feeling deliciously naughty. It might be nasty but it was awful nice! she'd thought then, yawning and stretching luxuriously before she'd gotten out of bed, and all the rest of the day she'd been tickled pink with herself for being so sinful and daring as to actually fornicate with her intended before their wedding day.
That day was long forgotten by now, of course, but the emotions it'd aroused in the teenaged Eunice had remained locked away in the back of her mind and, without knowing why or remembering the day itself, Eunice, now a young grandmother of forty-six, was feeling pretty much the same way after having seen her daughter engaging in an illicit sex act.
She felt fresh and vivacious and wondered why, this morning of all mornings, she should have awakened more bright and cheerful and totally alive than she'd felt in perhaps twenty-some-odd years.
Impulsively Eunice pushed back her coffee cup, got up and went to look in on her daughter.
Becky was sound asleep on her back, her legs slightly parted and her arms outspread. She was completely nude. Evidently she'd kicked off the covers during the night, because they were bunched at the foot of the bed.
A smile played over Eunice's face as she stood beside the bed looking down at her grown child. She thought of covering her up but didn't. Even as a little girl Becky had slept in the nude, claiming that any kind of clothing, even a pair of panties, bothered her when she was trying to sleep.
But she wasn't a little girl now. Far from it. Becky was a truly beautiful young woman. The loose, natural curls of her lustrous, honey-blonde hair lay on the pillow in a sunburstlike effect framing the delicate features of her finely chiselled femininely lovely face. The sight of her full, sensuous lips made Eunice recall the scene she'd witnessed in the living room last night. In her mind's eye, she could almost see Becky's red lips clinging to the young man's phallus, skimming rhythmically up and down his shaft as she sucked him off.
Just thinking about it caused Eunice to shiver with a surge of sensual discomfort. Suddenly she was being pulled in two different directions again. One part of her demanded that she shake Becky awake and give her hell for doing such a perverted thing; the other part of her felt more like stealing a kiss from the guilty-of-cocksucking lips of her peacefully sleeping daughter. Eunice did neither. She merely hugged herself in the frustration of her indecision.
For a moment she stood there admiring the flawless skin and perfect proportions of Becky curvaceous body, then she moved down to the foot of the bed and looked up between her long gracefully tapering legs.
Becky's pussy had a pouty, perpetually hungry look about it. Its labia majora were fuller than Eunice's, and they had a coral rather than brownish hue to them. Several tendrils of surrounding pubic hair, a shade darker than Becky's honey-blonde tresses, were stuck to her groin with a mixture of dried male and female sexual secretions.
Again Eunice shivered. Although she hadn't seen her daughter having intercourse with the strapping young man, she'd heard their pleasured outcries faintly and could visualize that huge prick of his thrusting in and out of Becky's elated mound. It'd surely happened, for the dried cum on her crotch left no doubt that she'd been screwed.
Becky, you're a shameless hussy, Eunice said to herself. I know full well that I ought to take a belt to you. So why, damn it to hell, do I feel like hugging you instead of punishing you for the despicably immoral way you carried on last night?!
Just then Buster started barking at the back door and, remembering that she hadn't reminded Reed to feed the seemingly forever hungry Great Dane before she'd sent him off to school, Eunice went to do it herself, although she didn't care for animals and it went against her grain when she had to feed or water this dumb horse of a dog.
Eunice had finished her housework, gone to market, had her lunch and was watching her favorite soap opera on TV when she heard Becky come out of her room and enter the bathroom. The program was over by the time Becky had taken her shower. When her daughter came into the kitchen, looking a bit bleary-eyed and sheepish, Eunice was pouring coffee for both of them.
"Thanks, Mom." Becky slid in on one side of the breakfast nook and lit a cigarette.
"Would you like me to fix you something to eat?"
"Huh-uh, this is fine for now, thanks," Becky said, and picked up her coffee. She took a sip, blew on it and took another. When she noticed her mother was still standing, looking at her with peculiar expression on her face, she glanced up and asked: "Anything wrong?"
Eunice sat down then, across from her daughter. "You tell me," she said, looking Becky directly in the eye.
"Huh-oh," Becky said. "I was afraid we were making too much noise. You heard us, didn't you?"
"I didn't mean to," Eunice lied.
"I'm sorry, Mom."
"Who was the young man?"
"You wouldn't know him," Becky said, and let it at that because she was ashamed to tell her mother that she didn't know Jack's last name. "You're not going to start in on me, are you?"
Eunice said nothing.
"Because I didn't mean for anything like that happen. It just did, that's all."
"You sound like you're proud of it."
Averting her gaze, Becky shook her head. She took a deep drag from her cigarette and exhaled with a sigh. "I'm not proud of it, but I'm not apologizing either. Shit, Mom, what's the use talking about it? You'd never understand in a million years. I couldn't help it, but it won't happen again. Not in your house, at any rate. Let's leave it go at that, okay?"
"All right."
"Huh?" Becky did a double take. She couldn't believe that she was going to get off without least a stern lecture, many of which she'd endured in her teens. But she did, and, to Becky's surprise her mother didn't mention the matter again.
CHAPTER FOUR
They watched TV that evening after Becky left for work. Reed was on and off the couch a dozen times. For the most part, he lay on the floor as eight-year-olds are wont to do, staring at the TV with his elbows in the carpet and his chin cupped in his hands.
"Make up your mind and light some place," Eunice kept telling him.
He wanted popcorn and she told him no. He wanted potato chips and she told him they didn't have any. He wanted a sandwich and she told him absolutely not, reminding him that it'd been his idea for the two of them to go on a diet and try to lose some of their excess weight.
"But I'm hungry!" he finally wailed. "We didn't have no bread or potatoes or no dessert either!"
"No, and we're not going to be having those things for a while. They're too fattening," she said. "We had plenty of vegetables and good, lean meat. Now hush."
But he kept begging for something to eat, and finally she relented up to a point, because he was making her hungry, too.
"All right," she said, getting up out of the recliner that'd been her husband's favorite chair. "I suppose we'll have to let our stomachs shrink gradually, but we're going to be sensible about our snacks from now on."