Mom's hot lips

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"No!" Vera said stubbornly.

She wrung her hands and paced back and forth. She looked through the living room to the lanai and went over and turned on the pool light with a quick snap. The inviting blueness made the house seem warmer, cozier, more rational and familiar.

"No!" she said again, spinning around to look at Roger.

He drank from a beer can and belched crudely. He looked impenetrably smug and satisfied with himself. "I still say we should sell the whole goddamn works. Not just Loon Key. Everything. He offered to buy it. Let's give him the headaches."

"I won't do it. I won't let those two men drag the Hanson chain to the level of that fuck palace!"

"Mommy, such language," Roger grinned.

"They're fine motels. They have a good name, repeat customers, year after year. Hanson motels are their home away from home."

"Turn off the bullshit, Mom," Roger said. "You sound like one of Dad's commercials. An operation like that can't miss. You charge 'em high for the room. Then extra for the porn movies over the tube instead of regular TV. You'll have more repeat customers than you can handle-young studs with money, instead of old codgers squeezing their nickels to get in a vacation to sunny Florida. We put in a percentage clause, and then Max gets all the work while we lie, back and spend the money. I'm going to vote for selling it to him."

"Roger, you can't!"

"I've got 30 percent, and you've got 30. That's a lot of cash, Mom!" He sucked his beer and looked at her. "Besides, if Max has 18, then all he and I have to do is dig up another 3 percent out of the employees, and there's nothing you or Bundt can say about it. That'll make 51, Mom, and 51 decides it. And I think out of all the employees we can find 3 percent, don't you?" He grinned at her with alarming coldness.

He was right. They wouldn't have any trouble. And all that she and Paul had worked for would be.

She'd done a lot of thinking since yesterday. She hadn't slept much at all last night. There was a cold eye floating above her bed, staring down at her, seeing her, seeing the things she'd done, the insanity of the past week. And now she felt shaky and sober, as if suffering from a hangover after a sexual drunk.

She needed advice. She needed to talk to Thorne before deciding anything, just to get his opinion. Paul had regarded him highly-too highly, maybe, for Roger's good. But she trusted Thorne, too. She wasn't too sure about Jack Cutter. He hadn't told her half what she'd learned from Max and Dancer, and that wasn't right.

The doorbell finally rang. Roger growled and carried his beer over to open it. "What the hell do you want around here?" he grated nastily. "See me during office hours, whiz kid."

Vera jumped up from the couch. "Thorne!" she cried happily.

She felt her pulse quicken as she looked at him standing in the doorway, taking in the clean cut of him, the squarish jaw, the wide chest, the thick pelt of dark hair, neat and trim.

He looked at her with sharp, perceptive blue eyes, and for a quick moment, she felt as she had last night-visible, ashamed. How could she dare hope he would have anything to do with an incestuous slut like her?

"Oh, Thorne…" she cried softly.

Roger stuck out his arm, stopping him from coming into the house. "Hey, where the hell do you think you're going? I didn't say you could see my mother, did I?"

Thorne looked at him, at his arm. "Vera, may I come into your house?" he asked.

"Roger, stop being an ass!" Vera cried.

Roger grinned and dropped his ann. "We went down to the Key yesterday, Bundt. That's real class. Way over your level of appreciation."

Thorne ignored him. He looked at Vera. "I've taken a poll of the employees who own stock, Vera. Most of them are old-timers who started out with Paul, and they think that Loon Key operation is a blight on the good name. They want to get rid of it. I wanted to find out what you and Roger thought."

"Fuck'em," Roger said.

"What do you feel about it, Thorne?"

"I agree with them. I'd go farther. I'd recommend you deal Sawyer straight out, fast."

"Pretty damn assuming, aren't you, whiz kid?" Roger snarled. "You come sucking around here as if you were running the show still, tallying up votes and all that crap. Buddy, you're not running it now, and you can figure on being minus my 30 percent." He rocked on his toes and grinned cockily at Bundt.

"Come to think of it, Bundt, who says your job is running around taking polls? You're supposed to be some kind of glorified bookkeeper. I want you taking polls, I'll tell you and see you're paid. Meanwhile, you can clean out your adding machine and get gone. You're fired as of right now."

"Goddamn you, Roger!" Vera cried.

Thorne looked at him tolerantly, a slight smirk on his face. "I think you're a little confused, Roger. You don't pay me. You didn't hire me, and you can't fire me. No common stockholder can do that. That's for the officers and board members to decide, and right now, you're neither."

Roger balled his fists. "There's a way, Bundt, there's a way. Max will know the way."

"That would be your first bad move, Roger, letting him in. He's slick. He promises gold and delivers mud. He'll peel the skin off your ass so fast you won't know it's gone for a week. That's his specialty, Roger. He's done it to eight companies already."

"Why did Paul have anything to do with him, Thorne?" Vera asked. "I just don't comprehend it."

Thorne sighed. "He needed money, Vera. I advised him against starting the Loon Key unit, but he wanted to build just one more before he retired. Costs went up. He got in a bind. Sawyer bought in. He looked honest, talked fine. Then he started making demands that Paul couldn't refuse. It's a long stow, Vera."

"Retired?" she asked, her voice small.

"His heart. He knew about it a year ago."

She felt hollow inside. "Yes, his heart." God, why hadn't he told her anything?

Thorne looked at Roger. "You don't like me, Roger, and I don't think much of you. But let's forget that. Let's forget things like honor and reputation and good name. Let's just talk money. You vote against Sawyer next week, and it'll pay off much more in the long run."

"Crap," Roger laughed. "All crap. The whiz kid comes over and makes like he knows what he's talking about, like I don't. And that's the way it's always been. You and the old man made sure of that. Well, I'm up to here with it, Bundt. I'm taking over, me and Max, and the first thing I'm going to do is fire your ass out of my life forever!"

Thorne shook his head sadly. "Roger, damn it, you just don't know what you're doing."

"I don't even give a shit, Charlie!" he crowed. "If it fucks you up, I'm going to do it! You want to fight me, then you're on, you son of a bitch!"

Vera was ready to belt him, to pummel him, to beat him senseless. For the first time, she had an appreciation of the frustration Paul had put up with for so many years.

For the first time, she saw him clearly, just as clearly as she'd seen herself last night, and she knew there was no fine man hiding behind the boyish exterior. There was only a big emptiness, brattiness, a compulsion to ruin and spoil.

She shuddered violently, remembering that she had let him fuck her. She had forgiven herself for bringing an animal like Dalton into their house to rape her. She had allowed him to take her to that evil motel, where every perversion she could think of befell her-and even twisted her emotions around to the point where she begged for more of it.

"Oh, Thorne!" she cried suddenly, rushing to him, sobbing openly, clinging to his strong, steady frame. His arms came around her and held her tightly, and they felt good-so damn good!

"Get away from my mother, you bastard," Roger grated.

"Haven't you said enough for one night, Roger?"

"Not near enough, buddy! You know what you're holding there? You know what kind of pussy you got against your prick there? Hot, man, hot! Lemme tell you how hot! Lemme tell you about reputation and honor and all that horseshit."

"Roger!" Vera screamed, feeling herself going slightly hysterical.

She didn't know what might have happened if the bell hadn't rung again. Thorne was holding her tightly. There was a reddish fringe about Roger when she stared at him. She watched him open the door. She saw Joyce and Rainey there. There were reddish fringes about them, too.

"Hey, hey! Look at this!" Roger cackled. "It's a pair of lovelies! See what you're missing out on, Bundt? The fringe benefits Max gives out. Come on in, you beautiful girls!"

Vera looked into Joyce's green eyes. They were mocking her. The pretty smile and the round tits and the pussy she knew was bald-they all mocked her. Rainey slipped gracefully into the house and cast doe eyes on Roger, then slid into his arms. They kissed hungrily, as if they were already alone.

"Well, if it isn't Thorne!" Joyce cried, all bubbly innocence. "We didn't know you'd be here."

"Now, I'll just bet you didn't," Thorne said levelly.

Vera looked at Joyce. She felt as if she'd been hit with a hammer. That wasn't innocence bubbling through her! That was calculated cunning!

Vera shook her head. Everything was coming so clear, so clear. And it was all happening at once. The clarity was frightening. All that yesterday-• every moment of it had been planned. They had used her and used her, just as they'd been using Roger and were going to use him again-trying to buy both of them with sex!

"What do you want here?" Vera demanded.

"Easy, Mom," Roger said, holding Rainey, feeling her lit. "These are my guests. You've got yours, I get mine."

"Why are you looking so grumpy, honey?" Joyce said to Thorne. "You always look grumpy. Don't you get enough pussy? It's not my fault if you don't." She smiled sweetly at Vera. "I was hoping you wouldn't be busy, honey. Mmmm, I came over to see you again. Why don't you tell Mr. Grump to go home?"

Vera shuddered slightly. "Thorne, take me away from here."

Joyce gave an innocent giggle and switched her butt down the hail after Rainey and Roger. She'd done her damage. It was time for fun.

Thorne led Vera onto the lanai. She shut off the lights, leaving them in near darkness. They sat on a glider that hung from a ceiling rafter. A boat slid soundlessly along the cut towards the bay, its running lights soft in the inky night.

"You've gotten the treatment," Thorne said, holding her tightly.

"Don't ask me, Thorne.

"I don't have to, Vera. I already know."

She looked through the dimness at him and felt her heart swell. It had happened to him, too. He knew. He forgave her. "Oh, Thorne!" she cried softly. "Hold me, kiss me! Tell me everything's going to be all right!"

They slid together, their mouths searching and hungry. She was astonished by her abandon with him, and then she didn't care any more.

She felt his hand come to her tit and fondle it, and her pulse raced. It wasn't like the past week. There was so much more. They didn't even have to talk, because each of them felt the same things.

He knew he didn't have to play games, go slow. He angled her down on the glider, and she went willingly, hungrily, feeling her pussy already going slick and damp.

"Ohhhh, Thorne…" she whispered, taking his sturdy body in her arms, making his weight crush her and hold her down so that she wouldn't fly apart.

Thorne tried to lift up after a moment. "Honey, this is no good. They're in there. It'll make it cheap and tawdry."

"No, darling-not cheap. Because it's with you. Don't you understand that? You make it right and good."

"It's not only them, Vera. It's Paul, too. You haven't had enough time-"

"I've had a year, Thorne. I expect you know that, too. And anyway, he's gone. It can't matter to him, Thorne. It only matters to us, and I need you desperately. Oh, darling, hold me and-and fuck me!"

"Vera!" he gasped.

She felt his cock stretch and fill. It pushed into the side of her hip. She reached for it and held it in her hand. It was as solid and good as the rest of him.

"Vera, marry me-tomorrow, 'he gasped.

She nearly laughed. Not cruelly. It just sounded too righteous, even for him. "You can fuck me, Thorne," she said, smiling impishly.

"Oh, God, I want to. I've wanted to for a long long time, Vera. You know that. You know I love you. But it's more than that. We've got to save everything. We both owe it to him, you know that."

"Oh, yes-yes!" she cried happily, flinging her arms around his neck, finding refuge in his strength, freedom from the worries and the decisions.

Her leg stretched down the length of the glider. Her other one dangled over the edge. Her foot slid over the floor as the glider swung gently.

She took his hand brazenly. She put it up under her dress and placed it over her pussy. She lifted her cunt up, tipping it, letting the warmth of his hand wash over her snatch.

"Darling, fuck me, fuck met Don't make us wait any longer. We've-waited long enough, Thorne. Oh, if I hadn't been married to him, darling, you'd have had no rest at all, do you know that?"

"Yes, I felt it. 'I knew it. I'm glad you didn't let us. You were right, Vera. It would have been dirty and cheap while he was still alive. God, God-your cunt's so hot!"

"That's what Roger Said. Oh, Thorne. "Forget what Roger said. Forget whatever's happened to you, Vera. It doesn't matter. It's over. It isn't going to happen any mare. I won't let it,"

"God, fuck me!" she cried in a strained whisper.

She tossed her skirt to her waist, impatient with him. She lifted her rump from the cushioned glider and shoved her panties down and off.

She passed her hand over her pussy and loved the look in his eyes as he stared at the youthful slimness of her body.

"God…" he breathed softly.

He didn't have to be urged any more. He unbuckled his pants and pushed them down. His prick was sturdy and stiff, solid, like all of him. He came over her, pressing against her.

Vera wrapped her leg around his butt and pulled him to her. She lifted and searched with her pussy. She caught the head of his cock in her cunt mouth and let out a moan of joy.

He pressed downward, doing it slowly, letting their first union be smooth and right and full of inch-by-inch awareness and sensation.

"I love you, I love you!" she cried softly, clinging to him.

"I love you, too, darling. Oh, Vera-wonderful! Soft and slick and warm and-just right!"

"It's goad, Thorne. It isn't cheap!"

"A million dollars. Pure gold. Not cheap, darling, not cheap."

Her pussy spasmed and shook. It went frictionlessly slippery as her cunt oils seeped from her pussy wails and bathed his stiff prick, easing his way into her hole.

He reached deep ane held his cock there. His balls were warm and furry in the crack of her ass. She loved it. She loved everything about it. Her pulse hammered violently, and she knew that fucking with him was much, much more than just the tactile thrill of prick in wet pussy.

She felt a slight astonishment with the ease with which she could open herself to him. Not just her pussy. Her whole being. She had loved her husband. But Paul was barely cooled in his grave. Was she that fickle, that unprincipled?

It wasn't quite that way. Thorne was himself, and yet he was an extension of Paul, too. She knew, deep down, that Paul would approve of this.

If he had thought about his heart and the possibility that he might die, he would surely have thought about the man she would take up with next. And she knew he had, thought about Thorne as being the one.

Yes, Paul would approve. Knowing that allowed her to open her pussy wide for him and to give herself to him wholly. Not just the part of herself she had given the others-the use of her cunt. But all her being.

"Thorne… oh, Thorne!" she cried happily, clinging to him, loving his weight against her.

Her pussy walls fluttered and squirmed. They sucked at his trick and drew it in so tightly he could barely fuck in and out of her cunt. When he did, the sensation was excruciating.

"God, Vera…" he gasped.

His hands moved over her body. They felt her tits. They smoothed down the naked sides of her hips and explored her thighs. They cupped under her buttcheeks as he lifted her pussy up around his prick.

His lips came against hers. Their mouths opened, their tongues tangling and probing, tasting of each other. She ran her hands down his broad back, over his firm asscheeks, feeling them move as he pumped his hips and flicked his prick into her cunt.

"God, I wish we were naked. I wish we were somewhere else. Oh, Thorne… darling, I'm going to come. We're flicking here on the glider like two teenagers, and I'm going to come, and I don't even care how many clothes are between us."

"Vera… Vera…" he gasped, his prick bucking and surging stiffly inside her snatch.

"Are you going to come, Thorne? Do you want me to wait? Darling, I love the way you fuck. Ohhhhh, if I'd known how beautifully you hack, I don't think I could have waited."

She babbled on and on. It was a crazy-wonderful thing to do. It felt so good to be able to do it and know that it excited him. She could tell it did by the way his prick jerked and thudded in the depths of her streaming, shaking cunt.

"Thorne?"

"Darling, you don't have to wait for me!" he gasped.

"Are you ready? Ohhhhh, are you ready?"

"F me full, darling! Hose it into me! Fill my pussy with your sperm until it backs up and shoots all over us. God, I'm wanton, aren't I? Thorne… Ohbbhhhh, Thorne!" she wailed tightly.

Her body lifted. Her hips strained upward. Her pussy mouth gobbled and sucked at the root of his prick. She felt suspended in air, three feet above the glider.

It began to swing gently, adding to the sensation of flying that was overtaking her. She held her position rigidly, all her muscles tensed and waiting for the huge crush.

It came. It made her shudder and vibrate. There was a high keening somewhere off in the distance. His lips mashed against hers, and it stopped.

His prick bucked and danced at the back of her cunt. She felt warm pressuring, and she knew his cock was spurting into her. She felt him shudder strongly against her, and then the crush came.

Her whole body wrenched violently. She bellowed throatily against his mouth. Very undignified. Very unlike a mature lady of thirty-eight.

Her pussy drank and drank, not caring. Her tits spiked and swelled against his chest, not caring either. Her ass went rock hard in his hands, and her thighs squeezed tightly about his waist, no part of her caring.

She stopped caring, too, and she bellowed again, clinging to him, shuddering as if she would never stop.

They lay together for a long time, breathing heavily, clinging to each other.

It had been good. Very good. She felt sane again. She felt right. His blast of sperm had been like a cleansing hose, washing the perversion and sailed crud out of her cunt, making it fresh and clean again, making her whole being that way.

Everything would be all right now. She knew it would.