Chapter 10
PITY WITH PASSION
Mrs. Sinclair stopped her narrative. She just sat for a few minutes looking out the window. Then she spoke again.
"Tom, I married him. And we had three wonderful months. Then," she stopped, choking back the tears, "he died. He was too young. It wasn't fair. We were driving home one night.
"It was a wet rainy night and I was driving. We'd been out in the country seeing some friends. Something flashed across my headlights. I hit the brakes.
"He went through the windshield, killed instantly. By the next month, I knew I was pregnant." She sighed.
"What did you do after that?" he asked.
"We were married in a synagogue. I had gotten a job and we lived in a tiny apartment near school. His parents didn't have much money, either. In fact, his father was ill and his mother worked to pay the bills.
"After Joey died, I moved in with them until the baby came. I worked for a while but not after I began showing. When Velma was just a couple of months old, I went back to work.
"I met a nice man there-my late husband-I married him. And he died eight years ago of cancer."
"Oh, god!" was all he could say. She had talked a lot at work and he had felt sorry for her then. But she had never mentioned these things before. He wanted to help. She needed help, but he did not know how or what to do.
"Have you ever told Velma about this?"
"No."
"Why not? She might understand better if you did."
"I don't want her to know because it's such a mess. Anyway, it's all so long ago. Joey's parents are both dead. And I haven't seen or heard from my family since that night. I wouldn't know how to contact them now."
He put his arm more tightly around her and hugged her closely to him. He reached down and lifted her chin with his hand. They kissed, long and coolingly. He knew only one way to help her-that was to fuck her.
He felt her body responding to his body. She was kissing him back now. Their tongues fought for possession of each other's mouths, with Tom winning, as usual. She always put up the struggle, and he always won.
She forgot all about her past experiences and relaxed, totally enjoying herself. She felt his hands roaming all over her body, and then carefully going up under her blouse, pulling it from her waistband. He unsnapped her bra and brought his hand all the way up to her neck unhindered.
He dropped his hand to her waistband and began unfastening her slacks, while she put her hand on his cock and began rubbing it. She felt it stiffen under her massaging fingers. He moaned excitedly.
Suddenly, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. Once inside, he laid her on the bed and continued stripping her. He unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her breasts.
Pulling down her loosened bra, he exposed them fully. He grabbed two handfuls of tit flesh and squeezed hard. She moaned with the exotic pleasure as she went back to working on his cock.
He felt her hand pulling at his belt. Then she had it undone, and went on working with his pants, unzipping them. Finally, she pulled the elastic of his jockey shorts down, exposing his hardness which sprang erect and waved free in the air. She grasped it with her hand, working on it.
He stripped her naked and placed his right hand against her pussy. She spread her legs slightly. He bent down and sucked on her naked breast, leaving his other hand still gripping one tit. He pulled on the nipple with his teeth, biting it gently and sucking on it until it was hard.
Then he turned to the other one, repeating the same process. Slowly, he began to rub his hand up and down across her pussy, feeling the harshness of hair and the soft moistness of vulnerable cunt.
Then he poked his index finger into her twat. As it was unexpected, she jumped just a little, her grip tightening on his cock. He stiffened even more at that.
"Screw!" she whispered hoarsely.
He decided it was time. Releasing her tits and twat, he climbed up on the bed. She spread her legs and he started to move into her thighs. "Wait a minute," she said. "Let's try something new."
"What?"
"You lie down on your back and I'll straddle you."
He raised his eyebrows, but stretched out beside her. Sitting up, she swung her leg over his hips, bringing it down on the bed kneeling.
She took his prick in her hand and, raising herself up, she hung suspended over his pecker. The tip of his ramrod barely touched the opening of her twat. Suddenly, she relaxed her legs and impaled herself on his organ.
She screamed as she fell on him and then bounced back up, almost coming off him. Now she began riding him, rising and falling on his groin.
She kept up a slow steady pace, which he wanted to move faster and faster. So, he reached up and took hold of her tits again.
As he played with them, squeezing and flattening them, she began moving faster. She was pumping up and down on him furiously now. He could barely make out her face, but it seemed to him that she had a grim expression of joy on her features.
Finally, he released her tits, running his hands down her sides and across her thighs. She was so far gone that she did not notice, so he took them back and put them behind his head. Lying back, he let her do all the work. Slowly, he felt himself gathering for orgasm.
Suddenly, she screamed again. "Now! Now!" He realized that she was going into orgasm. Just as he felt the first of her flooding explosion, his cock burst within her with such force that he could not help but arch under it.
So they met somewhere just off the bed with a resounding wet slap of flesh on flesh. He felt cool liquid falling across his skin on its way to the sheets, so he knew she'd come as well as he. Again, he convulsed. And again. And for the fourth time, too.
Then she stopped jumping and he felt her inner muscles taking over as she squeezed on his pecker to remove the last tiny drops of scum. Tired, she put her arms before her and rested her palms on his nipples, rotating the flesh beneath. The sensations plus her pressure on his prick began to stiffen him again.
Yanking herself up off him, she supported herself against him with her ass in the air. "This time," she commented, "I'll take it in the ass."
Shifting slightly, making him grunt as the air was forced out of his lungs, she positioned herself over his once again stiff prick at the ass.
"I can't do it alone." She looked at him.
He took his hands from behind his head and gripped her under the armpits. He felt the tender skin in there. He gripped hard to hold her up while she spread her cheeks with her hands.
Then, she lowered her asshole until it touched his waving head. She hesitated, took a deep breath, and fell down on him.
This time, it was he who yelled as he let go of her. He stuck for a second in her ass and the dry flesh lubricated only after pulling the skin on the head enough to cause a slight irritation and pain.
But she and gravity were relentless. Slowly, as she forced herself down, she swallowed him into her ass. But it was an awkward position to begin with, for her feet were drawn up and she could not pump easily. She decided to change.
"I'm going to turn around on you. Hold still." He did and she did.
Slowly, she levered herself around on him, grinding herself in deeper. "Spread your legs." He spread them and she crouched down between them. Now she was able to get enough leverage to shove her ass up and down on his tool.
Reaching down, he put a hand, palm inward, on each side of her hips. Steadying her, he helped her to rock up and down on his prick. Mostly he just lay there enjoying the whole thing.
He felt himself gathering again. The scum got together in the base of his balls, for the passage up the tubes and out into her asshole. Slowly, it gathered steam as it roiled majestically up and into the head, where it burst forth in unsteady streams.
So tight was the ass muscle that none of it escaped. All went deep inside of her colon. As it burned him, so it burned the virgin flesh of her colon, sealing it forever with that memory of searing scum.
She screamed for the third time, and this one did not stop. It went on and on and on until Tom thought his ears would snap. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, he grabbed her and cruelly pulled her backwards onto his chest. He brought his hand across her mouth, stopping the noise.
Unfortunately, he was too late. The door opened and Velma stood in the doorway. She snapped on the lights and saw them both-Tom fucking her mother's ass.
She just stood there staring at them. "The slut and her gigolo," she finally said. She spoke in a calm cold voice.
"Do as you say not as you do. Is that how it goes, dear cock-sucking mother? You-both of you stink!" She turned from the two astonished adults and walked out, closing the door behind her. Almost as fast as she left, they heard a door slam.
"Velma! Velma!" She leaped from the bed and the limping cock to throw herself against the door. Wrenching it open she raced naked to the front door.
But seeing the chain still across the door, she turned and went to her daughter's closed door. She turned the handle. It turned but would not open.
"Velma! Velma! Open this door. Darling, please. Let me explain! Velma!"
"Go back to your lover, mother. There's nothing you can say that makes any difference. You're a bitch who's always in heat and I've got to live with it.
"You have no morals and no honor. I'll get used to the parade after a while. But I want no more part of those mother-fucking bastards. You can have them all." She said no more.
Mrs. Sinclair screamed her daughter's name over and over. She pounded on the door. She pleaded. It was all in vain. She got no answer. There was nothing more to be said, like Velma said.
Sobbing, she collapsed against the door, slowly sliding down to the floor. She did not really feel the two hands that touched her, nor the arms that lifted her up, nor did she know how or when she reached her bed. But she woke as if from a horrible dream there the next morning. She was alone.
In fact, until she saw her daughter's frozen face, she did think she had dreamed it. Seeing that suddenly old fourteen-year-old face staring coldly at her, she knew that it all had happened.
"Do you want to talk about it, Velma?"
"I don't care."
"But I do. I want you to know the truth-all of the truth." Velma sat down at the table with a cup of coffee. Her mother went to pour herself one. Coming back to the table, she sat down across from her daughter. "In the first place, you're real last name is... " And when she finished, Velma sat thinking for a long time. "I think, that is, I would like to try to trace down our family. Surely, there must be some way. Do you think you might like to look for them?"
Alicia shook her head. "No," she sighed. "It's all so long ago. Of course, if you want-really truly want-to meet them, we'll see what can be done."
"Yes, I do." She smiled a little. "We needn't tell them all about us." She stretched her hand to her mother's hand lying across the table.
"What you do is your affair. And what I do is your affair until I come of age. Anyway, I sort of liked Tom. Mind you, I can't take back those things I said last night. I know you can't do that. What's said is said. But if you need Tom, then you need him."
Alicia looked at her daughter. She tried to comprehend this attitude in her fourteen-year-old. She was not sure whether her daughter was trying to apologize or whether she was saying she did not care what her mother did because she did not love her.
Alicia never did really find out, for her daughter never referred to it again and never treated her mother either ill or lovingly again. She always stayed rather indifferent to her-helpful if possible-but indifferent.