Chapter 11

Pam had mixed feelings as she watched her son perform on the basketball court.

She was enormously proud of him, but every time that she looked just a couple of rows away at an admiring Daisy Barnes who was watching him every bit as starry eyed as she was, it made her feel resentful of the young girl.

In addition to feeling resentful toward Daisy, Pam couldn't help but feel disappointed about her son having engaged in a sex orgy with Daisy nude in the backyard swimming pool.

Thoughts continued to flash in her mind about the swimming pool episode, and the longer she thought about it, the more frustrated the whole thing made her feel.

She found herself observing Daisy about as often as she was watching her son, and the longer she focused her eyes on Daisy, the greater the degree of resentment that began to build within her entire body.

The basketball game was going particularly well, with her son's team winning easily. Harold was having one of his finest games, and every time that he made a difficult shot, the rooting section would burst into loud applause. She only wished that she could feel the same kind of unrestrained exuberance that everybody else was feeling, but it was impossible for her to feel that way. She was too frustrated over what was happening between her son and Daisy Barnes, and having Daisy sitting not that far from her made matters appear all the more frustrating.

The game finally came to an end, and she left the stands, waiting for her son outside the dressing room.

Charles had driven her to the game while he was on his way back to his office. He told her to express his regrets over the fact that he was unable to see the game. It bothered him that he would have to go back to work, but it made him feel good to know that his wife was able to observe her son in action.

As Harold came walking out of the dressing room, she observed Daisy Barnes come running toward him.

"Oh, darling, what a great game," she swooned. "Please kiss me, honey."

"Gladly, sweetheart"

Now Pam's face was reddening with anger as she watched her son deliver a smoldering kiss to Daisy's lips.

Several of Harold's team mates walked past, observing the kissing lovers with great interest.

Pam was smoldering as she watched them continue to kiss. She didn't like being in that awkward predicament, where other people could observe her there watching her son kiss Daisy.

It was Harold who finally released his lips from Daisy's.

"That was quite a kiss," he said, still not observing his mother standing not far away.

"That's for a winner. You deserve a kiss like that, baby, playing the kind of game you did."

"Thank you, darling. I love you for that."

"Let's go have a hamburger," she suggested.

"That would be fine."

At that point Pam decided that she would intervene. It made her angry to hear Daisy propositioning her son for a date.

"Excuse me," she said abruptly.

"Oh, hi, Mrs. Murray," Daisy smiled.

"Mom, I didn't see you," Harold grinned crookedly.

"Wasn't that a great game that he played ? "' Daisy looked at Pam and smiled. "He was really great. He couldn't have been any better."

"Right now I'm not in the mood to talk about basketball," Pam snapped. "I need a ride home, Harold."

"Oh, gee, Mom, you don't mind if I take Daisy along? I was going to take her out."

"You see, your father dropped me off," Pam said, obviously nettled. "Now I need a ride home. I didn't think that you had other plans."

"But you don't mind if Daisy rides along, do your

"That's o.k., Harold," Daisy smiled, a bit uncomfortably. "I can find a way home with friends. You take your mother home."

"I hope that I'm not inconveniencing you, Harold," Pam said sarcastically.

"Gosh no, Mom, it's just that I didn't realize you'd need a ride home."

"I'm sorry that my car happens to be tied up in the garage today. If I had known it would have been this kind of a problem, believe me, I wouldn't even come," she began raising her voice.

"Look, I don't want to be any bother," Daisy said, backing away. "I'll see you later, Harold."

"Look, Daisy, I'll meet you over at your place after I drop Mom off."

"O.K., fine. Nice seeing you, Mrs. Murray."

Pam ignored Daisy, deliberately turning her head away so that she would not even acknowledge Daisy's closing smile.

"Let's go," Pam snapped.

"Gosh, Mom. Whatever is causing you to act like this?"

"I don't like that little slut," Pam exploded.

"Don't call her that," he replied quickly. "I happen to think an awful lot of Daisy."

"That's highly unfortunate for you. It doesn't demonstrate very much in the way of good taste on your part."

"That's a low blow."

"No, it's not a low blow at all. It just happens to be a truthful statement." "It is not"

"Don't think that it didn't make me angry standing there while you were kissing that girl." "I didn't see you."

"Would it have made any difference if you had?"

"Certainly it would," he said.

They got into the car and he drove off.

Harold was now obviously upset over the manner in which his mother had been talking to him.

"I was beginning to wonder if you weren't more concerned about her than you were me," Pam said. "As a matter-of-fact, I think I've come to a conclusion. You are more interested in her than you are in me. As unfortunate as that is."

"What makes you say that?"

"The way you've been acting. You wanted her to ride along. I don't care to ride home with her."

"What have you got against her? I thought that she acted very sweet to you. I was sorry to see you act so rude. She's a sensitive girl and I know that it shook her up."

"I'm so sure that it did," Pam burst into sarcastic laughter. "That will be the day when you shake that little scum up."

"I said I don't like what you're saying," Harold snapped. "She's not scum. As a matter-of-fact, I think I love her."

"That's absolute insanity."

"Think what you like, Mom. I think a lot of that girl."

"What would you do if I told you that I saw something the other day?" Pam turned on him, staring at him spitefully as he continued driving down the street.

"What did you see?"

"I saw that disgusting spectacle when you two were sloshing around in the water naked."

Now he suddenly turned pale and his fingers began to tremble. He was barely able to control himself enough to continue his driving.

"I don't know what you mean," he shook his head. "What did you think?"

"Don't play dumb with me, young man. I saw you having sex with that girl. You both acted like you were pretty drunk. What were you two on?"

"We had a few drinks." "Oh, really?"

"Yeah. What does that hurt?"

"Did you have any grass?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"Because it's the type of thing that I think she would probably do. You and that terrible girl."

"Yes, we had some grass," he admitted.

"I thought so. Was it your idea?"

"Yes, it was my idea," he said unconvincingly.

"No, it wasn't, you liar. It was her idea. It was her idea, wasn't it?"

"I'm not answering."

"You as good as answered," Pam said. "Sure, she got you drinking and smoking pot. But yet you defend her right to the letter. You say that she's a fine girl and you think that you are in love with her."

"I don't claim she's perfect," he exclaimed. "I don't claim that at all. But, gosh, Mom, she is awfully sweet to me, and she's so pretty."

"Beautiful women have been the cause of ruination of many men throughout history." Pam observed. "So don't be telling me that she's pretty. That isn't saying one solitary thing about her human characteristics."

"Well, take it from me. She's a good gal."

"Right now I wouldn't be willing to take much of anything from you," Pam replied. "I'm disgusted over the way you've been acting. You've been acting in a very disgusting manner. As a matter-of-fact, I'm at a loss to say much of anything to you at this point."

"Go easy on me, Mom. I'm not perfect. Nobody's perfect. Not Daisy, not me, not even you."

"I never claimed to be perfect," Pam said, "but if there's one thing I always possess it's a certain degree of self-respect. You never caught your mother acting cheap, and you've never heard anything about anybody saying anything to that effect. No, my dear, I don't act that way. I don't believe in that type of thing and when I see a young girl that dresses the way that Daisy does and acts the way that Daisy does, I can't help but get sickened at my stomach. That's the way I feel about this whole thing, and nothing is going to change my mind."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," he shook his head sadly.

"Yes, it is tragic, isn't it? For you, anyway."

A still rattled Harold pulled the car into the driveway.

They got out of the car and entered the house.

As Pam sat down on the sofa and looked at her son soberly, he turned away and walked nervously toward the door.

"I did say that I was going to meet Daisy," he said.

"I heard you."

"Then I guess I'd better be going. I don't know what time I'll be back, so you and Dad can go ahead and have dinner without me."

"Come back here," she exploded. "Come back here and sit down."

"Why are you talking to me like this?" he slid into a chair. "I'm not ten years old anymore."

"You act like you're about six rather than sixteen," she exploded. "I'm very disgusted over the way you are acting, young man. I thought you had so much class. Then you had to go ahead and disappoint me by going with somebody like Daisy."

"Who should I be going with?" he asked sarcastically.

"When I set about to give you a few suggestions, you told me that I was prying into your business."

"I definitely believe that," he nodded. "Yeah, that's right, that's absolutely right. But just the same, I reacted out of anger right now. I just wondered just who you would be suggesting."

"Do you want to hear some names?"

"Go ahead."

"There's Anna Marks, for one."

"We just don't hit it off."

"Maybe because you never tried."

"Maybe because she just doesn't happen to turn me on."

"But Daisy does, of course," Pam said sarcastically. "I guess water does seek its own level."

"You're making some sarcastic remarks."

"I think it's about time somebody tried to straighten you out."

"I'm sick of this," he shook his head. "I'm leaving."

"Please don't," she exclaimed, suddenly beginning to sob.

"What's wrong, Mom? I mean, it hurts me to have you acting this way."

"Oh, it hurts me to do it too," she said. "Come here, darling."

He sat down next to her on the sofa. As he looked into her misty eyes, he couldn't help but be impressed by her beauty.

He recalled how impressed Daisy said she was with Pam. The longer he looked at his mother, the more beautiful she appeared.

She was just a shade younger than forty, but you never would know it to look at her. She had a stunning youthful air about her that he couldn't help but find fascinating.

Now he reached out and was holding onto her. He was letting his arms slip around her waist.

"Oh, you look so beautiful," he exclaimed.

His heart began to pound unaccountably, and he couldn't help but wonder just what was happening to him.

Now he leaned his head forward and delivered a devastating kiss to her lips.

He had kissed his mother before, but never like this. This was a highly impassioned kiss, the kind that he generally reserved for Daisy.

Their lips continued to lock for several long seconds, after which he finally broke their kiss.

He looked into her eyes.

"Oh, Mom."

She swooned, after which he reached with his right hand inside her blouse.

Now he was running his fingers against her breasts, squeezing them with great eagerness. He had to admit that they were even better breasts than Daisy's, a little bigger and a little more firm.

Back and forth he let those fingers slip against her breasts, and as he did so, she began to quiver.

"Oh, Harold, it feels so good," she gasped. "I can't get over it, honey, oh, it feels so good when you move those fingers around my breasts."

"I know, it feels so great to me too. I can't get over it. It's such a wonderful sensation. Oh, it's so nice, so very nice. I can't help but feel good running my fingers around your breasts."

Pam knew that what was happening was wrong, but she felt powerless to change the course of action that was developing as they sat next to each other on that sofa.

Those fingers kept on working ever so eagerly as he let them go to work on her breasts.

"Oh, let's go in the other room," she finally exclaimed.

"What other room, Mom?"

"Let's go into the bedroom. My bedroom."

"O.K., anything you say," he exclaimed.

They got up from the sofa slowly, walking into her bedroom arm in arm.

They were both in the midst of a trance, unable to fully fathom what was transpiring between them.