Chapter 12
Dan became obsessed with the whore Morella, with her dyed red hair and her big swatch of black pussy hair. The jarring colors fore and aft made her seem like two women, emphasizing the identification he forged between her and the vanished Lorna. As long as he was with Morella, Lorna had not gone away, she was still with him, and he was not a little boy alone in his room with his parents down the hall, waiting to hear him screw his wife.
She would not come to the house no matter how much money he offered her. He plagued her with his pleadings and she screeched at him and stamped her feet, even slapped him and raked her sharp nails over his skin, but he only adored her more when she hurt him.
He was fascinated with everything about her, even her name. At first he supposed it was merely a Portuguese name, but then he remembered a story entitled "Morella" by Edgar Allan Poe that he had had to read in an English class in college. He reread it with heart-pounding, delicious fear. It too served his need to think of the Portuguese whore as two women.
In the story, Morella is darkly beautiful like the whore, but she is also elegant and cultivated and well-educated like Lorna. Poe's Morella had delved deeply into philosophy and evolved a theory that no one ever dies. Over and over again Dan read the story, underlining the words of Poe:
"The notion of that identity which at death is or is not lost forever was to me, at all times, a consideration of intense interest."
The words brought Lorna closer to him, made it easier for him to pretend that the whore and she were one and the same woman.
Everything about the story supported his desperate need to resurrect his absent wife. Morella marries and has a daughter but dies of childbirth. As she lies on her deathbed she accuses her husband of loving her for her mind alone, and not her body. She wills the child to him, saying:
"Her whom in life thou didst abhor, in death thou shalt adore."
Her prophecy comes true. The daughter grows up to look exactly like her mother. The father, seeing this, can't bear to give her a name, because the only name he wishes to call her is that of her dead mother. For years he calls her only 'my daughter' until at last, when she is grown, he takes her to the church to have her christened. As soon as he gives the minister the name 'Morella', a voice from the burial vault cries out, 'I am here!'
His daughter dies at the sound of the dead mother's voice. The father rushes to the vault and looks in, but it's empty. The story ends with the words:
"I found no traces of the first in the vault where I laid the second beloved Morella."
In Dan's mind there came to exist two Morellas, and two Lornas, both in the same woman. He bought the whore a lovely cashmere coat with a fur lining and collar. It was this extravagant gift that finally persuaded her to come home with him.
He picked a day when he knew his parents would be out, yet he hoped, in the secret part of his mind that was now fevered with guilt and hatred, that they would come back and find him there with a Portuguese whore.
He pulled her over to his desk, the old desk at which he had done his homework as a boy, and fucked her standing up. She knew just what to do. She put her foot up on the desk and drew him into her. His blood-engorged cock trailed through her slit and nestled into her throbbing vaginal entrance. She bent her body backwards and drove the hard shaft of his maleness into the kinky bush of her cunt, then rubbed her heaving tits against his chest as she twisted her hips against his groin. Her pussy was tight in the upright position and he shoved his dick into the wet, pinching briar patch with loud howls of pleasure. It didn't matter how much noise he made now!
He sucked on her tits with noisy abandon, lifting them in his hands and burrowing in their soft tawniness as he jabbed his aching cock into her oozing slice.
"Oooooh, honey, you're really fucking now! You're a hot boy today! Eeeeeeeeeee, suck it, baby!"
"Louder!" he shouted. "Let me hear it!"
"Ahhhhh, it's so hard in meeeee!" she shrieked. "I love to get my pussy around your meat, big boy!"
She clutched her streaming gash around the tip of his stiff swollen penis and let out a long, shuddering scream. He poked it in hard and whipped it in and out of her box. She snatched wildly at it and he plowed like a bull up into her raised leg, stabbing her cunt in horrendous thrusts that nearly sent her tumbling backwards onto the desk.
"You can move your ass like nothing I ever dreamed of, my whore-bitch!" he gasped. "I never want to take my meat out of you!"
A dark thrill leaped in him as he heard his own and her shrieks and groans. She wiggled her crotch wildly, grinding her wet bush against his driving loins in wet, swacking heaves. His prick collided mercilessly with her cervix, pummeling it into a flexing response. Her face twisted and her nails raked his back, his chest, his shoulders.
He picked her up by her well-muscled bottom and held her in front of him like a tray, his cock still snuggled hotly in her box. She wrapped her legs around his waist and hugged his ass with them. Her head lolled back and her long, garishly dyed hair whipped back and forth like a sail as she bounced and jiggled herself in the sling of his arms. Her ass was in a frenzy of movement, it clenched powerfully as the big thick prick lunged in and out of her hair-strewn snatch. They stood before a full-length mirror on the back of the closet door and Dan could see everything in their reflection. Morella's densely fringed cunt lips were stretched like a ravenous mouth around his erect pink stick. Her pussy glistened with lubricious female fluids, the loose folds of her banks were engorged with excitement.
He fingered her crack and found her throbbing anal ring. She squealed as he played around in her bung.
"Stick it up there, honey! That makes the fuck even better! Oooooh, play in my asshole!"
Dan, looking in the mirror, thrust his longest digit into her hair-sprouting crack and watched it disappear into her hungry rectum until he was buried knuckle-deep in the seething, ropey channel. His fat balls swatted against ass and finger each time he drove his cock up into her vagina. Her corn hole nibbled and suckled on his finger and he could feel his own tool through the thin membrane that separates a woman's cunt from her bung.
"Goddddddd, you're fucking my insides out of me! You're a bull today, honey, a hot charging bull!"
He walked with her, still joined crotch-to-crotch, and dumped her on the bed. He fell down on top of her and fucked into her as she wrapped her long brown legs around his ribs and slid her knees over his shoulders. Her box opened wide to its usual generous proportions and he ground his prick deep. The inner sides of her thighs burned his flesh as she embraced him in them. He scooped up her buttocks and held her rolling ass high. His hot, hairy sack ached with boiling semen and throbbed each time it slapped against her buns. His fingers kneaded and pinched her and she screeched. His own moans and grunts mingled with her shrill sounds until the room sounded like a rutting barnyard. It made up for all the silent, moribund fucking he had done in this room with Lorna! How he wished he could make a dirty movie with his wife! He'd strap a miniature camera to his prick if they had such a thing, then everyone could see those cushiony wet cunt walls up close.
He slipped his wet dong out of her pussy and jammed it against her bushy crack.
"I want to finish in your ass, baby! Turn it up high for me."
"Ummmmm, you like my dirt road, huh honey? I got a nice big one you can fuck without hurting, honey."
Her asshole pulsated against the tip of his cock. He shoved in and felt the firm musculature clamp over him. She rolled him expertly up her bung, sucking him in. He pushed and grunted his way into her bowel and mauled it with fierce fucking strokes and pulls as she screamed in pretended agony. Her feet kicked wildly around his neck; she was almost rolled double, her ass hanging off the edge of the mattress as he slammed his cock into it.
He spurted heavily and copiously into her nether channel, then again, until finally it was all in her; dripping out and smearing her fuzzy crack. He sank weakly on her and left his throbbing whang in her until it fell out, withered and shrunken from her greedy ass.
He got down on his knees and stared adoringly into her smeary, sex-swollen crotch. His head darted forward into the black-haired tangle of femaleness. His tongue entered her gaping vagina and licked hungrily at the salty fluids that poured from it. He sighed and buried his face in pussy, a warm, wet, sluggish after-sex pussy that did not move and jerk in ecstasy and thus escape him. He loved to eat her cunt after he fucked her. She kept still for him and let him taste and lick to his heart's content. His tongue snaked through her inner lips and circled over her clit. Her wiry black hair grew up around his face like a big dark beard but still he wanted to get closer to her spongy gash. He rubbed his nose and mouth against the dark, pink-gray skin and drank the briny stuff that came out of her. At first she would not let him muff-dive; that was special, she said, only her boy friend could do it to her for free. All others had to pay, because if she did it for free she would enjoy it, and thus be untrue to Jorge. Now, she let Dan lick her cunt, but only after she had fucked, when she wouldn't feel the temptation of his lips and tongue on her.
Suddenly she sat up. Her thighs closed over his face and head, their muscles hard with tension.
With her legs around his ears, blotting out all sound, he had not heard what she had.
She pushed him away and sprang up, then made a dash for her clothes.
"Somebody's coming!" she hissed. "They're home!"
She ran to the closet, her arms full of frilly underwear, sleazy satin and long black hose. Dan stood helplessly for a moment as he heard his parents' voices, then quickly straightened the bedspread that they had fortunately not bothered to turn down. He grabbed a dressing gown and put it on just as his mother's step sounded on the stairs.
"Dan? I saw your car. What are you doing home at this hour?"
She came into the room and looked around. He gathered the robe tighter around his body and sat down on the bed.
"I worked till three last night. I'm bushed. I knocked off and came home for a nap."
She rallied with offers of soup, cold pills, tea, but he waved her away.
"Please, Mother, don't fuss over me. All I want to do is sleep. I'm not sick."
She studied him intently, her head cocked to one side.
"You look flushed. Are you sure you don't have a fever?"
She came to the bed and put her hand on his brow. He held his breath as she put her cheek next to his. It was her favorite way of judging whether or not he was feverish; she always said that the hand told nothing because it was too insensitive. Only cheek-to-cheek tests were a reliable thermometer.
He wondered if she had a motive for such medicinal closeness. She needed an excuse for anything she did; was this any different? Was this her way of embracing her own son under the guise of maternal solicitousness? Her cheek felt soft against his. She was really a very pretty woman for fifty-four, and she had a good shape still. His cock leaped up and he covered the lump in his lap with his arms.
"Well, if you want me, just call," she said worriedly.
She shut the door softly behind her. There was no lock on it, but that only made it better. He would take a chance this way; she could come in at any time to see how he was getting along. . . .
'Well, let her see!
He went to the closet and pulled Morella out of it. She was terrified as only a whore can be in the presence of respectability and decent women. Her face and the expression in her eyes were stiff and stunned. She looked as though she had swallowed a marble.
"She's gone, come out and get in bed with me," he laughed.
Her black eyes widened with incredulity. She began to hiss in Portuguese, her head shaking wildly.
"I said come on. She won't be back, don't worry."
He piled into bed and pulled her down beside him. She was shivering so badly with fright that he drew the covers over them both. Underneath, his hands roved over her naked flesh. This was the way it should have been with himself and Lorna; naked in bed together in the middle of the afternoon if they felt like it. Even at night, he was always afraid to strip down for fear that something . . . something might happen. He did not know what; a fire, an emergency of some kind that would mean running out of the room where his parents could see' him and his wife, see by their bare legs under robes that they had been naked together. He always screwed Lorna under her nightgown because of it, under her nightgown and through his pajama fly.
And they did it quietly.
And they did it at night.
He wanted a different kind of fucking, wild, brawling, abandoned. But he also wanted something to remind him of Lorna. If he kept the covers up to their necks like this, all he would see was the long red hair spread out like a fan on the pillow. Morella was too frightened to yell now. She would be like Lorna used to be; whispery, soft, restrained.
He murmured to her.
"My stick's up again, I've gotta get rid of this hard, baby. They won't hear us, don't worry. But I can't wait, darling, I have to get this meat in the oven fast."
She rolled her eyes wildly but she reached down obediently and touched his throbbing cock. Her fingers slid up and down his shaft and pinched his tip. She rubbed it against her wiry triangle of hair and dipped it into her slippery cunt lips.
"He wants in, sweetheart. He's big as a pole and hot to go. Roll over and spread for me."
She got On her back and Dan ran his hands over her boobs as he climbed between her legs. He lay in her open crotch with his prick stuck down into her gash, both hands busy with the succulent dark nipples. He plucked them and took them in his teeth for little nibbles that made her whimper. He sucked harder and louder on the juicy teats but she pushed his head away and said "Shhhh! They'll hear you."
His heart leaped. She was one smart whore! That's exactly what he wanted her to say, exactly what he needed to remind him of Lorna.
He kept his hands cupped on her tawny brown-tipped knockers while he lifted his hips and positioned his jutting cock over her spread-out pussy. It was waiting for him down there under the covers, a humid little slice ready to be pronged. Danger and fear had done its work and added a new thrill to their fucking; Morella was hot again.
Eat, drink and fuck, for tomorrow we die.
He lowered his prick into her cunt entrance and screwed it into her quivering hole. He sank into her womanliness with a low groan of delight. The burning thighs captured his flexing hips and held him in their satiny vise. He sank into the clutching wetness of her slot and pressed his cock head against her cervix. Her back arched up under him and she wriggled her pussy against his jock hair. She rubbed her clit against the hilt of his prick and began to pant against his ear. He pulled his rod in and out of her creaming pussy, conscious of his humping ass under the covers.
A typical Maine married fuck . . . Lorna was back with him again. The first Morella was gone but the second was here, her legs spread for him, her clit seeking the hardness of his groin.
"You like that joy stick?" he whispered.
"Shhhh."
She wanted it to be over, she was trying to make him come as fast as he could. Her pussy fluttered with her determined efforts, turning into a steamy vise. Dan dug his cock into the snapping wetness and squeezed his anal rim tight to make his rod move inside her.
"Ahhh, you juicy stud," she sighed softly. The words fluttered against his ear, barely audible.
His blood throbbed in his buried cock. She was hot as hell in there, and moving like something alive. He threw her some long, rapid pulls; her belly rose to meet his and push his rod back into her pussy. Dan lay flat on her and let her squirm under him, poking her with short fucking strokes. She writhed, her torso flexing in powerful rolls as she screwed her pussy up and down on his stony cock.
His dick released his boiling sperm and he shot it into her convulsive box. She gasped and came up under him, hanging onto his tool and getting every drop. Her box surged and sprayed back at him as she plunged forward, digging her gash against his loins. She trembled and tossed her head, and he dribbled the last of his juice into her slot as he stared at the tangled mass of her fake red hair.
He knitted his fingers in it and pulled it over his face, kissing the long strands. They were straw-like in texture from the many doses of coloring she had put on it, and it smelled of her cheap, heavy perfume and something metallic that he supposed was the dye. It had the same smell as a beauty parlor. It was a smell that always made him gag but he ignored his distaste now in favor of his imagination. Lorna's always smelled like burning leaves in the fall, and it was softer than silk. But he didn't care; there was a red-haired woman in his bed once more, and his prick was lying withered and drained in her shrinking pussy. There was a wet spot on the sheet between her legs, and that too reminded him of his wife.
He climbed out of her legs and lay over her, staring down at her face.
"Will you marry me, Morella?"
Her peppercorn-black eyes widened as though she had seen a vision of a saint. She gasped and sat up.
"You crazy?" she whispered. "You gotta be, honey! Besides, you're already married. Your wife split. I know about it, don't try to kid me."
He frowned. "I wasn't trying to put anything over on you," Dan said. "I didn't know you knew about that. But I'm getting a divorce for desertion. Then will you marry me?"
She made a sound of disgust.
"You're one of them Johns that thinks if you marry a whore you'll get a grateful woman who'll do anything for you, huh? You some kind of reformer or something? I don't want to be reformed."
Somewhere during their whispered conversation Dan heard the phone ring downstairs. Now he heard his mother's shrill cry.
"Oh, no! It can't be true! Oh, what are we going to do now!"
The judge's voice reached them.
"Don't get excited-"
"I'd rather be dead than stand this shame!" Mrs. Perkins screeched. "They can't keep this out of the papers!"
Morella crossed herself and leaped out of bed. She dived into her clothes and grabbed up her new fur coat.
"I ain't staying around here, you damn fool," she hissed. "Let me go out the widow's walk."
She was determined to leave, and suddenly Dan came to his senses and knew raw fear again. He peered out the window at the veranda that enclosed three sides of the second floor of the house. Thank God for New England architecture, he thought weakly.
"Listen, they're both right below us," he said. "Walk around till you get to the other side and then go down the steps," he instructed.
Morella leaped nimbly to the sill and threw a black-stockinged leg over it. She tiptoed around the side of the house like a cat burglar. The yard was so full of trees no one could see her.
He dressed himself and went downstairs. As he passed the living room he saw her on the road, hurrying over the frozen ground. In the expensive coat she looked as if she belonged on this street, like a young woman with nothing to do but while away the afternoon drinking coffee with another of her breed.
The shadow of the widow's walk fell on the snow in the front yard. He thought about the original purpose of the wooden verandas: wives of New England whaling men used to station themselves on them with telescopes in order to watch the ships come in-if they did come in. Often they did not, hence the name widow's walk.' For a moment he longed to go up there and watch Morella's red head until she was out of view. Lorna, oh Lorna!
He composed his face before he went into the room where his parents were. He found his mother in tears and his father as red as a turkey gobbler. They looked up guiltily as he entered.
"What is it? I heard the commotion."
His father sighed raggedly.
"Lorna was involved in a scandal in Washington. She's a call girl there. She was entertaining some congressmen. One of them was a New Englander-and a Democrat-and he recognized her. He passed it along to Democratic headquarters in Bangor, apparently, and one of their men made a call to the Republican committeeman. Her activities are public property now, Dan. Your law practice is going to be hurt, and there's not much I can do about it. There's going to be a whispering campaign all over the state."
His mother sobbed.
"I thought when this all blew over you'd be appointed Attorney-General but they won't touch you now!"
Dan's face did not change, nor did he seem upset in any way.
"Is she still in Washington?" he demanded.
"What do you care?" the judge growled. "Sounds like you miss her!"
"I do," he said softly. He walked out of the house, grabbing his overcoat from the hall stand with a vicious gesture.
He looked for Morella but she was nowhere to be found. He took the Portland road and drove swiftly to the city. He covered the streets around the bus station and the hotel to which she had taken him, but he did not see her. When he asked the Portuguese cook in the diner the man shrugged.
"Somebody else just in looking for her. I call but she not where she usually is."
He walked woodenly out of the door. Without both of his wives now, he thought, dazed and suddenly exhausted. Both whores gone and left him. She not where she usually is. Neither was Lorna.
He couldn't let his whores get away from him. He went to the skin flick house and bought a ticket. He had left the house without a hat but he did not care now if anyone recognized him or not.
The lights dimmed and the curtains parted. Dan sat forward with a jolt. A gagging sound emerged from his throat as he stared at the screen.
It was Lorna, naked in front of a cage. Through the octagonal openings in the wire was thrust a proud, fully erect cock. Her eyes bugged in delight as she looked down at it.
The boy in the cage was about sixteen, a young stud who was hung like a horse before he was even fully grown. The title of the movie was Juicy Young Stuff.
And it was.. . .
The men in the audience stirred uncomfortably. If Atkins had produced this one he could do anything. The kid was twelve inches long, and the wire of the fence that contained him was not the regulation stuff. For that cock they had to use custom-made, with big openings. His meat was slathered with something lubricious that they had to use to make sure he didn't get stuck. Christ, what a tool.. . .
The boy was thin and wiry, with pale white skin and carrot-top hair. He was supposed to be Lorna's son whom she had punished by locking him in his big wire playpen. Now she was really punishing him.. . .
"Mama" put out her hand and slapped the rigid pecker hard and shook her finger at its proud possessor, all the while trying to shield her naked crotch with her other palm. Her big juicy boobs quivered with the harsh movement of her arm and son's eyes riveted on them.
"Mom, you've got the prettiest titties in the world. I used to suck on them, didn't I? Why can't I still?" He wriggled his thin hips and his giant cock slid back and forth through the wire. "My meat got hard the minute I saw you with all your clothes off. Gosh, Mom, I can't stand it! I need something bad."
Lorna licked her tongue furtively over her lips, unable to take her eyes from her son's magnificent rod.
"Hey, Mom, you look needy yourself," the boy said in wheedling tones. "Has Dad got a prick as big as mine?"
She looked furtively around the room as though the walls had ears, then shook her head slowly. She measured out about five inches with her fingers and then made a circle about the size of a quarter.
She came closer to the cage, so that her furry red muff was about an inch away from her son's tortured erection.
"You take after your granddad," she said in a fluttery voice. "My Dad. I . . . I know how big he was because. . . . "
The boy grinned knowingly.
"So it runs in the family, huh? I thought so. That's why I've been thinking about you while I beat my meat, Mom. I think about what it would be like to get between your pretty legs and feel them wrapped around my ass. God, Mom, help me! I've got to have a woman! Be my first woman, Mom. Show me how to fuck. I don't want any of the girls I know the way I want you."
Lorna took another step-all that was necessary to bring her bright bush of gash hair into contact with the swollen knob of cock. She stood with her legs tight together, a guilty look on her face, her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture.
The boy's face twisted in a grimace of pleasure and he pressed his stomach against the wire, plastering himself on the cage to get closer to the tickly triangle on the end of his rod.
"Promise not to tell Daddy," she pleaded.
"Never . . . oh, never, Mom. Come closer, please!"
With an eager laugh, Lorna spread her legs and clasped the massive young prick against her pussy. She slid back and forth over the sturdy staff like a little girl on a banister. Her gushy sex lips spread open and nestled lovingly around her son's stiff penis.
The boy shivered feverishly and shook the wires of his cage with his clenched fists, as though he were going to tear down the barrier that kept him from the full enjoyment of his mother's naked body.
The camera swooped down and under her parted thighs for a full-screen view of the dark red lips of her cunt, open and sliding over the magnificent hunk of maleness. A gush of lubrication seeped out of her vagina and spread thickly over her red-gold strands of love hair. The camera caught the shiny surface of the moving pecker as it smeared in it.
Lorna sighed deeply.
"Oh, darling, I had no idea you'd grown so big. You're a man now, with a man's needs, aren't you?"
"Mom," he panted, "please let me do things to you. Show me all about fucking, teach me to make you happy, Mom."
She cupped her big tits in her hands and pressed her chest against the cage so that two round, wide nipples fit into the octagonal holes in the wire. She thrust them hard until the wire pinched her tips into succulent pink circles. The boy stared at the erected nipples in delight, then mashed his face against the screen. The camera centered on his flicking tongue as it darted out and licked sinuously at his mother's aroused points. His hand played with the other one and he pulled it roughly through the opening, dragging the soft flesh into a long spout.
Lorna thrust her entire body against the wire and groaned in ecstasy as his young mouth sucked noisily on her boobs. His head darted from one to the other; his teeth nibbled her, his lips funneled hungrily over the big knockers.
"Mom, oh Mom," he gasped. "I never tasted titty before. I never did this to any of the girls. I'm so glad I waited for you. Your boobs are bigger and sweeter than any of them."
"And my angel has the biggest, hardest cock in the world," she sighed. "I'm going to have to have it in my pussy, honey, even though it's wrong to fuck with you."
The boys fingers reached through the wire and sought her orangey cunt. Lorna hung onto the screen and jutted her widespread crotch at him, letting him feel her up as best he could through the confining prison that separated them.
"Mom, it's so gooey and wet in that slicel Do all women get that way? I made you hot, didn't I?"
"I cream for you the way I never did for your Daddy," she moaned. "I'm all slicked up and ready to go for a ride on that joystick of yours, darling."
"Show me, Mom, show me what to do," he begged.
Lorna stepped back and smiled at him. She held her legs wide apart and pulled back her pussy lips, peeling the hairy, loose skin back to show him the meaty interior of her coral vulva. The entire screen was filled with her oleaginous mucous membranes. Her inner lips were stiff and pouting and her clit was like a little prick as it sat up and thrust out of her slushy girlish boat. Someone in the audience moaned and Dan heard the splash of jism as it hit the floor. The whole Goddamn theater was ready to come; it was the best movie any of them had ever seen. Dan swallowed against the dry ache in his throat and spread his legs to free his rigid cock from the confining twist of underwear and trousers. His hand went to his lap and he clutched his semen-crammed prick and squeezed hard. He didn't care what happened, he didn't care if he walked out of this place with soaked pants. Nothing mattered anymore except Lorna and Morella. To hell with politics, to hell with his parents, to hell with everything except his redheaded whores!
He stared at the screen and gazed into the puddle of white stuff in his wife's wide-open vagina. She was lying on her back in front of her son, and the camera was right between her legs. They could actually see up her hole! She held it open with her fingers as she instructed her son in his first fuck.
"This is where you put your cock, darling," she said, and slipped her fingertip into the churning aperture. The finger rode higher until it was all the way in. She shook her wrist and a wet fucky sound was amplified throughout the house.
The finger slithered out again, covered with her love juice.
She sat up, her face flushed, and knelt in front of the cage.
"Darling, I can't let you out because you've been a bad boy, but we can still fuck. I'll show you how."
She lay down on her back and put her legs up against the wire. The boy knelt down and thrust his cock through one of the openings near the bottom. It was going to be a perfect aim. The pillows under her body lifted her directly in front of him. Her wet hairy slice was plastered on the end of his cock. She reached for the enormous shaft and guided it until it lay against the fuck hole.
"Now, darling, go in my cunt the way you came out of it! It's going to feel a hell of a lot better this time!"
The thick knotty head screwed into her lips and slowly disappeared into her crotch. The boy pushed heavily against the screen, his thin white body moving like a snake as he crawled steadily into his mother's vagina. Their crotch hair was exactly the same color, making the incestuous thrill deliciously real to the bug-eyed, horny men who watched the screen. Both of them had that pale, translucent redhead's skin; the boy was hairless except for his little patch of jock hair. For a moment Dan could imagine that the boy was Lorna's child-his child, too, their son. He was the Daddy they were betraying, and he deserved it! He hadn't taken good care of that delectable little gash, so now his rival would.
"I deserve it," he muttered to himself. "I deserve everything bad that can happen to me."
The cock was planted hilt-deep in Lorna's wriggling crotch now. The boy gaped open-mouthed at her, his features twisted in real lust.
There was a noticeable splice in the film, and the scene came on again, identical but obviously a second round. The boy was young, no matter how big his meat was, and he had probably shot his wad as soon as he got it in her.
"Oh, Mom, it's so hot in there! It's on fire!"
"Move your lovely cock in and out, darling, pull-push, back and forth. That's what makes us both have climaxes. That gorgeous foreskin of yours is as big as a toadstool and when it pulls against my pussy I go crazy."
She flexed her upturned buttocks in a milking motion and suckled at the stiff branch as it moved in her vagina. The impaling young prick poked in and out of her hairy box, growing shinier and more slathered with jism each time it dipped into her. The boy rattled the cage like an ape; as he fucked he spread his legs in a split and held himself on the wires. His hairless young balls slid over the floor of his cage as he threw his overgrown whang into his mother's pussy. His thinness seemed more pronounced than ever now as his pelvis bones jutted out of his pale skin. It was the sexiest fuck Dan had ever seen or imagined; the confining wire made it better somehow, gave it an element of punishment, which bespoke civilization, and at the same time suggested the wild-ness of dangerous animals which must be caged to prevent their passions from unleashing themselves upon a forbidden object.
Lorna was the forbidden object; the mother, the human woman fucking the great red beast. Beauty and the beast, the hairy ape, all the erotic excesses of the most vivid and sordid imagination!
Each man in the audience felt it; the ultimate in lust, the ultimate in taboo, the ultimate in punishment. Dan felt it most of all.
She grunted in ecstasy as the boy's stiff young branch knocked her ass. She screamed for more, cried out in pretended pain, shouted obscenities to her son.
"Mom, you're moving so fast! God, it feels like nothing I ever imagined. If cunt is like this I want to stay in it for the rest of my life. Ahhhhhhhmmmmmmm, what a pretty behind you've got, I can see it perfectly. Swing it hard, Mom darling, wiggle it good! I dreamed about your beautiful bottom so many times. I always watched you when you walked, you know that? Ohhhhh, Mom, I'm gonna shoot!"
"Fill me with your beautiful semen, darling! My pussy is throbbing soooooo good! Do you feel her! Isn't she better for your gorgeous stick than your right fist?"
"Oh, Christ Christ, yesssss! UUUUUGGGGG-GGHHHHHH! My beautiful Mom!"
Another splice, and they were at it again. This time the boy's tongue was in her ass. She backed up to the wire until the octagonal cutouts made a pattern on her white skin. He worked his tongue between her plump cheeks and licked the bright anal hairs, then she reached back and pulled open her creamy orbs. The whole delectable ass slice came into view, a long crescent of pink tender-looking flesh lined with red-gold kinky hairs. Her puckered rim was wet with her son's saliva and it dribbled down into her fiery swollen cunt. The boy stabbed his tongue against her rectal slit and pressed his face against the wire.
"That's it, darling, lick me out! Ahhhhh, it feels so wet and sexy . . . I love to be rimmed. It tickles and makes me hot all over."
He had three fingers in her vagina; now he took them out and drubbed the longest one against her bung. Lorna squealed and urged him on. His finger poked through the wire and entered her tight little hole.
"Oooooh, darling, you want to see what everything is like, don't you? Are you going to be ah ass man?"
"It's so much tighter in there, Mom. And dry. Did you ever have a cock up there?"
"No," she panted. "Daddy won't do it to me no matter how much I beg him. But you will, won't you, angel? I want your great big fat dong in my rear end!"
The boy worked his finger into her bung, digging lewdly and eagerly into her bowels. Lorna wriggled her bare ass up against the cage and clawed the rug as she rode back and forth, dragging the finger in and out of her corn hole. Her belly muscles moved like snakes as she writhed and pulled against the fierce drubbing in her crack.
"Yessssss! Fuck it good and hard, darling! Your finger is like a hot poker up there!"
He lunged behind her, crashing into the fence that separated them, violently impaling her on his finger. He shook his wrist hard and made her rectum tingle with lust. She bore down on him with a powerful squeeze that made him yelp with delight. He pressed down on the ventral side of her bung until the brown aperture dragged open enough for the camera to catch. He stretched her cruelly but she knew only delight now.
"Turn around, Mom. I want to lick your cunt now. I never tasted hair pie before and I want a slice of yours!"
Loma did a flying arc against the fence, spinning her legs like the wings of a pinwheel until she lay on her back facing him. His finger still dug into her bung, unaffected by her swift and graceful movement. Her come-drenched slit pressed against the wire; she spread open her hair-fringed flanges and laid them back to expose the open folds of her crotch.
The boy threw himself down on his belly and lifted his face to her exposed femaleness. His tongue shot out in a moist pink dart and deftly licked her glistening genitals. He laid it on with gusto, his face as pink as her pussy flesh, slurping noisily and sliding his tongue up and down the dewy gash until he had her twisting and screeching and arching her back in a desperate effort to get more of her naked hairy parts into the fence.
"Oh, Mom, I never knew it would taste this good!" he gasped.
His exploring tongue touched every part of her fuzzy oval, stroking the lips and dipping lasciviously into her cunt hole. He pressed firmly into her piss slot and drubbed the puckered pinpoint.
"Eat meeeeee, oh my beautiful boy, eat me gooooood!" she groaned hoarsely. She swayed from side to side and jabbed her pelvis into his mouth. He licked harder, his appetite for cunt ravenous now, wetting her already drenched thatch with his saliva. Her excited parts pumped out whitish jism and he caught it with his tongue and swallowed ecstatically.
"Put your tongue inside my box!" she gasped out.
She hoisted her flexing bottom in the air and threw her legs up, spreading them wide. He gave a moan of pleasure and poked his tongue through the fence and jabbed her pussy entrance. He fluttered his tongue inside the vestibule of her vagina and dug his fingers into her ass cheeks. It looked like a tiny, soft cock wriggling in and out of the stretched hole. Her cunt creamed all over his mouth and he licked it off and went back for more.
"Tongue-fuck me, darling, lick it dry!"
She slammed her naked nether regions against the fence, digging, pressing, squirming in madness against her son's sluicing tongue while she trembled in the final onslaught of her pleasure.
"I'm COMMMMMMING! You're driving me crazeeeee!"
"Mom, Mom, I love you!"
In the last scene, Lorna opened the cage with a key and caught the exhausted boy to her quivering breasts. She held him in her lap and he sucked on her tit with his eyes fixed in adoration on her face.
The theater was filled with panting breaths. Dan clutched his wet pants and felt his cock throbbing inside them. His balls ached and his heart pounded. He got up and ran to the side door, forcing his way through the exiting crowds, and ran down the dark alley. He ran all the way to the hotel where he had gone that first night with Morella, and lurched into the narrow doorway.
The disinterested desk clerk looked him up and down.
"Yah? Whaddya want?"
Dan took out ten dollars and tossed it on the counter.
"I'm going to meet Morella here. She promised to come up."
The man shrugged, took the money and handed him a key. Dan took the stairs two at a time and burst into the room. He locked the door behind him and sprawled on the bed in his overcoat, clutching at the pillows and sobbing. He would never go home again. The boy in the movie was himself. Somehow, Lorna must have known all along what lay between his mother and him. That's why she made that movie, to get even with him. She knew that he would eventually see it.
If only his mother had been honest about her lust for him I He remembered all the little pats and squeezes, all the fondling and tender loving maternal care . . . all the "fever testing" cheek-to-cheek . . . the way she felt his crotch when he showed symptoms of mumps that time when he was ten. He remembered lying across her lap with his pants around his ankles while her hand struck his bare ass. His cock used to rise like a cork against her leg while she spanked him, and she knew it! She felt it all right! And she loved it! How many times she had found a reason, any reason, to spank him, and his father could not and would not interfere-no siree! It was all in the name of discipline, not sex. It was all sex! All of it!
She drove Lorna away, Loma and Morella both!
He rolled over on his back and lay looking at the patterns in the swirled paint on the ceiling. The shapes all took on the image of Morella, her hair flying in the wind, rushing along the widow's walk.
Widow's walk.. . .
He looked up at the broken ceiling fixture. There had been a chandelier there once. Now nothing remained except some exposed beams. The room was on the top floor; above it lay the attic. As he stared into the disused hole he realized that the beams were pieces of the attic flooring.
He got up and stood on a chair and poked at the hole with a coat hanger. The plaster crumbled and fell on him in a cloud of dust. He coughed and choked. His hands shaking now, he pulled more of the flaky plaster away until he found an old but firm plank. He got down from the chair and took off his tie. As he fastened a loop in it he realized it would not be long enough. His gaze leaped wildly around the room. The towels could be torn into strips! He went to the washstand and plucked one from the railing.
Then he had a better idea.
He looked down at his heavy snowshoes. The ankle-high boots were fastened with sturdy yellow leather ties looped double. Each tie was two feet long. He ripped them out of the eyelets and knotted them together. He pulled on the noose . . . it was strong, much stronger than cloth. He climbed back on the chair and knotted the end of the leather around the plank, then he put the noose over his head. I'm going to die.. . .
The notion that that identity which at death is or is not lost forever was to me, at all times, a consideration of intense interest.
I found no trace of the first, in the vault where I hid the second, Morella.
Suddenly a great welling-up of certainty came over him, and with it vanished fear and sadness. He knew then, with a knowledge so strong that it became faith that there was no death. He knew he would go on, not to any heaven or hell but in life. He did not know how he knew, but he was sure of it, surer than he had ever been of anything.
He tightened the noose around his neck. His last act in this life would be one of obedience to his parents. He was pulling himself up by his bootstraps, just as they always talked about.
He jumped off the chair and kicked it out of the way. His last conscious thought was that his tongue had suddenly become huge, much too big for his mouth.