Chapter 10

She moved languorously down the stairs, bathed and scented, combed and powdered, her body tingling at the kiss of chiffon, aware of every square inch of her skin. It was as if she had never been completely awake, Charlotte thought; not until last night. Even the crazy release she'd known with Blair had not brought her to this peak of sensation.

Her body-lovely, beloved body-was a guitar string, and any touch upon it brought forth melodies, the notes cascading throughout her flesh and echoing in her mind. Sex was a wonder piled upon wonders, each newly opened gate beckoning her on to fresh nirvanas and the discovery of strangely exotic hedonism.

And she felt sorry for any woman, for all women, who had never known such ecstasy. But beyond such a sweet, knowing sorrow, Charlotte had only love for the world, for she was at peace, even walking as she was, so balanced upon the edge of tactile anticipation.

Elena was alone in the kitchen; the others weren't down yet-sweet Duncan, dear Blair and innocent little Jan. Charlotte swept into the kitchen and said, "Lovely, lovely morning, isn't it?"

The green eyes came around to find hers, and Elena smiled back, softer, more open, happier than she had ever been, it seemed to Charlotte. Elena said, "You bet it's a beautiful day. I didn't even let the phone call bug me too much. Wow; if your night was anything like mine, you're still itchy all over, but not like you'd need to scratch. Those kids! Who would have thought they were going to switch beds in the middle of the night?"

Charlotte's eyes fell, and her cheeks grew warm. "I-I thought Blair was making out with you at the same time. When I could think, that is.

Elena laughed, eyes shining and her even teeth sparkling. "I know what you mean, dear. I was so shook up I didn't know what the hell was happening-at first."

"Didn't you hear me scream?" Charlotte asked.

Lifting one eyebrow, Elena said, "Scream? Whatever for?"

"Help. I thought I was screaming for help, Elena. I-well, I resisted Duncan, fought him. I made him rape me."

Elena handed Charlotte a steaming cup of coffee, and they sat at the table, sipping, their faces reflective. Charlotte thought that her friend had never looked more lovely. Elena said, "Blair sure as hell didn't have to rape me. I mean-right there at the first, when I realized that it wasn't

Duncan in bed with me, I jumped damned near out of my skin. But all that did was bury his tool that much more solid into me. Oooh! Right up to the sac, it was, and even when I had this wild idea that the tool belonged to some burglar or somebody like that, I also figured it was too late to do anything but screw it back.

"And then, when Blair said: mother, right into my throat, I-I went cold inside, then turned hot-hotter than I've ever been in my entire life, and that's going some. I mean, having your own son's shaft crammed long and hard up inside your pussy-that's a crazy feeling. But you'd know that feeling, too."

"Yes," Charlotte said, still languid inside, not uptight about anything, and not having to force herself to discuss such intimate matters. In fact, it was nice, having Elena to talk with-especially since this close and wonderful woman could so utterly share the experience. For Elena also had screwed both boys-Duncan and her own son.

Elena swallowed some coffee. "But I didn't fight Blair, once I knew it was him in between my legs. Fight-hell! I wrapped my legs around him so he couldn't get away, and I fucked that boy so hot and so heavy that he came right away-bingo!-like that. Only I never let him ease off; I hung right onto him, grinding and hunching, and by the time I was ready to blast off, Blair was staying right with me. That boy can really screw, can't he?"

It didn't seem all that odd, to be discussing a boy's sexual prowess with his mother. "Yes he can," Charlotte. "But-there's something so thrilling, so stimulating, about doing it with your own son, isn't there?"

"You better believe it," Elena agreed. "I thought my spine was melting and running out through my box. I mean, I've laid a lot of guys in my time, but never anything like Blair. He turns me on heavier than any man who ever touched me. Wow; we had an orgy that lasted most of the night."

"So did we," Charlotte said. "And what makes it all even so much nicer is the fact that none of us is jealous of the other. I'll have to admit that I was, for a little while, thinking of you doing it with Duncan. But that was mostly in my subconscious, and even that was going away. Now it's all gone; every bit of it. I-when Duncan and I have explored each other's bodies all the way, I'll be happy to share him with you again."

Elena's eyes gleamed. "And you can switch over on my son. It'll keep us all that much more interesting. But we're so wrapped up in what went on last night that I'm forgetting to clue you in on this morning. I mentioned a phone call. Well, it was from my husband, that louse-he keeps bugging me, and I think that the sooner we get out of this town, the better. Jerry can be a real bastard when he tries, and he's trying."

Charlotte finished her coffee, tilted her head to listen to the shower going in the upstairs bath. "I'll see if the house car's ready. It should be.

Well have to stock it with food and bedclothes, and pack our own things..."

"Have you decided about Jan?"

Sighing, Charlotte shook her head. "I guess she'll just have to stay. I can either send her to camp or hire a housekeeper to care for her until we get back. She won't quite understand why she can't vacation with us, and I can't explain it to her."

"That's going to be tough on the lad," Elena said.

"Any ideas? Or should we all stay away from each other for the next month or so? To be certain Jan doesn't see or even suspect any of the action?"

"No way for that," Elena admitted. "Well-you want to wait on the kids, or shall we grab a quick bite and start getting things all together?"

"I'd rather not face Jan just yet," Charlotte said. "Let's leave a note."

So they drove by Charlotte's cousin's place, and the big house car was ready. They'd pick it up after shopping, she said; they just couldn't wheel that long, wide monster around the supermarket parking lots. Not until they had plenty of practice.

They filled the back of the station wagon with food, mostly canned stuff that could be easily stored. The meats and perishables, they'd buy along the road, for the refrigerator was small. Excitement filled both Charlotte and her friend, and an anticipation of the journey ahead, when they'd both be completely free to savor every intimacy of what had before now been forbidden sex. They could travel far and revel at every road stop.

Hurrying, laughing and kidding, they drove back to the cousin's home, and more or less listened as he filled them in on details of the big house car's operation.

"I'll drive it to my house," Elena volunteered. "I used to handle a camper when Jerry and I were still married. This isn't much different, just bigger."

So Charlotte reached Elena's home first, pulling the station wagon far up into the driveway and off into the patio area, to give Elena plenty of room to bring in the bus. With a bag of groceries in each arm, she fumbled with the knob of the kitchen door and managed to get it open without spilling anything. Propping the bags on the table, she turned to make another trip, but then she heard the sounds.

They were small, almost sobbing noises, but not quite that. They were puzzling sounds, and could be someone in pain. Charlotte moved through the kitchen and along the hallway, listening as her feet crossed the thick carpet. The noises died away, but Charlotte kept walking, and when she looked around the corner of the wall and into the spacious living room, she saw where the sounds had been coming from.

There on the big couch was Jan Mason, her daughter. There poised over her with his penis in hand was Blair Chapman. They were both naked, stripped to the skins, and somehow Jan didn't look so innocent now; she was still small, yet child-like in body, but that tiny, slim body was wiggling sensuously, and it was Jan who had been making the noises. She made more of them now-a moan mixed with panting, and she held up her arms to Blair as he kneeled between her delicate legs.

"Come on, man!" Jan was saying huskily. "Come on and screw me, before I flip out."

Charlotte stood transfixed, staring in wide-eyed disbelief at her daughter, at fourteen-year-old Jan. The girl's delicate body twisted in yearning, and her pubic mound was only fluffed with black down. So young; so very young and tender, Charlotte thought. Just a baby, really-but at that, only a year younger than her brother, and certainly Duncan had done a man's job at lovemaking.

"I missed you," Jan panted. "I missed you so much, Blair. Don't make me wait any longer, please. Lay me, lover; screw me long and hard to make up for the lost time."

Unable to move, Charlotte hung onto the dividing wall, clung desperately to its stucco edge. Only fourteen years old; only a child. She wanted to scream at Blair, to shriek denial at him, at them both. But she could not; her throat was clogged with her own guilt, stopped tightly by her own sexual trespasses. How could she deny her daughter the same lover she herself had possessed? By reason of age? If that made any real difference, Jan Mason was much nearer Blair's age than Charlotte Mason. The girl had more right to the boy than an older woman could claim.

Blair lowered himself, moved forward with his strong, slim penis aiming down at the glistening little mound lifted so eagerly up to it. Charlotte watched, her breath caught in her throat, as Blair worked the shiny head of his cock gently into the red lips of Jan's childish pussy, the labia stretching to fit around it.

Her daughter-her baby, baby daughter-fragile thighs so wide, tiny breasts heaving, not yet nubile breasts, but with erectile little nipples; Jan, so sweet and lovely, young, untarnished body so sleekly beautiful. Her daughter was being fucked by a boy equally as beautiful.

Blair's penis slid into the tight sheath inch by slow inch, and Charlotte could see that the fit was close, that Jan's little vagina was narrow. But the girl was no virgin; her mother could also see that. Jan was too anxious, too passionate, and there couldn't have been pain in the way she received Blair's thrusting cock. In it slid, probing through the feathery little hairs that barely concealed the lovely, elegantly shaped labia. Then it was driven home, buried to the balls inside Jan, the boy's prick shoved hilt deep inside her daughter's cunt.

"That's good, man," Jan was hissing, her slim legs lifting, still spread wide, veed wide so that the toes aimed themselves at the ceiling above Blair's naked back. "Oh baby, it's so good to ride your cock again. Stick it to me, Blair baby!"

Charlotte saw her daughter rock back upon her shoulders, saw her trim, slight ass pointing high and Blair on his knees still, humping and stroking his rod into the girl as he hung onto her knees. Jan screwed with violence, twisting and grinding her flat belly, rolling and pounding her ass. With surprise, Charlotte saw that the girl was playing with her own tit with one hand, and that the other was down and around her active ass, cupping Blair's swinging sac.

"Sweet," Blair grunted, hammering his cock home, ramming it into that. tight and narrow cunt, "oh Jan, you're so very sweet."

Jealous; Charlotte was immediately and foolishly jealous. She'd thought that emotion over and done with, but here it was back again, and clawing at her with sharpened talons. But as she continued to observe her daughter and their lover move together, move with the primitive and loving rhythm of two compellingly lovely people joined in the basic loveliness, she realized that she was not jealous of Blair making love to her daughter. Nor was she envious of her daughter taking the hard young prick that she herself had shared not long ago. Rather, she was covetous of their beauty, for they were so beautiful together.

"Oh-oh man-oh man, oh man-I'm making it!" Jan cried out, and her slim little body launched itself into a frenzy of motion, her cunt corkscrewing around Blair's stroking cock, her tight ass churning in a series of convulsions that told Charlotte that the girl was coming.

She felt a rise of bliss in her own vagina as Jan flailed her thin legs in the air and humped madly, wildly up to Blair's steady fucking. When she reached her orgasm, Jan bit her lips and clutched both small tits, and her head swung from side to side, her hair flowing as in a strong wind.

For a few more seconds, Blair continued to feed his glistening rod into Jan's stilled cunt, driving it in and out, the sound of it wet and suctioning now. Then he buried it balls-deep into the childish pussy and shook from head to foot as he came into her hotly clenching cup.

Charlotte caught her breath again, and was conscious of the thrust of her nipples against her bra, conscious of the steamy condition of her own cunt. She knew the feel of that ejaculation, knew exactly how Blair was jetting his boiling semen into the juicy sleeve of flesh and muscle that was her daughter's well fucked vagina. She could respond to each spurt of his come as it hurled itself sticky and loving against the womb, and to the successive throbbing of the head of his prick as it loosed diminishing spits of his male fluid.

Hands cupping her own mound, tits rising and falling in excitement, Charlotte turned to flee, before either of them came alert and saw her. To be caught peeping at them would be too much, too embarrassing for all.

She bumped into someone, and only the glimpse of a familiar face stifled the startled yell that rose from her lungs. They tiptoed quickly down the hallway and back into the kitchen, she and Elena Chapman. There they let out their breaths in a collective gasp of relief, and Elena said softly, "How about that?"

Charlotte whispered, "That was the-the first time I ever watched anyone do it. And to see my own daughter like that, to see her twist and pump and act so bitchy ... "

"Kind of stirs you up, doesn't it?" Elena said. "Here-we both earned a drink. I damned near went off in my panties, catching that act. You'd think that kid had enough last night, and the night before. But a young stud like him ain't satisfied with just clicking his mother and his mother's best friend. Oh no-he's got to put it to another kid, too. Did a hell of a job, didn't he?"

Charlotte gulped the drink of bourbon that Elena handed her. It only warmed the fire that was burning in the pit of her stomach. She said, "That wasn't their first time to do it. Jan said she'd missed him."

Elena grunted. "I'll bet. Those two have probably been screwing for quite awhile, and here neither of us even had a suspicion. Jan is a sweet and beautiful girl, though; and hot as the proverbial Chinese firecracker. I don't blame Blair one bit. That's one fine piece of tail-but you could see that for yourself, I guess."

"She must be on the Pill," Charlotte said.

"Sure," Elena agreed. "Have another drink on the house. Well, our little voyeurism scene fixed one problem up pretty good, didn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Charlotte asked.

"No problem at all now about what to do with little Jan, is there? We can take her with us."

Drinking more bourbon, Charlotte swallowed and said, "I-I suppose so. But do you think she knows about us? About you and me and-what we've been doing?"

Elena grinned. "I'd make book on it. She was probably in on it from the very start, if I know anything at all about my Blair. He's as sneaky as his mother, but maybe a Little smarter. Me-I'd never have had the guts to go after him the way he came after you and me. But I'm glad he did; I'm sure as all hell glad he did."

"Me, too," Charlotte said, and downed the rest of her drink. There was still an unrest in her, an uneasy feeling that nagged at whatever was left of her conscience. Everything was happening too swiftly, and she was having considerable difficulty absorbing the passage of events.

There had been the bright flame of her love with Blair; the passing from straight and restricted sex into a freedom that she had not known could exist. And before the glittering wonder of that had even begun to dim, she had been loved by her own son-screwed and eaten by an adoring Duncan. Then, while the magic glow of that was still surrounding her, still keeping her warm and titillated, she had seen her daughter being laid by her lover, the same lover who had turned on Charlotte Mason.

Somewhere, somehow, there had to be a guilty, shameful thing in all this. Oh, she knew the laws and the must-nots; if anything, she was more than familiar with all the no-nos of society. But they just did not seem to apply here.

"Here's to us," Elena said, "and one hell of a vacation."