Marleen's whole body vibrated and then hot, sticky juices gushed from around her fingers, covering her hand and running in rivulets down the inside of her excitedly quivering thighs and other hand. A piercing scream reverberated through the wall, followed by a low male groan, and then there was utter silence from the savage couple. Pinwheels of light burst in front of her eyes as she cried out once, twice, with the acute pleasure of her own release, and she arched her back, squeezing her cuntal area as hard as she could, then sunk to the bed, completely exhausted.
She couldn't bring herself to withdraw her fingers from herself until the last dying throbs had stilled inside, but finally she allowed her hands to slither wetly from her satiated pussy and anus and she rolled limply over, burrowing her head in her pillow, tiny tendrils of guilt beginning to crawl over her. She didn't hear David and Gloria as they changed position so that he could suck her blonde-haired cunt, nor did Marleen hear the child creep away and to her own room, closing the door and locking it. But Wendy couldn't lock out the numbing pain in her soul and the images of what she'd just witnessed, alone and confused with torment. Her mother was no longer a sanctuary, a place to run and find peace and salvation; she was now the opposite, the causation of agony and disruption, not the reliever of it.
Marleen was sick with the knowledge of what she'd done as sanity returned to her slowly. What was the matter with her now? Was she so starved, so wrought up by this David Preston, whom she hardly knew, that she was having to resort to masturbation for satisfaction? Would she repeat it time and again now? Her stomach churned, and the guilt-ridden mother clenched her eyes shut and took the other pillow from beside her and covered the back of her head. Little by little her spasming muscles relaxed. With the lethargy of post-sex release, her physical calmness spread to her mind, which was dazed to the point of welcoming the relief, the escape from her agony. A drowsiness drifted over her, and a blissful, healing sleep let her sink into unconsciousness, stopping her from reliving the purgatory to which she'd condemned herself.
Tomorrow, she thought just before she slept. Maybe tomorrow things will be better…
CHAPTER FOUR
Morning arrived all too soon.
The alarm clock went off, awaking Marleen, and she slowly came around to consciousness with a fuzzy, distant, half-jointed awareness. She turned over, at first curious as to why she was naked and on top of her covers – and then she recalled the previous night, what she had heard and done, and a wash of shame and self-loathing flowed over her. Quickly she padded to her closet and put on a chenille robe, not wanting to be reminded further of her indiscretion by seeing her nakedness openly displayed, and she buttoned the robe all the way down and up to her neck, covering her flesh. Barefoot, trembling and clutching the hem with her hand, she stepped into the livingroom, almost fearful that Wendy would see her like this, and crossed to the kitchen, where she plugged in the percolator.
The apartment was strangely quiet and solemn, the way a tomb might be… she wondered if her daughter was awake yet, then saw that her bedroom door was ajar. She glanced at the clock over the stove: eight-thirty. Wendy was up and gone awfully early, but then that wasn't incredibly unusual, and Marleen didn't worry about it any more than she'd worried about Wendy being out with Clyde the night before. She'd open the store in an hour, and sooner or later Wendy would come home…
She poured herself a cup of steaming hot coffee and sat down, staring stony-eyed at nothing in particular, her thoughts hazy and tormenting. Poor little Wendy; she had no idea what kind of mother she had, and had Marleen caught her masturbating the way she had last night, she'd have made quite a scene. Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed with the knowledge of her self-abuse, and she asked herself over and over the sickening question whether her six years of sexual chasteness had left her so weakened that she had to resort to manipulating her own breasts and vagina for satisfaction, whether she was on the verge of nymphomania, unable to control her emotions…
No, no it was because of David Preston. Not that she blamed her tenant for being the way he was, getting that girl of his up to his room and having her suck his penis… it was because there was something about him which seemed to release all of the locks she'd carefully placed on her body and feelings, and that if she'd heard some other man doing the same thing last night, it wouldn't have affected her anywhere near as strongly… and so for her own sake he'd have to leave at once before things got out of hand. It might not solve everything perfectly, she told herself, but it would be a start. As soon as she saw him, she'd tell him to go.
It was useless to chastise herself further about her masturbation; she couldn't wipe it off the slate of her life. It was done and the best thing to do would be to learn from it, and that she'd have to watch herself more closely in the future, even after David Preston was out bag and baggage. She hated to part with the two hundred dollars he'd given her, but that was a cheap price to pay for her sanity, and she was only lucky that no permanent harm had been done. After all, nobody had seen her finger herself while listening to the nakedly groaning couple next door, and it wasn't very adult of her to torture her mind with childish guilt as if she had been viewed by others. Yes, she said to nobody in particular, yes it was very lucky indeed that Wendy was out on a date last night and didn't know the horror her mother was experiencing…
Wendy awoke an hour earlier than her mother, one of the many times she'd woken during the night. It was useless to try and sleep, she decided, and she wanted to be gone before her mother awoke; she didn't know what she wanted to do, but she knew that she didn't want to face her, not yet, not until she had sorted some of her confusion and resentment out and resolved a few things in her own mind.
She decided to sun herself on the porch, though because of the new tenant she knew that she couldn't go bare-chested as she had been doing, and so she slipped on her magenta colored bikini and her terry-cloth beach robe that came just below her thighs, and silently padded out the apartment door and to the porch. She was deeply troubled by the shattering knowledge that her mother was a sensual and carnal woman, not at all saintly and above the "sins of the flesh" she had warned Wendy to avoid. There was nobody Wendy could turn to, nor was she sure of her own feelings, sensing little save a kind of reeling numbness; not hating, not loving, not really anything but confusion.
She was surprised to see David Preston down in the yard, playing with his dog. He was only in a pair of faded dungarees, and she gasped with admiration at the way the early morning sun rippled across his fine, exposed chest, his muscles firm and his skin copper. God, but that man's built, she thought peripherally, and so confident and virile. Clyde's only a boy compared to him. He was so graceful and lean as he played in barefoot happiness with his large, romping dog, throwing a rubber ball against the fence for it to catch. And the dog was just as magnificent, whipcord taut and large, with a glossy coat that wasn't too hairy and yet gave a shining covering of rich, fur-like texture.
David Preston laughed and King barked joyfully at the exercise as he took the ball from King's massive jaws, and he was about to throw it again when he saw the figure of the lovely young girl on the porch. He stopped, transfixed as the sunlight caught her beauty, her lithe, innocent ripeness. Her terry-cloth robe was untied, because the day was already uncommonly warm, and the creamy down of her smooth skin was displayed, barely covered by the thin strands of her bikini. Her mouth was parted and her teeth slightly bared as she looked down at him, and the sun seemed to focus on the triangle of her petal-like vagina, presenting it to him as if it was an offering there to be taken by his huge, stabbing cock. Her high, inviting globular breasts were barely restrained by the tight top, jutting out like twin hillocks, waiting to be climbed, and legs, so slender, so smoothly curving into her inner thighs and firm buttocks seemed to beg him to step up to her and bury himself between them. His cock strained against his pants as he gazed with increasingly lusting eyes up at the beautiful teenager, his mind devilishly churning with lascivious and devious thoughts as to how best bring her under his control and body…