Chapter 6

Marleen's shrill yell of orgasmic release, as loud and tremulous as it was, blasted at Wendy's brain, sliced through her own climactic satiation, her first reaction being that she had been discovered in this lewd spectacle by strangers. She didn't know who or what had come along, only that somebody had and was screaming with terror or indignation or revulsion, and she raised herself from the warming, loving arms of David Preston, nearly fainting with fear, shaking the last comatose vestiges of her passionate response from her terror-stricken mind, the delights of cumming with this man's penis ejaculating in her lost as the need for escape ran rampant through her mind.

Then, with a terrifying burst of recognition, she saw her mother! Her mother! Oh God above, nothing could be worse than this, the young teenager thought in wretched horror, that split second of comprehension that her mother was a few feet away searing itself on her reeling brain like a branding iron. She moaned as her eyes locked with her mother's, and then she looked down at herself, at her fresh, young skin flushed pink with her excitement, her dark-tipped breasts heaving and glistening with beads of sweat, and her pubic area nestling in between her clenched thighs, with their swollen, inflamed lips and abused cunt; at the whole of her naked, curvaceous body--and she wanted the beach to open up and swallow her into the hell she deserved.

Her vision took it in, her mind absorbed the view, but what happened next came so suddenly as to blot out evaluation other than the immediate one of who and where she was, and who had caught her nakedly entwined with a man like this. Her mother stood up from behind the concealing shrubbery, and a whole new picture of the depraved scene presented itself to shock the teenager almost insensate. Her mother wasn't standing in gaped- eyed horror at her daughter's lewdness, ready to bolt in tear- filled disgust--she was tottering in shame, holding a pair of wet, pink panties in her hand, her face blanched the color of white flour and her expression that of shame and humiliation!

Wendy's whole chest and throat felt as if a steel band was being tightened, for she tried to speak, but couldn't. She was immobile, held rigid by uncomprehending, tormenting, disbelief, but as the bushes parted and her mother started slowly across the small distance of sand to her, she saw for the first time exactly what the whole, filthy situation was like, and, in total disillusionment, the force of pent-up air inside her burst forth:

"Mother!"

"Wendy!" The wail sounded as if coming from the death-bed of a terminal patient in the last agonies of pain, and Marleen Franklin crossed toward Wendy and Preston the way a condemned man is led to the gallows--without a choice, but devoutly wishing there was one...

The stunned daughter stared wildly at the rumpled dress and ivory, naked thighs and the long rivulets of sperm which were staining trickles of consummated intercourse down the insides of her legs... and if there had been any doubt in Wendy's mind as to what had been going on, it was dispelled by the naked torso of Clyde Brooks behind her, crouched on the ground, his drained young penis rapidly deflating, but still hard enough and glistening enough to show the traces of what he'd been doing to her mother. In that instant, Wendy realized that her mother had just been fucked by her boyfriend while spying on her and David! It was impossible but true! She couldn't ignore the facts, and the facts made her fling herself from the older man she'd been fucking, her face drained of blood and her soul surging with loathing and horror.

Her own mother! That was the horrible part, for such a decadent act as this was to be expected from such a boy as Clyde-- -but it was her prudish, Victorian mother, that pillar of do- goodism and purity, that she couldn't control the unreasoning anger which seized her, and emitting an animal-like growl of disgust, and vengeance, she cried out:

"Whore!"

Marleen staggered from the blow of castigation, flinging an arm across her eyes. "Wendy, please Wendy..."

"Don't talk to me! Don't say one word of explanation!" the girl shrieked, her emotions swirling in her head, "You're nothing but a nympho!"

"Oh God," Marleen moaned, sinking to the sand, unable to make her feet go a step further to her daughter. This was the final point of no return. No longer could she hope to hold her darling child in her lap and cuddle her, or warmly and tenderly give her advice, or offer her security or mothering; tears flooded down her dress from the soul-sickness and self-loathing with filled her, and she shook as if infected with yellow fever from the knowledge that she had lost her daughter by the betrayal of her body and the moral turpitude that she'd allowed to blank her mind. Her guilt had been bad enough the night before, but then she'd been alone and could make adjustments--but now, this time it wasn't in private, it was in front of two men and Wendy, and she knew that she was sick, no better than the whore her daughter spat as an accusation.

"What the hell are you so upset about, Wendy?" Preston said, still sprawled on the sand and grinning a knowing smirk. At first he'd been as afraid as Wendy, but having adjudged the situation, realized that the mother had been fucking right along with them, he was feeling damned good. He was safe, and perhaps he could turn things around now and score with Marleen, making a mother- daughter combination out of things... "I mean it, little one," he said as Wendy turned to stare incredulously at him. "What was your mother doing that you weren't?"

"That's different!" she yelled hotly, standing naked and wet, but defiantly with her small fists clenched to her firm, smooth hips. For Wendy was being ruled by hurt and pride, determined to believe that what had happened to her was somehow, some way all her mother's fault, refusing to admit to herself in the heat of the moment that any blame could be attached to her or that there was the slightest excuse for her mother's actions. And again, the closeness which had tied her and her mother so strongly since her father's death had instilled an image of her in Wendy's mind that no human being could possibly live up to, and a love which bordered on adoration--the combination once so binding was now reversed, and the girl was enraged and bitter with the feeling of having been betrayed.

"Sure it is," Clyde said snidely, coming over. He, too, was now enjoying the scene. It was the perfect aftermath to his revenge, and after seeing that the older man wasn't the least bit concerned about covering himself or trying to stammer out some stupid reason for having fucked the girl, he saw that where once the two females might have caused him and the man untold damage-- legally and socially--now the tables had been turned. And Wendy had been the one to do it, with her stuck-up, snotty bitchiness; he didn't want Mrs. Franklin to suffer however, and only wanted to make things more difficult for the daughter, so he sneered at Wendy, contemptuous of her facade of righteous indignation. He ogled her outrageous stance, the sticky cum from Preston's many orgasms plastered to her pubic curls and alabaster skin, her nipples still hard from their arousal and wet from their many kissings, and her firm, tender body which was covered with the prints of the strong hands which had gripped her.

"You're a fine one to talk, you little prick-teaser," he snarled. "Wouldn't let me fuck you last night, but you sure loved it here with this guy. So what makes you Miss Snow-White when you find out that your mom isn't any saint? It's not different at all."

"You--" Wendy was beside herself with fury. "You bastard! Don't you dare talk to me like that! I could kill you!"

"What for?" Preston asked calmly, looking up. "Why should you want to kill him?"

"For... For..." the girl gasped, choking. She waved her hands at her mother. "For this!"

"Mm," the man said, pursing his lips. "Would this be your boyfriend you were telling me about? Clyde?"

"He's no boyfriend of mine!"

"But he was fucking your mother, and now you want to kill him."

A low moan of agony bubbled from Marleen's lips and she sobbed in a limp heap on the sand in a futile effort to cover her shame.

"Yes!" Wendy snapped at Preston, "for fucking my mother!"

"In that case, doesn't your mother have the right to kill me first? Weren't we fucking before they were? Well? Aren't you naked, caught in the act? You call your mother a whore and a nymphomaniac, but if that's true, aren't you the same?"

"But she's my mother!" Wendy cried out, shaken by the onslaught of the two males. "Was she horrified that her daughter was being practically raped? No! She got turned on and ended up rutting like some beast, like a bitch with your damned dog, only with a boy half her age! That's the difference, Mr. Preston!"

"Ohhhh," the mother wailed, cringing as if the words she heard were lashings from a barbed whip. "God forgive me, God forgive us all." She stretched up, her hands clasped imploringly in front of her toward Wendy. "You forgive me, my child. Please say you do."

Wendy only turned her back. "I'll never forgive you for what you did. Spying on me like some horny old voyeur in a peep-show, getting your kicks, ending up screwing Clyde."

"Oh, darling, I couldn't help myself. You mustn't hate me, Wendy, you mustn't. I've been so long without a man..."

"So she saw us," Preston threw back. "Big deal. So she got excited by it, well that's human, too. Sex is exciting, Wendy; why do you think there's so much of it around? Look at the ads, the books, the films. Jesus, grow up and stop being such a prude."

"A prude!" Wendy blurted. "I'm not a prude!"

"You sure the hell are. You loved fucking with me, and yet you refuse to allow your mother the same God-given privilege, and refuse to admit that you were doing the exact same thing, right down to getting hot watching! You did get hot, didn't you, watching your mother fingering herself last night."

"No," she said too quickly, blushing. "I was sickened."

"You... you saw me?" Marleen asked incredulously and in a hushed, hoarse voice. "You saw... ?" Oh God, it was worse than ever!

"Well, I don't care if I did get hot," Wendy snapped defensively at Preston. "You sound as if you think it was great that my mother was doing it with Clyde while watching us."

"I do... as long as she enjoyed it," he replied smugly.

"And, and I bet you'd like to fuck her yourself!"

"Yeah, I would, she'd be damned fine." He grinned lasciviously. "Fuck a hell of a lot like you, I'd guess."

"Ohhhhh!" the disturbed teenager moaned, and she whirled around and dashed from the beach, tears of humiliation and confusion, anger and bitterness flying from her eyes, the shock of finding her mother making love to Clyde coupled with her own loss of innocence and the smarting remarks by Preston too much for her dazed, benumbed senses to handle. Her only thought was to run-- run anywhere as long as it was away from there. She crashed and stumbled down the path, not minding the briars and whipping branches that seemed to try and stop her. There was no more she could say or do, not now, not at any time. She'd never go back to her mother; never, never, never!

"Wendy!" Clyde yelled, and spun to start after her, but Preston placed a restraining hand on his arm, preventing the boy from hurtling in chase for the girl. "Let go! Let go, you son of bitch!" Clyde roared at the man. "I've got to get to her before-- -"

"Before nothing," Preston said sternly. "There's not a thing you can do for her right now, and you'd only make matters worse. Believe me. Stay here."

"But--"

"Her mother is the one who should go after Wendy."

From the quivering, wretched woman lying on the ground came the murmuring, trembling chant, "No... No... No."

"Yes, Marleen," Preston said, hunkering his naked body down beside her. "You must talk to her, somehow convince her that what she saw and did wasn't some horrid sin."

Mrs. Franklin felt as if she was made of molten lead, her muscles ties of spasming knots which made her want to jump, but the pain in her mind throbbed with an irrational heat which forced her to lie still. She couldn't think, couldn't act... everything was secondary to the shame and remorse she wallowed in, the indelible self-accusation that she was everything her daughter had called her far more damning than Wendy's invectives. What difference did it make whether Wendy was being made love to, what excuse was it that her child was doing it first? None--for that was what Wendy was, a child, easily led astray; she as her mother should be there to save her, to defend her innocence from sensuality instead of becoming a lewd partner in the wild debauchery. Her long entombed desires, bursting into freedom from the erotic presence of Preston, the brandy, and then the lascivious sight on the beach were the reasons for her actions, but not exonerations. She wanted to die...

"Listen to me, Marleen," Preston said softly.

"No, go away," she mewled defenselessly. "Leave me alone..."

"You want your daughter to forgive you, don't you?"

"Yes, yes, but she won't. She can't."

"Nonsense! She shouldn't have to forgive you, because there's nothing to forgive..."

"Oh God, there is," she croaked fervently. "I was like an animal, just like your dog's bitches in heat, just like Wendy said."

"You were a human being. A woman, enjoying a man the way nature intended you to, and built half of your body to, and regulates your chemistry too. I told Wendy to be honest with herself, and I'm telling you the same thing, and if you'll be honest, you'll see that you had one hell of a good time and nobody was harmed, not as long as you don't go around thinking sex is dirty."

"I never had another man except my husband," Marleen groaned. "Marriage... love... fidelity..." she babbled in a husky broken shell of a voice.

"Sure, and when you find a man to love again, then the sex you have will be fuller and more meaningful than any other, but there's also the sensible truth that sex for physical gratification is also an important part to a healthy person's life. Now stop blaming yourself for being what you are and go after Wendy. She needs you..."

For a moment, the mother hesitated in mindless turmoil, trying to sort out her upheaval of moral outlook. The amorality which Preston was propositioning was against everything she'd ever believed in or taught Wendy to revere, and he was wrong... And yet, she had liked seeing her daughter and Preston making love, liked it and became excited by it and had reveled in Clyde's young penis driving hotly up inside her vagina--and it had been all too obvious that her daughter had loved Preston's cock inside her, too. She shook her head; how could she even admit that she wanted it this way? The revelation that she did made matters even worse, bothering her still more, for now she was sure she was sick and perverted, feeling no true shame for her actions, but only an emptiness and ache inside her belly which was even now crying out for more. Her flesh had not only betrayed her, but she knew intuitively it would again and again, if and when the opportunities arose.

Slowly, like an automaton, she rose and straightened her wrinkled dress. She averted her eyes, wet and puffed, from Clyde and the man who had taken her daughter's virginity, a shiver of nausea rippling through her as she considered once again Wendy and her hatred. But in the one fact that she had to go after her daughter again, Preston was right. She had to make every effort to reconcile their disgraces, to rebond the tight adhesion between them. It was with that one slim hope, and the prayer that Wendy would have cooled down a little by the time she reached her, that made Marleen lurch forward in the direction her daughter had fled.

"What do we do now?" Clyde asked, puzzled.

"We wait," Preston said confidently. "We wait and let nature take her course. And then, in a little while, we'll go looking for them. You, me... and King."

Wendy Franklin, once virgin, once so sure of herself, slumped to the moss-covered ground in a small glade, panting exhaustedly from her running exertion and emotional frenzy. Her skin was pale and flowing with cold water in place of blood, and she was as confused a little girl as any could have been. She lay down, letting the last warming rays of the sun filter through the trees and dapple her soft skin, and she tried to sort out her ambivalent feelings now that the first, blushing shock of all that had transpired was wearing off.

Mentally she was enmeshed in the guilt of having succumbed to temptation and allowed herself to display her sweet; tender pussy to Clyde last night, and abandon herself to David Preston today, and she swallowed and looked ashamedly down at her young, firm body with its snowy breasts and flat stomach and dark triangle of fleecy pubic hair, and she had to admit that there weren't any signs of dissipation, that outwardly there was no way of telling that she had just been soundly fucked--except for the dried patches of Preston's sperm on her matted pubic hair and white, trembling thighs. Miserably, she realized that although her dream had been hopelessly shattered, that now her husband--whoever he might be someday--would no longer be able to tenderly enter her and possess her as a virginal bride, she wasn't entirely filled with abomination. There were the long-standing agonies to contend with, but they were in the back of her mind now, all of the warnings she'd been weaned on so much hot air after seeing her mother and Clyde.

Her mother. She couldn't believe it about her, a woman so prim and proper about sex and morality, suddenly rolling in lewdness as if she was... she was... Wendy sat up, her eyes wide open and her mouth agape at the shock of the realization which tore through her reveries. Say it, she commanded herself; be honest with yourself if with no one else--and to the woods and the silent world around her, she said it out loud:

"My mother was acting like me!"

The trees bounced her words, making them echo in her ears, and for the first time, the young teenager saw the wisdom in Preston's remarks. There was no difference between her and her mother; both of them were capable of sex! She saw now that her lashings were irrational, her accusations unjustified, and her mother's anguished plea to be forgiven and understood the really important thing. She bit her lower lip, wishing she could go back and change what had happened, and beg her mother for forgiveness and understanding and love in return, and then perhaps the two of them could make a joint effort to face their collective lives ahead with meaning and pride.

Wendy was no longer filled with anger or loathing, but with a new and consuming closeness and love for her mother who had also just been fucked soundly by her boyfriend, just as she had been fucked by Preston. She wanted to rush back and tell her mother this discovery, for she vowed that from this second on, there would be no more false pretenses, no guilt or shame about what they were or would be in the future, and this knowing and sharing would bring them together closer than ever before.

The lovely young child smiled, suddenly free, and she stretched out and thought that later, when things had calmed down, she and Mother could have a real heart-to-heart talk privately and openly. And she would tell her mother all about how she had lost her virginity today and wasn't sorry about it, any more than she was sorry that Clyde and her mother had been watching her and doing it at the same time. It was exciting thinking about that... about the way David Preston had split her little hymen, ravished her cunt, her breasts swollen and aching from his hands and lips, and the way she'd willingly allowed the man to fuck her over and over...

And hidden behind her had been her mother, on all fours, her dress hiked around her waist, writhing in some lewd dance of lust, her body arching and quaking from the glistening hard cock that was being pumped demonically into her vagina--the vagina which had produced Wendy...

The marijuana, fed in such large quantities into her system, but temporarily balanced by the trauma of being found by, and finding out about, her mother, came back stronger than ever, making the erotic scenes vivid in Wendy's mind. Once more her heated blood beat headily with its effects, forcing her brain to dream and her flesh to react...

She looked down at her nakedness once more, the little girl exploring her breasts and loins as the salacious thoughts filtered behind her eyes, and she found her body still sensitive in a delightful, tingling way, her moist young pussy still swollen and pink, her soft fringe of curling pubic hair parted to show her wet, tantalizing little vaginal hole. She slowly drew a finger there in curiosity, wondering what it was like now that a man's penis had invaded it, and she concluded that it was only slightly larger and far more sensitive than before; she let her finger draw its way from her tiny hairless anus to her throbbing little clitoris... David's cum is still wet and deep in my tight, newly awakened pussy, she thought warmly, no longer subject to the shameful feeling of sordidness she'd felt before.

Wendy placed a hand on her tender breasts then, and she recalled how she'd watched with lewd fascination as her mother had massaged her own breasts while masturbating last night, and then she remembered how Preston had taken hers and made them come alive. Yes, alive, taut and puckish in uplifting supplication, and made her beg for his huge, ramrod cock to salve her palpitating cunt. She squeezed her breasts, feeling the surging of passion, and her thumb flicked gingerly over the hard, quivering nipple...