Mother's New Boarder Chapter 3 Marleen Franklin closed the shop at seven o'clock, five minutes after Wendy's current boyfriend, Clyde Brooks, picked her daughter up in his sports car. She thought of Wendy as she walked up to the dark and empty apartment after she'd done the ledgers for the day, thought of how much a boon and companion she'd been as well as a child of which to be proud. She wasn't worried about Wendy being with boys; the doctor had assured her that Wendy was still a virgin as of the last checkup, and she was a good girl by nature. Marleen was well aware of the traps and snares young people could fall into in this day and age, and she was doing her best to keep Wendy from falling into any of them. She'd thought she'd fairly well succeeded, and looked forward to the day when Wendy would be an equal, an adult and mature, and no longer her little child. Not that Wendy was a child any longer; one look at her in the shower and soaping her full-shaped breasts or now matured vaginal area told her that. And Marleen had looked, and looked whenever Wendy was displaying herself, because she was proud of having produced such a fine girl-woman and drawn with loving tenderness to her daughter. And yet... there were times when she'd watched Wendy's snub-nosed, freckle-faced innocence combined with the lush provocativeness of upright, taut breasts and flat belly and gently sloping thighs where her triangle of soft pubic fleece lay between so prominently, and Marleen had been worried that perhaps Wendy was emerging into maturity a little too fast. But then she'd laugh away her silly fears, for the world was simply spinning faster these days, and hadn't she gotten married at nineteen? Upstairs, she puttered around the kitchen, a bit sad and feeling lonely with Wendy out. The new tenant was constantly on her mind, and as hard as she tried to dismiss their new boarder, Dave Preston, from her thoughts, the more he seemed to come back to haunt her. He'd been in and out of the apartment all of that day, with his flaxen-haired girlfriend, Gloria something-or-other. She looked like a whore, smelled of cheap rose water, and chewed gum; Marleen had not thought much of her, although she had to admit that the woman had a fine and sensual body and knew how to move it. She didn't walk -- she strutted! Not that it was any of her business what Preston did or didn't do with that woman, she chastised herself... She undressed for bed early, deciding to go to lie down and watch some TV from the portable set in the bedroom and just plain relax. It had been a harrowing day what with one thing and another, and she was awfully tired... She stood naked after stripping her clothes off and hanging them up, examining herself critically in the light of the bedroom before switching on the TV. She took the pins out of her hair and let the long silky strands fall; they covered her breasts partially, with only the dark aureoles and nipples peeking through, and the bottom crest of translucent flesh mounded below the hairline. She let her eyes move across her still flat plane of stomach, past the few stretch marks left over from Wendy's birth, down to the softly curling pubic hair which covered her pinkly hidden vaginal lips. Then she stretched, throwing her hair over her shoulder, and looked at her smooth satiny buttocks, the rippled muscles in the back of her slim, tapered thighs, and shapely, slim legs. I have a good body, she thought. I really do. Some day, for some man, it would please with the same intensity and passion with which it had pleased Howie, her late husband. Until then, all she could do was hold it in reserve. She hadn't been bothered by the possible aging of her charms until today, strangely to say -- oh, she'd noticed her reflection in the mirror and looked at herself as she was now, but today she'd made the startling discovery that the original fires Howie had kindled in her many long years ago weren't cold embers but banked coals, threatening to burst into flame from the nearness of an attractive, magnetic male beast. Marleen lay down on the cool sheets on the bed and stretched out with a low, grateful sigh. That's what had been the matter with her today: she'd found to her surprise, and yes, to her fear as well, that she was still sexually responsive and yearning for love and the chance to love in return. She tossed fretfully, naked and uncovered on the bed, the stifling summer heat less oppressive to her than her own inner fires, and kept asking herself the two most important questions of her life: when a woman is widowed early in her married life, how much does she owe her child? And: can romance live in life at thirty-six and after? Damn that David Preston for coming here today! she cursed. Damn, damn, damn! He was the one who'd made her so horridly aware of the gifts she had to offer, and the unrequited pangs of not having a man to whom to give them totally and forever, who would appreciate the extent of those gifts... "Mmmmmmmm!" Then: "Ahhhhhhh!" in a voice which obviously belonged to Preston. Marleen lay rigid on the bed, holding her breath, realizing with blushing embarrassment that she was unwontedly overhearing her new tenant and that blonde girl 'visitor" making love in his bedroom... "Run your fingers along my balls..." "Suck, baby, suck my cock!" She couldn't continue listening! That woman, that Gloria was taking her boarder's throbbing penis in her mouth! How utterly perverse... But Marleen was only able to lie motionless, caught in a strange series of involuntary sensations as she listened against her will and judgment to the salacious conversation muted by the thin wall separating the two bedrooms. "Ahhhhh, baby... oh, the inside of your mouth is like melted honey. Oh Jesus, that's nice..." I've got to get out of here! the distraught widow cried out to herself. But it was as though iron shackles were fettering her to the bed... "You really love to suck cock, Gloria... Ohhh, ahhhh, mmm!" Stop it! Stop it! Marleen screamed silently. But as she struggled mentally, she looked down the expanse of her smooth, taut body, and saw that physically she was reacting in a way entirely opposite to what her head was telling her. The nipples on her gently curved breasts were peaking out of their folds, becoming hard and raised, like cherries on top of whipping cream. A tender aching was beginning to tingle between her legs, and when in wonderment and disbelief she actually touched one of them, the contact of her fingers intensified the throbbing in her loins to where she could no longer ignore its presence or what it signified. Dear heaven above, she was becoming sexually stimulated by the lewd actions taking place next door! No, no, it couldn't be happening... but it was, and her entire being quivered on the bed. "Gloria... suck harder milk my cock dry, you little hot bitch! Ahhhh!" The inside of Marleen's mouth was dry and she ran her tongue moistly over her lips to dispel the arid, cottony taste, and though she tried to blank her mind, it seemed to lewdly insist on projecting the image of what must be taking place the few feet away. David was on the bed... yes, that was it, and Gloria was kneeling over him stripped naked, her long lemon-yellow hair fanning over his belly and abdomen, and she was taking his blood-swollen shaft in her mouth and sucking it, up and down, up and down... A wave of shame caused her to flush a violent crimson. She'd never allowed Howie to kiss her between her thighs, or kiss him down there in return... and here she was, dreaming of the carnal, degenerate act and working herself up to an impossible frenzy. She was aroused, all right, and for the first time in six years at that, and there was no use trying to delude herself any differently. If Howie had been there, she'd have gladly opened her legs wide and accepted his penis up inside her, for she needed it... she needed release, and needed it desperately... "That's wonderful... tickle my balls, baby. Ohhhh, I'm about ready to cum in your mouth, Gloria... ohhh, suck harder!" Marleen continued to mold and knead her breast, slowly capitulating to her physical hunger, her anguished needs which were spreading like an insidious cancer through her flesh, and only the reassured knowledge that what she was doing would be a secret to everybody but herself helped tame the shame and horror of her manipulations. Her other hand was moving to her wide-splayed thighs, wet with the secretions of her excitement, and gently she fingered her soft, writhing skin, teasing her still softer pubic hair and inner vaginal lips as she was held in the overwhelming grip of her powerful passions. Her finger contacted the trembling erection of her throbbing little clitoris and she gasped then in total defeat, rolling helplessly on the sheets with the obscene delight of touching herself down there. From next door, David Preston was yelling: "I'm going to cum, baby... ahhhh, suck it, suck it nowwwww!" The fire burned more insatiably in her cunt, and demanded more to feed its lewd furnace of cravings. Marleen pictured the nakedly locked bodies next door and she inserted her finger deep into the passion moistened mouth of her pulsating vagina, drawing her knees up and her buttocks off the bed, high in the air as she arched with the maddening rhythm of her finger -- now two fingers -- screwing deeper and deeper up into herself. She could see in her mind's eye the naked woman's hotly ovalling lips and David Preston's humping, jerking motions as he thrust his hips up toward her slavering mouth, and Marleen finger-fucked herself faster and faster, nothing existing except the delirious coming of her impending climax with theirs... * * * "Get out of the car, and don't ever come around again," Clyde Brooks sneered. He gunned the small engine in his MG with impatience. "I want to go out and find a real woman now and take the bad taste out of my mouth." "Clyde, please --" "Stop your mewling, baby. Out." Crying abjectly, the terrified and brow-beaten young girl flung herself out of the sports car and ran to the gate, having a difficult time unlocking it with her house key because of the tears streaming wetly from her swollen eyes. Her mascara was running down her cheeks, staining her livid skin, so red and mottled from her anguish and tormented heart. She trembled as she unlocked the door to the apartment, pausing to take a deep breath and smooth out her still damp skirt and blouse. Her head was whirling confusedly with the enveloping whirlwinds of her thoughts and emotions, the effect of the traumatic evening, the wine, the nearness of being fucked for the first time filling her marrow and blood with quaking distress. She had to talk to her mother -- Mother was her Rock of Gibraltar, her foundation for what she believed, her point of faith for her morals and actions... But Mother wasn't in the livingroom, even though the lights were on. She must be in the bedroom, the daughter concluded, seeing the light on in there and a strange, squeaking noise coming from within... She crossed hesitantly on the carpeting, her flats making not the slightest noise, and then she was at the open doorway... and stood stone-still, drinking in the unbelievable scene... She recoiled, choking back a cry of astonishment! A dreaded chill shot up her spine, blinding her brain momentarily from the shock of the carnal exhibition before her, and she slumped against the door-jamb, utterly speechless with incomprehension. Insensibly, she wasn't filled with loathing and hatred, even as her mind recovered sufficiently to put into mental words the lustful tableaux on the bed. Her mother was lying on her back in an unnatural position of love-making, only there wasn't any partner! She was fingering herself and rubbing her breasts, the whole of her soft, hair-lined vaginal slit pinkly open to Wendy's wide-eyed stare, and she was moaning with passion-crazed, clenched-mouth delight, the chant slurred. "Ohhhhh... Ohhhhh, ohhhhh..." Marleen's hollowed buttocks were lifted several inches off the bed as she struggled upward desperately trying to absorb the entirety of her hand in her hungry cunt, a wet slavering sound drifting across the room to burn her daughter's ears, and she flexed her thighs, squeezing them rhythmically up and down the smooth poles of her fingers and then Wendy heard the muffled shouts from the next door apartment: "That's it, Gloria... I'm going to cummmm! I'm going to cum in your mouth. Suck, baby, suck my cock!" That new tenant! Wendy reeled inwardly from the brazen, lewd implications, and she blinked the way an owl does as she tried to sort out and rationally absorb the total knowledge of what was going on. David Preston was in his room with some girl named Gloria... and she was sucking his cock... and here, before her uncomprehending view, her mother was reveling in the depravity of their acts, obscenely masturbating with all the abandonment of a slut off the streets, doing to herself what Wendy had been taught to consider as one of the more loathsome practices, a defilement and degradation on the parts of a female which should be kept clean in spirit and flesh. Hadn't her camp counselor warned her about self-abuse? Hadn't Old Lady Witherspoon in her Health Class told them all that such practices can turn you mad and cause pimples and only degenerates did such things to themselves? Hadn't her mother always told her to keep her vagina and breasts holy and to keep her respect in her soul? My God, she'd never dreamed of such a pagan display of abandonment, for while the cries of craving filtering from next door were terrible, the idea of kissing a penis so unthinkable, it was to be expected of others, of weaker mortals... But now, twisting obscenely in front of her was her own mother! Her Rock of Gibraltar crumbled, her foundation cracked and dissolved like sand before her eyes... She had placed her mother on a pedestal, made her God-like the way a child does when dependent on the wisdom of the parent; but the time must come for disenchantment, or the child can never fully grow and reach mature independence. Most often the awareness that Mother -- or Father -- is not perfect and has feet of clay comes over a period of time and is apt to be called "teenage rebellion," and in healthy situations this eventually turns into a young adult seeking his own way but regarding his parents in a new and better light, in the respect due a human being by another, not in adoring worship. The trouble was, Wendy had not let herself evolve to that point, for she was extremely close to her mother and had always thought of her in terms of someone superior. This, now, was cataclysmic to her, a sudden rupture of everything she'd deemed holy and untainted, and when added to the rest of the evening's horrors, made her teeter on the brink of insanity, like abruptly finding out that God doesn't exist after having devoted your whole life to priest-hood, or discovering that the absolute Rights of the world were Wrongs, or at least only Maybes. So as she watched her mother play with her nipples, peak them and roll them between her forefinger and thumb, and jerk and lunge her lower body as if devil-possessed with her other hand swirling among the dark black hair of her widely stretched cunt, Wendy was shattered, gaping wide-mouthed at the bouncing bed. Her brain was angered to a furious pitch of illogical rejection: her mother had only been spouting trite phrases, hypocritical platitudes which were said but not believed! All the lecturing, all the warnings to watch out for hands and mouths and the saving grace of waiting for the uncarnal love was a basket of crap! In practice, her mother was as debauched and lewd as any whore imaginable! What a God-damned fool Wendy had been -- she should have let Clyde fuck her silly tonight, and should have long ago spread her legs for every boy who came along. Actions speak louder than, and are worth a thousand of, words -- and Wendy saw the truth. Or, she thought she saw the truth... for Marleen Franklin, having fallen off the pedestal she had been placed on in Wendy's mind, was no longer a white icon, but a black devil... the truth of being a little of both, of being grey and human, hadn't yet entered Wendy's small world... Wendy told herself to go in and tear her mother from her wild spectacle of unadulterated passion, but she couldn't. She couldn't even turn away and leave her mother to her own ungodly revelries, for she found herself still not revolted and sickened by seeing the naked body spread-eagled in lewdness on the bed, but wildly fascinated -- and why not? she asked herself... isn't that the way she should be now, not that she'd woken up to the facts? But as much as she wanted to reject her mother, there was still the unconscious tug of love and devotion running below the surface of her immediate reactions, making her keep her eyes on that black pubic mound of hair that was being so blatantly aroused, making her stay for the exact opposite reason she was telling herself was the force which kept her at the door. Love... hate; often the difference is hard to distinguish, frequently co-mingling in ambivalent attitudes. "Ohhh... Umm... Ohhhh... Suck, Gloria, suck..." Wendy heard the sounds and saw her mother's eyes grow glassy and sticky lubrications seep from between her smooth, fleshy buttocks as they ground and bumped in her wild ride to ecstasy. Then, Wendy groaned inwardly, her breath hot and heavy in her constricted chest, there was where I was born, between those long legs and downy soft black curls was the heart of my conception. Marleen, unaware that her daughter was so enraptured, yet so destroyed, by watching her finger herself to orgasm, was squirming lewdly in the throes of her passion, seeing mentally their boarder's huge, glistening cock ramming in and out of the hotly sucking woman's clasping mouth, and her hands became that cock, and her gasps matched those of the surging bodies on the other side of the wall. Oh, how she wished Howie was here to pump his cum into her hot, searing passage, for the fingers weren't enough as her thoughts centered on the thick member ravishing the other woman's lips, and she had to have more but there was nothing except her fingers. In desperation she reached up over her buttocks with the hand which had been working her breasts and searched the wet anal crevice, and squirmed a finger in the tiny puckered rectum between her moon-shaped buttocks. She gasped from her haste, as the finger dug painfully into the soft, rubbery walls of her ass, sending a sharp jolt through her, then electric tingles of darting pleasure raced through her again and her face colored crimson as she felt her climax coming, coming with a great roar. "Ahhhhhh!" Preston screamed through the partition. "I'm there!" Wendy shuttered with emphatic identification as she sensed that the people in the other apartment were cumming and her mother was responding, and her own barely tried genitals ached like a seething volcano, ready to burst but not stimulated to that apex yet. She projected her own wishful fantasies as she looked at her mother's vaginal mound and tight, hairless anus being insanely ravished by her own fingers, sucked in her breath as she saw a mighty shudder break in waves across her lust-filled face, and clenched her thighs shut as her mother moaned out her self-induced orgasm. 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...