Lauralee blinked. Her SON; she had been doing all these lascivious things with her own son's wife, with a girl even younger than Robbie. But – and she frowned – but this girl did it with him, too. Bettina couldn't be a lesbian, if she enjoyed screwing men also. Could she? Lauralee was confused. Too many things were happening to her at once, and she was having difficulty coping.

On the screen across the room, someone said huskily, "Oh eat me, darling – eat my pussy."

Trembling, Lauralee reached out one hand and cupped the child's appealing breast. Her thumb and forefinger rolled the erectile nipple between them. Mesmerized, she leaned closer, and nuzzled into the dainty valley between the twin globes. They were soft and scented, rounded and beguiling. Lauralee's tongue eased out and toyed with the pink tip. Bettina shivered, but didn't take her arm down from her eyes, and Lauralee knew a lifting of confidence.

By not moving Bettina had told her silently that the girl's spectacular body was hers for the taking, for using as she saw fit. It was a strange moment, when Lauralee realized that, when she knew she could do anything with another person's naked flesh – handle it, kiss it, pat and fondle and caress – even hurt it, if she so desired.

All she wanted to do was to love this captivating body, to bring it as much pleasure as it had given her. Lauralee refused to think beyond this scintillating moment, to go past the NOW of love. Sometime, somewhere she would have to turn this radiant child back to her new husband. But she didn't want to think of that dreary moment, and put it out of her head.

Tenderly, she sucked upon the girl's nipple, relishing its flavor, its aroma lying perfumed upon her tongue. She played her hands over Bettina's flesh, over the narrow hips and across the flat stomach. Inch by inch, her fingers strayed ever closer to the charming nest of pubic hair so gleaming and soft. Lauralee touched it, and was thrilled by its silken texture, by the damp heat rising through its ringleted moss.