He responded by slipping his tongue deep into her mouth, probing it to the same rhythm as he was fucking her cunt.

The mattress squeaked as they rolled on the bed together, their fucking growing faster, harder. His hands were all over her, resting now and then on her ass cheeks, squeezing the supple flesh there, now and then probing into the hot, sweaty cleft between her buns.

Brenda pressed her tits into his chest, loving the way her nipples ran across his hairy chest. She was just about to pull him on top of her when the overhead light flicked on.

"Huh?"

They blinked rapidly, squinting against the harsh glare.

"Get your hands off my mother!"

"Bobby!" Brenda stiffened, her whole body seemed to go numb.

There he was, standing in the doorway, his shock of red hair contrasting eerily with his pale skin. He had his father's rifle in his hands, and he was glaring at David, his green eyes flashing.

"You heard me! Get your hands off my mother!" Bobby cocked the rifle.

David pulled his prick free of Brenda's pussy and in an effort to protect her, covered her body with his own.

"No, David! Do as he says!" Brenda was numb with terror, but she knew she had to take control of the situation. She turned to Bobby, her mouth suddenly very dry. "Put the gun down, Bobby! This minute!"

Bobby glared at her, his face so pale that he looked like a zombie. He raised the gun and peered down the barrel, getting David locked into the sights.

"Bobby! No!"

He raised his head and said: "Tell him to leave, Mother. Tell him to get out of your bed, get his pants on and leave!" His voice was steadier, but there was no question he meant business.

Brenda turned to David. "I think you should leave, David. I can handle this. Really."

"I won't leave you, Brenda."