After counting off sixty seconds, Rita went to the door and slid it open. Mitzi had her clothes on, and Tommy's fly was closed. Both were red-faced.

Rita smiled. "Oh, hi, Mitzi. It's nice to see you again."

"Hello, Mrs. Baylor," Mitzi said, showing a forced smile. Her breathing was still unsteady.

"Tommy, don't forget you have tests tomorrow."

"Right, Mom," he said. "I'll get the car keys. Be right back, Mitzi."

Rita sat in a side chair, facing the couch, her high-heeled shoes primly together.

"Well, Mitzi," she said, "I don't get to see much of you anymore."

Mitzi smiled like a barracuda. "Really, Mrs. Baylor, I'm more interested in Tommy than in you."

"Obviously."

"That's a nice dress you're wearing," the bitch said. "It comes from another generation, doesn't it?"

"We have different values," Rita said. "I have a high regard for my femininity."

"And your high heels? Are they to make you look as tall as me?"

Rita suppressed the urge to smack her. Maybe the dark-haired girl was right, but it would take more than heels to make her look tall. She just shrugged.

Tommy came back, dangling the car keys, and rescued the conversation before Rita could strangle the impudent bitch.

"Ready, Mitzi?" he asked. She nodded. "Back in a little bit, Mom."

When they were gone, Rita stood and went to the mirror beside the fireplace and looked at her trim figure. What could Tommy see in that damned little bitch? She could be beautiful, but she was just an eighteen-year-old slob, rude and sloppy, not at all fit to keep company with Rita's clean-cut good-mannered son.

Besides, the rude bitch just wanted Tommy's cock. Had Rita been a few minutes later coming up from the basement, the bitch would have gotten Tommy to fuck her.

What then? She was uneducated in other things, she would know nothing about birth control either. Next thing she would get knocked up. Tommy, being the decent young man he was, would feel compelled to marry her and take care of her, giving up any hope of the college education that was to start in a few months.