"Yes," she said quickly. "I… I loved it. But you shouldn't be here. You should be with Betty and…"

"Betty?" Mike asked, raising his eyebrows. "Betty who?"

Gina laughed in spite of herself. Christ, what she wouldn't give for her son's attitude. To take it where you can get it, even if it's your own mother. She had been brought up in a completely different time, when stolen love in the back seat of a Chevy was hushed up. She could even remember feeling terribly embarrassed when a boy had seen her slip!

Was the world going straight to hell on a fast train?

"Something wrong?" Mike asked. "You look funny."

How could Gina even begin to explain her emotions, when she didn't know, herself, what she felt.

"I guess I'll jump on that train," she said, resignation in her voice.

"Train?" Mike asked, repeating the word as if it were somehow slightly foreign.

"Nothing," Gina whispered, pulling him down on her body. "Just… fuck me. Show me how you fuck all those girls."

Mike gave her another guarded look, then grinned. Obviously his mother was taking this thing pretty seriously. But why? People over thirty sure acted strange sometimes. And he knew from experience. There had been that woman when he was fifteen, his first real introduction to love. She had been about his mother's age. And sex wasn't just fun with her, it was… well, everything. He thought he'd never get out of that alive.

"What's the matter?" Gina asked, responding to his sad expression.

"Aw, nothing," Mike said. "It's just that I get the impression you think we're committing a horrible sin, that's all."

"Well, aren't we?" Gina asked carefully.

"Look, we're two people who want it, right?" Mike said, animation in his voice. "So what's wrong with having a little fun?"

Gina felt a flash of anger. Was it "fun" to screw anything with a hole in it? Couldn't there be affection, some other emotional bond?