Mary Jenkins - A mother_s forbidden passion

The more Bette drank of the champagne, the more warmly contented she began to become, putting thoughts of Debbie Mason completely out of her mind, reveling in the feeling of being wanted, cared for, at last after all the months of desperate loneliness. She felt happy, excited, with the potential salvaging of some of what she had lost when she made her foolish decision five years past. And not only these emotions and hopes and joys were once again living inside Bette Clark, another, baser need began to make itself felt in her mind, a restless wanting that she had not allowed herself to feel since Hale Bixby had forced her out of his home and his life, but which was reborn strongly in her present mood.

She had not had sex, had not had the release of her strong sexual passions, in six full months. She needed, wanted, a man – right now.

Bette moistened her lips, recklessly draining more of the champagne. She was completely, painfully aware of Ken sitting next to her – handsome, quiet, virile Ken, who resembled David so much, who had a lean, hard-muscled body just as David had had, who possibly would be a far better lover than David had ever been.

No, no! Bette thought. Oh God, no, I can't think like that, I can't! He's almost like a brother to me, and he's been so kind and good these past few weeks and before that, too, taking Tony in, giving him a home I could destroy everything if I let my feelings run away with me, I could make him hate me, make him turn me out and away from Tony. No, as much as I might want a man, want Ken at this moment, I can't I can't I have to stop thinking about such things because they're impossible, completely and totally.

Suddenly, Bette felt the pressure of Ken's warm, masculine thigh against her own as he moved closer to her on the couch, and she turned to face him. His eyes were shining, his cheeks flushed and sheened lightly with perspiration, and his gaze locked and held with her own.

"Bette, oh Bette," he whispered huskily.

"Ken," she responded, and she said his name with a kind of awed incredulousness, as she realized that the same thoughts and feelings she had just been thinking were mirrored on his face, had been in Ken's mind as well. He wanted her! He wanted Bette as much as she wanted him!

Ken, too, was aware of the growing excitement in Bette, and his heart leapt joyously. Incredible as it seemed, she felt the same as he did, the attraction was not all one-sided – Bette was hungry for his flesh, just as he was for hers! He ached to touch her, to caress her firm, full breasts, to tangle his fingers in that soft, soft blonde hair as he kissed her pink, soft lips; he ached to press her voluptuously curved body tight against his own, to love her, to fuse their bodies together in the ultimate expression of feeling. It was crazy, it was irrational, and yet he was powerless to stop the surging passion, the wild need, which consumed him, especially now that he knew how Bette was feeling at this moment. His penis jerked into slow arousal in his trousers, and his testicles began to throb with building sperm as he stared into Bette's eyes, irrefutably saw the desire growing there as it was growing in his own eyes. Neither of them could deny their passion to the other, not now, not and have it believed.

Simultaneously, they both leaned forward to place their empty champagne glasses on the coffee table. Then they leaned back against the couch again, their bodies turned toward one another, and continued to lock their eyes together. Bette squeezed hers tightly shut then, wetly parted her lips, and Ken could hold himself in check no longer. His arms lifted and pulled her to him, his mouth covered hers, completely engulfing her lips with his warm, moist ones. Bette's tongue flicked forward immediately to slip past his teeth and into his mouth, and she was moaning now, her hand encircling his neck, pressing his head tightly, molding their mouths together like the fusing of molten ore into an alloy. His fingers caressed her shoulder, moved down as if they were entities of their own that he had no command over, moved lightly over the trembling hot swell of her breast. Their tongues were sawing mercilessly in and out of one another's mouth now in an attitude of excited copulation, and Bette made tiny, mewling sounds in her throat.

Ken felt his cock stir into full, turgid hardness, and he pulled her tighter to him, reveling in the feel of her body, her mouth, for the first time, thinking wildly that she was everything he had ever thought she would be, that he had loved her all along, that nothing else mattered but her – all of her, every cell of her. His fingers closed over her soft, resilient breast, kneaded the warmly trembling flesh, his prick throbbing painfully now, his breath shuddering hotly into the beautiful blonde woman's mouth as hers was thundering into his, deep moans of desire purling from the very core of Bette's being.

She knew that this was wrong, that she ought to stop it before it was too late, but she did not want to stop it, she wanted it to happen, she wanted Ken to make love to her as she had wanted no man since Hale Bixby in the early days of their relationship. What's the matter with me? she thought dizzily. Am I really that much of a slut that I can't control myself the first night I come home oohhh but it's been so long, so long, and my pussy is on fire for Ken I can't wait to feel his penis inside me, I can't wait.

Ken guided her down on the soft couch, and now his right hand was sliding upward along her bare thigh, sliding along the hot skin up under the hem of the ice-blue dress she wore. Higher and higher it moved, causing Bette to shiver with her mounting passion, and then the tips of his fingers were touching the smooth nylon crotchband covering her vagina, slipping up and down the hotly moistening furrow as she widened her legs to assist his ministrations.

Ooooh, his fingers feel so good, they feel so good between my legs! Hurry, Ken! Ah God, hurry and finger fuck me!

Ken's probing fingers, as though anticipating her thoughts, pushed aside the flimsy elastic legband of her panties, extending his middle finger to slip it teasingly up into the wet, trembling passage of her pussy, exulting in the fevered thought that she would soon be his, that he would be putting his cock where his finger was right now very, very soon. He brought the finger up, up along the burning wetness of her passion-drenched cunt to the hardened bud of her clitoris, playing with it, reveling in the feel of her softness and the vibrating arousal of her firm, perfectly curved body, his breath exploding like the juices of orgasm from his mouth into hers, his tongue fucking between her lips mercilessly.

Then Ken removed his working finger from her clasping hot channel, and his fingers were feverish as he sought to make her naked, to remove the dress and undergarments which clothed the hot flesh that he lusted so desperately to see and touch. The dress unbuttoned easily, and Bette dazedly helped him pull it over her head, drop it onto the floor at the foot of the couch. Her bra was next, cascading onto the puddled dress, revealing the hard-nippled, quivering mounds of her full, whitely rounded breasts; then her panties, drawn slowly, slowly down over her smooth curved hips and thighs by Ken's eager fingers, while Bette obediently raised her buttocks from the couch to help him. At last her soft, fleecy blonde pubic triangle came into view, wet with the juices of her arousal, then the petal-like, softly blonde-fringed expanse of her moist hot cunt was in full view of his loving, passion-fired eyes.

The sensuously aroused woman felt spasmodic little jolts of pleasure ripple through her flesh as Ken moaned and his big hands closed over her taut, firm breasts. She heard him gasp in further delight as his thumbs rolled over the large, distended, pink-tinged nipples, making them hard – and then she felt his head lower onto her chest, felt his hot, wet mouth encompass one of the aching peaks, flicking and rolling it maddeningly with his fiery tongue. She groaned in sheer delight, and her hips began an intense, undulating rhythm on the couch as Ken continued to suck hungrily and wetly at her nipple while he moved on the couch beside her, groaning out his excitement at her perfectly preserved womanhood.