Makes no mark upon what is

That night, Melanie lay awake. Staring at patterns in the ceiling. She had called to let Stacy’s parents know she would be staying over again. They hardly seemed to mind. It had become such an established degree of trust that the call was just a courtesy really. Yet, all the way through she had felt a lump in her throat. Panicking that they would be able to tell through her voice that things had changed. That she had taken an active role in their child’s descent toward whatever apocalyptic, hyper-sexed lifestyle she was throwing herself toward. That she had felt the warm, soft squeeze of her innards and surreptitiously sucked the flavour of her from quivering fingers afterwards.

Then she had ordered them all food and sat through a movie afterwards… all snuggled up together on the couch. Stacy settling that young head in the lap of her son and sucking away as was her want. Just another evening in the Jay’s household. This ‘accepting and welcoming’ environment she had provided for them. A place where, later that evening she could listen to the yelps and slaps echoing through the house. As Mark unleashed his frustrations upon the girl’s rear end again, while Stacy loved every second and spank. Loved every unsheathed thrust he made into her tight, teenage rectum. Until he collapsed from exhaustion next to her, the results of several back-to-back expulsions dribbling from her sphincter.

Ms Jay knew all this because she had been hovering at the door, left half open by those young lovers who held no fear of her judgement at all. Out of sight, she had thought… save for the moment she had caught a glint of Stacy’s eyes: reflected in a small mirror on the far side of the room. There, to her shame… the woman of the household had let her thin gown fall loose… showing what her hands were doing while she silently watched them. It was terrible, and shameful, and wholly against everything she should represent as a role model in these blossoming young adult’s lives. Yet nothing had made her feel so alive in years. This whole day had seemed like an unreal nightmare… except one that she kept fantasising about returning to. Something had become unhooked from reality all of a sudden… and now it felt like she could do anything her heart, or loins, longed for.

Through the silence of the night… came the sound she had been waiting for. Never certain that she was certain it would come. The soft pad of light feet upon the landing carpet. The slight creak of someone slipping through her also-open door. She was laid out naked beneath her light sheets, unable to deal with the stifling press of a full duvet… even in the growing chill of fall. There was a sense of new weight upon the far end of her mattress, and those sheets were gently lifted. Something moved carefully up between her legs and soft hair brushed tickling against her inner thighs. When, finally, a tongue found its way to the very fork of her womanhood… her every sense was straining out to catch the sensations of this moment. Outside a light rain had began to splatter against her window. The smell of coming winter just hinting upon a breeze. The occasional car rumbled past the road outside, casting moving headlights across the curtains. The lump beneath her coverings sometimes rustled a little as its creator made the subtle movements of its task. She wound her hands down to tangle gratefully upon its bobbing head. Then simply let her own caught breaths flow out into the darkness, the pleasure that was bringing them overwriting all else.

She woke up the next morning with Stacy drooling upon her chest. The pretty, naked teen seeming so sweet and harmless while asleep. At some unrecognised hour later, her son appeared in the doorway. Looking rather sad and lost and admonished to have woken up alone. Ms Jay’s heart welled up to see such pain upon her baby’s face… so the wordless invitation barely needed making. He slipped into the covers on the far side and once again made his friend the sleeping meat of their matter. It wasn’t long before his knowledge that he could clearly overcame all further reasoning. The Mother felt her only child slide his way into the unconscious girl in her arms, once again. She felt this extra soul she had adopted into her household be roused blearily into the world by his thrusting. None of this could possibly be acceptable. None of this could ever be shared with the world outside. But, here and now… at the freshness of dawn and in the warmth of each other’s company… It seemed right. It seemed good.