05-15-2004, 06:03 AM
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obsolete
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Join Date: Nov 2002
Posts: 617
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Helene had closed her eyes after placing her son's hands on her breasts, unwilling to meet his as he was forced to touch her. What that sick perv was making them do while he watched was bad enough without Max having to endure her staring at him as well. She couldn't even begin to imagine how he was feeling.
She'd told Max to think of something else -- someone else -- while he did this, believing that it would make it easier on her boy. But why wasn't it working for her? Helene bit the inside of her lip so hard that she broke the skin, but used the pain to shift her thoughts.
She concentrated now on the coppery taste of blood instead of those long slender fingers that were twirling her nipples, the gentle hands that hefted the weight of her breasts. She struggled to ignore the sensations that were being aroused elsewhere in her body. This wasn't his fault. It wasn't her fault either. Helene fought to bring her anger back to the surface, if only to diffuse the undercurrents of desire that were threatening to send her plummeting over the edge.
"I'm so sorry, Mum!"
The sadness in her son's voice as he removed his hands from her breasts, brought her eyes open with a start. Without thinking, she pulled him close, murmuring soothing words to allay his fears and worries, the whole while glaring in the direction of the madman who was playing God with their lives.
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