Connie lounged in her hotel room, staring blankly at Johnny Carson on the TV.Connie lounged in her hotel room, staring blankly at Johnny Carson on the TV. She wore her bathrobe, with nothing underneath it, and her bare feet were propped up on a footstool. This was so weird, being in Mexico and watching Johnny Carson. It was some San Diego channel, she believed. She heard Johnny's voice, saw his picture, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She sipped ice water, trying to calm her nerves. She didn't dare drink anymore alcohol tonight. They'd made it back to the hotel alive, having luckily found a tax; after wandering down only a few dark alleys after they'd fled the sex-show tent. Billy hadn't said a word all the way back. He'd stared out the window, his face permanently flushed. He smelled of sweat, cum, and the Mexican's girl's pussy. Matt had tried to make silly conversation, but Connie had also remained silent, her embarrassment as great as her son's, if not moreso. Matt had wanted to come into Connie's room for a nightcap, or for her to come to his room, but she'd politely declined. Now the three of them were in their own separate rooms, Matt's down the hall, hers and Billy's linked by a common bathroom. Things were turning out quite different from what Connie had expected. She'd come on this trip because she hadn't trusted Matt to come here alone with Billy. Matt was one of her wealthy clients, the owner of some prize animals. She'd been treating his high-priced dogs and horses for years. He lived on a ranch outside town, a bachelor, alone with his animals, which was strange because Matt was such a handsome hunk of a man. Lately, especially since Connie had divorced Sam, Matt had been chumming around a lot with Billy-too much to suit Connie. She had her suspicions, Matt being a bachelor and spending so much time with a boy young enough to be his son. And so when Matt had proposed the trip to Mexico-a flight to Tijuana for the weekend-Connie had insisted she go along. |