("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2009. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Angela's Diary - 5 by Gregg X (senorsmut@gmail.com) *** The tawdry recollections of a suburban housewife led into a life of sin and debauchery by her wicked son and her own unquenchable lust. (F/M-teen, inc, exh, beast) *** Chapter Seven May 24 I woke up with a smile on my face that would have made the Cheshire Cat look dour. I felt amazing – and I do mean amazing. I was still buzzing over my date with David; it had been the single best evening of my whole life and my body was still tingling. I laid alone in bed for a while (Tim was long gone to the club and his regular Saturday working lunch) and replayed the whole night in my mind, grinning and feeling wonderful, appreciated and loved. My son had swept me off my feet the night before and he hadn't set me back down yet. In those soft, secret moments by myself, I found myself hoping, just a little, that he never would. But nature called, as nature always does, and I had to take another longer, better shower than the one I'd allowed myself the night before. I took a luxurious shower and washed my hair, shaved what needed shaving, and when I got out I slipped into a comfortable old denim skirt and baggy, faded tee that knew me like an old friend. I smiled at my reflection in the mirror; this was the best I'd felt in a long time. And I had David to thank. Charlie had heard me bumping around in the bedroom and he was there to greet me when I opened the door, his tail whapping hard against the wall and his head seeking my hands for a good petting. I informed him with great seriousness that he was "a good boy oh yes you is aren't you yes you is such a good boy oh yes oh yes oh yes!" and he seemed to agree with the assessment, prancing and hopping around with delight at my baby talk and then racing to the head of the stairs, only pausing to look over his shoulder to make sure I was following him. I was, but along the way I decided I'd poke my head in David's room and see if he was awake. If he was, he deserved a real, grateful thank you for what he had done to me. I knocked softly and, when I got no answer, I eased the door open a crack and peeked inside. His bed was empty (and unmade, but don't get me started). Downstairs I found Laurel in the living room playing Xbox. "Hey mom," she called out without looking up when she heard me on the stairs. "Have fun last night?" "Mmm-hmmm, had a great time," I chirped. "How about you?" "Oh yeah, daddy and I watched a movie and ate popcorn." "What did you watch?" "Pirates of the Caribbean 2." I grinned. "I guess you picked the movie, huh?" "Yeah, it was my turn. It was great." "Cool. Where's your brother?" "Dunno, his car isn't here. I don't think he came home last night." I frowned. He had told me he would be home an hour after me. Yes, occasionally he stayed out all night (against the rules, of course, but he never cared much about rules), but I didn't expect it last night. I felt a nibble of mother-worry (what if he'd gotten in an accident, for God sake?) but I tried to calm myself as I walked into the kitchen. I picked up the phone and listened to make sure Laurel was still playing, then dialed David's cell number. He picked it up on the second ring. "Where are you?" I asked, my voice sounding surprisingly peevish. "You didn't come home last night." "No, something came up," he said. I heard a radio playing and the sound of traffic going by, and I realized he was in his car. "I'll be home in a few hours, don't worry about me, all right?" My frown deepened, and I realized with a pang that I was jealous. I didn't know that he was with another girl and I damned sure wasn't going to ask, but my mind went right there, much to my shock. I had never liked the idea of David slumming around with trashy girls, but now there was something more to it, something more personal, and I didn't know how to handle it. After a moment I said, "All right, David. I'll see you then." "Take care mom. Love you." That put a smile on my face in spite of myself. "Love you too, David." I took Charlie outside for a few minutes, ate some lunch and cleaned the kitchen. By then Laurel had gone off with a gaggle of her friends to the mall, so I slipped out of my thong (I never wore my respectable panties anymore) and let Charlie lick me to an orgasm. He was wonderful, as always, and he never seemed to mind giving me a lick and getting nothing back...but it was starting to strike me that it was pretty unfair. He got nothing out of it, after all. I would have loved to fuck his brains out, of course, but I had learned that to do that you needed to set aside at least an hour and a half to get dressed, get him stimulated, have sex, and then clean up afterward. I just didn't have the time... And then it occurred to me that, if he used his mouth on me, then I might be able to return the favor. There were pictures and movies on the website that David had signed me up for of women eagerly fellating dogs that had made my mouth water, but I'd never done it for my beloved Charlie. In fact I'd forgotten about it in the excitement of everything that had gone on. But it was possible...and it was appealing to me as I thought about it. I considered dropping to my knees and giving him a sloppy-wet blowjob right then and there, but I thought better of it. After all I didn't know if Tim might come back early, and I also suspected that, like with most things involving dogs and sex, it wasn't going to be as easy as it looked at first. There would probably be some trick to it; however, I figured that there would be plenty of advice on the internet on how to do it right. One thing David had taught me is that pretty much everything was on the internet. So it was with a smile of anticipation that I leaned forward, rubbed Charlie's ears vigorously and told him, "Oh mommy's gonna suck your cock isn't she yes she is she's gonna suck your big hard doggie cock so good oh yes she is oh yes!" He didn't understand a word of it, but he was glad to hear it if the way his whole back end wagged is anything to go by. And so it was that a few minutes later I found myself on the laptop Googling "oral sex dog." God bless Google. Within a few moments I was reading some excellent advice on the hows, dos and don- nots of giving a dog a blow job. Charlie was at my feet and whining softly because he could smell how turned on the descriptions were making me and he wanted a crack at... well, my crack. I just smiled and petted his head as I read about how delicate a dog's cock is, how under no circumstances should you ever use teeth on it, and how some dogs (even ones who will eagerly screw you silly and lick you for hours) just don't like a mouth on their privates. It was fascinating and extremely erotic, especially since I occasionally took a break to watch a video of a woman actually doing what I was reading about. The idea of swallowing that endless stream of precum and cum almost made me swoon... I just had time to clear the browser history and turn off the computer when I heard Tim come home. Charlie met him at the door and I followed a few moments later. He was in a great mood, bouncy and bubbly, and we had a nice, pleasant conversation in the living room for half an hour before David pulled up in front of the house. "Is he just getting home from last night?" Tim asked with a frown. "I didn't see his car when I left this morning." "Yes, I think he is," I said, trying to sound appropriately casually concerned. "I guess I'd better have a talk with him. As long as he's living here, he'll obey our rules." "Let me. We've been getting along pretty well lately." That was an understatement. "I think I might be able to have a more productive conversation with him than you can. You two usually end up sparring." "That's true enough. OK, he's all yours." David came in looking a little the worse for wear – unshaven and in his school clothes from Friday – but he had a smile on his face when he saw Tim and me sitting. "Hi guys," he said cheerily. "What's up?" "I think we need to have a talk, kiddo," I said seriously... or as seriously as I could. I mean...god, he'd sucked my pussy in public less than 24 hours before so it was kind of a challenge to scold him about breaking curfew. His face got appropriately contrite and he said, "OK, sure mom." Tim got up and excused himself to go to the restroom. I watched him go, and as soon as he was out of earshot I said, "OK, where were you?" He gave me a look I couldn't read, but it wasn't snide or even teasing. If I hadn't known better, I'd have said it was worried. "After I dropped you off last night I got a call from a friend who asked me to come over because his girlfriend was having a bad trip. And no, I didn't sell him the stuff. So I went over there, and by the time everything was under control I was too tired to drive back so I stayed over. We had lunch today and here I am." I cocked an eyebrow. Something in his demeanor told me he was lying, and I congratulated myself on getting good enough at spotting his BS that I didn't buy it. "Is that the truth, David?" He looked at me for a long moment, and this time his expression was definitely worried, or at least concerned. "No," he admitted reluctantly, "but I can't tell you what I was doing. It's legal," he added hastily, "and no, there wasn't another girl involved." "I didn't ask that." "You didn't need to, I heard it in your voice." The little prick was still better at reading me than I was at reading him. "I just...look, something's going on. And it's nothing to worry about, it's just something I can't tell you about quite yet." "And now I am worried. What's going on, David?" He looked in the direction Tim had disappeared and whispered, "Please just trust me on this one, OK? I'll tell you as soon as I can." "David..." "Mom, please. Trust me." I frowned. "What's with all the secrecy?" "I'm telling you what I can right now." "And you're not in any kind of trouble?" He shook his head vigorously. "No, it doesn't even have anything to do with me." "OK, now you're being mysterious for the sake of being mysterious!" He chuckled and kissed my forehead. "Well, maybe. But please trust me. Can you do that?" I thought about the way he had been with me the night before and I nodded. "I can, David." He beamed at me. "Thanks, mom. I had a wonderful time last night." I beamed back. "Me too." Tim came back shortly thereafter and so that was the end of the conversation. The rest of the day was spent bustling around – Tim and I did some more yard work, then when Laurel got home we took her over to visit Tim's parents. His mom is a lovely, cheerful perfectly round woman and his father is one of those older guys who always seems to be smiling (in spite of the fact that he's been on a walker for the past three years since he broke several bones falling down the stairs). We've always gotten along like gangbusters and they've always spoiled Laurel; they used to spoil David too before they realized what he was. We had a great time over there, then dropped off Laurel at as friend's house for the evening and went out to dinner at Dominguez, a place we must have been twenty times. It was a perfectly pleasant dinner. The food was terrific Mexican, as always, and Tim's conversation was easy and pleasant, as always, and we had a very nice time, as always. And I don't think I went two minutes without thinking about David. When Tim was talking about the new tile we'd planned to put down in the kitchen, I was thinking about David singing in my ear as we swayed together to "Stardust"; when he talked about the softball league he was thinking of joining, I could think of nothing but the way my son's cock felt in my mouth when he came; when he talked about fixing the brakes on his car, there wasn't a thing in my mind except the way that David had made me long to let him put his mouth on me and make me come in front of a gaggle of strangers. I knew it was wrong to be thinking those thoughts, and I knew it was wrong to be relishing them so much – especially when I was with my husband. I knew it was wrong, but I didn't care. The memory, like the act, was so wonderful that I had no desire whatsoever to avoid it. I loved Tim dearly but he couldn't, or wouldn't give me what David could – and I had gone without for too long. And so I listened to Tim, and I talked with Tim, and I thought about David, and I went to bed with a smile. May 25 The smile was still on my face when I woke up Sunday. Tim had long ago left for his working lunch, but the surprise I had was that David wasn't in his bedroom – again. I heard music coming from Laurel's room so I knocked and we chitchatted for a bit before I asked, "Did David not come home last night?" "Nope, he was here. He left early." I blinked in surprise. David NEVER got up early. "He did? How early?" "I dunno, not long after daddy I think." "Huh. OK. Did he say where he was going?" "Nope and I didn't ask. Hey, can you take me to the Mall of America today?" I laughed. "You spent all day there yesterday!" "I know, but I saw some super cute things and I was hoping you could maybe buy them for me a little bit?" "A little bit?" "Or a lot. Whichever works for you." "Yeah. And how much does super cute cost these days?" "It's super cheap. And I saw a pair of shoes I KNOW you'd look great in." "Oh damn you kiddo, you know just how to get what you want, don't you?" She grinned innocently, like an angel. "I just thought maybe you'd want a new pair of shoes, that's all." "Fine, we'll wait for your dad to get back and if he doesn't have anything he wants to do, we can go then." I wouldn't mind a new pair of shoes... Most of the morning was spent in delicious sloth. I ate some oatmeal, read the paper while drinking a cup of strong coffee and sitting in the sun, and had Charlie out to romp in the yard. My sloth ended at a little before eleven, when Patty called with news of her date. I took the phone, secluded myself in a chair in the middle of the lawn, and demanded details. Details I got, bubbling forth in an excited, happy torrent. They had shared a wonderful, romantic dinner at Luce (where they had also shared a lubricating bottle of expensive wine). When it was done and dusk was settling they went for a walk along the tree-lined campus of St. Catherine's College, hand in hand. It was almost dark when Maria put Patty's back against a big oak tree and kissed her, and this time Patty didn't stop her when she put her hand up Patty's dress. Patty came "a wow kind of orgasm," as she said, and before she knew it they were in Maria's bed. They stayed there until morning, making love three times. Patty thought she was in love. I thought so too, and I couldn't have been happier for her than I was. If ever there was a woman who deserved to be loved, it was Patty. "When are you going to tell Thomas?" I asked. "I don't care," Patty replied casually, and then laughed. "Can you believe it? I really don't care. This is the first time since before I married that load that I don't care what he thinks." "Well, how fast do you want to go with Maria?" Another laugh. "She told me a joke last night. What does a lesbian bring to a second date? A U-Haul." I laughed too. "Is that how fast you want to go?" "Well I thought we'd give it a couple of months and see how it goes. But Angela... Angela, I can't even tell you how it felt. To be loved. To be cherished. To be treated as someone who was worth being wooed. I can't even tell you." I thought back to my date with David and figured I knew. "Patty, that's fantastic. Congratulations. What did Thomas say when you got home?" "Ha. He's still not awake, the drunk prick." "If things go well... I'd give anything to see the look on his face when you tell him you're leaving him for a woman!" "I should film it. For posterity's sake." We talked for another half an hour, and by the time we were done I was intoxicated with her excitement. Maria had truly swept her off her feet, and Patty was almost dizzy with the possibilities. I did bring up the fact that being in a relationship with a woman would likely be very different from being in one with a man, and she acknowledged it, but I don't think she really understood the point. Still, I didn't belabor it – she was in the first throes of love and I wasn't going to be the one to rain on her parade. She had another date with Maria this coming week and I wished her all the best with it. I made lunch for Laurel and I – soup and a salad – and we ate it together outside. We had just sat down when the penny dropped. "Mom," she said casually, "can I borrow something of yours for the mall today?" "Like what?" "Oh, I dunno, I thought maybe we could look through your stuff and find something cute." "Cute? Or revealing?" She grinned and blushed a little, but only a little. "Well nothing too revealing...for me anyway." My eyebrow arched. "Meaning?" She looked up at me with an impish gleam in her eyes. "Well, you have all that sexy underwear, it's a shame to waste it..." "Who says I'm wasting it?" I replied with an impish gleam of my own. "Oooh, you're wearing it around? Tell me!" "No. Now eat your lunch." "I'll bet people have some wild reactions when you show yourself..." "Some do," I admitted. I wasn't sure how much I liked where the conversation was going. "Well...I was thinking that you should wear some." "Uh huh. I could maybe accidentally on purpose show somebody too much." She hadn't given up her intention to get me to show off with her in the audience, but this was the first time she'd brought it up in a while...and the first time she'd brought it up since my date with David. I know I ought to be ashamed of myself, but the first thing I thought was how thrilled David would be if Laurel and I did this and I told him about it... "Well, yeah," she nodded. "I mean I'd love to see it! I think it's so cool. I'd love to see the expression on people's faces!" I tried to be strong in spite of how appealing this idea was to me at the moment. I'd loved the couple of times I'd shown myself in public before, and when David had gone down on me in front of the crowd of strangers... wow. It would be thrilling to walk into the Mall of America in a skimpy little outfit and tease random passersby with glimpses of my goodies... but Laurel would be there. Yes she wanted to see it but she had no business wanting to see that from me and if I let her then it would be just another thing I shouldn't do with my kids that I did in spite of knowing how damned wrong it was. I'd already crossed enough of those lines with David that I had no realistic hope of ever going back to propriety with him, but Laurel wasn't a lost cause yet. I knew I had to be firm with her, and with myself, but the idea was seductive and exciting, and it wouldn't leave my mind. Still, I shook my head and said, "Nope, we can't do that. Child Protection would haul you off to a foster home if they found out." "Well I won't tell them!" Laurel laughed, leaning over and slugging my shoulder playfully. "Laurel...no. Come on now, eat your salad." My voice wasn't nearly as certain as it needed to be, and I know she noticed. "Well can I at least borrow some of your things?" "Well...OK, fine, but nothing too revealing." "I don't like revealing on me. I just like cute." We were dawdling over the last of our ice tea when Tim came rolling up around one. He was in a great mood, bouncy and cheerful, and he told us to have an awesome time at the mall. And that was how, a few minutes later, I found myself with my daughter in my bedroom, poring over clothes. She found something easily – a flowy blue and green cotton dress I'd bought the summer before, light and airy without showing anything remotely inappropriate for a 15 year old girl, even one as well endowed as my daughter. My own outfit, however, was more of a challenge. The first thing I grabbed was pair of mid-thigh shorts and a conservative yellow top with a slightly scooped neckline and sleeves. Laurel, however, took one look and made a face. "Ugh! You aren't wearing that!" "Why not?" "You'll totally cramp my style!" I laughed. "You aren't old enough to have a style." "Come on, I'm your daughter. I was born with style." "Oh I get it, flattery." "Is it working?" "Yes. How about this?" I held up a rather demure sundress. It was a sleeveless flower print with a high neckline, very light and comfortable. "Mmmm...I dunno, I think you need to wear something...let's see..." She rummaged through my closet and came out with some of the cute things I'd picked up at XXXFantasy – a red and black corset with some lace and a black miniskirt. "How about this?" "Yeah, right," I smirked. "I told you I'm not flashing anybody, so give it up." "Hmmmph, fine, let's see..." She put the corset back and looked for a few moments more then pulled out a sleeveless purple top with dangerous cleavage, a pleat below the bust and a crocheted back. She held it up next to the miniskirt with a hopeful look. "You've got to be kidding me," I told her, crossing my arms. "Keep looking." "Well you have to wear one of these, the top or the skirt." My eyebrow arched. "Oh I do, huh? Says who?" "Me. Giving peeks or not, I still want you to look hot. So which is it?" I couldn't help but grin. My incredibly cute 15 year old daughter thought I was hot – how flattering was that? And the skirt wasn't that bad... "OK, fine, put the top back." Her smile was huge, and she did as she was told. A moment later she had a red sleeveless number with a major V-neck and a clingy, midriff-baring tummy. "Yyyeah," I said, "you're getting colder." "Fussy. How about this?" She produced a very cute blue sleeveless V-neck top with ribbed sides that were really form- fitting and flattering. I paused – it would show cleavage, yes, but not a huge amount. And besides, it would look good. "Ok, fine, that will work," I said. I knew that the clothes my daughter had selected for me were skimpy enough that I'd be showing off whether I wanted to or not, but honestly I didn't mind that much. I was happy, I was carefree, I felt sexy and loved and even a little silly with the hangover of my date with my son. And besides, the idea of people looking at me – at me when I walked beside my gorgeous daughter – was very seductive. So if Laurel wanted to see me dress sexy, to hell with it, I'd let her see me dress sexy. "Let's get changed." We began to undress. Laurel and I have never had a problem undressing around each other, though this would be the first time she saw me after I shaved my kitty. I knew she'd ask about it – as I mentioned, I'd always been loudly against it – but I didn't mind. In fact, it put a little twitter of excitement in my belly to know that my daughter would see what my son had made me do... Laurel pulled off her shirt, revealing a very ordinary and chaste white bra made entirely for support and not for looks. She was about to drop her shorts, but she stopped and looked up. "Mind if I borrow one of your bras? Something cute?" "Hmmm...I think I have something..." I opened my drawer and rummaged around a bit before I found what I was looking for: a lacy white thing with scalloped edges, lots of lift and lots see-through. "Here, try this." She took it with a laugh. "I said cute, not sexy!" I shrugged. "That dress doesn't show anything anyway. You'll be the only one who knows you have it on. It will be your naughty little secret." "You mean our naughty little secret," she replied with a wink, and I laughed and nodded. Then she slipped out of her bra and took my breath away. I have to explain that I've seen Laurel naked a million times, just like she's seen me. Like I said, we've never been shy about changing together, and she's always been very open in asking me questions about her body. It's never been a big deal... but today it was different. Honestly I didn't know why, and I still don't. Maybe it was because this was the first time I'd seen her like this since my encounters with Brandy and Petra – maybe it was because now I looked at women as potential objects of sexual desire. Maybe, but I don't think so; I didn't want to jump my daughter's bones. Maybe it was because I was more aware of my own body and my own needs, sexual and otherwise. Maybe it was because all of her teasing about showing me off had made me aware of the similarities and differences in our bodies. I'm really not sure. But when Laurel slipped out of her bra, I was just entranced by her tits. They were, to sum it up in a word, magnificent. Another word would be perfect. Yes another word, or perhaps two, would be mouth-watering. Enviable. Luscious. Delightful. Succulent. However you describe them, my daughter has a rack that makes wet dreams. Laurel had always had a lot of questions about her boobs. She started developing early – by the time she was eight she was growing a chest – and she just kept developing, slowly but surely. She'd had all the normal questions: "Are mine normal?" "Why are they so big?" "What kinds of bras are best?" "What's the deal with these things anyway?" So I knew her breasts and I knew she was comfortable with them, just like I knew mine and was comfortable with them. But mine had never been like hers. I was a decent size when I was 15, but hers were VERY big, bigger than mine were until I had her. And not only that but they were perfectly firm, the way tits can only be when you're young and gravity hasn't started having its wicked way with you yet. When my tits were that firm, they weren't that big; when my tits were that big, they weren't that firm. Hers were an absolute ideal, the kind of tits that gave men whiplash when they turned their heads to watch her pass by, the kind that made women green with envy. I need to say again that I didn't want to jump Laurel; I wasn't turned on by her. What I was, was awed. My daughter, the little girl I'd given birth to and nursed, played dollies and tea party with, watched as she grew from child to young woman, was gorgeous. She still had a little girl face and the awkwardness of a teenager, but when I looked at her I could really see, for the first time ever, the hot chick she'd be at 19, the confident hottie she'd be at 25, the lovely and confident and poised woman she would be when she was my age. I could see how she would develop and fill out, how she'd lose her leanness and gain curves, how she would become far prettier than I was. I was awestruck. With Tim, I had made her. I had made her. I was so proud I'd have popped like a balloon if she'd have stuck me with a pin. She put on the bra I gave her and looked up to see my opinion, and then she stopped and gave me a strange look. "Um...OK, why are you looking at me like that?" I smiled hugely, I just beamed, and she was smiling back as I took her in my arms and hugged her very tight. "I'm so proud of you, sweetie. I love you so much." "I love you too, mom," she whispered, and when she pulled away she kissed my cheek and smiled. "Thanks for taking me today." "I wouldn't have missed it for the world, kiddo. Not for the world." She paused. "Really? Not for the world? No offense, but if someone offered me the world to skip this shopping trip, I'd totally take the world." "You," I laughed, smacking her on the ass and making her jump and yelp. "Get your dress on." She stripped out of her shorts – she was wearing a cute pair of pale blue boykinis – and then got into the dress; she looked better in it than I ever did. By the time she was done I was rooting through my underwear drawer. I picked out a pair of very sensible underwear –after all, I knew she was planning on trying to show me off – but her hands were on my wrists before I straightened up. "Uh uh," she said with a firm shake of her head. "Try again." I paused for a moment. Surely I should just wear what I wanted to wear, regardless of what my daughter said. I mean... I'm the parent, right? But even as the thought was occurring to me, I was putting the sensible panties down and looking for something else. I wasn't sure why, except that, at the moment, Laurel was being firm and demanding and telling me to do what she wanted, and it felt good and right to do what she said. I know it was odd, but the oddest thing was it didn't seem odd at all at the time. It just felt natural. I found a dark purple thong, and without even realizing it I held them up for my daughter's approval. Well, that's not exactly true, I mean I held them up to look at them myself, but when Laurel shook her head very firmly in the negative, I dropped them without complaint. I was looking for something that didn't show everything I had when Laurel reached in and produced a pair of red and black crotchless panties – and not the kind with a tie-close crotch, I mean the kind with no crotch whatsoever. "Here," she said, holding them out to me. "These are the ones I want you to wear." I raised an eyebrow. "Laurel..." "These are the ones I want you to wear," she repeated firmly, like I was the child and she was the mother. It was a very strange moment – I felt a queer little rush as I accepted her demand and took the panties from her. At the time I just chalked it up to the growing erotic charge of the situation, of me going out with the intention of flashing, but there was more to it than I realized at the time. She had just produced a pair of fuck me pumps when I peeled off my panties and her jaw dropped. "...mom? You...shaved!" "Well at least you noticed!" I laughed. "Your father didn't." "I think it looks great! I love it. A lot of my friends shave." "Yep, so you've said," I replied, pulling up the crotchless panties and knowing exactly what was coming next. "What do you think? I mean, would you complain if I did?" This was a road we'd been down before, and I'd always told her no. No matter what the fashion was, I had been against shaving. But now my mind was changed – David had changed it – and I just shrugged. "If you want. I can give you a few pointers if you're interested. And I am NOT wearing those shoes. I'll be on my feet for hours, so find me some sandal flats." A few moments later we were both dressed, both looked fantastic, and were on our way out the door when David pulled up. I told Laurel to go wait by my car because I wanted to talk to David alone; she looked a little disappointed that she'd miss what she assumed would be an ass-chewing, but she did what she was told. I met David at the front door, and I immediately noticed he had a concerned look on his face. "Don't worry about it," he said when I asked him what was going on. "It's...well, don't worry." "David," I asked, taking him by the shoulders and looking into his eyes, "are you in trouble?" "No," he shook his head emphatically. "This time it's not about me at all." "Then what's going on? I mean this is connected to yesterday when you didn't come home all night, isn't it?" "Yes," he admitted reluctantly. "But...look, please don't ask me any more." "Why not?" He sighed. "Because I can't tell you any more right now. I will when I can but if you make me tell you more right now I'll have to lie to you and I really don't want to lie to you any more. It's not about me and I'm not in any kind of trouble, but it is important and I'll tell you when I can. Can you trust me?" I didn't even hesitate before I nodded. I could trust him. I couldn't before – he'd shown that – but he was changed now. Now I knew he was telling me the truth. He smiled. "Thank you, mom. Now... where are you going all sexy looking?" I grinned naughtily. "To the mall with Laurel. And do you want to know a secret?" "Sure." Wordlessly I lifted my miniskirt and showed him my cooch hanging bare in my crotchless panties. He gaped, then broke into a huge grin. "It's Laurel's fault. She found my sexy clothes and she's been wanting to show me off. She was very insistent." "LAUREL does?" "Yeah," I chuckled as I snugged my skirt back down. "I think she's more like you than either of you realize." He shook his head in amazement. "Maybe so. Laurel...damn, I can't believe it." "Does it bother you that Laurel wants to make me flash all over the Mall of America?" "Bother me? I love it!" I reached down and playfully squeezed his crotch, and when I found his cock hard in his pants I smiled. "Mmmm, I guess you do love it, don't you?" "Damn right," he grinned. "Do you think maybe we can be alone for a little while this evening? I'm hungry for what you've got." I pursed my lips, thinking of his mouth on me, and I was instantly wet. But I wasn't yet crazy enough to throw caution to the wind no matter how horny my wonderful son made me. "Maybe. We have to be careful. We can't let your sister or your father even so much as suspect a thing." He nodded, looking a bit glum. "I know. But if we can...I'd really love it, mom." I nodded, my eyes sparkling, and leaned in to whisper, "If we can be alone, would you like me to suck your cock while you lick my pussy?" "Oh...I think I could be persuaded." He reached a hand up my skirt and gave my bare pussy a little squeeze. "Now don't keep Laurel waiting...and I want to hear all about what you get up to when you get home, OK?" "OK. I love you, David." He locked eyes with me and nodded, a small, perfect smile on his face. "I love you, mom." I tried to keep the dopey, love struck smile off my face when I got to Laurel and the car, but I'm not sure how well I succeeded. She asked me what was up and I said something (I'm not even sure what) and we were on our way. Laurel, of course, started bugging me about getting her license and maybe her own car, and we were still struggling with the problems associated with that particular parental nightmare when we pulled up into our parking space at the mall. Now, for those of you that don't know, the Mall of America is the largest shopping mall in the United States. It has over 500 stores, it's bigger than Rhode Island, it has its own weather pattern and people have gotten lost inside and never been seen again. OK, I made the last three up, but the place is absurdly huge. It has three levels of shopping, an indoor amusement park complete with roller coasters and a water ride, an enormous aquarium, and the best people watching to be found in the whole state. Laurel adores it. We hit Nordstrom first, and both of us could have spent the rest of the day there quite happily had Laurel not had several other stores she wanted to shop at. As it was we picked up a really cute pair of bright blue Sam Edelman flats that Laurel had spotted on sale the day before and that looked great on her. Then we drifted through the Abercrombie & Fitch, crossed the aisle to the Bare Essentials boutique, and then went into Ben Bridge Jewelers. That was where Laurel showed me off for the first time. When we walked in, the first thing we saw was a gorgeous young sales guy talking to a rich-looking older woman. Laurel caught my eye and grinned, then leaned in and whispered, "You should give him something to look at." I giggled. "You're so bad. I shouldn't listen to you, you're a bad influence." She leaned in and gave me a gentle shove with her shoulder. "Go on, I dare you." "Oh you dare me, huh? What makes you think I'll fall for that?" "Mom," she said, her voice low and urgent, "I want you to." My stomach did something weird, like I was at the top of a roller coaster and just plunging over the drop, and I nodded wordlessly. We drifted along one of the display cases near the cutie, and as soon as he was done with the other woman he turned to us and said, "Hello ladies, how are you today?" I gave him by best sexy smile and said, "I'm lusting...after these earrings right here. Can you show them to me?" He locked eyes with me for a moment and then smiled. "Sure, the sapphire hoops, those are beautiful." Laurel stepped back, ostensibly to look at something in another case but really so he could watch the cutie's face when I gave him a little show. He reached into the case for the earrings...just as I leaned over with my elbows on the case, arms pressed just a bit together, giving him just as spectacular a view of my cleavage as I could. His eyes went right there like they were drawn by a magnet, and I shifted to let him look all the way down to my belly button. We made some small talk about the earrings and a few other pieces, but mostly he scoped me out and I gave him the best looks I could. I didn't buy anything, but I did have a very good time. Laurel was leaning on me and fighting to hold back laughter as we walked out. "Oh my God, mom, you should have seen his face. I think he's in love." I grinned. "Well then he has good taste in breasts." "We need to get you out of that bra!" "I wish your father said that once in a while," I mock- grumped, and we both laughed. "But really, you honestly want me to flash the girls?" "Nipples and all," Laurel said, a positively wicked smile on her face. "I want to see some lucky guy's face when he sees the best boobs in the whole Mall of America." "I thought you were keeping your shirt on." "Ha ha, I meant yours." I shook my head. "You know, I have no business doing any of this with you around." She laughed. "Oh you love it and you know it. I saw your face in there. You adore being looked at, don't you?" "Well, fine, I do, but that doesn't mean I need to expose you to it." "Pun intended?" "Not entirely. But I'm serious, this isn't exactly a normal mom-daughter day out." "You're right," she said with a nod as she squeezed my hand and shot me a glowing smile. "It's tons better. Now come on, let's go to the bathroom so you can get out of that bra." I shook my head, but I followed where she was leading. "You know, you owe me for this, kiddo." "I would except you like it as much as I do." I hmmphed, but she had be dead to rights. I was loving this, and the fact that Laurel was the one pushing me to it made it more exciting. I supposed at the time that it was simply that it made it more forbidden and taboo to have her watching, and I do think that's part of it, but not the whole reason. Not by a long shot. I stepped into the stall, and a minute later I was stepping back out braless, my girls resting comfortably in my revealing top...and my nipples obviously hard. I stashed the bra in Laurel's shopping bag and followed her out. We shopped for a while longer. I bought a cute pair of jeans and a vase, while Laurel picked up a cheap but cute watch, some leggings, and three tee shirts that were on sale. I know she was waiting for me to flash my boobs, but she didn't say anything about it. I think she figured I would do it if I just had time to work up to it – and she figured right. After all, letting someone look down my cleavage with my daughter by my side was one thing, but setting the girls free with her there was quite another. I knew she wanted me to do it, and honestly I found the idea very enticing, especially if it could be arranged so at to happen right in front of some cute boy half my age who would appreciate the view. But still, it was a very brazen thing to do, the kind of thing that might reasonably be said to be stupid. Was I going to be stupid? Well, I thought I might. It happened when we stopped at a little cart selling cheap silver jewelry, and I didn't even intend it to happen then and there. The person at the cart was a girl who looked to be about 19, and she was wearing a cross on a necklace and had one of those irritating chastity rings on her finger (I'm a firm believer that waiting for your wedding night to have sex is idiotic – sex isn't something you just know how to do, and if you want to be good for the person you love then you need to have some experience... at least that's my opinion) so she was a good Christian girl. I strongly doubt she was bi or that she wanted to see my chichis. But she held up a silver necklace that I asked about, and when I went to take it, it slipped off my fingers and fell to the floor. I bent over to pick it up without thinking – And out popped my boobs. They spilled over the edge of the top as I bent, the right one a little more than the left, but both nipples were out. A million thoughts ran through my head in the half second it took me to reach the necklace, thoughts about how I ought to cover myself, tuck myself in, how I ought to be modest and sensible and not show anyone any more than I already had... and those thoughts passed right by without stopping. I was in a naughty, risquι mood, a mood very much to flaunt what I had – and for Laurel to see it and know it was her doing – and so when my fingers found the necklace, I simply straightened up like I didn't know anything was amiss. The girl's jaw dropped and she turned a shade of red I normally associate with candied apples. A gaggle of teenage boys were passing by and in an instant I was the center of their attention, their appreciative expressions, and their whistles. A pair of tween girls stared with open mouths and laughed, and I knew they would be telling the story the next day at school. I loved it. I can't even tell you the pure sexual thrill I got from standing there with my breasts exposed, pretending I didn't have any idea why I was suddenly the center of everyone's attentions. I simply stood there with an innocent smile on my face, holding the necklace out to the cart salesgirl and secretly reveling in the sudden freedom I felt. That was it, really – freedom. I know it sounds silly but I really did feel free at that moment, free to embrace my sexuality, free to accept what I was becoming, even free to embrace my son's love and the fact that I was in a deeply sexual kind of love with my own dog. Free, too, to be told to do just exactly this and to obey. At that moment, with an innocent grin on my face and my chest on display for all to see, I felt like I really had the strength to own all the changes that were going on and to make them my own. I felt like I really was in control of the lightning I was riding. Within a few days, events would prove me wrong, but for a brief moment I felt like a queen. And it was a brief moment. For all the reaction I'd earned, I think I stood there that way for less than two seconds. A woman about my age, pushing a baby carriage, boggled at me for a moment and then dashed to my defense, putting herself in front of me and held up a shopping bag to block the view. I managed to look confused, and then when I looked down and pretended to notice, I also managed to look embarrassed. I quickly tucked myself in and then Laurel had me by the arm and was dragging me away before the teenage boys could come over and talk to me. "Oh my God, mom, oh my God!" Her voice was delighted and I saw a flush on her cheeks as she steered me across the crowded walkway and got us lost in the crowd. "Oh my God! That was so hot!" I was simply laughing, a free and confident laugh like I was on top of the world. "I didn't even mean to do it! They just...popped on out!" "Oh my God," she repeated, "it was perfect. You should have seen everyone's reactions! It was just...oh my God! I thought that girl was gonna have a stroke!" "Yeah, she did look a little overwhelmed, the poor thing." "And those boys! I bet they go home and jerk off thinking about you!" "Language!" "Well I bet they do! I mean...mom, you don't even realize how completely hot you are. I think you gave them a thrill they'll be talking about for months!" "Oh come on Laurel, I'm not that attractive!" I protested, though I was glowing with pride that she thought so. "I'm just an old lady!" "Mom, if I look half as good at your age, I'll be happy." "Really?" "Really. I love that my mom is a babe!" She squeezed my arm. "And I love that people love to look at you. It really makes me proud of you. And it makes me glad I'm making you do this." "Well...it was pretty fun," I admitted. "Maybe I'll even mention it to your father, just to see if he actually reacts." "Ooh, I dare you!" Laurel laughed. "Stop daring me!" I said, and we laughed together. Half an hour later we wound up in Macy's...and Laurel saw the shoe department. Casually she asked, "Don't you need some shoes?" "I always need shoes," I agreed. "Do you think you need some help trying them on?" she asked, still casually. "Well I guess I...oh, I get it." "Mmmm-hmmm," she said, steering me into the ladies shoes department. I could feel her excitement as she guided me toward the nearest shoe salesman and gave me a shove... He was a youngster. If he was older than 17 I'll eat the shoes he sold me. He was a normal-looking kid, a couple of acne spots and the thin build of a boy who's gotten his height but not filled out yet. He was average, the sort of kid you'd see by the dozen in any high school in the country. And I was going to give him a treat. I was going to give my daughter a treat too, the one she demanded. Laurel peeled away to take up a good watching position as I approached him. He smiled at me as I told him I was looking for a couple of different styles of pumps and wanted his assistant; I pretended not to notice when his eyes kept flicking down at my boobs. It was cute... and he was going to be seeing a lot more than that pretty soon. I took my place on one of the fitting chairs as he went off to gather half a dozen pairs of shoes; Laurel hovered nearby, acting like she was looking at shoes but grinning like the cat that ate the canary. Me, I was just sitting with my legs crossed, acting very nonchalant. The young fellow returned – his nametag said Zach – and set the boxes down in front of me. He was on his knees, in perfect position, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Laurel staring at him, waiting for his reaction. He took off one of my shoes and I uncrossed my legs for him to get the other. I had my ass right on the edge of the chair and my miniskirt hitched up just enough that there was no way I couldn't shoot little Zach a beaver – His eyes drifted between my legs and got huge. I fact, his whole face sort of went slack, his eyes got buggy, he turned beet red, and he immediately looked down at the black peep-toe pumps he was fitting on me. Laurel looked like she was ready to burst with glee...and, I couldn't help but notice, her nipples were as hard as diamonds and just about poking clean though the sundress. There was no mistaking the look on her face for anything but arousal. She was off to the side so she saw nothing but my legs and Zach's reaction, so I know that she wasn't getting hot by looking at my pussy. She was getting hot because I was showing it... and because she was the one who had told me to show it. Maybe she had more in common with David than I'd realized. It's a mark of how turned on I was that I didn't stop the show right there, but the fact was that I liked showing myself – I was starting to think I liked it a lot – and it was easier for me to actually do it when I had someone pushing me. So, if Laurel wanted to flaunt me, she could for now. And yes, I know precisely how messed up that is. Zach fumbled the other shoe on and I stood up, regarding myself in the mirror... and incidentally placing my ass in his face, so that all he had to do was look up and he'd see under my skirt. I watched his eyes in the mirror – he looked up. I grinned. "Mmmm, they're cute, but let's see some others," I said. The next pair was a pointed-toe black pump from Nine West, and I don't usually care for pointed toe shoes... but this wasn't about the shoes, was it? I sat back where good old Zach could look straight up my skirt and fixed him with an innocent look as I held out my foot for him. In fact I held it up nice and high so my skirt slid back a little more. Zach tried to be a good boy, really he did, but the temptation was simply too much and he looked square at it for two seconds, then hurriedly looked away and finished fitting the shoes. He did manage to resist temptation for a couple of pairs, although I'm not sure how. He was red in the face, hard in the pants and even sweating a little. It was so cute. Laurel, on the other hand, looked almost lost in an erotic fog. I knew the look on her face, the expression, because it was so similar to mine. I knew how she was feeling, the pressing throb of arousal between her legs, and it made me quiver a bit to know that she was getting such a thrill out of exhibiting me this way. If my pussy hadn't already been soaked, I'm sure the sight of it would have made me at least a little wet. It was on the fifth pair – a very cute Anne Klein two-tone black and silver 3 1/2" heel pump that I absolutely had to have – that Zach finally simply broke down and took a good long look at what I was showing him. He stared straight up my skirt for almost ten seconds, entranced, and then suddenly he jerked his eyes up to my face to see if I was angry. I was not; in fact, to judge by my expression, there was nothing remotely unusual going on. Innocently, I asked, "What do you think, Zach?" "Um...it's...beautiful," he gulped. I smiled. "Thank you, but I meant the shoes." "Oh! I...oh..." I shifted my legs farther apart; it was the most I could do to tell him to look without telling him to look, and he looked. He licked his lips and said, very softly, "The shoes are beautiful." "Thank you, Zach," I told him. "I like them too. I'll take them. Now let's look for something red." Zach nodded and stood, taking away all the rejected pairs and going to look for red pumps in my size. He wasn't gone five seconds before Laurel was at my side. I didn't have to look to see if she was turned on – I could smell it, and the smell was thrilling. "Mom...oh my God..." "You keep saying that," was my amused reply. "Do you think he likes the show?" "I think he does!" I looked up and met her eyes. She was looking a little stunned, like a fawn in the headlights...or like a girl who has told her mother to act like a slut and, against all odds, seen her mother do exactly as she was told. "And you?" "God mom...it's so hot. Keep doing it." Her voice was barely audible, but it was as intense as I had ever heard her sound. Somehow I thought that this wouldn't be the last time we did this. As awful as it sounds, that was perfectly fine by me. I was having a great time. Laurel was back in her place when Zach returned; I couldn't help but notice he was carrying the stack of boxes low to cover his erection, the sweetie. My legs were nice and open when he settled in front of me again, and this time he made no pretense of looking anywhere other than at my bare pussy. And that was nice... but I wanted to up the ante a little. We were secluded enough that nobody except Laurel was going to see what I was about to do, so as he settled the crimson open-toed BCBGirls pump on my left foot, I let my right hand fall into my lap. As he put on the right shoe, I was sliding my hand up underneath my skirt. He froze, my foot in his hand and my leg in the air, as I traced my fingertip along my hairless slit, teasing my lips with my nail and gathering my moisture. He couldn't have been more solidly frozen if I'd have doused him with liquid nitrogen. I withdrew my hand, watched him stare slack-jawed for a moment, and then said, "Zach? You can put my foot down now." "Huh? Oh!" He did and shook his head like he was trying to clear cobwebs. I stood and checked how the shoes felt on my feet – I liked them. "I'll take these too. Let's find one more pair, something a little offbeat. How about something in a bright pattern?" "Yeah... sure, OK," he nodded, and I didn't even detect a trace of resentment that I'd made him bring ten boxes of red shoes out and then decided to buy the first pair I tried. He scampered away, and I could only giggle. I hadn't felt this sexually powerful since... well, ever. But the weird part was that I knew I wouldn't be doing this, at least not nearly so boldly, if Laurel wasn't making me. I felt sexually powerful, but only because I was doing what she told me to do. The implications of that were slow to dawn on me. He came back with another stack of boxes, and I sounded very normal when I said, "I hope I'm not being a bother, trying on all these pairs and making you run to the storeroom all the time." "No!" he replied eagerly, settling down in front of me again. "No...it's...um, really it's no problem at all." "Well you're very good at your job," I told him, watching his face as he looked straight at my kitty. "Your hands are very gentle." He blushed so hard and so red that I thought he might pass out, and he squeaked, "Thanks..." At this point, I would have bet just about anything that my little Zach was a virgin, and that this was the closest he had ever come to a naked pussy. That made me love it all the more. I'd be in his erotic dreams for years to come, and the things he would do to me in his imagination... well, I found I very much liked thinking about that. He put another half a dozen pairs on me and I don't think his eyes strayed from between my legs the whole time. I ended up with a very nice pair of open-toed 4" Nine Wests that were cream-colored with multicolored swatches on them. Zach ended up with pants full of cum. I'm not sure when it happened because he didn't give any sort of sign, but he had the most adorable wet spot at his crotch when he stood up. What a little sweetie. Laurel joined me at the counter as I paid for my shoes. I was acting like there was nothing even remotely amiss, but Laurel was flustered to the point of speechlessness. I wondered, as they rang up my card, whether my daughter had gotten her own orgasm from this. I didn't think she had – I didn't see her touching herself – but she was so befuddled that she certainly seemed afterglowy. Well, I wouldn't ask her. I just smiled naughtily, slung the bags over my arm, and led her out. It was a little of an odd drive home. We talked more or less normally, and neither of us brought up what I'd done at the Mall. It was like we had silently agreed to keep the thing quiet, a secret between us, at least for the moment. But of course, I didn't feel like it was behind me, because I was still so horny that I was squirming in my seat. I dearly hoped David and I could find some time to be alone, because I kept imagining his mouth on my cunt and his cock in my mouth and it was driving me nuts. Unfortunately, it pretty quickly became clear that it was not to be, not that night anyway. Tim had decided to try to make dinner and it... hadn't turned out well. Honestly, I'm not even sure what it was supposed to be. At least he was laughing about it. So Laurel and I combined to whip up some fish, a salad and asparagus – but Tim had made enough of a mess that cleanup took forever. Then Laurel was up and down the stairs all evening, meaning that there was no way David and I could have taken 25 minutes to pleasure each other in his bedroom. Dammit. I was outside with Charlie, sitting on a chair on the patio, when David found me. "I was looking forward to taking you up on your offer," he said ruefully as he settled into the next chair over. "I was thinking about it all day long." I smiled. "Me too, kiddo. When I got back from the Mall, I was so horny...and you wouldn't believe what happened there." "You mean what Laurel made you do..." "Well...she really didn't have to twist my arm all that much..." I told him about showing my cleavage, about Laurel making me take off my bra, about my tits popping free by accident. To say that he was amazed would be to understate things considerably. He kept shaking his head over the fact that Laurel, who seemed so innocent and straight-laced, got off so much on watching me show myself. He was even more amazed that she had more or less ordered me to do it, and I'd done what I was told. When I told him about what I did to Zach and the way Laurel looked afterward, he was completely astounded. "Do you think she came from watching you?" I shrugged and laughed. "She might have. She acted like it." "Well," he mused, "my little sister is just full of surprises, isn't she?" May 26 Charlie thought he was going to mate with me again when I got down my dog fucking clothes. And I admit, I was very tempted – having Charlie inside me was bliss, the closest to Heaven I expect to come in this life (or after it, truth be told). It would have been so easy to get down on all fours and let Charlie mount me – he had the method down now – and just be tied to him for 20 minutes while he pumped me full of his cum. He'd have loved that, and I'd have loved that... But I had something else in mind. I wanted to suck my dog's cock. He followed be down the stairs, eager and prancing, the tip of his cock already visible. He's so adorable when he gets excited – it's like he's a puppy again, completely focused and centered in the moment to the exclusion of everything else. He thought he was going to fuck my brains out, and so for him my pussy was the only thing in the world worth considering at that instant. Dogs are so pure, so sweet, and so guileless that I can't help but love them...and when they happen to be male, I can't help but let them love me. I barely got into the living room, to our customary spot, when he thrust his snout between my legs right onto my exposed pussy and began to lick. I was wet and eager, and so I simply smiled and let him have his way. His tongue slithered and moved, a serpent, rough and soft and strong, and he pushed it into me in the way he knew I loved the best. He began caressing nerves and membranes and I was weak in the knees, and the fact that finally – finally – I would return his oral attentions made it all the sweeter. I let him lick for a few moments, making me gasp and tremble, but the position was awkward and so I backed up slowly, with him following along and keeping his tongue inside me like the wonderful lover he is, until the backs of my knees met the edge of the sofa. Gently I lowered myself to it, spreading my legs and keeping my pussy right on the edge so he could get at it easily. His tongue filled me up, so pliable and yet so powerful, so soft but yet so rough. I just threw my head back and moaned, unashamed and uninhibited, and let him lick me where and how he wanted to. And at first he licked everywhere, from ass to clit, from the place where my thighs met my pelvis to so deep inside me I could barely believe his tongue wasn't a cock. I don't like to preach, but there is something I believe very strongly and I want to say it flat out: every single girl who reads this owes it to herself to let a dog lick her. I mean that. Even if you don't want to suck a dog's cock or let a dog fuck you, I promise you that you will never, ever experience anything in your life like a dog's tongue on your cunt and ass. You'll have an orgasm like you've never had – not just from the physical sensation of it but from the fact that the one giving you that sensation isn't another person, male or female, and isn't even a plastic toy; it's another living, breathing creature, one who thinks and feels and loves and wants to please you, wants to give you an orgasm because it will make you happy. Try it just once and you'll never regret it, I promise you. OK, enough of my soapbox preaching. Charlie was hitting my spots one after another, and he knew what I liked because he was getting used to this by now, getting used to licking me and making me quiver and moan and come. Dogs are incredibly sensitive creatures, and even if they aren't terribly bright (and they're not) they have excellent instincts. When they do something that feels good to you, they can sense it and they do it again. And that's how come Charlie knew to avoid my clit and to lick lower, seeking my openings, pushing his tongue into my body. Now, I've never really been an anal girl, but I knew from the first time his tongue hit me today that it was going to be his licking my ass that made me cum. His tongue inside me, pushing open my lips, stretching my pussy, even flicking at my clit if he didn't hit it too directly, felt fantastic – but somehow, for some reason, it was the way he licked my ass that was sending shivers up my spine...and making those shivers get hot, and concentrate in the very depths of my pussy where my orgasms started. It wasn't that his tongue on, and in, my pussy didn't feel fantastic, because it did; it's just that today my ass was the thing that needed attention. At first I shifted down and rolled my hips to bring my ass up, and that succeeded in focusing a little more of his attention there. His tongue, big and flat as it is, has the miraculous ability to fit into remarkably small spaces, and so it wasn't long before he pressed against my asshole – and I mean really pressed, so I could feel his teeth on that exquisitely sensitive ring of flesh – and pushed the tip of it inside me. I screamed. I screamed like a banshee, I howled like a woman possessed, and my hips lurched up off the couch and pushed my ass into Charlie's snout in an effort to get his tongue deeper. That, of course, was a mistake – dog's are sensitive, yes, but they don't always know the difference between a "HARDER!" thrust of the hips and a "KNOCK IT OFF" thrust of the hips (and to be fair, plenty of people don't always know the difference either – sex is an inexact science) and so he backed off three steps and looked at me quizzically. I couldn't help but laugh at the funny tilt of his head and the questioning in his huge brown eyes. "Good boy," I said encouragingly, "come on, come lick mommy..." And as I said it, I patted my pussy and he came right back, tail wagging, for more...but I had the very clever idea to leave my hand right there over my pussy and clit. He licked at it a bit when he came back, but then his tongue dropped down to just where I wanted it to be: my ass. Oh my Lord. If there's anything more sensuous than getting your pussy licked by a dog, it's getting your ass reamed by one. He pushed his tongue right against my little pucker and began to lick, hard and fast, harder and faster, and as he did my hips slowly rose to meet him and my legs came back and further back until my knees were against my chest and I was offering him my ass like it was the greatest treat in the whole world. I was moaning, writhing, screaming, gasping, crying, going out of my mind with the pleasure he was giving me. And each movement of his tongue seemed to open my ass more, each application of pressure made it yield to pressure more easily, each thrust made my ass want his tongue inside it with greater passion. I can't say for sure how deep his tongue got into my ass – not as deep as a cock would, of course, or even fingers, and not nearly as deep as it got when he licked my pussy. But it opened me in a way I was most emphatically not accustomed to being opened and it stimulated nerves that had never been stimulated, and it felt like his tongue was pushing my wide all the way up to my liver. I was open for my lover, giving myself to him, and he was taking me, devouring me, making me his like no one ever had before – I was coming before I knew it. I was lifting myself to him, curled up so that only my shoulders were on the sofa and my toes were behind my head pressing against the wall. It wasn't the sort of shattering orgasm that he gave me with his cock, but it was lovely and deep and rolled in waves, carrying me with it like a toy bobbing on the ocean until, finally, I uncoiled and let my body take a more normal position, slumped on the sofa with a big, satisfied smile on my face. Charlie wagged his tail at me, proud he had made me come. He was so adorable I could just have hugged him forever. Could have, that is, if I hadn't had my heart set on giving him as good as he was giving me. It was a moment before I had gathered myself enough to slide off the sofa like a wet lasagna noodle, and by that time Charlie had curled up at my feet. He looked up expectantly when I got down on his level and leaped to his feet, sure we were either going to play or fuck and willing to accept either one. He crowded into me, his big, strong, furry body shouldering me in his exuberant manner. I had my arms around him and my face buried in his neck, laughing with sheer pleasure at his pure, simple, innocent joy. But as I hugged him, my hand slipped beneath his body and found his sheath. It was warm and soft and furry, but as I squeezed it gently I felt, inside, the hardness of his penis bone (yes, dogs have them). His tip wasn't out anymore and he was still frisky, but as I began to stroke it slowly he quieted down as though I had ordered him to stillness, his tongue hanging out just a bit and his eyes just a little out of focus, as though he was looking at something far, far away. I smiled, knowing that I was giving him pleasure. He was my lover, and it made me feel good to make him feel good. I would make him feel wonderful. I licked my lips, feeling a little knot of anxiety in my stomach. Would he like it? Some dogs didn't, I had read. Would I be any good at it? I wanted to be for him what he was for me, a lover who was present always, who would always be faithful, who would love with unquestioned passion – and who could make him feel wonderful with every part of my body. I didn't know the answers, but I needed to find out, for both our sakes. Within a few strokes I could feel him hardening in his sheath, thickening, growing – and the red tip appeared. Since we began this I had seen it plenty, of course, but this was the closest I had ever really been to it and it mesmerized me. How different it was from a man's cock! It was barely thicker than a Bic pen and it was a pallid red, almost more a dark pink than actual red. It was pointed and slick-looking like it was wet. I licked my lips again and leaned in, extending my tongue... It tasted like dog. I don't mean that in a bad way – quite the opposite, in fact – but there's no other word for it, really. It tasted like Charlie. Now, I can see people saying "It tastes like dog cock" as a way of saying they didn't like something, but those people don't have dogs as lovers. Charlie IS my lover, and I love him incredibly, and for something to taste like him – like him and nothing else in the world – was the greatest gift I could imagine being given at that moment. I touched my tongue to the very tip and felt it hard and stiff, and then I traced the inch and a half of pale red until my tongue hit the fur of his sheath, and then back. Charlie liked it. My heart caught in my chest when I realized that. I had been worried that he wouldn't like having his penis touched in this way – the internet said lots of dogs don't and if you can't trust the internet what can you trust? – But he was holding himself as still as a statue while I licked him. He liked it. He liked it and that meant I had another way I could give him pleasure, another way I could make my lover feel good and loved and special. I was so happy I could have cried. But I didn't – instead I concentrated on giving my dog the best blowjob any dog ever got, and while I didn't even come close to that, it was definitely the best I could do at the time and that was what mattered. I stroked his sheath, feeling him getting hard inside it, pushing it back so more of his cock extended from it. It was getting redder and thicker and longer – And something came out. It was a colorless spray of liquid barely thicker than water, and it sprayed across my cheek and onto the old bed sheet. Precum, I realized immediately, it's his precum. It's what he shoots inside of me that feels so wonderful and makes me so wet and hot and fills me so completely. I was struck by a pang that I had missed the squirt, but less than a second later there was another...I missed that too. But when the third one came an instant later I had his cock in my mouth, careful to keep my teeth well away from his sensitive flesh, and I felt his hot precum splash across my tongue for the very first time. I won't say it tasted good. In fact, it barely tasted anything at all. There was a bit of a copper taste like licking a penny, but honestly it was almost flavorless. But that didn't matter to me, not one bit. It was his, Charlie's, my lover's juice, and he was giving it to me, and I adored it like the finest champagne. And there was a lot of it – a hell of a lot. Each little squirt didn't amount to much but when they come three every two seconds...well, it wasn't long before it was running down my chin and making a mess of the fugly dog-fucking shirt I was wearing. Within a couple of minutes I had no choice but to I stop worrying about it and just let it go where it would. I was still stroking him through his sheath, and he was definitely getting big. He wasn't as big as he was going to get, of course, but he was getting bigger very quickly and I knew it wouldn't be long before he started thrusting – and when that happened, my friendly internet guides on fellating canines had informed me, I needed to be careful if I didn't want him to rip my throat out with his cock (which I didn't). So even though I was pushing my mouth down on him and taking every bit of him I could get past my lips, stroking him and caressing him with my tongue and doing everything I could think of to make him feel good, I was also watching carefully – His first thrust caught me by surprise. It was an abortive thing, just a little hump of his hips and nothing like the fierce hammering he gives me when he screws me silly, but it scared the bejeezus out of me. It was just so sudden! I had visions of gagging as his knot got stuck behind my teeth and I pulled back like lightning. He gave a couple more halfhearted humps and then fell still in my hand...but I was starting to think I'd bitten off more than I could chew...um, metaphorically speaking, of course. I even thought of stopping and fucking him instead...but no, I wanted this to work. I wanted to do this for him, to give Charlie this gift of myself. I would make it work... Then I remembered something, a video I saw where the dog was on his back and the woman was blowing him from above. He couldn't hump if he was lying down, could he? Well, to be honest I had no idea but I didn't think he could, so I patted the floor and said, "Lie down. Come on boy, lie down." He looked at me quizzically – I had never asked him to lie down before when we played like this – but I repeated myself and eventually he complied, though I think he thought I was being silly. I rolled him over onto his back; he immediately tried to climb back to his feet. I think it was some sort of dominance thing, but maybe it was just a dog thing. I mean, dogs can be just as stubborn and headstrong as people. I had a bit of a struggle with him until I managed to put him firmly on his back and take his cock into my mouth again – that settled him down! I worked him again, and this time I felt much more confident and in control. I don't know how he felt about it, but I knew I'd feel a lot more comfortable sucking his cock when he could hump if I had David here by my side to keep him from getting too excited. For now, this would just have to do... I took his cock into my mouth as deep as I could get it while I stroked him through his sheath. He was getting bigger again, and fast – I guess I was doing something right! His precum was flooding my mouth and there was no way I could even start to swallow it all, so it was making a mess of his cock and sheath, my hand and his belly. I swallowed what I could but there was no end to the stuff – God, if a man came as much as a dog... My tongue was dancing on his shaft, flicking up and down as fast as I could make it go. I loved the feel of his cock under my tongue – it was smooth and slick, but there were ripples too, ripples made by the veins that creased the surface. It had gotten darker as I sucked, going from pink to red to almost an angry purple, and I could feel his knot inside the sheath. It was small yet, but it was definitely a bulge in his cock... Suddenly, it seemed to me that if I could get his knot out, then he might start to cum – actually cum, instead of just giving me all the precum I was getting. After all, I reasoned, it was when he got his knot out of his sheath and buried nice and deep inside me that he stopped thrusting and started coming, wasn't it? The knot seemed to be the key to the entire thing. He had way too much cock for me to take all of it into my mouth – and even if I could, I'd have to be Dizzy Gillespie to actually fit the knot past my lips – but maybe that didn't matter. Maybe all I had to do was get my fingers around it, stimulate it, hold it inside something warm, and that instinct that trigged his orgasm would kick in. Maybe I could give him a successful blowjob yet... Charlie was breathing heavy, his ribs rising and falling rapidly as he panted, his breath coming in something like a whine. I knew what it was, of course – it was his sound of pleasure, his sound of joy, the sound he made when I made him feel good like only a lover could. He was hot, hot in my mouth, hot in my hand, hot beneath my body as I touched him – that's one of the many wonderful things about dogs, they're a few degrees warmer than people, so they feel wonderful to touch. When Charlie's cock is buried inside me, filling me so tight, it feels so wonderful to have that heat there, and his cum feels sooooo warm...and now, when his precum was flooding my mouth, it felt just as warm and just as good. With every stroke of my hand on his sheath I could feel his knot getting a little more pronounced, and with every stroke I pushed his sheath a bit further back so more of his cock would show. Already it was getting to the point where I wasn't sure how much more I could take in my mouth without gagging, but I wasn't going to stop until my body made me. I wanted to stimulate all of him, every last bit... When his knot came out of his sheath, I smiled around the dog cock filling my mouth. Now, at last, I could make him feel like I wanted him to feel! My fingers went around it, cradling it, stroking it lightly while I pushed my mouth down all the way. My gag reflex kicked in a couple of inches before my lips reached the knot but I kept going. It was hard to keep my teeth off of something so huge, but I somehow managed; and it just kept getting bigger, harder, longer, thicker. His precum was flowing like a river, flowing so fast I thought it might drown me but willing to take the chance to make him feel as special and loved as he made me feel... I felt it and tasted it the instant he began to orgasm. The spray against my tongue the roof of my mouth, those endless little jets that had tasted of almost nothing and felt like warm water, suddenly got thicker. Not a lot thicker, not like a man's cum, but enough that I could immediately tell that my lovely lover was coming. And suddenly there was a taste! I honestly can't say it's a great taste, a dog's semen; it tasted like biting on a tinfoil, or like chewing a nail. It's not like the flavor would ever be a Ben & Jerry's ice cream. But still, it was Charlie, it was HIS taste, it was HIS cum, and I swallowed it as fast as I could, not wanting to miss a drop. I wanted his cum flooding my mouth. I wanted it flowing down my throat. I wanted it in my belly. I wanted it burbling past my lips and flowing down. I wanted its smell, its texture, its taste. I wanted every drop he could give me. I wanted to suck Charlie's big balls dry. I wanted him to love fucking my mouth as much as he loved fucking my cunt. My head was a blur on his cock, sucking, licking, drinking him down. My hand caressed his knot gently, stimulating him, making him cum more and more and more, endlessly. It was then, as I wondered how long it would go on, that I really remembered how much he pumped into my pussy and how long he came. He could stay tied with me for 20 minutes! And while not all of that was taken up by orgasm, a pretty fair portion was. Well. I had a mouthful, didn't I? The thought thrilled me as much as it daunted me. On the one hand my jaw was already getting tired, and he was in my throat so deep I gagged more than once; but on the other hand, how much pleasure was I giving him? How good was I making him feel? I couldn't know the answers, of course, but I sucked like a maniac for as long as I could, and Charlie laid there with his tongue lolling out, his eyes half closed, panting and smiling and looking for all the world like he was as much in love with me as I was with him. I know I'm projecting, of course, but I do know he loves me, and I do know I love him, and I know I adored having that huge red cock between the lips of my mouth just as much as I adore having it between the lips of my cunt. And Charlie? I don't think he was complaining. I was a mess by the time Charlie's cock finally stopped spraying his seed into my throat. My jaw ached from being filled with dog, my body ached from being in a weird position, my stomach ached from swallowing roughly 5,000 gallons of dog spunk, and I smelled like Charlie had just sprayed his jizz all over me...which basically he had. And I felt absolutely, completely fantastic. I got cleaned up, took Charlie out for his run, and got cleaned up again before the kids started coming home. David got back at his normal time, well before Laurel. My smile of greeting quickly turned to motherly concern, however, because his face was pinched and drawn and he looked a little gray. I pressed my hand to his forehead with a frown. He didn't have a fever, but he still looked sick. "What's the matter?" I asked. "Are you all right?" "Yeah, I'm all right, I just have a bitch of a headache," he mumbled. I knew he was sick when he lost his enunciation and started mumbling. "I'm gonna go lie down, OK?" "Do you want anything? Some tea? Or some soup? Aspirin?" He shook his head, but managed a smile as he cradled my cheek lovingly. "No, I'll be OK. I just need some rest. I love you, mom." "Love you, baby." He went on up and I bustled around the house making sure everything was spic and span until Laurel came in. She bounced into the house with her typical smile, kissed me on the cheek and asked how my day was. I thought about the time spent with Charlie and smiled. "I had a wonderful day, kiddo. How was yours?" "OK, I got an A on my history test. Oh, and Rachel Czapiewski wore a lime green pair of painter's pants with, like, a fuchsia short-sleeved jacket over a red, white and blue frilly blouse." I laughed. "So she's lost it?" Laurel shrugged and laughed with me. "I think it's a cry for help." She paused, then added, "You know, even when David isn't doing anything bad, he's still a pain in the neck." I quirked my eyebrow and asked, "What do you mean?" "Well one of his loser friends came up to me today and asked him if I could fix him up with drugs." "What? Why? What happened?" Laurel shook her head. "This total washout called Kevin or Kendall or something, one of the guys David sells to? Well he came up to me today and told me that David said he stopped selling – so this idiot was asking me." I was stopped in my tracks. "He said that? He said David stopped selling?" She shrugged. "Yeah, that's what he said. He said he asked David for some weed and David said he wasn't selling anymore. So he came to me! Like I'd have any!" I talked to Laurel for another twenty minutes, listening to the details of her day, but my mind was whirling. I almost felt giddy with joy. I felt – and this is the crazy thing – I felt like a new bride. Suddenly I was filled with so much hope that I was almost lighter than air, and the future – David's future, of course – was so much brighter than it had been just a few days ago! And so it was that, when Laurel was done explaining her day and had gone up to change, I followed her upstairs and, when she had gone into her room, knocked softly on David's door. "Yeah?" came his voice, sounding a little strained. I opened the door and slipped inside, closing it behind me. He was lying on the bed, still fully clothed, and he lifted his head up to look at me. He looked miserable, the poor dear. I crossed the room, put my hand on his chest and gave him a soft, sweet, gentle kiss on the lips. I held it for a long time, and even if there was nothing overtly sexual about it – no tongue, and I touched him nowhere but his chest – it was still an amazing kiss. I don't even know if he remembers it, to be honest, but I will never forget how profound the feeling was for me. "Thank you," I said when I lifted my lips. "For what?" he asked, puzzled. "For keeping your promise. You stopped selling." He blinked in surprise. "How did you know that?" "I have my sources," I replied with a wink. "Can I get you anything? Tylenol?" "Nah, I'm OK. Feeling a little better." His hand slipped up my inner thigh and squeezed my pussy through my shorts. "Well you sure are feeling something," I said dryly. "Go on and rest. I thought maybe we'd get some Italian takeout tonight from Genelli's." "Oh, cool, I like their stromboli. They have great garlic bread too." I smiled again and kissed him, this time on the forehead, and left the room. That night all four of us sat down for the last normal meal we were to share for some time. May 27 It began as a normal day. It was warm and muggy, with the threat of a storm that never materialized. I did my shopping in the morning and took Charlie out for his run at lunchtime, and I was thinking of going out and doing some gardening when my cell phone rang. The caller ID said it was David's cell. "Mom," he said when I answered, "we need to talk." "Um...OK, about what?" "I can't tell you over the phone, but...well, can you call the school and tell them it's OK for me to leave now?" "Why? You only have a couple of hours left anyway." "I know, but..." "But what?" "This is about that thing I was telling you the other day. I mean, the thing I wasn't telling you. The thing I couldn't tell you." "All...right. Can you give me some hints?" "No, I can't. Not over the phone." "Well what's wrong with telling me over the phone?" "Because I have to prove it to you, and to prove it to you I have to show you, and to show you I have to do it before Laurel and dad get home." "David..." "Mom, please. Listen to me. I'm not just trying to get out of school early. I have something you tell you that's as important as anything I've ever told you. Please." I bit my lip. Something in his voice told me that he was telling the truth. Yes he was a fantastic liar, but I was flattering myself that I knew enough about him now to know when he was pulling one on me. And so I said, "Fine, I'll call the office right now. This better be important, kiddo." "It is." I called the office and fifteen minutes later, David was walking in the door with his book bag over his shoulder and a deeply grim look on his face. "Hi mom," he said with almost exactly the same tone of voice as I would expect if he were attending a funeral. "You're welcome. Now what's all this about?" "I have to show you something," he replied, heading for the stairs. "Meet me in the den, OK?" I frowned, but I went to the den as requested. I wasn't nervous –he'd told me that this big secret, whatever, it was, wasn't that he was in trouble. I assumed one of his friends was in some sort of jam and he needed my advice; what else could it be? So I was in full-on mother mode when I sat down on the old, comfy sofa in the den and waited for my son to come downstairs. I was even rehearsing all the old, hoary good advice I could think of... David came into the room with a DVD in his hand and a very worried look. He put it in the player, then came and sat next to me, remote control in hand. "Um, mom...first I want to say that I'm really sorry about this. I wish to God I didn't have to show you this, but I do." I frowned. This sounded bad, but I still couldn't imagine it was anything really serious, at least not as far as David was concerned. Maybe one of his friends was really in deep trouble? "Well whatever it is, it can't be that bad. Just go ahead and show me." David took a deep breath and pressed the play button. What came on the screen was not what I expected: it was Laurel's room. In the moment of pure surprise that followed I realized that the picture I was seeing was from her trophy shelf above her desk, and pointed at her bed. It took me a moment to grapple with it, but when I finally understood, I was instantly angry. "David! You put a camera in your sister's room?" "I had to, mom." "Oh for God sake! You've been spying on your sister changing her clothes?" "No! It's not like that!" he protested vehemently. "Just watch!" I was about to say something else when, on the TV, Laurel and Tim entered. I knew immediately that this was from several months ago at least, since Laurel was wearing a bulky winter sweater and still had the old haircut that she got changed in March. They came in and sat on the bed, making small talk about dinner and Laurel's homework –nothing that I hadn't seen a hundred times when I passed by Laurel's room after dinner. As I've said, Tim going up to her bedroom to help her with her homework (and incidentally spend a lot of time chitchatting) is a tradition in our house. I watched for a couple of minutes, not even sure what I was supposed to be on the lookout for, and then turned to David. "OK, look, I don't see where this is going." "There," he said, nodding at the television. His arms were crossed on his chest and he had a grim, deeply unhappy look on his face. "Just watch." I turned back to the TV just in time to see Tim looking at Laurel's tits. She was still in her sweater so nothing was revealed, but there was no doubt whatsoever where he was looking. Laurel looked up and saw where he had his eyes...and she smiled. I looked at David, but I didn't say a word. My eyes went back to the screen. There was an edit and suddenly Laurel was near the camera, obviously bending over her desk to find something. And obviously bending over. I looked at Tim's face as he watched his daughter's ass, and I felt my heart lurch in my chest. On my husband's face was an expression I hadn't seen in a long, long time: lust. I remembered when he used to look at me that way, 18 years ago, when we were dating, and I remembered how it used to make me so hot for him. And now he was looking at our little girl's butt the same way... exactly the same way. "I found it, Daddy," she said, standing up and heading back toward him with a piece of paper in her hand. "It says we're supposed to take one of the inventions discussed in chapter 11 and describe how it changed American society." She sat down next to him...right next to him, thigh to thigh, side to side; his arm went around her shoulder to pull her in close, and her arm went around his waist. It was a casual, innocent gesture I'd seen them make since she was a little girl...but somehow it didn't seem casual or innocent anymore. "And what inventions does it list?" Tim asked. The open history book was in his lap. Laurel looked down at the book. "Ummm...the telegraph, the telephone, and the phonograph." "Want to do the telephone?" "Sure." "So, what effects did the invention of the telephone have on American society?" Laurel leaned in a little closer to the book (and his lap) and said, "The telephone enabled ordinary Americans to..." "Hey, no fair reading it!" Tim laughed, pulling the book away. Laurel followed playfully and sprawled across Tim's lap on her belly. She froze for a moment, a look of surprise on her face, and Tim instantly looked embarrassed. My eyes were huge. It didn't take a genius to figure out what she'd felt against her belly... but she didn't move. For a long moment they simply stayed there, Tim looking embarrassed and Laurel looking surprised, and then she slowly climbed off his lap and sat next to him again. There was a moment of awkward silence... and then her arm went around his waist again. A second later, his arm was around her shoulder. She looked down at his lap, at what she'd felt there, then looked up at him... And smiled. "I'm sorry, pumpkin," he muttered. "I didn't mean to..." "Shhhh," she said softly, putting her finger across his lips and looking him square in the eye. "It doesn't matter. You're my Daddy and I love you." They went back to talking about the telephone for a few seconds, but Tim's eyes kept moving back to her chest... My stomach had a sore, sour spot in it. Another edit to a different day, and this time Laurel had on a button-down shirt that I'd bought her for Christmas, though she still had her old haircut. She was sitting cross-legged at the head of the bed, her geometry textbook in front of her, along with a calculator and a pad of paper. Tim was sitting in the middle of the bed, saying, "—but supplementary angles always add up to what?" "Ummmm... 90 degrees. No, 180 degrees. Ninety is complimentary." "Exactly! Good for you!" Tim said, and leaned over to put a kiss on her cheek. She giggled and smiled. "I'm getting it, slowly. I know it's slowly, but I'm working it!" "You're working that shirt, too," Tim said dryly, and Laurel giggled again and chucked her pencil at him. "Hey, I can't help it, you look fantastic!" "Thanks Daddy," she beamed...and then thrust out her chest at him. "But I think it makes my boobs look too big." "No, I think it looks great on you," Tim assured her, staring straight at the chest she was offering. "Really, it's very flattering." "Thank you Daddy," she said, leaning over and putting a kiss of her own on his cheek. "But you're biased. You always think I look great. It's a Daddy thing." "I always think you look great because you do always look great," he insisted, reaching over and running his fingers through her long, light blonde hair. It was a gesture that I couldn't quite see as fatherly. She tilted her head to his hand and closed her eyes. "I like that," she whispered, softly enough that even the good microphone on the spy camera could barely pick it up. "It feels good." Tim smiled and cradled the back of her head in his hand (exactly the way he used to do with me when we were dating) and drew her forward as he leaned in. For a sick, horrifying instant I thought they were going to kiss on the mouth, a passionate lovers' kiss... but he put his lips on her forehead instead and left them there for several seconds. I could see the look of happiness on her face. She looked up at him and smiled, and put a quick peck directly on his lips. They whispered something back and forth that I couldn't hear, and then Tim laughed. "Oh, I wouldn't say that!" "I'm serious," she said, her voice dripping with fake distress. "They're too big. Everyone says they are." They locked eyes for a moment, and then Tim put a finger in the open collar of her shirt and tugged it out a couple of inches, making a great show of peering down her cleavage while she giggled. "Well I can't tell in that shirt," he said, "but they don't look too big to me." "Really?" "Really really. I love your boobs." Another giggle. "Daddy, you're just saying that." He put a playful look on his face and began to unbutton her shirt. I thought I was going to vomit. Laurel didn't pull back; instead she puffed out her chest proudly and let him unbutton the shirt all the way and pull it open to show a lavender bra. The way she was sitting showed her breasts to incredible advantage; Tim drank them in the with wide eyes of a dirty old man, and she watched him with a shy kind of delight on her face. "No, honey, they...they aren't too big. Not at all. They're perfect." "Do you really like them?" she asked, her voice almost that of a little girl...a teasing, wicked little girl. "I love them. In fact, I want you to leave your shirt open like this so I can see them." "Do you like looking at them, Daddy?" "Yes honey, I do. I think they're gorgeous." She smiled at him and left her shirt open as they resumed work on the geometry. I couldn't even look at David. The blood had drained from my face and my fingers felt like they were carved from ice. I felt a churning in my stomach that was trying to become a dozen emotions at once, none of them good, but not quite making it. I don't think I could have moved if I'd have tried. Another edit. Laurel had her new haircut. She was walking casually across the room in her bra and a tight pair of jeans, her tits bouncing with every step while Tim sat on the bed. He was watching her like a hawk, and his erection was so obvious to me that I know Laurel had to have realized it was there. "But then Mr. Bradtree gave Molly detention, which I totally didn't think was fair at all," Laurel said as she stepped up to her closet, her back to her father. "I mean, all she did was tell Eddy where it was, and Eddy did everything else." "Mr. Bradtree is a jerk," he agreed. "It really seems to me like he just likes messing with kids." "He does," Laurel agreed as she reached around behind her and began to unhook her bra. I felt my teeth grind together. She stopped and threw a coy, teasing look over her shoulder. "You aren't supposed to watch me, silly!" "Why not?" Tim asked innocently. "A gorgeous girl is taking off her bra in front of me. I'd be an idiot to look anywhere else." Laurel grinned hugely and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her back was to her father, but I know he saw plenty when she leaned over and grabbed a tee shirt out of a drawer. She pulled it on fairly quickly, but the look on Tim's face said very plainly that he loved what he was seeing. When her tee shirt was in place she turned to face him and held out her arms. "Well, how do I look?" "You look good enough to eat, baby," he replied emphatically. "Turn around and let me see you from behind." She complied willingly, an enormous smile on her face. She hasn't developed a very feminine butt yet, but Tim was practically drooling as he looked at it. I suddenly felt conscious of my own ass, widened from age and giving birth twice and made muscular by all the running I do. I was suddenly certain that Tim hated my ass with a passion...more passion than he had shown toward me in years, in fact. Slowly she turned back around to face him, her eyes locked on his face. Tim was a mask of lust, and Laurel obviously saw it. She looked at him like she wanted to push him right back on that bed and climb on top of him... But she didn't. She sat down next to him, their arms went around each other in the usual way, and they started talking about her spring sports schedule. I felt like I was being punched in the gut repeatedly and brutally. That sour spot was rising up my throat until I felt like I was choking on my own bile. I wanted to run, to get the hell away from there, to be anywhere but in front of the TV seeing what I was seeing – but I couldn't move. I could barely even blink. I had no choice but to watch as I got sicker and sicker, angrier and angrier. Another edit. Laurel in a tanktop – it must have been during the warm snap we had in April – and a pair of shorts, looking cute and fresh as she lay on her bed listening to her iPod and reading a Twilight novel. She looked up at a rap on the door and smiled as her father came in. "Hi Daddy," she said, setting the book aside and taking out her earpiece. "Hi pumpkin," he said, sitting on her bed and resting his hand on her knee. "Your mom's gone shopping with Aunt Sue and David's out with his friends." "Ohhh..." Laurel mused, sitting up and getting close to Tim. "So we're alone, huh?" "Nobody here but us," he said with a grin. She smiled, the kind of smile she gets when she's about to ask for something she knows she shouldn't have. "Well...since we're alone..." "Yes?" "I was wondering if...we could practice kissing some more?" MORE? Practice kissing SOME MORE? I could taste my own stomach. "Mmm, I don't see why not," he replied playfully, and the leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "No! Not like that, silly!" she laughed, putting her arms around his neck. "The way you kissed me in the car the other day." He smiled and brushed her face with his fingertips. "I've been thinking about it a lot since then." "Me too, Daddy." "Are you sorry I did it?" "Uh uh," she shook her head. "If I were I wouldn't want it again. I like kissing you that way. It feels good...and it's good practice." "Well, I do want my little girl to be an expert..." Her replying giggle was cut off by Tim's mouth and they began to kiss. His hand was behind her head and hers around his neck, and they kissed like lovers. It was passionate, heated, the way Tim hadn't kissed me in so long I'd forgotten he could even do it. I could see their tongues moving together, hear their breath whistling on each other's cheeks. I saw Laurel's cheeks hollow as she sucked her father's tongue into her mouth... Everything got blurry, and I realized there were tears in my eyes. I wiped them away angrily – I needed to see this. I needed to know what the little whore under my roof had done with my man. I needed to know what the perverted bastard I married had done with my innocent little girl. I needed to see and I needed to KNOW. "There's... there's like an hour of this," David said, sounding apologetic as he hit the button to skip the video along. "All they do is kiss though, they don't... well, they don't do anything else." I may have nodded. Frankly I was having a hard time feeling anything from my body at the moment. Tim was sitting on Laurel's bed, and Laurel was on his lap, both legs hanging down from Tim's left side. She was wearing a plaid schoolgirl skirt she'd gotten for her birthday and a white blouse. Tim's arm was around her waist, the other hand running up and down her thigh from her knee to just under her skirt; he was wearing a shirt that wasn't two weeks old. This had just happened. She had a book open in her lap and she was reading from it: "Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave Irreverent. Those sweet excesses that I do adore. What surety is there That we will meet again, On other worlds some Future time undated. I defy my body's haste. Without the promise Of one more sweet encounter I will not deign to die" When she was finished, Tim exhaled softly. "That's beautiful, baby. It really is." She smiled as she set the book aside. "I thought of you when we read it today in class." "You did?" "Mmmm-hmmm." They kissed then, another long and deep kiss, and this time it was obvious by the way they held it that they were well used to it now. His hands began to move, one running up under her skirt and the other moving up, up, to squeeze her breast through her shirt. My daughter whimpered softly into her father's mouth and began to grind her flat little girl ass into his crotch. I knew she was grinding on his hard cock, on the hard cock the fucking pervert had denied me for years, and I knew that she was loving it, the little whore. She shifted on him then so she was straddling him, one leg on either side and her back to the camera, but she kept grinding against him, kept rubbing her filthy, horrible cunt all over my husband's crotch. My sick, twisted son of a bitch of a husband was undoing my lovely little girl's blouse. One button, two, three, they came loose, and he pushed the shirt off her so that it fell to the floor. She had on a bra – she had on one of MY BRAS! It was black and frilly and lacy, and Tim wasted no time in undoing it. She helped him slip it off her arms, and I saw his hands play over her bare back. She pressed her breasts into his chest as they kissed; with her back to the camera I couldn't see them kissing but I could hear it, hear the wet smacking sounds of tongue on tongue and lips on lips. Her head tilted back and her hair made a dark blonde waterfall as Tim began to kiss down her body. I could see just a bit of his head as he took our daughter's right nipple into his mouth. "Oohhhhh Dadddddyyyy," Laurel moaned, still dry-humping him. "I love how that feels. You do it so good to me, Daddy. I love it, I really do..." He shifted to her left nipple and I suddenly became aware that I was clenching my fists to tight I was gouging my fingernails into my palms. I didn't even feel the pain. Tim's hands moved down my sweet, innocent little girl's back and moved up under her skirt to clench her bony slut ass, one cheek in each disgusting hand. She had on a pair of white bikini panties and his hands moved underneath them to cup flesh as she drove herself onto his cock, separated only by a few layers of cloth. I don't know how long it went on like that. Tim would suck her breasts for a while and then they would kiss hard and deep and lustfully. She ground herself on him remorselessly and I know she came at least once from the sounds of her moans; I wasn't sure if Tim came, but he probably did, the sick fucker. On and on it went. I stared at it like a zombie, like a dead cadaver propped onto the sofa, feeling horrified and enraged and terrified and disappointed and sick and completely numb and a thousand other emotions, all at the same time. It could have been a few minutes that it continued or it could have been an hour, you couldn't prove anything by me either way. Suddenly, Tim stopped. His hands came out from under her skirt and his head came up from his daughter's tits. "We have to stop, honey," I heard him say. "If we don't..." "No," she whimpered, putting her forehead on his shoulder; I could hear the bitter disappointment in her voice. "Please, can't we just stay here? Can't we keep doing this?" "No, baby," he insisted softly. "If we keep doing this when we'll do more, and we can't do more." "Why not?" she demanded petulantly. "I want to. I want you, Daddy. Please, just stay here and get into bed with me and –" "No, honey, we can't. We really can't." "Why not? You get me so worked up when we do this! It's not fair that you stop!" He sighed. "We just can't." "How come we can do this and not more?" He didn't have an answer for that. He just held her in his arms, and then slowly guided her to her feet. Her face was flushed, her nipples were hard and fiercely erect; his pants were tented and his face looked strained. "I'm going to go and put in the movie," he said, his voice shaky. "Come downstairs in a few minutes, OK?" She nodded sulkily. "I'm not putting my shirt on, Daddy. I like you seeing me like this." He smiled and stroked her face gently. "All right, baby. What movie did you pick?" "Pirates of the Caribbean 2." The blood curdled in my veins. This was last Friday. While I was out with David, Laurel was seducing my husband. While I was out with David, Tim was corrupting my daughter. I felt like I was shrinking into the sofa, like I was losing parts of me, like atoms were flaking off and spinning away, diminishing me... David paused the playback. There was a moment of silence that stretched long, then longer. "Mom..." "Don't. Don't... speak to me, David." My voice sounded strange and pressured in my ears, like I was on the verge of completely losing control of myself. Which was odd, because I felt as numb as a quadriplegic, and which wasn't odd at all because I felt like there was a maelstrom inside me, a tornado of emotions I couldn't even begin to grapple with but that were going to tear me apart with the next heartbeat. Somehow, both opposites were true at once. After another pause, David said, "There's more." "I don't want to see it," I snapped, but of course that wasn't true. Well, it was true – I didn't want to see it, but I needed to see it. I needed to witness it, like I was identifying a body in the morgue. Maybe the body would be my own. After a moment, David pressed play. I saw Laurel follow Tim out of the room...and then there was another cut, this one to something completely different. It was a parking lot, and beyond it a low building. It took me a moment to figure out the place was one of the generic, sleazy motels you see along highways. This wasn't taken from a hidden camera, it was from a camcorder – there was a time and date stamp in the lower corner: this last Saturday morning, 10:12 AM. In another corner there was a glimpse of a car door. I understood: someone, probably David, sitting in his car, watching the motel with a camera. After a few seconds, a very familiar SUV pulled into the parking lot. It was Tim's; I saw him in clear profile as David (or whoever was operating the camera) zoomed in. Tim parked in an open spot next to a slightly battered Toyota compact; even before Tim switched off his engine, the door on the Toyota opened and a girl leaped out – Laurel. It was Laurel. No...no, it couldn't have been. Laurel was still here with me in the house at that time on Saturday! The camera zoomed in closer on the girl as she ran into Tim's arms and he scooped her up with a deep kiss. She was built almost exactly like Laurel, though her legs were a little shorter, her butt was a little bigger and she was a tad thicker through the midsection – same boobs though. Her hair looked exactly like my daughter's, longer than shoulder length, dirty blonde, a little wavy. She was dressed in black lycra running shorts and a tube top with tennis shoes, and the way she threw herself at my husband left no doubt that this was not their first time. Tim kissed her, holding her up off the ground, and then set her down, and when she turned a bit, I saw her face: she wasn't a dead ringer for our daughter, but she was close. She was very, very close. Tim said something and they both laughed; she fondled his crotch right there in public. He turned and trotted off to the office while she stayed outside, leaning against his SUV. The camera stayed on her the whole time, capturing her eager expression and her obvious excitement. How old was she? She was a little older than Laurel, but not much. Under 18 for certain. And the resemblance was striking and sickening. It would take almost no imagination whatsoever for Tim to see Laurel in this girl. A few moments later Tim came trotting back, waving a key; she met him halfway. They were both laughing, hands on each other's asses as they hurried for a motel door. She was pawing him with her grubby little hands as he opened the door, and they pushed each other inside. As he closed the door she was already eagerly sinking to her knees in front of him. There was a cut – the time stamp said 12:36 – and the door opened again. The girl came out looking like she'd just had her brains fucked out; her hair was messed up, her face was flushed, and her tub top wasn't sitting quite right. Tim came out after, smiling, hand on her ass. They shared a throat-deep kiss by her Toyota, then she got in and drove away. He waved and watched her go, then turned to head back to the office. Cut. The timestamp said it was the next day, Sunday, a little after 10. The Toyota was there in the same spot, and Tim drove in just like before. It was the same thing, except this time she was dressed like a masturbation fantasy schoolgirl, with a plaid skirt (like Laurel had worn while grinding on her father's cock on Friday night), a white top tied beneath her breasts, white knee-length stockings and black high- heeled Mary Janes. They kissed in the parking lot. I watched my husband feel up this tramp, this surrogate for our daughter; I watched him squeeze her breasts, squeeze her ass, reach under her skirt right in public and squeeze her pussy. I watched him run to the office and run back, and they went into a room together (a different room, my mind noted for some inexplicable reason). The timestamp said it was about 12:30 when they left the room, shared a kiss and a public fondle, and drove their separate ways. David turned off the DVD player; the TV screen went blue. I felt like a deer that had been hung up by its heels and gutted but was somehow still alive. I was dizzy. I was enraged. I didn't believe a thing I'd seen and I knew it all was true. "That's it," David said. That was it. Yes, that was it. That was it in so many more ways than I could comprehend at that moment. That was it. Tim and Laurel had done what they did. David did what he did. And now I did the only thing I could do. I lost my mind. To be continued? ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 62