Carly, Chapter 10

by Jackie

Heather's unexpected arrival took my breath away.

"How ... how did you know?"

The fabulous redhead smiled and without taking her eyes off the girls said, "I didn't. I was just in the neighborhood and decided to stop by with some news."

She looked more relaxed and happy than I'd seen her in weeks (I'd only known her for seven, the first three were OK, and after that something happened that I couldn't figure out).

"The custody suit's been thrown out."

She'd finally taken her eyes off the teenagers and was looking at me.

"What custody suit?" I asked in genuine confusion.

Heather looked puzzled and then laughed.

"That's right, I never told you. My ex had brought suit to get custody of Caitlin because he said I was an unfit mother. The suit cited reckless endangerment, sexual interference and corrupting the morals of a minor. The basis of his case was the episode in the desert—you know, Oyster Gulch."

Both she and Caitlin had mentioned the place to me but they were brief and vague. I just knew that they'd gotten stranded there on their way to California. I was still in the dark, but if it made her this happy it had to be good.

"That's great!" I responded with as much enthusiasm as my confusion would allow.

Caitie popped her head up over the back of the sofa.

"So I won't have to go back?" she asked optimistically.

Heather made her way around the sitting area furniture, rested her hip on the arm of the couch and hugged her naked daughter.

"That's it honey we're free ... he can't touch us now!"

The little strawberry blonde squealed with delight. Mother and daughter were still hugging when my lover raised her eyes to me and said, "and who do we have here?"

The movement of her head made it clear she was referring to the other naked teenager —the one she had happened in on performing cunnilingus on her daughter. Just for a moment the uniqueness of the situation struck me. How many teenagers wouldn't be mortified to be caught 'in flagrante delicto'? How many mothers wouldn't have a coronary?

"This is a high school friend's daughter," I answered.

I had never given her much detail about how I got interested in photography in general and photographing teenaged girls in particular, so it didn't make much sense to try to explain further.

"She's a cutie," Heather complimented looking Stevie in the eye.

"And she's just amazing at eating pussy," Caitie offered lying back on the couch.

"Oh?" her mother responded with piqued curiosity.

"Ta be good at it ya have to really love it," Stephanie revealed her secret as she continued to clean Caitie's juices from her face.

"So I take it that you really love it," Heather extrapolated to the logical conclusion.

The younger teen nodded emphatically.

"Sometimes I think I'd rather eat then be eaten," she said and then she giggled.

I have developed an ability to recognize lust and arousal on people's faces with a high level of accuracy and I could certainly see the affect the dialogue was having on Caitlin's mom.

"Would ya like me ta do you?"

I still had the camera in my hand so I started to watch the scene unfold through the lens. The expression on the older woman's face changed. The lust and arousal were still there but now there was something else—it looked a bit like fear.

"I've never done it with a ... with a ... uh, girl before."

She wasn't speaking of the female gender (obviously), and apparently her own daughter didn't count. My lover was kneeling beside the couch looking very nervous. Caitlin sat up and said,

"Come on mom, ya gotta try it, she's ... she's... unbelievable."

Heather didn't move or speak.

"My mom's got the most amazing tits!" the strawberry haired nymph said to her playmate. "Show her, Mom; show her how beautiful your boobies are."

My lover was a statue.

"Uh ... uh, I don't know ... I shouldn't," she whispered.

It frankly came as a surprise to me where the redhead drew the line. Her daughter had already started to pull at the cotton top her mother was wearing. As the bottom rose to reveal the lower half of the reinforced satin and lace of her bra I started shooting. I could almost see the war raging inside Heather's head.

With the top bunched under her armpits a critical moment was reached. Her daughter, kneeling on the sofa, continued to tug upward but she was going to need some cooperation to accomplish her task. Her pretty beige bra was fully exposed but Caitlin had reached a stalemate. The pause didn't last very long. I saw Heather close her eyes —as if not seeing absolved her somehow— then she raised her arms and allowed her top to be pulled up over her head by her daughter.

"See what I mean?" Caitie said as she ran her hands over the beige breast support.

"Oooo ... let me!" Stevie pleaded and closed in on the semi exposed redhead.

Her hands were even smaller than Caitie's, so the effect was to make my lover's bust look even bigger —as if any amplification was necessary. I continued to shoot, and I'm sure that Heather's nipples were poking rigidly against their satin prison, but the younger girl's hands blocked the view.

Caitlin was not idle. She slipped around behind her mom and released the many hooks that secured the three inch wide back strap. It was as if all the air had been let out of her when her daughter pushed the satin shoulder straps down her arms. The redhead seemed to sag as Stevie took hold of the bra and completed the removal.

The scene was getting pretty hot now, and my pussy purred its approval. Caitlin was behind kissing her mother's neck and stroking her upper arms, while Stevie resumed her tittie play without the obstruction of the lingerie. Caitie parked her naked butt on the backrest of the couch and pulled back on the older woman's shoulders until the couch seat buckled her knees. The topless redhead dropped onto the sofa with a squeal of surprise—or maybe the squeal was caused by the younger girl's mouth which was still latched onto her right nipple.

After the bouncy landing, Stevie knelt in front of my lover and pushed the short denim skirt up until the crotch of the seated woman's panties came into view. The thirteen-year-old's hands slipped under the skirt over the redhead's hips, obviously searching for the waistband of her yellow panties.

"Oh God ... oh no!" Heather groaned as the teenager tugged at her underwear.

She'd opened her eyes and was looking down at Stephanie's cute little face between her knees. Caitie had her mouth very close to her mom's ear. Her hands had descended to cup the orbs that had provided her sustenance for the first several months of her life. While she was tweaking the protruding red nourishment dispensers I surmised that she was whispering encouraging words to her reluctant mother.

"Ohhh ... oh shit," the besieged redhead wailed but I thought I detected some measure of cooperation through the lens as Stevie continued her panty tugging.

The yellow bikinis sort of snapped out from under her butt. One second they were around her hips and the next the kneeling girl was working them over her knees and down her calves. I moved from the profile view to a position that had me shooting directly over Stevie's shoulder. The youngster brought the underpants to her face briefly before discarding them and sliding her hands up the older woman's white silky thighs.

I had the whole tableau in the view finder, and my focus had been on the obscured mature vulva which was pressing against the seat of the couch. I could barely see the beginnings of her crease below the red landing strip. Without altering the frame I diverted my attention up to what Caitie was doing. It hadn't changed much. She appeared to be kissing or sucking her mom's ear and caressing those magnificent hooters. Heather's head was tilted back and she'd closed her eyes again. The sounds she was making were more like whimpers than anything else.

Meanwhile Stephanie had her forearms hooked around the whimpering woman's thighs. Although there was no visual evidence, I was sure she was trying to pull the seated woman's hips forward to the edge of the sofa seat. I couldn't hear, but by the movement of her lips I knew that Caitie was whispering to her mom again.

The denim skirt was bunched all the way up by the time her butt arrived at the precipice of the couch seat. When the kneeling teenager lifted the sculpted thighs onto her shoulders the redhead's legs parted without any apparent resistance. Stevie and I did a thorough visual inspection of the wide open gash that was now presenting. My mouth was watering and my kitty was twitching wildly. Holding the camera steady was becoming an act of professional will.

The scent of female arousal was so thick in the studio that you could almost see it. Inhaling the intoxicating fragrance was making my head spin—further complicating my job. I noticed that at the same moment Stephanie engaged the mature vulva with her mouth and tongue and that Caitie became much more aggressive in her tittie play. She was squeezing the fleshy melons hard and then pulling the nipples out until the whole surface of my lover's boob deflected.

The insanely rapid movement of the kneeling blonde's head reminded me of the night before in the Holiday Inn suite. I could almost feel her amazing technique as I watched her between the redhead's legs. Heather was grunting very rhythmically and her face was contorted to that agonized expression that signified unbearable pleasure. Each of her grunts sent a jolt through my womanhood and my vision was getting so blurry that I was no longer sure I had the scene properly framed. It wasn't the first time, but the climax I felt building in my pelvis without benefit of physical stimulation was still rare.

Heather screeched and I felt myself gushing. Later I would discover that some of the shots were of the area around the desk, with no people in them at all. I was no longer capable of standing—much less taking pictures—I found myself sitting on the floor, the camera discarded, clutching my spasmodic mons under the burgundy dress.

When my vision cleared the scene hadn't changed that much. Stevie was still kneeling between Heather's legs and Caitie was still perched up at her mother's shoulders on the back of the couch. The youngest member of the Mitchell clan was cleaning up like a good girl should. Heather looked completely out of it head back and still moaning —albeit very softly, it was the only sound in the studio.

I returned my attention to my mentor's granddaughter. Stevie's head was resting on the moaning redhead's thigh; her hand was active between her legs. That's when it occurred to me that she'd been left out. I figured her statement sometimes I think I'd rather eat than be eaten... had its limitations —and right about now it had reached its limit. Looking up at Caitlin, who had been looking down at Stephanie, some telepathic communication made the strawberry blonde turn her eyes toward me. I nodded my head in Stevie's direction and, either we were both having the same thought, or she correctly decrypted my nod.

Caitie's athletic descent from the backrest of the couch reminded me of a cat stalking its prey. She slithered around her mother and down to where her latest playmate was evidently going to be content tending to her own needs —how sad in the circumstance. Caitlin took a position behind the younger girl, reached under her arms, and began caressing the pubescent mounds. Stevie looked over her shoulder to see who was playing with her titties. The kiss was awkward at first; mostly tongues swirling around each other in mid air. In a slinky, almost snake like move, the older girl slipped around until their faces could meld properly.

My pussy had stopped throbbing and settled into its pleasant photo shoot hum. I got up and went into the little washroom to clean the pussy juice off my hands. It wasn't easy to hold the camera properly with slippery hands and cleaning the camera afterward was a bitch—trust me, I know. By the time I returned to the scene, Stephanie was fully supine on the floor with Caitie on all fours over her sucking her face.

I picked up the EOS and framed my subject. Even before I'd had a chance to review the shot, my shutter finger started firing. The first thing that caught my attention was the way the strawberry blonde's boobs looked it this position—pendulous and long. The second thing was the background. The teenagers were doing their thing between Heather's still widely spaced feet. The top of my frame included my redheaded lover's vulva in full bloom like a star on top of a Christmas tree. I backed out a bit more so I could get the whole of Caitie's mother's remarkable body in the frame.

The girl on her hands and knees began to kiss and lick her way down the prone teenager's body, pausing to pay tribute to the oversized pink mushroom caps atop her sweater puppies. A lingering tongue probing of the younger girl's navel further delayed her arrival at her ultimate target. Stevie's hips were twitching and she had her fingers entwined in strawberry locks hovering over her girlhood.

Caitlin glanced at me with those hypnotizing green eyes before making her first bottom to top swipe of Stephanie's vulva. The thirteen year olds hips rose off the floor trying to maintain contact with the probing tongue. The prone girl's groans almost drown out Caitie saying, "Oh my God ... she's so sweet!"

I knew exactly what she meant and I suddenly had way too much saliva.

My lover's daughter returned to the candy-like nectar trickling from the bright pink delicate folds. Stephanie's reaction was reminiscent of a ballet move. She managed to pivot around her own girlhood without disturbing the tonguing it was receiving from above. The amazingly smooth one hundred and eighty degree rotation brought her head directly between Caitie's legs. The top girl's coochie was still a thighs length away while she was on all fours. Wrapping her arms around the pubescent hips of her partner, Stevie, was able to pull the treasure—with Caitlin's active assistance—down in range of her searching tongue. Locked in the sixty-nine embrace both girls' squeals of delight sounded watery and muffled.

Heather was also enjoying the scene—one hand in her crotch the other squeezing her stiff nipple. The best position to shoot the whole of the activity put the entry door to the studio in my peripheral vision. I was aware of Clare entering immediately. My mentor and love was smiling contentedly as she closed the door behind her. When she realized what was going on her smile broadened considerably. She turned and latched the door 'Ya see what experience can do for ya' I thought. 'When am I ever gonna learn ta do that?' The floral printed matte jersey dress she wore looked just as fresh as it had at breakfast this morning. The empire waist made it similar to the burgundy frock I was wearing but the bust of her mainly blue and white dress was form fitting, unlike my blousy top. She walked over and stood behind me. It was like having your teacher looking over your shoulder while you worked.

"I thought I'd had a pretty good day, but I'd trade all the progress I made to have been here for this," she whispered in my ear.

The pace of the girl's squeals and moans indicated that their mutual pussy tonguing was reaching its conclusion. The redhead wasn't working at her masturbation; it was more like idle unconscious self-stimulation watching her daughter and Clare's granddaughter reach simultaneous orgasms. Caitie rolled them onto their side after the climax, then twisted around and resumed the face sucking that had preceded the coochie munching. I could always crop the shot to get what I wanted out of it, so it was only for my own entertainment that I zoomed in on their heads. The way each of their faces was coated in the other's juices made my womanhood hum just a little louder.

I suddenly realized that I had sort of forgotten my manners. When Heather noticed that she had an audience she slipped her scoop necked top over her head and tugged her skirt down as far as she could under the circumstances. She was now legally clothed; although the way her impressive hooters pushed outward on the T shirt material and the way her semi erect nipples made their presence known, it was more erotic than when she'd been topless.

"Heather Logan, this is Clarisse —Clare- Mitchell, an old friend and Stephanie's grandmother," I said using both of my lover's names for the purposes of the introduction.

"Nice to meet you," Clare rejoined almost immediately.

The redhead just nodded. I don't think she was all the way back yet but she was definitely trying because the look on her face spelled embarrassment to me. Clare and Heather made eye contact only very briefly. My mentor's attention was drawn back to the teenagers lying on the floor kissing.

"Is that your daughter?" she asked, making the obvious connection based on the resemblance.

"Yeah ... uh, yes ... yes it is," the woman on the couch confirmed in a shaky and somewhat croaky tone.

"She's beautiful, just like you," my mentor complimented.

There was something surreal about the situation for me. The woman standing at my side, I had loved for nearly as long as I could remember. The one seated on the couch I'd fallen in love with a month ago. Having them —seeing them— together in my studio was something I would never have dreamed. I looked from one to the other and felt it tug at my heart. Something in me felt like it had to make a choice —an impossible decision. The tugging on my heartstrings turned to an ache. My eyes went to the desk where the mortar to shore up my leaky wall was stored.

Clare turned to me smiling quite oblivious to my dilemma.

"I found just the place!" she said enthusiastically.

I know I should have been happy for her but at that moment I felt profoundly sad.

"I hope Amy likes it as much as I do," she continued. She pulled her camera out of the shoulder bag she was carrying and switched it to review. "Take a look," she offered presenting the Nikon to me.

I was overwhelmed by the size and magnificence of the mansion—and that's what it was, nothing less. Scrolling through the shots of the interior only amplified my first impression; 'Can she afford this? I am no real estate expert, but it would be obvious to anyone who paid even the slightest attention that the property would go for well over seven figures.

"Wow that's a huge place for just the three of you," I commented still repeatedly pressing the 'next' button.

"Yeah but property is a great investment," she informed me. "It's a place where money can stay ... uh ... out of sight, so to speak."

She might have winked. I wondered if some of Stephan's ill-gotten-gains had survived him; or was the pornography business Mitchell style just that good? 'None of my business' I concluded.

"Well ya may need GPS tracking to find each other," I joked, and we both laughed.

"Ya never know ... there could be other people living there ... eventually."

The look in her eyes when she said it might have been construed as an invitation.

"We've always made sure we had plenty of room to ... uh, put people up ... when needs be. Remember the place we had when we first met?" 'How could I ever forget?' "Does it have a pool?"

The image of the very first time my lips had ever made contact with a pussy flashed in my mind like a lightning bolt.

"Of course my darling; that's like an essential tool. We even had one in Minnesota even though ya could only use it for about a month out of the year." We were laughing again. "I'm gonna be so glad to be away from ice and snow!" she added.

The warbling sound interrupted our conversation. Clare fished in her bag and produced the chirping 'Blackberry'.

"Hello ... Amy! Where are you?"

The delighted greeting she gave her daughter sent a thrill right through me. She seemed to be looking at the teenagers still cuddling on the floor as she listened.

"That's great honey ... love ya ... see ya soon."

She disconnected and returned the PDA to her bag. Then, turning to me;

"She just got gas in Sacramento. She'll be here in an hour or so." Claire was grinning from ear to ear.

Oddly my first thought was 'Where's here?' "Where's she gonna meet you?"

"At the hotel, Honey, Stevie and I gotta get back."

I wanted to say 'Can I come' but what to do about Heather and Caitlin? She bent down and stroked her granddaughter's hair to get her attention.

"Come on sweetie we gotta be going."

Dutifully the teenager got to her feet and began collecting her clothes. I was about to suggest that she freshen up before she dressed when she started toward my little powder room. 'She must have noticed it when she did her unguided tour' I surmised.

"Don't be long honey. You can do a more thorough job when we get back to the hotel," Clare instructed the teenager. "Why don't we have dinner together tonight ... you pick the place," she suggested. "If Heather and ... uh—"

"Caitie," I filled in.

"—want to come along ... the more the merrier."

She was looking at the strawberry haired nymph who, deprived of her playmate, was now sitting naked with her back against the front of the couch hugging her mother's shin. Heather's face was non committal. It would have been an awkward moment if Stevie hadn't bounded out of the washroom with thirteen year old exuberance.

"Is mom here?" she asked latching onto her grandma.

"Almost sweetie." Turning to Heather she said; "it was nice to meet you." Then looking down she said, "and you too Caitie. I hope we'll see you again ... soon."

She gave me a motherly kiss on the cheek.

"I'll call you when Amy gets settled; so figure out where we're gonna go."

With that she headed for the door. Unlocking the handle she said, "Don't forget to lock ... ya never know who might walk in."

Then she and Stephanie were gone.

I sat down beside my lover on the couch recalling her important news and upbeat mood when she'd arrived.

"I hope all of that didn't steal your thunder ... or make you uncomfortable," I apologized, stroking her hair and giving her a quick peck on the lips.

"No ... no" she said pensively, "but I don't think Caitie and I should go tonight." She looked down at her daughter. "We wouldn't want to intrude on your reunion."

I could have said 'you wouldn't be intruding' but it would have been a lie. The way my emotions had gotten away from me with just Clare and Heather at the same time—how much more intense would it be with Amy there too? Amy, the one who'd originally stolen my heart twenty-five years ago; the woman who was so close to my age and with whom I still had so much in common. 'Could I deal with the upheaval?' I thought not.

"You may be right," I supported her decision; hoping it wouldn't seem like I was choosing the Mitchells over her. "I haven't seen Amy in a very long time. You'd probably be bored to death with all the catching up we have to do."

She kissed me tenderly and my aching heart melted.

"OK kiddo ... let's get going. We got a celebration of our own to plan."

Her challenge to Caitie made my overworked heart crack. 'I should be there with them!' I rushed into the washroom as Caitlin was getting dressed. The lump in my throat forecast my imminent breakdown. I stifled the sobs as best I could, but it was really hard. Wiping my tear streaked face with the warm wash cloth the mirror told me that my little crying jag wouldn't be a secret anyway.

When I came out they were ready to go—standing at the door actually. We kissed again, my lover and I, her expression was concerned but evidently understanding.

She gripped my upper arm firmly and said, "Don't worry."

She and Caitie left—I was alone.

I filled the coffee cup halfway from the bottle in the bottom drawer. I knocked it back in two swallows. 'Captain Jack 'll get ya by tonight ... and take ya to your special island' I threw myself on the couch and bawled for a long time.

---

Back at home, by the time I'd showered and put on fresh make-up, the only evidence of my upset was an excusable redness in my eyes. I was sitting in just my red oriental print dressing gown with a half gone glass of sour mash when the phone rang; my heart leapt at the sound of her voice. The central repository of my emotions had undergone more stress in one day than it had dealt with in the whole rest of my life combined.

"Amy!" I cried and the lump was back in my throat.

"Hi Sugar ... gee it's good to hear your voice. I can't wait 'til I can hug you."

I was determined not to start sobbing again. I threw back the balance of my drink as a counter measure.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

Swallowing hard I replied, "I made a reservation at Eccolo, it's just over on Fourth. They've got great homemade pastas ... do ya still like pasta?"

"Mmmm ... love it!" Her response sounded so sexy. "Could we meet ... uh, at the hotel? The restaurant is only about a mile ... we could walk over."

I didn't want another public scene like the one with Clarisse.

"Sure honey, you've been here before."

Then she giggled.

"Plus you've lived around here your whole life. I'd be surprised if there was anything you couldn't find."

It was certainly true but it highlighted the gypsy existence that had been my old friend's life.

"Can I come over now ... right away?"

I asked trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. (It wasn't yet six.)

"I made the reservation for eight 'cause I didn't know how long you'd need."

If there had been a pause —any sign, however slight, of hesitation I think I would have died —fortunately there wasn't.

"The sooner the better 'Munchkin'!" I hadn't heard that pet name in so long!

"See ya," I said, and hung up before my throat could close over again.

---

I turned my Escalade off in the Holiday Inn parking lot and took a deep breath. There was a huge sense of déjà vu. I couldn't remember anything about the short drive over here for the second time in less than a week. I knew the way to their suite but my vision wasn't clear and my legs felt wobbly. 'Come on Captain Jack help me out here' I said under my breath. 'Two-ten' there it was. I stood in front of the door for several seconds before I knocked. The door opened and I didn't even get a chance to see her —to really look at her. She folded me into her arms and kissed me deeply. I was amazed how that mouth —that tongue— felt so familiar even after all this time. I hadn't had a chance to prepare so I had to break the kiss in order to breathe. Her arms around me and mine around her, nose to nose, we looked into each other's welling eyes and with better preparation resumed the kiss.

"I guess you two still like each other," Clare commented from the center of the room.

"Come inside ... come inside ... this is crazy," Amy said pulling me through the door. 'Well you started it' I thought and was immediately amused by the childish phrase; but I felt like a kid again. Suddenly, in the seconds between knocking on that door and standing, now facing my old classmate, all the years of longing and searching and wondering and hoping washed away. I held her at arms length and was in awe of her genes. Like her mother she'd barely aged. Obviously she couldn't pass for the sixteen year old she'd been when last I saw her but to say the years had been kind would have been an understatement. She didn't look a day over thirty. In fact I think it was only that she did look very tired that was causing her to appear even that old. The fact was of course that she'd cleared the big four-oh a birthday and a half ago.

I don't know how long we stood there—holding each other by the shoulders smiling with tears running down our faces. There were no words spoken, and none were needed. The depth of our mutual love flowed back and forth between our eyes like electric arcs.

I also don't know how long it might have gone on if Clare hadn't held out the sweating little rocks glass and said, "Jack-on-the-rocks as I recall"

I accepted the whiskey even though I was reluctant to disengage from Amy. My classmate, owner of the first pussy I'd ever kissed, picked up whatever it was that she'd been drinking from the table and raised her glass.

"Here's to the good old days!" she toasted.

The three of us clinked glasses.

The next hour or so was a blur. We talked, we laughed, we cried and in seemingly no time we were reacquainted. At a quarter to eight I mentioned the reservation.

"If we're gonna walk it'll take ten minutes or so," I suggested.

"Ya know I'm really not that hungry ... are you?" Amy asked.

"Actually no I'm not," I replied and we both looked at Clare.

"There's stuff in the fridge and we could always call room service later," she said supporting our decision. "As long as that's not a problem with the restaurant."

"I'm sure it's not, but I'll call them," I said and picked up the phone.

The maître d' sounded almost relieved by the cancellation. I hung up and listened to the Mitchells discussing the property Clare had gone to see earlier in the day.

"It looks perfect. How much did you say they want?" Amy asked, sipping her fruity looking drink.

"They're asking one point eight ... but the agent's pretty sure we can get it for one-five. The sellers are ... uh, motivated ... that was her word," Clare said the last part with a chuckle and followed it with a gulp of her vodka.

I glanced at Amy's face when her mother said the price—not even the slightest reaction.

"Under ideal conditions I bet you could get two for it," the financial genius of the Mitchell's empire speculated.

My heart was racing and it wasn't even my one point five million dollars they were talking about. In fact if I scraped everything together, retirement savings and all I doubted that I had that much. 'Of course ya don't have to have it all in cash ... dummy' I scolded myself.

"Let's go see it tomorrow if you can arrange it," Amy continued. "We can get an offer in by Friday if all goes well."

"That's my girl," my mentor said kissing her daughter on the forehead. "No fuckin' around ... get busy and git 'er done."

We all laughed at her poor impression of Larry the Cable Guy. "Why don't you come along too Carly?"

The invitation left me speechless. I guess my surprise showed pretty clearly on my face. I was sitting near the arm of the couch, next to the end table with the phone. Amy was beside me. Clare rose from the facing chair and sat on the armrest above me.

"I know it's kind of early honey, but given our history and uh, shall I say similar business interests ... Amy and I were thinking that maybe we should ... you know ... join forces."

I swallowed the rest of the Jack just out of reflex. My head was spinning and it was only in part due to the alcohol. 'Did she just invite me to move in with them?' She started stroking my hair. Looking down from above me as she was, made me feel small—child-like. When she leaned down and sucked my lips into her mouth—for an instant, for just a second—we were back in that shower twenty-five years ago.

Clarisse Mitchell was an accomplished kisser—expert you might say. Everything she knew she had passed on to her daughter. When the older woman broke the kiss Amy gripped my chin and turned my head toward her. Some part of my mind was trying to compare the two, but the rush of pleasure that seemed to start with my lips and tongue, shot down to my pussy and then rebound back into my mouth via my boobs, obliterated all rational thought.

Hands were on my tits. Someone was pulling my dress down. It was around my waist and I was glad I'd once again left the bra in the drawer. The mouth on my boobies had to be Clare's because Amy's was still latched onto my lips. The hand that was snaking up under my skirt was another matter; it could have been either one of them. Fingers, very talented fingers, were stroking the crotch of my thong. I automatically opened my legs further to clear the way.

Amy's mouth slid off mine and started sucking on my earlobe.

"Oooo Munchkin you're just as juicy as ever," she whispered as her fingers slipped inside.

My hips responded on their own by moving forward to the very edge of the seat. Clarisse abandoned the tongue bath she'd been giving my boobs and momentarily disappeared. My old classmate seemed to consider that an opportunity. With her free hand she lifted my pear shaped breast to her mouth and flicked her tongue over the nipple her mother had raised.

Amy's mother made her whereabouts known by applying her tongue to my vulva—very low almost on my perineum. She was on the move, downward. When I felt her scribe a circle around my puckered rosebud I yelped. Her tongue was poking at the sensitive crinkled flesh when the enormous surge occurred. With three erogenous zones simultaneously and expertly manipulated I didn't even get any warning so I could try to control it. I wanted to savor the unbelievable sensations my childhood mentors were providing but heedless of my wishes the orgasm ripped through me like a tornado. One second there was just thunder and lightning and the next second I was in Oz. From somewhere in orbit I heard, "See I told you she still comes like gangbusters." It was Clare's voice.

I was more lying than sitting on the couch. I opened my eyes and Amy smiled down at me.

"That was just in case ya needed an incentive ta join us," she said.

Even though I felt like a rag doll I managed to get myself righted on the couch.

"So will ya come with us tomorrow?"

I nodded because speaking was out of the question.

There were no more sexual hijinks for the rest of the evening. We talked about all kinds of things including our respective business plans. Not surprisingly, they were way ahead of me but the potential for a symbiotic relationship was obvious. I switched from Jack to water but still opted to take a cab home. Sometime during the evening Stephanie came out and said good-night (She'd been doing battle with the forces of evil on her X-box in the bedroom.) I could have stayed —they wanted me to— but that would have meant sharing a bed. Frankly I was sexually spent, but also not sure if I could resist under those circumstances.

I collapsed into my own bed around two. The events of the evening and the possible future with the Mitchells were swimming in my head. Just before my exhausted brain called it a night I felt a hand grip my arm I only saw the sparkling green eyes and heard the words 'don't worry' before the lights went totally out.