"No! Don't go," Margaret called, rather too quickly, "I mean, just give me a moment, and I'll be right down. Melissa, since you didn't have the courtesy to warn me in advance that you were bringing a guest in the house, perhaps you can be courteous enough to see if he'd like anything to drink."
And with that, she whirled and strode down the hall to her room, pausing only long enough to hiss urgently at Keith's door, "Make yourself a bit presentable before you come downstairs; Stephanie's father is here."
Without waiting for an answer she stomped into her bedroom and rummaged through drawers until she found a sleeveless blouse and complementing Capri pants. She flung the extremely short, flimsy robe onto the floor, struggled into bra and panties, tugged on the blouse and pants, and frantically ran a hairbrush through her luxurious, though still damp, red hair. She wrestled with whether or not to take the time to put on makeup, compromising on lipstick and eyebrow pencil so her pale features wouldn't look quite so washed out. With one final glance in her mirror, she hurried downstairs, forcing herself to slow to a more leisurely pace as she reached the bottom of the steps so as not to seem quite so eager.
She found her daughter and John Muller seated in the living room. The man was sipping on a soda, and he rose as she came in. Before she could utter a word, he said earnestly, "I want to apologize again. I know how I'd feel if one of my kids brought a visitor into my home without warning and I'd just stepped out of the bath. And," he gave a significant glance at Melissa, "I've spoken to your daughter about the embarrassment she caused."
The young girl cast down her eyes then raised them to her mother, her face the picture of contrition. John went on, "However, I can assure you that I will make sure in any similar situation in the future, I'll be more careful. I do know better, and this was really my fault, not your daughter's."
Margaret was speechless for a moment and sank uncertainly into an armchair, though she was not altogether certain whether it was because of the man's words or because she couldn't take her eyes off him. He had the most intense eyes and his goatee, shot through with flecks of gray, complemented his lean, rugged face perfectly. His voice was a warm, rich baritone that the woman found inexplicably compelling. But it was when she allowed her eyes to wander over his body that her heart rose in her throat. Even though he was seated, she could see an impossibly large bulge in the man's crotch, a bulge that continued nearly halfway down his thigh. `God in heaven', she thought to herself,' is that thing real?' She felt her knees become suddenly wobbly, and a familiar oozing from her pussy slit began to make itself urgently known.
At last, she recovered enough to say weakly, "Well, thank you for your kindness and for your words to Melissa. I'm really sorry you had to see me like that."
"You looked wonderful then and you look wonderful now," the bearded man said with a bright twinkle in his eye.
"Oh, my!" Margaret said with a delighted though nervous chuckle, "A real gentleman. It's been a very long time since I've encountered one of your species. I thought the 80's had wiped them all out."
"Well, I don't know how much of a gentleman I am," said John, and Margaret thought she caught an almost imperceptible glance in her daughter's direction, "But thank you for that. Actually, though, there was a reason why I invaded your privacy. Melissa tells me that you need to be out of town next week but you don't have anyone to keep an eye on your children. I just wanted you to know that they'd be welcome to stay with us for as long as you need."
The buxom redhead was momentarily speechless once again. "Why, thank you, John. That's a very kind offer. I don't know what to say."
"Say yes, Mom," broke in Melissa eagerly, "That way you can show your boss you can handle the new responsibility. And we'd be fine. You already let me stay over there now."
The girl's mother still looked skeptical. John said gently, "You don't have to answer now, but think about it, all right? They really would be no trouble. We love having Melissa over, and Brad has an extra bed in his room so it wouldn't be too uncomfortable for your son."
"Please, Mom, please," begged the girl, "Say yes. You know you really should go to that conference and Florida would be so cool. When was the last time you had any kind of a vacation?"
"All right, all right, you win," Margaret relented with a laugh. She peered intently at the older man, "If you're really sure it would be no bother."
"No bother at all, Margaret," he reassured her. Now why, she wondered to herself, did her heart leap up just to hear the man call her by name? What in the world was wrong with her?
"I am glad you said yes, though," John went on, "Because I do have an ulterior motive." Margaret looked at him questioningly.
"There's an architectural convention the week after next," he explained, "I'd already decided I wouldn't be able to go because I couldn't take the time away from the kids. But if you'd be willing to take mine in the following week in exchange, that would work out perfectly."
"Well, that's different," Margaret answered with relief. "I'm glad you made that clear. I was really worried that I would be taking advantage of you, but this way I can accept your offer with a clear conscience. Your kids would be welcome to stay here the week after next. Consider it a deal."
"All right!" cheered Melissa, "And thanks Mom. Thank you, too, J-Mr. Muller," she added with only the slightest stumble and recovery. "That will be so cool!"
"You're welcome," the man laughed, rising to his feet. He looked at Margaret. "I won't intrude on you any longer; I've got to get back to the piano teacher's to pick up my brats. Just let me know your travel plans as soon as you've made them, and we'll work out the arrangements."
"Thank you very much, John," Margaret said, getting to her feet as well. "I'm sorry you have to go so soon. Maybe you and your family could come over for dinner sometime so we can get to know each other better." Oh God, she thought, is that too forward? Why did she feel so stupid and awkward around the man? She hadn't felt like that since high school.
"That would be great," he smiled. "I'd be happy to return the invitation as well. I like to cook, so maybe your family could come over for dinner once you get back from Florida."
"That's a deal, too, John," Margaret said warmly.
"Goodbye, Melissa," the man said, turning to the seventh-grade girl. "It was great to have you visit, as always. You are always welcome anytime."
"Bye," she murmured. "Thanks for having me. I had a fantastic time." Margaret wasn't certain, but there was something about the way her daughter said that that made her prick up her ears. What was it about Melissa that was bothering her?
Margaret walked with John to the front door. At that moment, Keith came sauntering down the stairs. He was wearing running shorts, an athletic tank top with oversized arm holes that displayed a good bit of his lean, muscular chest, and flip-flop sandals.
Melissa looked up at him from the living room and felt her heart skip a beat. Why had she never noticed until yesterday how unbelievably gorgeous he was? The image of him lying on his bed, jerking his cock with his finger up his own ass came flooding into her mind unbidden, followed closely by the memory of the pale, thick drop of semen that she had licked off the end of his cock less than twenty-four hours before. She felt dampness start to fill her pubescent cunt again, and she promised herself that she was going to find a way to force him to take her virginity at the first possible opportunity.
Margaret said to John, "Wait a minute. I'd like you to meet my son. Keith, this is John Muller, Stephanie's father. John, this is my son, Keith."
"Hello, Keith," Mr. Muller said warmly, "It's good to meet you at last. I've heard a lot about you."
"Uh, hi," mumbled Keith, who seemed inexplicably confused. "It's nice to meet you, too. What have you heard about me?" he blurted.
"Oh, just talk, people commenting that you were one of the best-looking guys in your school. I can see that it's true," the man said in a voice that sounded oddly strained. He stared with such intensity at the boy that Keith finally looked down, his face flushed.
"He's actually quite shy," commented his mother with an indulgent smile, "Until you get to know him, that is." At that remark, the fourteen-year-old boy looked at his mother with a mysterious smile on his face. Melissa was baffled at what seemed to be all sorts of undercurrents going on of which she was unaware.
Margaret added to her son, "Mr. Muller has offered to let you and Melissa stay with them next week so I can go to Florida on a business trip my boss wants me to do. And the week after that, his kids will stay with us while he's out of town. Won't that be fun?"
Keith looked sharply at his mother, saying with a hint of annoyance, "You didn't say anything before this about going out of town."
"Well, until John offered to let you kids stay with him just now, I didn't think I'd be able to. But I really do need to go, dear. You do understand, don't you, that I need to do well in my new job? It'll be fine, I promise, and I'll be back before you know it and then we'll – we'll all be together again, okay?"
"Whatever you say, Mom," he answered in a tone that sounded aggrieved. What was all that about, Melissa wondered? She would have thought that he would have enjoyed the opportunity for an adventure.
"Well, I'd really better be off," John said firmly, "Goodbye, Keith. Goodbye, Melissa. I'm looking forward to your visit next week very much. And goodbye to you, Margaret," he added with an odd smile. "Thank you for letting Melissa visit. She's a wonderful girl, and you should be very proud. I'm really glad she's friends with my children."
Margaret held the door open for him and stood watching as he got in his car and pulled away, waving one last time as he disappeared down the street. When she turned around, she saw both her children looking at her with droll expressions.
"What?" she demanded, "What's so funny?"
"Nothing, Mom," Melissa said, stifling a grin. "It's just that we've never seen you get all silly over a man before."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," her mother sniffed, but her face colored. "Are you hungry? We got sort of a late start around here this morning, and I was just about to make some breakfast."
"Breakfast sounds great," Melissa admitted, "Stephanie and I sorta', uh, well, we overslept and Mr. Muller made us this big breakfast, but by the time we got downstairs it was time to go. So, yeah, I'd love some breakfast."
"Well come on in the kitchen then," Margaret commanded with a cocked eyebrow, "And you can tell me all about the dance and everything. And you can start by explaining why you come waltzing in this house, with a guest who I had no warning about, wearing no bra under a blouse that you can see your boobs perfectly through." And without waiting for an answer, she marched into the kitchen.
Melissa looked at her brother, who was staring at her in amusement. "You can't see my boobs through this blouse," she insisted.
"Uh, you sure can, Sis," he said with a small chuckle. "Pretty nice, too."
The knowledge that he was looking at her body and appreciating it made her cunt start to ooze again, and she smiled wickedly, "Well, if you like it, I'm glad. Look all you want."
His jaw dropped, to her great satisfaction. If he thought she was going to be ashamed or embarrassed, he had another thing coming. On the other hand, he seemed a lot bolder and surer of himself than he had yesterday as well. She wondered at the change, but added with a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows, "Would you like me to take it off so you can get a better view?"
"Hell, yeah!" he said without a moment's hesitation, "Though maybe right now you'd better not keep Mom waiting."
"Okay," she conceded, and added in a hushed voice, "But later, okay? I haven't forgotten our deal."
"All right!" he grinned and followed her into the kitchen. To Melissa's astonishment, her brother boldly fondled her ass as she stepped through the door in front of him. She stifled a gasp. What in the hell had come over shy and bashful Keith? Had their incestuous incident the day before suddenly turned him into a sex maniac? Things were looking interesting.
When they two young people stepped into the kitchen, their mother commanded, "Keith, please set the table and put out the juice and milk and get out whatever cold cereal you two want. Melissa, would you please make some toast and start the coffee maker for me. I'm just going to fry up this bacon and we can eat."
As her children moved to their tasks, Melissa looked sideways at her mother, who noticed her glance and said, "Well? I'm sure there's a fascinating story about why you're not wearing a bra. Now would be a good time to tell it." Her voice sounded stern, but there was an amused twinkle in her mother's eye, which intrigued Melissa. She carefully weighed how much she wanted to reveal, especially with her brother in the room, before answering.
"It was just a silly dare, Mom," the seventh-grade girl said at last, "Stephanie wanted me to tease Brad."
"Brad? Her brother?" Margaret asked, lifting an eyebrow, "Why would she want you to do that?"
"Well, `cause we kinda' got together at the dance."
"You and Brad?" her mother clarified.
"Yeah, me and Brad," the young girl confirmed.
"And how do you mean `got together'?" Margaret looked at her with interest.
Melissa launched into an abbreviated version of the events of the dance, how no one was dancing with them until Brad asked her to dance, and how she spent the rest of the dance with him, even admitting that they'd gotten in trouble for dancing too close, which drew an amused snort from her brother and a dubious stare from her mother. But by the time Melissa had related how Mr. Muller had let them have another last dance, and how Brad had kissed her goodnight – deleting any mention of the near orgy that included his sister which ensued – her mother was gazing at her with an expression of utter tenderness.
"Oh! My baby had her first dance and her first real kiss, all in one night!" Margaret exclaimed as she put down her spatula and came over to give her daughter a spontaneous hug.
As they embraced, Melissa immediately felt that same jolt of sexual energy as her nipples came in contact with her mother's prominent breasts. Her mother apparently felt something too, for she drew back her head to gaze into her daughter's eyes, and the look that Melissa saw was not at all motherly. It was, she realized, the same kind of look that she and Stephanie had shared earlier that morning. Was she seriously contemplating becoming her mother's lover as well? Why not, she countered with a mental shrug. She felt major twinges of lustful desire every time they touched now, and she couldn't really have objections due to any supposed perversity, either lesbian or incestuous, since she was already involved with both Stephanie and her brother.
Melissa decided to push a little on her mother to see what the reaction would be. She very subtly shifted her stance in her mother's arms so that her cunt was pressed into her mother's voluptuous thigh, and then almost imperceptibly slid her crotch up and down in a slow, pumping motion, doing her best to conceal the action in the general movements of their embrace. The older woman said nothing, but Melissa was virtually certain she could detect a quickening in her mother's breathing.
Nor did her mother release her, but continued to squeeze their soft, ample bodies together, looking at her daughter with smoky eyes as she asked, "So. You decided you wanted to make sure that Brad didn't forget you, hmmmm?"
The woman fingered the material of the young girl's blouse as Melissa shrugged with a casual smile, "Yeah, something like that."
"And was he impressed?" Margaret pressed.
"I'd say so," Melissa said nonchalantly, "He was pretty happy to kiss me again before I left this morning."
"Oh, sweetie!" her mother cooed, "So you've really got a boyfriend!" By now Melissa was sure she could feel her mother starting to undulate her own hips, accentuating the friction of her thigh against her daughter's pussy. If she was looking for confirmation of her mother's desires, it appeared she had it, realized Melissa.
"Looks that way," the seventh grader smiled, somewhat distracted by the lewd interplay between them.
"Mom – the bacon," interrupted Keith, who had been interestedly watching mother and daughter grind against each other with increasing obliviousness, but he was conscious enough to see the skillet starting to smoke.
"Oh, shit!" Margaret swore as she whirled and began frantically flipping the rapidly darkening pieces of bacon before they could scorch completely. Her head was spinning – it had actually seemed like Melissa had been coming on to her just now. Could it really be that easy? She had been trying to figure out a way to subtly and gradually convince her daughter to join her in an incestuous triangle with her son, and here Melissa was practically throwing herself at her. Her pussy was already starting to ooze, and she urgently wished she could excuse herself upstairs for a quick session with some of the toys in her nightstand, if only so she could have a prayer of thinking straight. She knew that she was so aroused already that her judgment was suspect, but the thought of her collection of dildos and vibrators had planted the seed of an idea. She smiled to herself; this could work out very well.
She finished salvaging the bacon and brought it to the table, where Melissa and Keith were already seated and pouring themselves bowls of cereal. She paused by her son and unconsciously placed her hand on his shoulder, even while she addressed her daughter, "Well, I suppose there's no real harm done. It's not like you were parading out on the street looking like that. But," she went on in a more severe tone, "It's one thing to tease a boy your age by dressing naughtily, but you were still dressed like that when you walked in with a grown man."
"Mom, Mr. Muller is cool," protested Melissa. "I like him a whole lot, and I know he wouldn't ever hurt me. And you said yourself that he was a gentleman."
"Well, it's a good thing he is," sniffed Margaret as she reluctantly removed her hand from her son and sat down to eat as well. "You've developed a very sexy body in the last few months, and you need to be a little more aware of the effect you have on other people."
"If you're so worried about that," countered her daughter between mouthfuls, "Why did you pack that skimpy little whatever-it-was for my nightgown? That showed a whole lot more than this."
Her mother colored visibly, "Oh, shit! I forgot about that. Did it cause any problems?" she asked weakly. She had only been thinking about the way her prematurely developed girl would look to her friend Stephanie. It had only now occurred to her that Melissa would have had to wear it outside of her room if she went to the bathroom.
"It made an impression," Melissa said dryly. "Brad seemed to like it a whole lot."
"I'll bet," Margaret winced, "And I'll bet John found it quite entertaining, too. I'm sorry I wasn't thinking better than that."
"If John noticed, he was nice enough not to say anything," Melissa said.
Her mother looked at her daughter sharply, "So he's John now, is he?"
Melissa gave an exasperated sigh, "That's what you just called him. It is his name."
"I guess you can't go around calling him Mr. Muller forever," Margaret relented, though her face still showed lingering suspicion. "I still can't believe you let him in without warning me. I've never been so embarrassed in my life!"
"I know, I know, Mom," her daughter said in a resigned tone, "John already chewed me out. But he did tell you last night we'd be home before noon. It's not like you weren't expecting us."
"I was expecting you, not him!" blurted the older woman. "Thank God I put on something before coming downstairs."
"Why?" Melissa asked, her curiosity piqued, "Do you usually walk around nude in the middle of the day? It's not like Keith wasn't home, either. And that robe didn't conceal anything."
To her astonishment, her mother began to blush furiously, and made several odd noises in her throat before stammering, "Wh-what do you mean? What did he see?"
The young girl gave her mother a level look. "Mom," she said gently, "From the bottom of the stairs, we could pretty much see all the way to China."
Keith snorted and guffawed loudly. Margaret covered her face in her hands. "Oh shit!" she moaned, "How am I supposed to ever look him in the eye again?"
"Mom! What's the big deal?" Melissa demanded. "You didn't have any problem looking him in the eye before you knew, and he sure didn't seem to have any problem with you. And why should you be embarrassed anyway? You were in your own home, not parading out on the street, right?"
"And I did hear him say you looked great both before and after you put on some clothes," she added an attempt to be reassuring. "He sure as heck wasn't offended." She took her mother's hand, "I think he felt guilty for embarrassing you. It was just an accident, Mom. It'll be funny later, really it will."
A faint smile crossed Margaret's face. "I hope you're right." She shook her head and muttered sardonically, "It's always great to make that all-important first impression."
"Well, he won't forget you easily," offered Keith from the breakfast table.
His mother giggled weakly, "That's certainly true. Though I'm sure it's nothing he hasn't seen before."
"Don't be too sure," Melissa said. "I get the impression that he hasn't been making the social scene since his wife died four years ago. Besides," she lowered her voice to a whisper that she hoped only her mother could hear, "I'm not sure if he'd ever seen someone who looked exactly like that between the legs before. What happened to you?"
"What?" her mother looked blank for a moment before blurting, "Oh, that! I, um, well, sweetie, I shaved...you know, myself."
Melissa gave a significant glance at her brother, but her mother said quickly, "Oh, I don't care if he knows. It's nothing to be ashamed of."
The plump twelve-year-old was fascinated. "You shaved? You shaved your pussy? Why?"
"I just wanted to," the woman said, attempting to sound nonchalant. "I like the way it feels." She looked at her daughter and said brightly, "If you'd like to try it sometime, let me know. I'll be happy to help."
Melissa swallowed discreetly. The idea sounded, well, exotic and interesting and the thought of her mother touching her cunt made her feel inexplicably warm all of a sudden. She idly wondered whether Stephanie would like it if she tried it. Or Keith. "Uh, I'll let you know," she said before her train of thought could go any further along those lines.
"So anyway," Melissa went on hurriedly, "Maybe John really couldn't tell anything. I mean, if he was expecting, er, hair, well, maybe he thought you had on flesh-colored panties."
"Maybe," her mother said dubiously, her cheeks still faintly pink.
"Well look at it this way," Keith said with a sidelong grin, "You still kept some mystery about you – he still doesn't know if you're a natural redhead."
"Don't you have a meet to get ready for?" spluttered Margaret while Melissa tried unsuccessfully to stifle a snigger. "Go on, away with you," his mother waved with mock imperiousness, "if that's the biggest help you can be."
The fourteen-year-old boy gave a lazy stretch. "Maybe I will go upstairs and lie down a while," he declared. "I am kind of tired. For some reason I was up most of the night." Melissa noticed that he glanced at his mother with a puzzling twinkle in his eye.
Her mother replied evenly, "Then I imagine you'd better get all the rest you can – in case the same thing keeps you up tonight." She paused, and then said in a much softer tone, "I'm going to run out and do some shopping in a bit. In case I'm not back before you leave, have a great meet. I hope you do really well." She blew him a kiss as he went out the door.
"So," her mother asked as soon as Keith's footsteps were heard going up the stairs, "Is there anything else that happened last night? It seemed like you might be reluctant to talk about things in front of your brother."
Melissa temporized while frantically trying to decide how much of the truth she could safely reveal, "Well, I had a really great time."
"So you like Brad?" her mother prompted.
"Yeah, I really do," Melissa confessed. "I didn't know him all that well before last night. I mean, we'd sometimes talk about stuff when I was hanging around with Stephanie, and I always thought he was cute. But," she gave a small smile, "it turned out that he is really a decent guy underneath all the smart-alecky crap. I guess he really wanted to dance with me – Stephanie tried to tell me yesterday afternoon that he liked me – but he was scared to ask me. So anyway, his friends were teasing him about it, so he dared them that if he asked me to dance, then they had to all dance with Stephanie, so she wouldn't be sitting there alone. Isn't that sweet?"
Her mother agreed that it was. "Men are so funny," she said with a slow shake of her head. "Sometimes – hell, most of the time, they can be such absolutely self-centered buttheads, and then every once in a while they'll do something like that to make you think maybe there's hope for them." She winced. "Don't listen to me; I'm just old and cynical. I'm glad, especially for your sake, that if you like him, he seems to be decent."
"You're not old," protested her daughter. "You're a young woman, and you're beautiful and sexy, too. John sure as heck noticed."
"Yeah, don't remind me of what John noticed, all right?" Margaret sighed. "How about Stephanie? How did she take it when you and Brad hooked up?"
"Great," asserted the young girl, "It was her idea in the first place."
"Really?" her mother said, surprised. "Usually when a girl ends up with a friend's brother, that's the end of the friendship."
"That's kind of what John was talking to me about in the car this morning," Melissa admitted. "He wanted to be sure that neither of his kids got hurt."
"Smart man," her mother commented. "So what'd you say to him?"
"I told him that Stephanie and I already talked about it, and we promised that we're never going to let Brad or any other guy get between us."
Her mother sighed, "I know that's what you say now, but it's not so easy to keep up, especially when he wants to do one thing and your friend wants to do another. No matter which way you decide, someone always gets hurt. Eventually, you risk both your boyfriend and your friendship." She looked at her daughter with sympathy. "Do you understand?"
"I understand what you're saying," Melissa said with some heat, "But you don't understand the situation. What I have with Stephanie isn't something I'm going to give up for any boy, not even one as cute and nice as Brad. I love her more than anyone in the world except maybe you; what we have is way beyond friendship."
"What do you mean?" Margaret asked quietly, her heart in her throat, "How far beyond friendship?"
"Way beyond," Melissa said recklessly, realizing that she was treading on extremely thin ice but unwilling to deny her love for Stephanie, "About as far beyond as you can go."
She stopped, appalled that she had let that last remark slip out. Her mother looked stricken. The silence stretched uncomfortably.
Finally her mother asked in a very soft voice, "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"I don't know," Melissa said, her chin lifting in defiance. "What do you think I'm saying?"
"Well," Margaret began, not really knowing how to get the subject out in the open in a way that wouldn't make Melissa feel like she was being attacked, "Maybe I'm thinking that you two have become really, really close. Maybe you feel like you care for each other more than anyone. Maybe you've even done some things together that made you uncomfortable afterward."
"We have become really close, and we definitely care deeply about each other, more than for anyone else. But we definitely have not done anything that made us uncomfortable, either during or afterward," Melissa blurted, confused and hurt by her mother's words.
Margaret felt a surge of such joy and fear at her daughter's answer that it was almost painful. She was acute enough to understand the way Melissa had phrased her answer; she carefully did not deny doing anything with Stephanie, she only denied that it made them uncomfortable. That was exactly the way Margaret would have responded had anyone asked her if she'd done anything with Celeste that made her uncomfortable.
"Mom?" Melissa interrupted her reverie, "Can I ask you something really personal?"
"You can ask," her mother said in a voice tight with emotion.
"Are you a lesbian?" the girl demanded.
"What do you mean?" her mother stammered. "I was married to a man for twelve years. I had two children. What kind of a question is that?"
"You know what I mean," persisted her daughter, "I mean, do you like women, sexually? Do women turn you on? Do you fantasize about women when you masturbate? I know enough to know that lots of lesbians get married and even have children."
"Why do you want to know?" Margaret stalled.
"Because it's really important to me," her daughter insisted.
"You mean, you want me to trust you before you trust me," the older woman shot back.
Melissa gaped, realizing that her mother was right. She took a deep breath, "That's fair. So, okay - the answer to the question you never came out and asked is yes. Stephanie and I are lovers. We made love to each other last night, and it was the most incredible thing that's happened to me in my life. I love her with all my heart and soul and body. And we did talk about how we felt. We both still like guys, too, and want to date them and everything. But what we feel for each other is way more than I can imagine feeling for a guy. Does that answer your question?"
Margaret exhaled slowly. She felt such a mixture of emotions – terrible fear for the difficult path her daughter had chosen, joy over the love she had found, and pride that she understood and could explain herself so well.
"And the answer to the question you did ask me is also yes," Margaret said in a voice choked with emotion. "I was only a little older than you when I fell head over heels in love with my best friend."
"Really?" Melissa asked, astonished. She had been pretty sure her mother had lesbian tendencies just from the way they'd been reacting to each other over the past day, but it had never occurred to her that her own mother might have had a similar experience to her own. "What happened?" she eagerly wanted to know.
A look of pain flashed across the older woman's face. "For a while, it was wonderful; everything you are feeling about Stephanie and more. But it ended very, very badly." She paused to dab at the tears that had welled up at the memories. "It still hurts too much to talk about the details. I'll tell you someday, I promise."
She sniffed loudly then looked at her daughter with such fierce intensity that Melissa was momentarily taken aback. "But I also promise you that I will do everything any human being can do to keep that from happening to you! The outside world will be terribly, terribly hard for you two, especially at your age. You'll have to keep your affections an absolute secret, and that won't be easy. But I also promise you that this house will be a safe place for you. You may bring Stephanie here any time, and you'll have acceptance, security, and love. I swear to God you will!"
Melissa was speechless for a moment then said quietly, "You're amazing, Mom." Her mother stared at her with an inquiring look in her rheumy eyes, and the young girl continued, "I guess I never thought you'd be so understanding. That's totally cool, and I really, really appreciate it."
Margaret flashed a bleary smile and Melissa went on, "And I do understand about having to keep quiet about my relationship with Stephanie, not only for us, but for you, too. I know that if people found out that you knew about it and let it go on, you could get in big trouble, even have us kids taken away from you."
Her mother goggled, "Well, I think that would be extremely unlikely, and I don't want you having to worry about that! But," she nodded, "being discreet in public will be a very good plan, at least for a few years."
"Well, that's one good thing about me going with Brad, isn't it?" Melissa suggested, "I mean, who's going to suspect there's anything going on with me and Stephanie if I'm going out with her brother, right? It even gives me more reason to be hanging out at her house."
"You're pretty clever, you know that?" her mother acknowledged with a wry smile. Melissa nodded modestly, not wanting to have to reveal that she'd already had a similar conversation with Stephanie's father who'd been the one to point out the advantages of a relationship with his son.
"One more thing," Margaret said in a more serious tone, "Please let me know before you bring Stephanie over if you plan on, well, enjoying each other to the fullest, shall we say. I need to have a talk with Keith so that he understands."
"Okay, Mom," the young redhead promised. "But I think he'd probably be pretty cool with it if he knew you were."
"I agree, which is why I want to make sure I speak to him first." Her mother had finished cleaning up the breakfast dishes and had turned her attention to the pile of laundry. As she pulled the clothes out of Melissa's overnight bag, she held up the skimpy, sheer camisole. "I was kind of hoping that Stephanie would be impressed with this," she admitted in a low voice, an embarrassed smile flitting across her face. "I wasn't thinking all that clearly when I packed it, I guess; it never occurred to me that the men in her house would be likely to see you in it as well."
"Well, it really wasn't a problem," Melissa said quickly, not wanting to get into any detail about exactly how much they seemed to appreciate it, then she stopped short. "Wait a minute – you mean to tell me you were trying to set me up with Stephanie all along?" she asked, an incredulous smile spreading over her face.
"Well, no, not really – uh, well, maybe, yes, maybe I was," the older woman mumbled, blushing fiercely.
"Mom!" cried Melissa, "I can't believe you! But I'm glad," she added with a heartfelt smile. "Thank you."
"It seems to have worked out well for you," her mother said with a sidelong glance. "No, I'm not prying – you don't have to tell me all the details," she assured Melissa, though something about her face led the girl to believe that she would love to hear them.
Just then the older woman, who had been continuing to pull the clothing out of Melissa's bag, frowned. "I suppose there's also a logical explanation for why you didn't bring home that expensive lingerie I gave you last night," she asked pointedly.
Melissa felt a brief stab of panic but concluded that the truth might actually be the best ploy in this case. "I'm really sorry, Mom. I left them at Stephanie's. She had me take them off last night in the restroom after the dance – it was a dare to tease her brother, she said."
"I see," said her mother, who didn't, but was definitely interested in learning more. "So you took them off?"
"Uh, yeah, only I demanded that she take hers off and give them to me as a trade, you know? So we stripped them off there in the stall; that was sort of the start of things, if you know what I mean," the girl confessed, smiling at the lascivious memory.
"Oh," was all her mother could say for a moment. "You were in the same stall together. Yes, okay, I see." Her voice sounded oddly husky. "You took of your clothes in the same stall and traded your underthings, only neither of you put them back on, is that the idea?"
"That's it," the twelve-year-old nodded, enjoying her mother's obvious lewd discomfiture, "Only it's not like we were taking a big risk – we were the only ones in the rest room. We went to one of the buildings at the back of the school that Steph knew had a restroom that wouldn't lock. It was kind of creepy at first being in the dark like that, but then when we were both naked and really close to each other, it was incredibly sexy. This is really fantastic, being able to tell you this, Mom!" she blurted.
"Well, I'm really glad that you can, too," the older woman said, and Melissa noticed the glittering eyes and deepening breathing that revealed her mother's growing arousal. "Well, I guess I can't be too upset at you not bringing your underwear home under those circumstances."
"I'll get them back," promised the plump seventh-grade girl.
"No, I'll tell you what," her mother answered, "Why don't you let her keep them? They'll be a special keepsake of your first night together."
"Oh, Mom! That's so sweet!" Melissa enthused and she stepped next to her mother and hugged her tightly. For a moment, she had the distinct impression that her mother was going to kiss her again the way she had in the closet the previous evening.
But at last, the woman stepped away, shaking her head then looking up as if she'd reached some kind of a decision. "Will you be okay here for a couple of hours? There's some shopping I need to do."
"Uh, sure, Mom," the girl reassured her mother, puzzled at the sudden shift in mood. "Are you all right?"
"Absolutely," Margaret assured her, "I just need to pick some things up." She began to bustle about, flinging the dirty laundry into the washing machine and hurriedly starting the cycle. She handed the remaining unworn clothing and the overnight bag to her daughter. "Would you please take these upstairs? Try not to wake up your brother if he's sleeping right now, but don't let him sleep past one-thirty, okay? He's got to leave for his cross-country meet by two. I'll be back some time after that, probably."
"All right, Mom," Melissa promised, "I won't let him miss it. Have fun shopping."
"I'll be back soon," the older woman assured her, but the smile on her face was most mysterious.
The pubescent girl took her belongings upstairs, wondering at what her mother could be up to, but also very aware that she was going to have some time alone with Keith. She dropped her clothing and bag in her room and watched at the window as her mother pulled the car out of the driveway, waiting for an additional minute to ensure her mother didn't suddenly return before poking her head out into the hallway to look at her brother's room. His door was pulled around but not latched, and the twelve-year-old girl tiptoed to it to peer in at the crack.
Without pushing the door open, she could only see Keith's feet at the end of the bed so she opened the door with extreme care, wanting to see him without being observed if she could. Maybe she could catch him jerking off again, she thought to herself. But once she had worked the door open an inch, she was disappointed to see that he was still clothed and appeared to be sleeping.
The plump seventh grader wandered back to her room in a quandary. She was torn between waking him up immediately and risking him being disgruntled at being awoken, or to let him sleep and possibly wait so long that the opportunity to be alone with him slipped away altogether.
She pondered for a few moments, until an outrageously daring plan took shape in her young mind. He couldn't possibly be angry with her if she woke him up in the nude, could he? She hoped not, and quickly stripped out of the blouse and skirt she'd been wearing since yesterday evening, pausing long enough to give her thick, auburn hair a good brushing and to dab a touch of her favorite cologne on her neck. She smiled at her own audacity as she also put a hint of the perfume between her precociously developed breasts as well.
Thus armed, she stepped back out into the hallway, her heart pounding with lewd excitement and the boldness of walking through the house naked. She padded softly up to her brother's door once more and pushed it all the way open, stepping in quickly.
Keith sensed her presence through his light doze and roused, raising his head to gaze at her blearily. "Wha-?" he asked, blinking rapidly. "You don't have any clothes on!"
"I'm glad you noticed," his sister said with a broad smile, "It means you're awake and not dreaming."
"Where's Mom?" the boy asked, struggling to come to his senses.
"She went out shopping for a couple of hours, she said," Melissa informed him with an intent glance. "We're all alone."
"Oh," he replied, then, "Oh!" as the significance dawned on him. He was wide-awake now, and he ogled his nude, well-endowed sister unabashedly.
Melissa climbed up next to him on the bed and snuggled up close, running her hand slowly down the tank top on his chest towards the shorts below. He turned his head and gazed at her with frank interest.
"So, you still want to see how girls make themselves come?" the twelve-year-old redhead asked with a seductive half-smile. Her hand continued to glide down his front, coming to rest gently on top of the bulge at his crotch. She squeezed her brother's cock and balls lovingly, making the teenaged boy gasp with pleasure.
"Hell, yeah!" he declared with a growl, "God! You've turned into a total sexpot, haven't you?" He smiled to show he was teasing, and cautiously reached out to touch her breast, running his finger slowly around the coffee-colored aureole. The young girl sighed with pleasure and arousal at his touch and began lightly stroking the shaft of her brother's rapidly stiffening prick through the thin material of his shorts, making him groan as his cock twitched involuntarily.
"It's all because of you," Melissa protested somewhat breathlessly as the boy's finger homed in on her young, turgid nipple and began tweaking it playfully. "Watching you make yourself come yesterday was what got me started." She smiled and leaned in towards his face, kissing his cheek softly, "And I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since. I've been wanting to see you come like crazy – I want to watch it squirt out of your cock like you promised. So are you going to help me?"
"S-sure," Keith gasped, stunned at the happy but unexpected turn of events that had somehow induced both his mother and his sister to eagerly share their bodies with him. "What do you want me to do?"
His sister sprang up onto her knees above him and seized the waistband of his gym shorts, tugging them down firmly. "First," she demanded, "We take this off so I can see you!"
The fourteen-year-old boy laughed in mock protest but did nothing to hinder the girl as she pulled his shorts off, revealing his throbbing, tumescent cock, its head already purpling from its swelling.
"Better, much better," breathed Melissa, gingerly touching her brother's erection, her eyes wide. She'd had a glimpse of it the day before and had even dared to put her lips on it, but she hadn't had the time to really study it up close before. She marveled at the warm, dry feel of it, the way the veins pulsed under the surface of the silky skin, the way the head shone in the afternoon light. It really does look like a mushroom, she realized. Maybe that was why semen smelled to her like cream of mushroom soup; the thought made her giggle.
Keith's hands were taking full advantage of her nudity meanwhile and roaming freely over her skin. Melissa allowed him to touch her wherever he liked, reveling in the deliciously naughty sensations. The young boy's fingers found their way into her crotch and probed tentatively into the dank, slippery crevice between her legs.
"Oh, yes," moaned his sister, closing her eyes, "Feel how wet you make me?"
"Uh, huh," gasped Keith as his sibling gripped his rigid prick firmly and began stroking it rhythmically. "Feel how hard you make me?"
"God, yes," the girl agreed huskily, "I love the way you feel."
Without warning, she removed her hand from his straining member and, flinging her large, soft thigh over his waist, straddled him, sliding her drenched cunt slit down the length of his hard-on as she did. She grabbed the hem of his tank top, crying, "C'mon! Take this off right now! I want to see all of you. You've got me so fucking horny I can't stand it!"
Her brother gulped at the unexpected pleasure from feeling her hot, very wet pussy in direct incestuous contact with his rock-hard dick, but he gamely struggled out of his tank top, laughing at his sister's inept assistance while desperately trying not to lose the obscene touch of their pubescent genitals pressed together. Eventually, the two of them worked his top off over his head and he flopped back down on his bed, reaching up with both hands to caress the huge, soft globes of his sister's breasts. He thrust his hips up and down, forcing his throbbing cock to slide along the twelve-year-old girl's cunt slit. He was in heaven and could feel the first stirrings of an orgasm starting to build within him.
Melissa realized as well that things were moving along so rapidly that they were both likely to come if they kept on pumping against each other in their present lewd position. She could feel the large swollen shaft of her brother's prick as it moved unhindered through her slippery gash, and every nerve in her body was crying out for her to reach down and take his prick in her hand to guide it into her vagina. She wanted to fuck her brother so badly; every instinct was screaming at her lust-addled brain that she should be fucking him right now.
But two things held her back. The first was that she really did want to be able to see him come, to actually watch the thick, creamy fluid shoot out of the tip of his cock, and she knew that if he came between her legs or, if she dared, actually inside her cunt, she would miss it again. But the main reason was that she wasn't completely certain of Keith's reaction. He had seemed pretty spooked when he came on her back the previous afternoon and, while he seemed considerably bolder and more confident for some reason today, she had a niggling fear in the back of her mind that he might freak out if she were so forward, and she couldn't bear the thought of him suddenly rejecting her as some sort of nymphomaniac pervert.
So, though it nearly made her scream in frustration to do so, she threw herself away from atop her older brother's body and flopped onto her back beside him. Instantly, her hand sought the steaming recesses of her pussy and began to plunge her fingers in and out, teasing the almost painfully turgid clitoris that was now protruding from within the oozing folds of her cunt lips.
"C'mon, Keith," she urged, "Touch yourself. I want to see you make yourself come." Her breathing was already ragged from her incestuous arousal and her pale, smooth skin was flushed with splotches of red and glistened from beads of perspiration. "Kneel here on the bed next to me while you jerk off so I can see you," she pleaded as her hand thrust, piston-like into the depths of her copper-haired pussy, the pungent aroma of a fully aroused pubescent girl filling the room. "That way, you can shoot your come all over me, wherever you like. You can come on my tits like you asked; you can even come on my face, and I'll love it. C'mon, Keith!"
Her brother, who'd been briefly annoyed when his sister had broken off her incestuous grinding of her cunt against his prick as she straddled him, was sufficiently turned on by her obscene begging that he quickly forgot his pique and scrambled to his knees. In no time, he was manfully slamming his fist up and down the length of his fourteen-year-old cock, his eyes glued to her fingers that were appearing and disappearing with increasing rapidity between her plump thighs.
The boy was fascinated to watch his sister masturbating and thought it was one of the most incredibly erotic sights he'd ever seen. While her one hand worked frantically in and out of her cunt with a wet, sucking sound, her other hand was squeezing and caressing first one large breast then the other, her fingers teasing and pinching her nipples, which were so lust-hardened that they resembled Tootsie Roll candies.
He smiled with recognition and said, "I like to pinch my nipples sometimes, too."
His sister grinned eagerly, grunting through her exertions, "Do it. Pinch your tits. I want to see you totally turning yourself on." She nodded in approval when her brother flashed an oddly shy smile then commenced teasing his small nipples, which quickly enlarged at the attention.
Keith looked intently at his young sibling's hand as it ground rhythmically into her crotch. "Do you ever put your fingers inside yourself?" he wondered as his own hand kept pumping his rigid cock.
"Shit, yeah!" she confirmed, "Big time. Would you like to see?"
He nodded enthusiastically, so she spread her legs apart more widely with a lascivious grin, raising her knees up in order to give him a better view and herself easier entrée. Coating two fingers with the slimy quim that had drenched her entire vulva, she slid them as deeply as she could into her welcoming cunt hole, her eyes never leaving her brother's face. She gave a couple of extra thrusts to drive them all the way inside herself, burying them to the joint of her palm and rapidly buzzing her clit with her thumb to intensify the obscene sensation.
The pure eroticism of turning herself on for her brother had Melissa semi-crazed with lust. Her body writhed and her back arched of its own accord as she began to slide her paired fingers in and out of her virgin twat, slowly at first but then with quickly accelerating rhythm. "Y-you like?' she gasped to her brother, who was staring spellbound at his twelve-year-old sister's li
