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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