Surprise!
When Megan didn't answer the doorbell, I used my key to let myself in. Her car was in the carport so I knew she was home. The spot for her mother's, however, was empty.
"Hey Sweet Puss, I'm home!" I called from the foyer.
No answer. She must be upstairs in her bedroom getting into one of her sexy swim suits. We'd just finished our first year of college and had started summer jobs. Today was a rare day off for both of us and we looked forward to a lazy afternoon in her backyard pool.
No Megan in her bedroom. Nor in the spare bedroom used as a study. Nor in the bedroom belonging to her mother (who insisted I call her Julie). On Julie's unmade bed lay two bra and panty sets.
Julie and Megan interacted more like sisters than mother-daughter, probably because at Megan's birth Julie had just turned fifteen. They not only looked like twins (same height, hair style, long legged, small breasts, large brown eyes) but shared similar personality traits (easy going, witty, and loved to tease).
Megan never knew her father and Julie never mentioned him. After three nightmarish relationships, Julie stopped dating. Megan said her mom had a talent for attracting jerks.
I wondered if both sets of underwear on the bed belonged to Julie. Had they been recently worn? Being the pervert I am, I buried my face in the purple lace panties. The feel of the fabric against my face, and the funky aroma brought back a memory from a year ago when Megan and I had just graduated high school.
***
I was in her living room watching a baseball game on TV, waiting for Megan to come home from work.
The game turned out to be a nail-biter, the visitors ahead 1-0 with the home team batting in the bottom of the eighth. The visitors' starting pitcher had a no-hitter going.
Julie appeared in a bikini. Lately, when Megan wasn't around, her mother teased me with provocative outfits: short-shorts, mini-skirts, low-cut tops.
"Got a text from Megan," Julie said. "She has to cover part of a shift for someone who called in sick. Said she'll be another three hours."
"Thanks," I said. "She sent me one too."
Julie slipped next to me on the couch, put an arm around my neck and nestled her head against my shoulder. I was struck by how Megan did the exact same thing when we cuddled. Julie placed her other hand on my thigh. "I guess you'll have to wait a bit longer for your blowjob tonight."
She started rubbing my thigh. "Or not!"
With her head on my shoulder I couldn't see her face to tell if she was teasing or serious. I didn't want to say or do the wrong thing so I kept quiet.
My attention went back to the game for a few moments. The visitors' pitcher had struck out the first two batters. Now the home team's best hitter came to the plate. I got distracted from the game when Julie moved her hand within a hair of my crotch.
"Unless you've got a gun in your pocket," she said, "you're seem awfully glad to have my hand where it is."
I chuckled at her Mae West reference. While my cock yearned for her hand, my brain failed to come up with something witty to say.
Until now, Julie had never flirted with me unless Megan was around.
I stared at the TV, waiting for Julie to say something like "just kidding!" Instead, she said, "Would you mind handing me the remote?"
Like Megan, I also interacted with Julie as I would a sister or friend rather than as my girlfriend's mother.
So without thinking, I said, "Why?"
"I just remembered there's a news program I'd like to watch."
The TV camera focused on a close-up of the pitcher's face, full of concentration and sweat. A graphic showed he had two strikes and a ball on the hitter.
"Let me watch the rest of this at-bat."
"Oh, come on, honey. It's just a baseball game."
"Right, but I want to see what this batter does. Won't be but another minute."
Although my hand was a few inches from the remote, Julie leaned across me to grab it, keeping her right hand around my shoulder. As a result she wound up nearly sitting on my lap.
She knew she hadn't a snowball's chance of taking the remote from me. It was merely an excuse to tease me.
We wound up wrestling for the remote and after a half-minute I found myself on my back with her squirming on top of me, her breathing ragged, her mouth inches from my lips and her face filled with lust.
Her right hand almost touched the remote. So close and yet...
Her heart pounded against my chest, my erection poked her stomach. And once again I couldn't help note how Julie being on top of me felt just like her daughter being there.
Julie thrust her hips against mine. When Megan did this it meant she was ready for me to fuck her. Then as Julie slowly raised her upper body from mine, she undid her top. Her boobs now dangled in front of my face. I resisted the temptation to squeeze them by reminding myself I already knew how they felt: except for being slightly droopy, they were identical to Megan's.
"Do you think if you were blindfolded you could tell the difference?" she said with a wicked grin.
I waited a beat. "I doubt it. Your's look the same, but I'd love the chance to find out."
She guffawed. Then made a point of staring at my crotch as she inched off me, taking her time to retie her top. "Oh my! That's quite a boner."
She giggled like a little girl. "Don't worry, honey. It'll be our little secret."
***
Recalling Julie's comment about the blindfolded boob test got things stirring between my legs. Under the influence of this arousal, I picked up the second pair of panties on Julie's bed.
These were a bright pink. As I fondled the lace for a moment a more recent memory returned, during Christmas break last year.
Megan and I were watching a porn video in her living room. I knew she and Julie watched porn occasionally. But rather than masturbating to what they saw, like I did, they watched because typically they were so poorly made they were funny. It was something they watched when they were bored and wanted a good laugh.
They giggled at the faked lovemaking and staged "orgasms," although now and then they stumbled upon something truly erotic that aroused them to "experiment with each other," as Megan put it.
The video Megan had chosen for us to watch was so bad it was hilarious. The models all had grotesquely huge tits which made Megan wince. They must suffer a lot of backaches, she said. And the fucking scenes were filmed in a manner best described as hackneyed. The dialogue so pedestrian that only the most naive viewer would pant rather than chuckle: "oh my god, oh my god," or, "yeah, that's right, right there, keep doing that, oh fuck that feels so good."
In between laughing and commenting on the acting, Megan and I slowly undressed each other. Megan straddled my lap, facing the TV, and absent-mindedly fingered herself and masturbated me while I played with her nipples.
Suddenly Julie strolled in wearing a long tee-shirt that came to mid-thigh.
We'd grown accustomed to having her mother barge in on us, whether in the living room or Megan's bedroom with the door closed or outside by the pool. No doubt she knew we were fucking, yet Julie always acted surprised. And rather than immediately apologizing and leaving, she stared for a few moments. Was she waiting for an invitation?
When I asked Megan about this she said the idea of sharing me with someone else had no appeal to her. But she'd make an exception for Julie. "If you wanted, I'd let her play with us, but I don't know how I'd feel watching you two fuck."
Julie came to the couch and sat next to me. Megan continued playing with her pussy and my cock.
"Any good?" Julie asked.
I interpreted her question to mean "is it so bad that it's enjoyable to watch?"
"So so."
Julie pressed her face against mine. I thought she wanted to kiss me, but instead she kissed her daughter.
