The weeks passed; the fucking continued. They would spend entire mornings and afternoons in their room, it seemed to Helen. Working, sending CV's, that sort of thing, or even just fucking. Make an appearance at breakfast, go back to their room, fuck, go take a shower, frequently together, go back to the room and fuck again, come out for lunch and then return and fuck some more.
In the evenings, they usually sat in front of the TV, keeping Helen company. Her daughter, usually sparsely clothed. They took the sofa, while she sat in her chair at the side of it. Looking over now and then and catching a grope or an act of extreme intimacy, as they would rest, tucked in close together. Eden habitually had a hand under Charlie's shirt, fondling her tit. But often, Helen saw out of the corner of her eye, movement under the blanket they had over them and assumed he was playing with her pussy.
They almost always retired to bed early, and several minutes after leaving the room, Helen would be greeted by the sounds of their ragged voices in their sex act. It was heaven and it was hell. She knew she shouldn't listen, she knew she shouldn't touch herself there in the living room, where only moments earlier her daughter had been. But she couldn't help it, and after time, didn't want to help it. She often played one of her gang-bang pornos on mute as she played with herself, the soundtrack of the fuck-fest upstairs, all the audio she needed.
Then there were the mornings. They showered, often together, which was fine by Helen, even if she heard and knew they were fucking in there. She'd shower after them, bathing in the post fuck environment of the wet room. But sometimes she walked into the bathroom and found them in the bath and the momentary awkwardness would embarrass her and she would apologize and leave.
Sometimes it would be Charlie in the bath and Eden would be standing over the sink, shaving, naked, his cock on display. Once she walked in and they were in the bath fucking, the water lapping back and forth, sometimes spilling over the edge. They didn't even notice her, so engrossed by their fuck, she stood for a moment longer than she should have, watching, then left.
Eden continued to work on the vegetable garden behind the house grounds, while Charlie would help her mother run errands, or the two would lounge in the sun, reading books and magazines, naked.
The nudity over time lost its edge. Helen became so used to seeing her daughter naked or close to naked that when she was fully clothed it struck her as bizarre. Eden too for that matter was often seen walking naked from the bathroom to their bedroom or getting out of the pool.
And as their collective attitudes shifted, Helen started feeling more relaxed about being nude around the pair, if it was sunbathing or, stepping out of the shower. She liked wrapping a towel around her waist after she finished bathing, letting her tits air dry as it were, and often would go about the place, the kitchen, the laundry room, etc. in this style. Eden might pass her on the stairs and help himself to an eyeful and she welcomed it. Even Charlie sometimes brazenly studied her mother's naked body when they were sunbathing together, often commenting positively about Helen's tits or the firmness of her ass.
Charlie eventually was the first to hear back about work. A temp job in administrative accounting. It was boring stuff, but it was an income. A nine to five office grind. Eden teased her mercilessly about it, about selling out and her working for a characterless entity. If the shoe was on the other foot, she'd have done the same, it was harmless hazing.
What struck a chord with Helen as they discussed it over dinner one night, was how openly they both speculated on the idea of Charlie having some kind of office romance.
Eden began, ribbing her about getting her lights fucked out on all the office furniture, copying machines and office desks. His words were equally so relaxed and so sexual that Helen felt her panties moisten in excitement, upon hearing him speak this way to her daughter. And the images he concocted only grew more erotic; telling Charlie she'd have to buy plenty of pencil skirts and stiletto 'fuck-me' heels.
"You probably shouldn't even bother wearing panties because your boss and co-workers will have you bent over their desks so often, the pencil skirt up around your waist as you get railed from behind, from one end of the day to the next."
Charlie sat listening to him, a little smile lining across her thick lips. Her arm closest to Eden under the table, her hand moving back and forth, massaging something.
"He's always had a thing for a woman in office attire." She explained to her mother.
"Really?" Helen played along, coy little smile matching her daughters, their sexual antics long past the point of shocking, almost tame now in a way, like white noise.
"Oh yeah, but particularly, I love ripping that attire off a woman's back." Eden clarified. "A white button shirt to tear open, a black pencil skirt to force back up over her hips, a pair of panties to push to the side or tear away completely, shoving her back over a desk and having your way." He finished, smiling right at Helen.
"He's such a beast." Charlie sighed indifferently. Her hand still in motion on his lap. She knew her mother saw her hand; knew her mother probably had a good idea what she was doing. It didn't stop her, and if she had brought it up; 'you don't mind, do you?', she knew her mother wouldn't have any problems with it.
"That's awfully sexy," Helen said, looking straight into Eden's eyes as she said it. Having fun with the open and playful sexuality of the pair was something she liked, it was fresh and different and not at all boring. As torturous as it could be at times, she would rather have it this way - allowing her daughter to give her boyfriend a handjob under the dinner table, right in front of her - than to smother it.
But the conversation of office romances for Charlie continued but in a more earnest tone. A conversation of an actual office affair, like it was something that not only could happen but seemingly was something Eden actively encouraged.
"And you wouldn't mind this?" Helen asked him, at an opening in their discussion.
"She needs a break from me from time to time." He answered straight-faced. "Whether it's just to get away from me for a little while, a few hours, or having a legitimate lover on the side who she might see for a few days at a time, she needs her own space and freedoms."
"And that applies to him too, by the way. He needs a break from me sometimes, space, time... lovers." Helen took it all in. The maturity, trust, and respect between them was something she'd seen seldom in her life. Society just didn't encourage that line of thinking about relationships.
She thought it sad for a moment, but only a moment and then corrected herself. It wasn't sad at all but liberating for the lucky few who had their eyes open to different, unique ways to maintain a loving relationship. It was like Charlie and Eden were part of some lucky exclusive club, with only a certain number of members. And she further wondered, was it a club she wanted to join.
*
The days grew longer with the summer season, the vegetable garden started taking shape and Eden worked it longer and longer hours with the added daylight. Helen or Charlie or both often dropping by to lend a hand, when it was the young couple over there alone, Helen sometimes wondered if they were having sex, out in the open under the sun. It made her smile to think they might be.
Eventually, work started for Charlie and the morning they saw her off, Helen was pleasantly shocked when she saw her daughter off at the door for her first day. Sure enough, she was wearing a white blouse with a pencil skirt and stiletto shoes, her hair tied neatly in a bun. And then the thought shot through her; 'she must not be wearing panties.'
Eden kissed her goodbye at the front door and they both wished her good luck for her first day. She got in her car and they waved to her from the porch as she drove up the path away from the house. There was silence then between Eden and Helen, that conveyed their uncertainty as to what to do next.
They were alone now in the house, no one around for miles and no one to bother them all day. There was nothing but time and close proximity for them now. They might not have admitted it, even to themselves, but there was an underlining sexual attraction between them. A sexual tension in the space around them, so turning to him, Helen smiled and nodded and simply went back into the house, putting a distance between her, her feelings and desires, and her daughter's boyfriend.
She stayed in her bedroom the rest of the morning, wanting to indulge in her own nudity. It was different now that Charlie was gone, she didn't feel good about being naked and alone around Eden, as if Charlie's presence acted as a barrier to whatever existed sexually between herself and him.
She watched him swim his morning laps in the pool, from her window. Watching his naked form glide across the water's surface, back and forth. It was hot and it was only morning. Sweat beaded and drained down between her breasts. She wanted to touch herself but knew the exhaustion would cause a deluge of more perspiration, plus with Charlie gone, she felt it inappropriate to stroke her pussy to the fantasy of Eden fucking her brains out, without her daughter's presence working as an obstacle to that fantasy becoming a reality.
She needed to cool down. She needed to swim in the pool. Could they both occupy the same space naked, harmlessly swimming around each other? Would she be able to contain herself? Would he try an advance on her? Would she stop him if he did?
She decided against it, going for a cold shower instead. Circling a finger around her clit until she climaxed, in the process of bathing, finally submitting to her own temptations. When she stepped out of the bathroom, it was in her usual form; her towel wrapped around her waist, tits exposed to the warm air to dry naturally.
