Dear Diary:
Well, the secret between Mom and me is out, at least to Janet. It happened last night.
I've been seeing Janet for several months now. She's a great girl, and so enthusiastic about scat. But I hadn't told her the truth about how I got into it though, because I was afraid it would shock her too much. Yesterday, I finally brought her home to meet Mom.
We arrived at Mom's house about noon, and to my relief the two of them hit it off right away. All three of us talked up a storm over lunch, and then we went out together for some shopping and a movie. I was so pleased to see how they instantly connected in so many ways, almost like a mother and daughter who hadn't seen each other for sometime.
When we got back, Mom offered to just stay home and have dinner by herself if we wanted to go out and spend some time alone, but both of us protested that we were having too much fun with her. We decided to all stay in and cook dinner together. Mom and Janet cooked, and we had a great dinner, all of which took hours and hours, though the time went by like minutes. We drank a couple bottles of wine, and had a nice buzz on.
Then Mom said she'd go to bed and leave us kids alone. We protested, but she wouldn't listen. She'd just pop into the shower and then read for awhile in her room. The rest of the house was ours she said, and she went in for her shower. Both Janet and me wanted to fuck in front of the fireplace, but she was nervous about Mom. I told her not to worry, Mom would leave us alone and we could do anything we wanted -- even play with scat. Janet was skeptical, but she got into her nightie and I put a robe on in preparation for our fun. We lit a fire in the fireplace, turned out the lights and got some cheese and more wine.
Just as we were about to settle down for some delicious filthy fucking, I heard Mom coming out of the bathroom. She called out "good night" to us from around the corner, and Janet called "good night" back, but I shouted for Mom to come in and give us kisses goodnight.
She came into the living room, wrapped in her thick white terry cloth robe. I got a peck on the cheek and then she gave Janet a hug and a kiss good night.
"Mom," I said, "at least sit down and have one more glass of wine with us before you go to bed!"
She hesitated, but Janet grabbed her hand and pulled her down on the floor with us. We poured her a glass of wine and she stretched out in front of the fire. We talked, about the day, the movie we'd seen, old love affairs -- whatever came to our minds and hearts. Mom stretched out on her side in front of the fire, supporting her head in one hand, elbow to the floor, holding her wine glass in the other hand. We drank and nibbled on cheese, feeling more and more relaxed and free with each other.
At one point, she shifted to get more comfortable, and her robe fell open from her feet nearly to her crotch, exposing her lovely firm thighs. Janet tried to avert her eyes, but they kept returning to Mom's legs, and the barely concealed triangle of fur that marked their culmination.
Now, I said to myself, is the time to give Janet a hint of the truth about my relationship with my Mother. I reached out for Mom's robe, certain that Janet would assume I was going to pull it closed around her out of modesty, but instead let my hand fall on Mom's leg. I stroked her absent- mindedly, which caused not the slightest interruption in Mom's conversation. In fact, I thought I detected a slight spreading of her legs, and so encouraged, by her or by my own desires, caressed her leg further up, along her inner thigh.
My eyes met Janet's, and acknowledged the truth of the suspicion that leaped into her mind. Her face told me she couldn't believe what she was seeing, that it was too impossible to be true, that she must be misunderstanding what was happening. I squashed Janet's doubts but pushing Mom's robe further apart, and openly petting my darling mother's soft, dense, furry love box. Mom's breathing deepened ever so slightly, and she spread her legs a bit further apart and thrust her hips forward, undeniably assisting me in my efforts.
All this time, our conversation had continued, so uninterrupted that a tape recording of it would have revealed nothing of what was actually happening, would not have captured the slightest evidence of any disturbance or uneasiness between us.
Mom and Janet looked at each, Mom's eyes revealing all, pleading for Janet's understanding and acceptance, or at the very least tolerance. Janet's eyes responding unmistakably, with a surge of love and completely embracing the relationship this woman had established with her son. It had taken only a split second for Mom's eyes to pose this question, and for Janet's to respond. No words were necesssary.
Mom put her wine glass down and extended an arm to Janet, inviting her to come close. Janet leaned over and the two women, my Mom and my girlfriend, kissed -- sweetly, tenderly, longingly, passionately, their mouths communicating the reality of what the eyes only hinted at. They touched, tasted, then devoured each other, their mouths and tongues and lips interpenetrating as no other organs could.
Finally, they broke their embrace. A little tipsy, Janet got to her feet.
"Be right back. Have to tinkle," she said.
Mom took her hand, holding her back.
"Don't go, you'll break the mood."
"There'll be a mess on the floor if I don't," Janet laughed.
Mom tossed off the last of her wine and handed the empty glass to Janet.
"Use this."
Janet looked at me, her eyes wide. I smiled "yes" to her. A bit uncertain, she squatted in front of us and positioned the wine glass between her legs, the rim just touching her beautiful mound. Mom was transfixed. I felt a rush of wetness over my fingers from Mom's pussy, and gently twisted two fingers deeper into her. Janet concentrated on her business, but as the pee started to trickle out into the glass, confirming her aim, she looked up to see the pure lust animating Mom's face and my fingers turning inside her pussy. Janet's hand trembled. Janet's stream surged, and the loud splash of swirling golden fluid mixed with the fire's crackling. The nectar foamed, and the delightfully piquant smell of ammonia wafted over us. My hand was soaked with juices from Mom's pussy, and with a suppressed moan she came, spasmodically clutching my fingers inside her.
Janet's stream trickled to a stop, and she squeezed the last few drops out with her fingers. Janet looked for an out-of- the-way spot to set the glass down, but Mom intervened.
"Don't I get my glass back?" she said.