After Sharon relived herself she headed to work at the Garden Center. She was running late and tried to focus on was being on time and praying she didn't get stopped for speeding.
Once at work it wasn't a particularly busy day and she had time to consider the problem further.
"Is there really a problem," the voice in her head asked, "the girl is 19, old enough to make her own decisions."
Sharon believed she could actually accept lesbian sex between her daughter and Megan. In fact she'd wondered about it for a while now; the girls still had sleep overs and seemed much more "touchy" than Sharon had ever been with a female friend. Plus Megan was really very pretty.
While watering plants in the greenhouse the image of nearly naked Megan ran through Sharon's mind.
Little Megan is sitting, nearly naked at Cathy's feet. Her complexion is perfect, skin is a uniform tan from sun bathing topless. Her tits are B-Cups with no sag, aureola just a little puffy and nipples stick out. Her stomach is flat and toned. Her toenails are painted red to match her fingers. Her only clothing is a pair of simple white, cotton panties with a playing card symbol, a Queen of Spades, on them. They are tight and clingy enough that Sharon can see the outlines of Megan's pussy lips...
A deep voice behind her brought Sharon back to reality. "You okay, Shar?" he asked, "you've been watering those mums for a while." It was her boss, Tim "Old Man" Jackson. He liked being called "Old Man" more than "Tim Senior" and his son was just fine with "Tim" as opposed to "Tim Junior". So that's what everyone called them.
By way of reply Sharon laughed. "Oh God, I guess I have been. Lost in thought. Must be getting old, I guess."
Old Man laughed back. "Nah, not you, Shar. You look like you should still be in high school to me. But maybe, even if we are getting older," he added, "it's nice we can still find time to daydream. Right?"
Sharon smiled back at him. "Who you callin' old, Old Man?" she asked. The fact is they were almost exactly the same age, born only days apart, and had pretty much grown up together. Same nursery, elementary, junior high and high schools. When Tim's son (Timothy Jackson, Jr) was baptized, Sharon was there. When Cathy was christened, Tim Sr. was there.
"So tell me what's on your mind. What's bugging you?"
Sharon shook her head. "No, nothing, just, like you said, day dreaming..."
"Okay," he said walking away, "well, I'll be in my office if you want to talk."
"Old Man" was certainly a better nickname than Tim's father, Marcus Jackson, had. Back when Sharon was a kid everyone called Marcus "Old Nigger Jackson". He had a pickup truck and he ran a little business out of it, cutting lawns, raking leaves and plowing snow for a living.
Marcus died just shy of Tim's 21st birthday. Tim inherited the pickup and built his father's little business into a privately owned chain of garden centers with stores in four counties. No one called Tim "Nigger" anything. At least not to his face.
Work was slow, as it often was this far in the fall. Spring, Summer and even early Fall was reasonably busy, October got a little boost from Halloween decorations and by November things were pretty dead. Sharon would have liked to start putting out the Christmas decorations already, but the Old Man had a strict policy against doing that before Thanksgiving (as opposed to his son, who would have left Christmas stuff out all year long if it made them an extra buck).
That gave her plenty of time to think about the video and, after a bit, she realized that the plants weren't the only thing getting wet.
She needed a distraction. It was Monday, she knew the Old Man would be in his office, watching yesterday morning's football games on his computer. Sundays, according to his wife, were for Church and Family. Football was fine in the evening, but that still meant a morning and afternoon's worth of games missed. Watching some with Tim would be a welcome distraction.
Sharon's knock on the door was more of an afterthought as she walked in and dropped into the couch in the office. Tim closed the lid on his laptop, as if he didn't want her to know he was watching football and not really working on spreadsheets. He didn't bother to hide the bottle of Seagrams and glass of it on his desk.
"Just come on in," he said, "make yourself at home..."
Sharon smiled at the jab. "Thanks," she said, reaching for the glass of whiskey, "I think I will." And proceeded to down it in one gulp and for some reason started talking.
"Tim," she said, "you're right. Something is bugging me."
"What's going on?"
"It's Cathy. She's just, I don't know, too grown up, too wild for me, I guess."
Tim looked serious. "A boy?" he asked.
"A boy. Maybe more than one. Maybe a girl..."
Tim nodded. "Megan, right? I've seen those two together. Very... close, I guess you'd say, but I don't think that means anything. They act like sisters."
Sharon shook her head and poured herself another drink. "Sisters? I can't say I've ever gotten naked and climbed into bed with my sister for a 3some and filmed it. I'm pretty sure that's not normal sister behavior."
Tim's eyes got wide. "Really?! They did that? You know this for a fact? You've seen it?"
Sharon took a more controlled sip. "Yeah, they did it and I know it for a fact and I've seen it."
"Do you know who the boy was?"
Sharon took another sip. "I couldn't tell, I couldn't see his face, but he was black. And big, if you know what I mean."