Abbys Dress Ch 05

Again, thank you for your patience. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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"Mom! The dress isn't that short! Don't be so dramatic," Abby shouted out in an exacerbated fashion.

Obviously, Abby wasn't my daughter and she wasn't trying on a dress at the time, but I quickly realized what she was doing in covering for my moan. In fact, I heard a chuckle from outside our door as someone went into the dressing room across from us. Trying to get my wits about me after what was an incredible orgasm, I took Abby's lead and began acting like a flustered mom commenting on her clothing choices.

Our dressing room neighbor had to smell our sex. It certainly permeated our little space. I should have been mortified! I should be telling Abby that we had to stop. At least for now.

Somehow though, it excited me. No. I didn't want to get caught! I didn't even want our dressing room neighbor to even assume we were doing anything other than trying on clothes. My heart raced.

I could hear the movement of the woman in the dressing cubicle across from us. The plastic of the hangars hitting the hooks, the sound of a zipper and shoes hitting the floor. Abby placed her hands on my shoulders and turned me around the room so that I had the small bench beneath me. Pushing me gently down she continued the charade by saying, "Sit down mom. What do you think of this set," as she unbuttoned her shirt dress and exposed her breasts, her puffy areolas and nips looking inflamed.

"Oh, honey, that's much better than the other blouses," doing my best to act my part even though my mouth was watering.

Abby leaned down and placing a hand on the back of my head, pulled my mouth and lips to her left breast as she said a little too overdramatically, "I'm glad you like it, mom."

I enjoyed the feeling of her nipple between my lips, the feeling of her warm and very firm breasts as I put my hands on both.

The sound of the woman coming out of the other dressing cubicle made me tense up, but I didn't remove my lips from Abby's breast. Abby gently held my head down as we listened to the woman exit the dressing area.

Abby's dress was now at her ankles. Totally nude now, she pushed my head down to be even with her clean-shaven pussy and whispered, "we don't have much time and I am dripping."

And she was dripping!

I bent my head down just a little bit more and placed my tongue right at her hole, her sweet juice literally dripping onto it. I pushed my tongue in as she lifted one foot and put it on the bench spreading her pussy even more. As before, I felt like an addict getting a fix. How did this come to be??

Abby urged me to put my fingers in her pussy. "I don't care how many, just put your fingers in me. Fill me" she urgently whispered. I moved my mouth to her clit and pushed two fingers inside her.

"All the way" "Push" "Fuck me, hard" "Hard" she breathlessly whispered.

Moving my fingers in and out of her caused her to move her hips as if she wanted me even deeper, but fingers are only so long, but I could feel the walls of her pussy tightening. If anyone came in to the dressing area now, they would hear the squishing of her pussy as my fingers rammed into her. Now I added a third. When I did, she pulled my head so tightly to her that I could no longer lick her clit so I simply sucked it into my mouth as if I were sipping a think milkshake through a straw. She went rigid.

I don't know how long we were in that position when she came, but I felt as if I was going to suffocate as she held my head down against her meaty lips, my fingers deep inside her. I was no longer pushing my fingers, but just wiggling the tips as much as I could. I couldn't hear a thing. Did she scream? Did she moan? Was there any sound? Was someone going to rush in? Time stood still.

And then she released my head.

I slowly removed my fingers from her pussy and took deep breaths trying to get some air. I looked up at her and found her looking down at me, her chest heaving as she recovered from her orgasm. She turned her head toward the door and I turned as well to see what got her attention. The mirror. I was looking straight at my reflection, face covered in Abby's juices. My hand still held up and totally wet with her stickiness. And I raised my eyes looking at her in the mirror, her beautiful breasts moving with each breath she took. She pulled me up, both of us still fixed on our reflections.

As we looked at ourselves in the mirror in total silence, she stuck her tongue out and actually licked my cheek. I started to turn, and she kept licking my cheeks, my chin, my lips, all of her juices. Our lips met in a wondrous, passionate kiss.

I broke the kiss only to say, "Abby, we need to leave."

"I know" she said in disappointment.

We got our clothes on and cleaned up the best we could with the tissues from my purse. My panties were so soaked that I didn't bother putting them back on, so they went into my purse with all the wet tissue. Gathering up the clothes that were never tried on we noticed that we made a mess of the ones on the bench. Actually, we made a mess of the bench! And we both noticed wet spots on our own clothing, but there wasn't much we could do, but hope it wasn't noticed.

We left the dressing room area and thankfully those browsing through clothes were occupied doing just that. Surprisingly, Abby purchased what she brought into the dressing room saying that she can make returns if the clothes don't fit.

We did remember to pick up Linda's packages on the way out, but we were both quiet. I was contemplating so many questions within my mind, not the least of which was how I got an insatiable need for this teenager. Why was my body responding to the thought of her touch, of touching her? How could I even allow this to happen? As we drove out of the mall parking lot one other question came to mind. How did Abby get so sexually mature at her age? Not in the birds and bees type way, but in how she pretty much seduced me to the point that I was having sex with her in a public dressing room! She knew what she was doing.

I felt Abby's hand on my thigh. "Mrs. G, we never got you a dress like mine."

Glancing over I saw a mischievous smile and replied, "I guess another shopping trip is in order."

"But, Mom, you always criticize my clothing choices" she snickered, mocking our little role play in the dressing room.

She squeezed my leg saying, "It is fun shopping with you, Mrs. G."

If a 40-year-old can blush, I probably did.

Back on the court I dropped Abby at her house. She thanked me and gave me a peck on the cheek as she got out of the car and grabbed her bags. I wanted to say something about what had happened. Again! I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Pulling into my driveway I realized that I was hungry. I don't even know how long we were in the dressing room! I washed up, changed into comfy sweats and tee and made a big salad for lunch. And yes, I did put fresh panties on and made sure to clean out my purse! Frank had texted that he was having lunch at the club, which is always the case. I'm sure he was having some alcoholic beverage, too.

After lunch I decided to relax on the couch with a magazine. Thoughts of the morning, though, continued running through my brain. I was feeling like a smitten schoolgirl, but I was a 40-year-old housewife and mother! And the person who was on my mind was a girl! A woman! Was it the simple act of trying on Abby's dress that re-wired my brain? Did it start at that point? So many thoughts as I dozed on my couch.

I was jarred from my light sleep when I heard my front door. Thought it odd that Frank would come in that way. He always came in from the yard after golf.

I heard my name being called out. It was Linda. She walked in as I quickly sat up.

"Oh Brenda, I'm sorry. Didn't know you were napping".

"I didn't realize it myself," I replied.

"Did Abby tire you out that much," Linda asked, causing me to choke once again in her presence.

"Well, Linda, your daughter does know how to lick my pussy until I have a mind-altering orgasm which can tire me out, but I am ready for another" is what I thought with a smile.

What I actually said was, "Oh Abby was wonderful and so appreciative" "Did you see what she bought?"

"Not yet. Scott took her and her brother out to a late lunch and I could do without food today."

"How about a cup of tea" I offered.

"If you have that ginger tea, I'm in" she said as we walked toward the kitchen.

Linda sat at the breakfast bar as I put the kettle on the stove. "You must really rate, Brenda" she remarked.

"Oh?" was all I could come up with.

Linda continued, "Abby told me that you helped with her choices; something she always fights me on."

"You know how teen girls are. We spend years trying to figure them out" was my deflection.

"You're right, Brenda" "I guess I felt a little jealous."

I could see a little pout on her face and walked over to her, put my arms around her from behind and gave her a hug. She pulled my arms and hands into her and made sure that I was pulled close to her.

The two of us had never been shy with touch, with hugs, even the occasional kiss, so there was nothing unusual with our closeness at this moment. We've been close for all the years of being friends and supporting each other watching our daughters growing up to become young women.

What was different was the warmness I was feeling and the awareness of the feel of her breasts as she held my hands against them. The smell of her hair. Whoa! Why am I thinking this way all of a sudden!

While still holding on to me she said, "I don't know why I'm being emotional about this, but I know you understand."

I found myself holding her tighter and then the tea kettle whistled. The shrill noise did break the moment we were having, although the 'moment' was probably just in my mind. We both broke from our hug as I went to turn off the burner and pour the water for our tea. Both of us were quiet until I sat across from her with our teas. I wasn't sure what to say and felt some tenseness in the air. For me, it was the thoughts that just went through my head while hugging her. I assumed she was still hurt that Abby asked me for clothing advice instead of her, although I knew that the only advice Abby wanted was how fast to get out of her clothes! And she really didn't need advice there!

"You know, Linda," I said, breaking the quiet, "I think this girls' weekend is coming at the perfect time for all of us." "After all, I think the stress of our girls graduating and the added stress of them leaving us soon, we could really use a weekend."

"You're right, Brenda," she replied. "I'm overthinking things a bit too much."

In my head all I thought was the amount I was overthinking!

As we discussed the arrangements for our weekend, I observed Linda as she got up to get more tea. She had on a button down light blue blouse, tan cotton skirt, just below the knees and stylish flats. She had always been a somewhat conservative dresser, preferring looser clothing that covered her up. We were around the same height, but no doubt her body wasn't as firm as I like to think mine was. She had admitted many times that she needed to do more to get what she called the rolls off her ass and midsection. And really, she didn't give herself credit. Linda was quite attractive. But why was I looking at her in this fashion now? And why was I thinking of the softness of her breasts that I sorta just had my hands on?

"If we are sleeping together, I do hope our bed is at least queen size," Linda said as she came back to the table.

I hoped my double-take wasn't obvious as my thoughts turned back to our get-a-way. I did explain that there were two queen-sized beds and a sitting room. We talked about making sure we had pool time, shopping and whether to arrange spa time, as well. During our conversation we agreed that we may need to extend our trip or at least leave early on that Friday.

At some point, Linda got quiet as if in thought. Looking at me, she blurted, "Do you think Abby and Stacy have experimented?"

There was no doubt in my mind as to what she was referring, but I still questioned, "Experimented?"

"Brenda" she said in exasperation. "You know, the girl-on-girl stuff."

Now I was shocked! Not at her question, but at the realization that I never considered that possibility. How could I not think that my daughter and Abby might be fucking? The immense pleasure that Abby knew how to give me had to have come from doing it with someone.

I must have shown some expression because Linda went on, "Come on, Brenda, that sort of thing shouldn't shock either of us and you know Abby and Stacy do everything together."

"Linda, you have a point, but what, may I ask, made you bring this up now?" I asked while my mind was spinning.

She explained that the trip planning and sleeping arrangements got her thinking. Her first thought was that she and Abby would be in one bed and that Stacy and I would be in the other. Then she considered that the girls would want to be together which led her to thoughts of their relationship. It was true, each of our daughters had boys who were friends, but never really ones who could truly be defined as boyfriends. Their prom dates were really a bunch of girls and some guys going together. I looked at it as the generation and time we were in. None of the girls in our daughters' circle seemed to be in a hurry for serious relationships, be it with a guy or girl.

"What do you think, Linda," I asked. "And what if they did experiment, so what."

At that point, my husband walked in from the yard. "Hey ladies, did I interrupt?" If he only knew!

"Oh, we're just talking about our getaway." "Have a good game."

"I did, thanks, but I need a shower." With that he walked out of the kitchen on his way upstairs.

Linda got up to leave and looked at me saying, "there's nothing wrong with experimenting" "our daughters are great girls". And she went on with emphasis, "and they know what they're doing."

I got up to walk Linda to the door saying, "We can be proud of our girls because we've taught them to make the right choices."

Stopping at the door Linda put her arms around my waist and her head on my shoulder, hugging me tightly. With my arms around her I was quite aware of our bodies, her breasts against mine, her smell and her warmth. "Brenda, you're the best."

Disengaging, I replied, "We're friends for a reason, Linda, and we are here for each other." And I meant it.

As I walked back to the kitchen, I realized that I was quite turned on. I thought of Frank in the shower. He would be pleasantly surprised if I joined him for some afternoon sex. But thoughts of the dressing room with Abby came to mind making me smile. And thoughts of Linda. Again, what was happening to me? I should be thinking of my husband!

Hearing the front door slam all thoughts were forgotten.

"Mom" I heard Stacy call out even as she walked into the kitchen.

"What's the matter, honey", I asked.

"Mr. Dranito says he has to cut my days for the next couple of weeks" "Something about his accounting and quarterly payroll" she moped.

"Honey, it's a part-time job" "Nothing to get upset about" I replied.

"But I had a goal of what to save for the Fall" she pouted.

Trying to get her to smile, I joked, "maybe you should make money doing TikTok vids."

She laughed and said, "Abby and I have done plenty of those and it's gotten us nothing."

I put on my stern motherly look and told her that I had hoped she realizes that the internet is forever.

"Oh mom, we're not doing any nasty stuff" she said still laughing.

So, tension was broken, but my thought went to Abby and nasty stuff...

The next couple of days were uneventful. Stacy and Abby were always doing something, but not at my house. Linda and I were on the phone or texting about the coming weekend and what we needed or what we were wearing. I was looking forward to it, but also with a bit of trepidation. What was it going to be like with Abby so close for a couple of nights? And what about Linda? Our families have gone away together in the past, but never in the same room, much less the same bed.

On Wednesday Stacy was called to work for the morning shift. Ironically, she bitched about it because she and Abby had plans. I reminded her that she wanted hours so she shouldn't complain. After all, she and Abby were together every day!

On her way out the door Stacy informed me that Abby was stopping by to pick up her extra phone charger and that she left it on the kitchen counter. My heart jumped. I was alone. It was only 9:30 in the morning and I didn't know when Abby would be stopping by, but I was now full of nervous and anticipatory energy.

Was anything going to happen? Would I initiate something? Or would Abby? After tidying the kitchen, I went upstairs and made my bed. Then I found myself brushing my hair, putting a little bit of make-up on and even a spray of perfume. This is something I would never, ever do during a typical weekday. Going through my closet for something to wear, I looked at my silky robe. More like polyester and rayon, but silky nonetheless. Why not! I stripped myself completely and put the robe on. I shuddered a bit from the coolness of the fabric, but also from the anticipation of what wearing it meant at that moment. Again, what was a doing??

The robe was a turquoise color with a darker hue fringe around the neck and shoulders. I remembered when I bought it with my husband in mind. And now, here I was putting it on with an 18-year-old girl on my mind. Looking in my mirror I felt like I was looking at the stereotypical suburban housewife getting ready to seduce a pool boy. I chuckled at that thought.

Standing there I thought of ways I could greet Abby. Do I stay get in my bed and call her upstairs? Do I lounge on my living room sofa so she sees me as soon as she walks in? Do I wait by the door? Of course, all of this was silly. I shouldn't be doing this!!

The doorbell rang. Stacy must have closed and locked the front door when she left. Well, whatever method I had to greet Abby was replaced with simply answering the door! As I walked down the stairs, I felt nervous. Of course, I was still questioning my actions. I was having an affair! With an 18-year-old! A girl!

I glanced out the window to make sure that it was Abby. My heart jumped when I saw her standing there and I quickly opened the door, making sure to stand off to the side so none of my neighbors got a view.

Abby, wearing loose gym shorts, a tank top with a torn tee short over it, walked in, closed the door and stood there looking at me.

"Wow, Mrs. G, you look so sexy in that!"

"Abby" I began. Before I could say another word, her lips were on mine. Her hands on either side of my face.

I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her tightly against me. Our kiss was not tender. It was as if we were attacking each other, our lips pressing almost violently against each other's, our tongues pushing and twisting trying not to lose contact with the other. Muffled, throaty words were coming from each of us simultaneously while neither of us stopped the wrestling of our lips and tongues. "Need this" "couldn't wait" "oh fuck" "don't stop" urgently spoken.

As this was going on, Abby's hands moved from my face down to my shoulders and I felt my robe being pulled away from them. I took my hands away from her waist to quickly untie the thin sash holding my robe closed and then allowed the material to slip off my arms and down to the floor. I was completely naked. Abby stepped back looking at me. Both of us were breathing heavily with no words spoken at this moment, our eyes locked on one another. She clasped the bottoms of her shirts and pulled both over her head at once. She pushed her shorts down over her hips, let them fall to her ankles and kicked off her sandals and shorts.