I really only noticed after a couple of months had passed. I was busy at work, coming home tired.
What I did notice was that Mum would go out every second Friday night very smartly dressed.
She would return home late, sometimes looking a bit dishevelled and always depressed. As this was her only social activity I was concerned.
"Oh" she would say, "just visiting old friends."
Mum had me when she was quite young, so she still had a youthful figure and with her flowing brunette shoulder length hair and deep brown eyes she was sexy and pretty.
One of these old friends had a daughter I lunched with occasionally. We met one lunchtime.
I talked about Mum.
"You don't know?" said Maryanne.
"Know what?" I asked.
"Where she goes on those Fridays."
"See old friends, she says."
"Bit out of it, aren't we?"
"What do you mean?"
"Haven't you noticed? Tight dress, lots of make-up? She goes to a party."
"A party?"
Maryanne lowered her voice, "It's a mother daughter swap party."
I caught my breath, "A -- a what?"
"Mum's swap their daughters for sex."
"Really?"
"Yeah, it's super sexy and fun."
"You've been to one?" I was intrigued.
"Only a couple of times. My mum stopped going after she hurt her leg -- it got a bit, you know, too energetic for her."
"I -- I didn't realise."
"Of course, it's pretty hush-hush. That's probably why your Mum is depressed. No-one to swap with. She's likely to be as horny as hell."
"How do these things work?"
"Mums take their daughters then try to swap them with the mum whose girl they want to fuck."
"Like an auction?" This sounded cruel.
"No, no. The daughters really want to be there. It's all done inside the Mitchell's house with soft carpet, mood lighting -- you mill around talking, checking each other out. Have a drink. There's always plenty of sexy bitches!"
"Mum never said anything to me."
"Probably because she didn't know you would be interested. You're always busy at work. Are you interested?"
"Well, if it can help Mum. I'll do it." I said.
"Tell her you want to be her fuck-slut," said Maryanne with a wink, "She'll know what you mean."
That night at home I prepared to talk to Mum. I waited till she was getting changed for bed so I could catch her in her underwear.
I walked in and sat on the bed. I looked at her; tall and slim with a nice firm figure with good size breasts. Those legs were shapely, too. She still went to the gym occasionally.
I could do this. I was interested. I was wet.
