The Colonial House

Freshly showered and standing in front of the dresser, Erica was having more trouble deciding what to wear than her small number of choices justified. After all, there was just one night left before they headed home tomorrow. The problem was the thoughts she was having--or, more precisely, who she was having them about. Standing in front of the mirror in just her panties, she thought of Chris, knowing he'd love the pair of short shorts and tank top she'd already laid out. Just before she started to dress, it crossed her mind that Mrs. P would probably appreciate all the leg on display too. The thought caught her off guard.

"Where did that come from?" she wondered to herself.

Looking in the mirror, she quickly realized there was no answer that would satisfy her. The daydreams, the thoughts--it all pointed to one thing.

"I'm bi!" Erica chuckled to herself.

With a last look in the mirror, she admired how sexy the lacy panties looked. Shrugging her shoulders, she pushed them off her hips, leaving them piled in the corner. She pulled the short shorts up her smooth legs, tugging them tight over her hips and snugly against her folds.

"I bet the Parks like this even better than the lace," she told her reflection.

Pulling the tank top over her head, she smoothed it down her sides--short enough to leave her belly uncovered. The tightly stretched cotton hugged the curves of her breasts, her nipples just barely noticeable. A light brush with the palm of her hand made them much more prominent. Smiling at what she saw in the mirror, she felt curious about what the evening might bring.

Mr. P had the grill fired up, cooking everything from seafood to steaks, by the time she made it outside. The large porch overlooked the beach, empty except for a few scattered chairs left by sunbathers earlier in the day. At a large round table off to the side, Chris and his brother had already taken seats on either side. Both sets of eyes locked onto Erica as she stepped out of the house. She couldn't help but blush as their gazes wandered over her. The cool breeze off the lake teased her barely covered pussy, reminding her she'd chosen to skip panties for dinner.

Conversation drifted from school to summer social gatherings while Mr. P finished bringing the food from the grill. Mrs. P sat down next to Erica, opposite Chris, leaving not an inch to wiggle side to side between the two of them. Before they even started eating, Chris's hand had found Erica's thigh under the table. Running along the smooth skin inside her left leg, it sent shivers through her, making it harder to focus on the conversation. Coherent answers slipped away, replaced by nervous chuckles and short replies. Maybe skipping the panties had been a mistake, she thought.

When a second hand brushed her right leg, her heart stopped. She froze mid-bite, the next piece of salmon trembling on her fork just inches from her face until the brief contact slipped away. Breathing deeply, she deliberately moved that bite to her lips and swallowed, the butterflies in her stomach intensifying. Erica's mind raced with excitement. One thing was certain: she'd enjoyed that brief touch and wanted to encourage another. Keeping her left leg still where Chris's hand continued caressing, she parted her right leg, easing it toward Mrs. P. Her stomach fluttered at what she was about to do, inching her leg closer until it finally brushed the smooth, warm skin of Mrs. P's leg. As they touched, she flashed the slightest glance, catching Mrs. P's eyes for just an instant--a connection that, in one motion, changed their relationship for good.

That knowing glance seemed to relax the mood around the table. All at once, the tension eased, and the excitement heightened. The door had been opened; Erica and Mrs. P were on the same page. Their mutual desire had been acknowledged. Smiling to herself, Erica noted that Chris was still completely in the dark--and that definitely wasn't going to change. Edging forward on the bench until her chest nearly touched the tabletop, she allowed the mother and son to draw her legs a little wider. Only Erica knew the full extent of it--that her thighs were being sensually caressed by wandering hands. Dinner had never been so pleasant.

The differences in their attention were subtle. Chris's hand slipped higher and higher, while Mrs. P seemed content mid-thigh. Chris used the pads of his fingers in long, gentle strokes; Mrs. P favored her nails, tracing soft little circles. Both kept a steady stream of shivers running through her. Chris was the first to discover her secret, his fingers brushing close enough to touch her excited lips. Erica fought the urge to clamp her legs together--trapping their hands under the table would definitely be a bad idea. She bit her lip as she turned to Chris pleadingly. She wanted the attention to continue so badly, yet worried she wouldn't be able to hold back her reactions.

With her legs still spread for him, Chris assumed the only thing he could: Erica was giving him the green light to keep going. His own raging erection kept him trapped at the table, but hunger for another serving never crossed his mind. As much as he tried, though, he couldn't quite get his fingers into a position to move closer. All the while, unbeknownst to him, Mrs. P quietly continued caressing Erica's other leg.

As dinner wrapped up, Mrs. P reluctantly released Erica's leg. Chris, still too aroused to stand, was relieved at his mom's suggestion that the girls handle cleanup since the boys had done all the cooking. He needed every excuse to stay seated and let the excitement of dinner settle. The dishes went quickly, most being disposable. Their hands often found each other's in the sudsy water. Through the window, they could see Mr. P and his two sons laughing over some conversation, the sounds barely audible through the screen door on the opposite end of the room. Just as Erica was getting comfortable with the touching in the sink, Mrs. P's voice startled her.

"It's been a pretty adventurous weekend for you so far, huh?"

Erica's eyes quickly locked onto Mrs. P's, searching them for the meaning behind her words. She surely wasn't referring to the unique BBQ flavors or being cooped up in the backseat of the car. Could she know about the orgasm on the beach or the fucking in the bathroom? Erica bit her lip absently as mental images flooded back--watching Chris's parents having sex, the sounds, the fact that she'd masturbated to it all, and, to top it off, had been caught. Clearly, this was what Mrs. P meant, and the soapy finger tracing along Erica's arm, sending shivers across her skin, left little room for misinterpretation.

"Uh-huh..." was all Erica could muster in reply.

"It was a little awkward to reach much higher under the table outside," Mrs. P whispered.

Erica stood barely moving, barely breathing, as Mrs. P slipped behind her. Feeling Mrs. P's hips press gently against her own, Erica realized their hands were no longer together in the sink. Instead, they'd found their way back to her thighs. Stretching downward as they looked out the window together, the hands moved up the backs of her legs, pulling gently at the ragged ends of her shorts and grinding the crotch against her naked pussy. Unable to stifle a gasp and a long, deep breath, Erica's fingers clenched the edges of the sink.

"It's a little easier now, isn't it?" Mrs. P asked as her fingers traced the edge of the denim shorts, finding what Chris had discovered only minutes earlier.

Erica nodded slowly, staring through the window as if watching the boys, but her attention was undivided, focused entirely on the fingers between her legs. She rocked her hips ever so slightly as the fingers teased her folds, rubbing them in circles, each pass gently pulling her swollen lips open. There was no warning when the fingers suddenly slipped upward, burying themselves in her pussy and grinding her against the edge of the counter. Lifted onto her toes, Erica gasped. The fingers swirled deep, expertly catching her G-spot with each motion.

"Everything okay?" Mrs. P whispered in her ear.

Erica heard the words but struggled to form a response. With soapy hands grasping the sides of the sink, she managed a slow nod and a low moan. Mrs. P's fingers moved expertly, knowingly driving her closer to orgasm as Erica fought to maintain control. She held her breath steady until her knees weakened, forcing her legs to support her as she realized her moans were growing louder. Control was slipping away. Whimpering through clenched teeth as the orgasm trembled through her, she relied on Mrs. P to keep her upright at the sink until she regained her balance.

"Mmm, dessert," Mrs. P murmured.

Erica glanced to the side just in time to see Mrs. P slip out the door, licking her fingers.

Looking out the window at the Park family around the table, Erica wasn't sure what she'd gotten herself into. Her gaze shifted from Chris to his mom, uncertain who she wanted more at that moment. Then to Mr. P--he sure could do a number on Mrs. P. She tried to shake the thought, but it kept creeping back. She'd be across the hall from another night of thumping beds and loud moaning tonight. This time, Erica thought, she'd almost certainly be welcome to join in the fun.

Smoothing the front of her shorts as she pulled herself together, she wasn't quite sure what the next few hours would bring.