Chapter 05
John plays with mother and daughter
"We don't have to wear these silly outfits while he's out do we?" Sabrina complained.
"That's what he said," Jane shrugged, as though it didn't matter.
As soon as he got up he told them to wear the French maid's uniforms, which they did, just to keep him happy. John had gone home to pick up some clothes and CD's, leaving them alone for the first time in a few days. Being painfully aware of how much they depended on him, they were pensive during his absence.
It would be a few hours before they became so sex-up they couldn't think straight, and become sex fiends, as Sabrina inelegantly put it. Jane didn't need her daughter reminding her what might happen if he didn't get back in time. Needing sex so badly she lost control was worse than a drug addiction.
She wondered about going out to find someone to satisfy the craving, instead of using her daughter's boyfriend. The thought of trawling the bars for a stranger to fuck was too awful to contemplate. Even thinking the word, 'fuck', rather than an acceptable euphemism had become a habit, as that is exactly what they were doing.
She wasn't making love, she was fucking her daughter's boyfriend. They both were, and over the last few days it had become acceptable. What wasn't expected was that he was becoming demanding. Hence the fancy dress.
"Do you know what get-up he's planned for this evening?" Sabrina asked, breaking into her mother's contemplation.
"No. Have you been into his room?" Jane asked, sounding cross. "You shouldn't go in there. You should do as you're told," Jane rounded on her in exasperation.
"You mean I should do as HE tells me, like you do," Sabrina countered.
"You can do what you like, but don't upset him," Jane warned her daughter. 'For me', she was about to say, but couldn't continue. Her daughter was staring at her, knowing exactly what she meant.
"I shouldn't upset my boyfriend in case he decides not to fuck my mother? That's what you mean, isn't it!" Sabrina growled.
"Alright, that's how it is. Accept it. Just give it a few more days. It can't go on much longer," Jane hoped.
The growing animosity was cut short by a knock at the door. "Damn! What do we do now? He must have heard us. Why doesn't he just leave the package?" Sabrina moaned.
"He's waiting for a signature and a tip. He probably doesn't want to make another journey," Jane surmised.
"It'll take ages changing out of all this stuff. A coat won't cover the petticoats. They stick out like a stupid tutu," Sabrina pointed out.
Jane sighed in resignation. They could wait it out, but she decided to try something.
"You can't go to the door like that!" Sabrina scolded her mother. She pressed up against the wall, with a discreet view of the door.
"Can I help you," Jane stated, speaking with as much assurance as she could muster, though wearing a daring French maids costume inhibited her usual authoritative manner. The man was around her age. Not strikingly handsome and hardly acceptable, though better than expected for a delivery guy.
He stared at her. Of course he did. The petticoats held up the hem of the dress showing off a pair of long shapely legs encased in sheer stockings, held tight by suspender straps. Her inflated breasts were balancing on top of the dress like party jellies, wobbling perilously close to overflowing.
"Would you like me to sign for that?" Jane prompted.
The man nodded, and handed over the package, pen, and clipboard. Juggling them in her arms she bent to drop the package onto the floor. Seeing him look over her shoulder, she realised he had a clear view in the mirror behind her. The dirty look on his face was annoying.
She signed the clipboard against John's name, wondering what he had bought.
"Do you like the outfit?" she said with a big smile. Of course he did, and showed it by nodding vigorously.
"It's for a charity event. I'm selling kisses for a dollar, would you like to be the first?" she brazenly asked.
"Yea! Sure," he spoke, revealing he wasn't a mute after all.
He rummaged around in a pocket where he kept a hoard of tips. Careful not to reveal how much he was carrying, he presented a dollar. He wiped wet lips on the back of his hand and moved in.
The smell of stale tobacco was awful. She felt an arm encircle her slim waist, which was pinched tight by a corset. He meant to have value for money. Their lips touched, which was enough, but he put a hand on the back of her head. She opened her mouth to complain, only realising the stupidity when a tongue invaded her mouth.
It was sickening. He kept a tight grip on her, until coming up for breath. She levered his arm away and stepped back. Wanting to spit, though instead she wiped her lips as he had. He looked at her eagerly, while rummaging around for another dollar.
"That's quite enough, thank you," Jane firmly told him, and thrust the clipboard and pen at him.
Too much in a fluster to think about kicking the package inside, she instead bent to pick it up. It didn't matter that he was ogling her transparent panties in the mirror. Quickly closing the door on his look of disappointment was satisfying.
"What was that all about?" Sabrina demanded to know.
Jane stood still wondering about what didn't happen. She hadn't been excited by the close encounter in the slightest.
"You were teasing him. I thought you were going to drag him in here," Sabrina scolded her mother.
"If you thought I was carried away with lust you didn't bother coming to my rescue," Jane pointed out.
"I couldn't go to the door dressed like this!" Sabrina retaliated.
"Fortunately you didn't need to, which is more to the point," Jane grimaced. "I wasn't interested in the slightest. He wasn't the right material, but then again neither is John, for me I mean. I was repulsed, not interested in the least!" she grimaced again.
"So you were testing yourself. Oh! Shit! Do you think its wearing off? Say it is, please," Sabrina whined.
