It had been over an hour since their phone call. Catherine's ex-husband lived and worked in the next town which was little more than fifteen minutes away. But as soon as she heard his voice, as soon as she realised Mary was still with him, she had known that this was where she was going. She had tried so hard to stay away from him all these years. Not because he was cruel or unfaithful but because she knew she loved him so much that she would do anything for him. And he knew exactly how to push her to her limits.
As soon as she had decided she was going to do this, the next question was what she was going to wear, and what underwear she was going to put on. Not that she thought for one moment that he would be seeing her underwear, but he had taught her to feel good under her clothes, to feel good in her own skin, even if no one else knew how sexy she looked underneath.
Deciding to choose what she knew would be appealing to him (even though she was still fooling herself that he would never see them), she selected a black quarter cup bra, the matching suspender belt and black seamed stockings. Just for a moment she thought about not wearing any panties but reminded herself that her ex-husband liked her to look sexy, not slutty. So, with just a hint of regret, she slid tiny black thong that matched the rest of her ensemble up her smooth legs. Looking at herself in the full-length mirror, she was still unable to see why he had been seduced by her body all those years ago and doubted if he would still feel the same. Her breasts were still quite firm with only the slightest sag to show for the passing years, she admitted to herself, and she had always loved the way this bra freed her nipples to rub against her blouse. For however long she kept it on, or was allowed to keep it on, she knew they would be stimulated every time she moved. Rolling her stockings up her logs before attaching them to each of the straps hanging from her suspender belt, she wondered once again what it was that most men saw so sexy in stockings, but she knew that her ex-husband was certainly one of them. If she was honest with herself, she found them more than a little naughty too, especially when no-one else ever knew. Would that be the case today?
As she had rolled the silk stockings up her legs, over her newly-shaven, soft, smooth skin, she smiled to herself as if she had just remembered that it wasn't just her legs she had shaved in the bath. Her pussy was just as soft and smooth, and she momentarily slipped one hand under the tiny thong, allowing a single long finger to penetrate her smooth slit and brush against her clit. It responded immediately to her touch as her whole body trembled, wanting more. But she resisted, telling herself she had no time to waste especially as he would be waiting.
Now as she stood outside his door, as nervous as she had been on their first date, she wondered what this meeting would bring. She wondered why Mary was still here. She wondered if her ex-husband had charmed their daughter just as he had charmed her all those years ago. But that was different, surely.
When she finally plucked up the courage to ring the bell, the door was buzzed open and she made her way into the studio. When she saw her ex-husband standing before her wearing nothing but a short silk robe she was surprised. "That's hardly appropriate," she thought.
When she saw Mary sitting a few feet away in an even shorter robe, she was shocked.
"What on earth is going on here?"
"You might well ask. Since you didn't see fit to warn me that Mary was visiting today, events overtook us and we've spent the kind of day that older men and younger, beautiful girls often spend."
"You mean?" she stuttered, incredulously, suddenly spying the pile of photos on his desk, photos that showed Mary in all sorts of suggestive poses; photos that showed Mary as naked as the day she was born; photos that showed Mary and her father doing the kind of things that no young woman should ever be doing with her father.
"You monster! What have you done? You're..."
"My lover," finished Mary defiantly.
She and her father had had a long conversation since he had finally discovered who she really was. At first, he was incredibly angry with her, shocked beyond belief. She had felt so ashamed, not of the things they had done, but that she had tricked him and deceived him. She had explained that she had only wanted to have him in her life again and she had begged him to not to leave her again. It had been her life-long dream that they would all be a family again one day.
Eventually her father's anger had receded, and he had promised her that he would never abandon her again. But as he began to think clearly a plan had begun to develop in his mind and he had explained to her why she and her mother had originally split up. And what they should do about it now.
It was more than Mary could ever have hoped for in her wildest dreams and she was delighted to play her part. This was step one. She waited for her father to take control before he invited her to join in.
There was an awkward silence as Catherine realised what her daughter's words meant. She had seen the evidence of the photos, but she had hoped that she would be able to stop this before it went any further. But it was obvious that Mary had known all along who she was fucking, and she obviously had no intention of stopping.
What the older woman had to ask herself was, did she want to protect her daughter from the pitfalls of an incestuous relationship or did she simply want her ex-husband for herself? Her fantasies of giving herself to him once again were to the fore and she suddenly felt light-headed and thought she was about to faint.
While her mind was still in a whirl, he took charge.
He stood immediately behind her and softly said, "You took a long time to get here, Catherine. You smell delicious. Did you have a bath before you rushed to our daughter's rescue?"
She gasped but she didn't move away from him. All she could do was whisper, "Yes," in reply. She felt that he was stripping her of all her pretences and that he knew exactly why she was there.
"You could have simply spoken to Mary on the phone and told her to come home. Couldn't you?"
"Yes."
"You wanted to see me again, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"And you chose that outfit because you knew that was one of my favourites, and you hoped I would still find you sexy. Didn't you?"
While her mother simply nodded in assent, it was Mary's turn to gasp because her mother was wearing an almost identical business suit to the one her father had dressed her in earlier. She looked at her mother who stood before her with her head hung low but she couldn't really tell if her mother was wearing something similar underneath. All she could tell was that the older woman's nipples were almost poking through her silk blouse and she wondered if her mother was even wearing a bra. Was she wearing panties? Was her mother secretly a slut? She was about to find out.
"And you're wearing my favourite kind of silk stockings, sheer, almost black. Did you shave your legs to make them smooth enough to slide your stockings over?"
"Yes." Catherine's head seemed to lower further with every question. She could feel her face burning red with embarrassment at having to answer these questions in front of her daughter. But Mary knew exactly what her father was doing. He was quizzing her mother just as he had quizzed her earlier and she wondered just how far she would push her only female relative.
