Mom was looking anxiously again at the clock. Her voice betrayed her agitation when she said, "He should have been here an hour ago."
The "he" she was referring to was my father. He and mom were due to go to his firm's annual dinner tonight, but the timing was not great. Dad had been away on a five week business trip to Australia on behalf of the firm he worked for, UXF. He had only flown back the previous day, but had stayed overnight at a hotel near his office in order to sort out some urgent work issues. So today would be the first time we'd seen him since we'd waved him off five weeks ago in his taxi, accompanied by George, my sister's fiancΓ©, and Miss Jones, who was dad's personal assistant.
Mom had been concerned about Miss Jones when she'd first met her. After all Miss Jones was only a few years older than my sister, had a slim figure and was quite a pretty woman. However, dad had allayed mom's concerns when he'd explained that Miss Jones was in a loving long-term relationship with another woman whom she had met whilst attending one of her bible classes. Nevertheless, as Miss Jones had got into the taxi with dad, I felt mom bristle as the black dress Miss Jones was wearing seemed to make her slimmer than ever and a mauve chiffon scarf seemed to give Miss Jones an alluring look.
We had also not seen George, my sister's fiancΓ©, since the flight had arrived, as he'd had to go straight to see his mother who had just come out of hospital. So when my sister, Angela, saw George this evening at the firm's dinner it was to be a belated reunion. The plan was that Angela or, as my parents called her, Angel, would go with mom and dad in the taxi to the dinner and then afterwards go back with George to their apartment, while mom and dad would return home in a taxi.
We were now all looking at the clock. Mom had dad's tuxedo hanging upstairs ready for him to change into as soon as he came through the door. The booked taxi to take the three of them to the dinner had been and gone. Mom was now saying that I would have to drive them there and drive myself back. This was annoying me intensely as I had planned some vigorous jacking off to some of my favorite porn channels. I had also just found a particular video called Busty Hookers which looked to be excellent jacking material. It had been a shit day anyway considering it was my eighteenth birthday. Mom had been apologetic, promising me that she and dad would make up for it as soon as possible, but my birthday was not being the special day it should have been.
Mom and Angela had been dressed in their evening attire for over an hour. They had been discussing earlier in the day what they should wear. I had been near mom's bedroom door trying and failing to catch a glimpse of some bare flesh or nice panties when I heard my sister saying, "Mom, not having seen George for so long, I've been missing the sex. I can't wait for when we're in our hotel room tonight. I've picked my sexiest underwear. You haven't seen dad for a while either, have you!"
Angela said her last sentence as a joke, but mom took her seriously. I could hear mom take a heavy breath before she replied with a sigh, "Angel, to be honest, your dad and I haven't been getting on too well recently. We haven't had sex for a long time but I'm going to make a real effort for tonight. I've bought some special lingerie that I think he's going to enjoy. I've also been reading some tips from a sex manual. Do you know honey, your dad and I have only had one sex position in all our years of marriage. Your dad has said he's always been content with that, but I'm going to try something new. I feel I need to do something."
Angela's reply showed that she didn't really care if mom and dad were happy together or not. She replied with disdain, "Well George and I have a very satisfactory sex life. In fact I'll have difficulty trying to stop him ripping my dress in his eagerness to take my clothes off."
My mind was going crazy picturing my sister having her clothes ripped off her. I found it difficult to believe that quiet George was a tiger in the bedroom. I was pretty sure any sex with him would be unexciting and dull, even though my sister Angela was a beautiful stacked twenty-five-year old brunette who was one of my greatest fantasies. My other great fantasy was my beautiful forty-five-year old mom who was a mature blond with a voluptuous figure, very big juggs and a big ass. If her waist was not as slim as my sister's, it was not bad.
There was no discussion over the dresses they would wear. Mom always wore her Armani dress for occasions such as this. It appeared perfect when she'd first bought it a few years ago, but her bra size had increased considerably since then and her tits bulged out more than I felt was appropriate. At home I loved seeing mom's melons peeping out the top of her dress, but I would have felt awkward if I was alongside her in public.
My sister almost seemed to have inherited my mom's lack of judgement. Her dress, although not showing so much cleavage, was fairly short and showed off her hourglass figure causing erections to grow at the sight of her. Right now, sitting on the couch, with matching fairly deep red lipstick they both wouldn't have looked out of place on one of my porn channels.
My sister had her legs tightly together and had tried to pull her dress over her knees as I sat down opposite to her. She seemed to think that I had a liking for trying to see her body. She was wrong. It was not a liking, it was an obsession. It was always difficult to catch mom partially dressed but Angela was always in a last minute panic, rushing around, trying to pull her bathrobe around her but not always completely succeeding. Angela was always tetchy with me. I don't think it was solely because she thought I lusted after her, but I suspect that didn't help.
I felt sorry for mom. I knew that her relationship with dad was not easy. He had become more remote from me as well over the last couple of years. The only times when mom seemed happy was when she was performing in her Amateur Theater Group. They weren't professional productions and she didn't get the lead roles, but she loved it.
At last mom picked up the phone and called one of dad's colleagues. I could faintly hear him addressing her as Mrs. Gregg. He appeared to be saying that he'd tried to contact dad but was not getting any response. They had found that a big fraud had been committed against UXF and tomorrow, after the company dinner tonight, they needed to talk to dad urgently to lead the investigation. He gave mom the address of the hotel where dad was staying, but said he couldn't go there himself as he was too tied up in trying to sort out how much the company had lost.
"Right," said mom, "Tom can drive us over to dad's hotel. I'll pick your father's tuxedo up from the bedroom and he can change into it when we find him."
"Why can't you ring for another taxi?" I complained.
Mom was now sounding more crabby, "Because there's no time. Now go and take off that t-shirt and put a proper shirt on. You might meet some of your dad's colleagues."
I stomped up to my room in a huff. I then found the gaudiest shirt I could find. When I arrived back downstairs, mom stamped her foot in frustration at my choice of shirt but, as there was no time, she herded me and Angela quickly out of the door. Herding us was not easy for her as her long tight dress meant she could only walk in small steps.
Initially Angela sat in the front passenger seat, but when she saw me eying her legs, which were exposed by her short dress, she swapped into the back seat, next to dad's tuxedo which was hanging from a hook over the car window, and mom joined me in the front.
It was early evening as we drove, with the roads busy from commuters returning home. I usually enjoyed driving. It was still a new experience for me. In our state the curfew rule means you can drive at night when you are seventeen, but mom hadn't let me drive in the evenings anyway, up till now.
There was a brittle silence as I drove. Mom was feeling bad tempered as her reunion with dad, that was always going to be a bit awkward anyway, would now be even more difficult. Angela was her usual quiet haughty self.