Jim

Chapter 6 - Consequences

"You know it's true, Mother."

It wasn't that Jill couldn't speak, it was more that she was rifling through the Psychological Health issues in her brain, searching for a response, and weighing the potential answers to each.

Amy had accused her of being an exhibitionist, which she could handle, heck, even readily admit to, but this - a Cuckquean - how the heck did she even know what that word was? Sure, she admitted to enjoying her sex life with Jim, and occasionally being very submissive. Sure, the occasional kink and fetish did play an occasional role, and occasionally she got off on watching Jim pleasure another woman, but...she realized she was using the word "occasionally" in her brain way too often.

Amy's words interrupted her thoughts. "Just acknowledge it, Mother, and be honest with both you and me. I've been researching it, you know. You're not the only one who can read psychological journals." Jill looked up at her, still without any words. This was very atypical for the experienced psychologist, able to handle any twist or turn a patient gave her at any time.

Amy continued, nonchalantly "At first, I was pissed off at you, with Scott. You KNEW he's my boyfriend, yet you've been screwing him behind my back this entire time? Didn't make sense. Not my prim and proper mother. Besides, it was the WAY in which you took him while I watched that mattered. THAT'S what gave you away, Mother. It was your exhibitionist daring me to look. I knew the water was deeper somewhere, and it turns out, I've been right all along, haven't I? Doesn't matter, I know how I felt when I saw you two together, so I've hardly the right to complain, now do I?"

Jill's silence said more than any words she could have uttered. "It's more than just exhibitionism, Mother. More than just drawing someone into your fantasy, and having them watch, isn't it? You placed me in a role of authority to either stop your actions, or feed your fantasy when I didn't. I realized that they may have been my lessons, mother, but it's been YOUR fetish, hasn't it? So naughty."

It didn't help that Jill's head ached from the alcohol last night. It certainly didn't help that when she and Amy returned to the party, Amy made a point of flirting with both Scott AND her father, directly in front of her. Her boy shorts and T-shirt had been removed, and Amy was now flaunting a LOT of skin in her bikini, both top and bottom hugging her form tight. Jill suspected that Amy had found her way into some alcohol, but that had happened before. No, this was something else.

"I confirmed it, Mom, when you watched me with Scott and Dad last night. You saw how flirty I was, didn't you? Just admit it, Mom, you loved it. I know that both of these are men are important in your life, aren't they? Scott is one thing, but what we've been doing with Dad, well, now isn't that even more interesting?"

It also didn't help that Jill was late. Yeah, THAT kind of late. It may have explained her upset stomach, but with the other kids, she would have already been puking, so this wasn't typical at all. She knew her breasts were swollen, achy, itchy, but with the intensity of her recent sexual experiences, well, just maybe. I don't know, she thought. Maybe not. Now was not the time to be considering it, anyways.

"Something else on your mind, Mother?" Jill's head snapped back to the reality of Amy in front of her. Dressed only in a white, low-cut satin gown, her breasts were held captive in a black bra, pushing them up and out. She wore puffy, white slippers, and what looked at a glance to be a set of black G-string panties. Jill sat at the table. Half achy, half aroused, half hung-over. She realized that Amy, now standing in front of her, smelled different? What was that perfume? It reminded her of something, but she couldn't quite place it. Funny, because smells are usually such good triggers. Amy's hair was pulled back in a long pony-tail, her fingernails painted deep red, to match her toenails, and she wore a set of short, dangly earrings. "Amy, are those my earrings?" The words came out with the visual realization.

"I'm borrowing them, Mother, if you don't mind. Do you?"

"Uh, no. That's fine. Just maybe, please ask next time, o.k.?"

"I'm going to be borrowing a few more of your things, Mom, if that's o.k." and Amy moved directly in front of Jill. "For one, this lipstick is to die for. Jill watched as Amy rolled back the tube, exposing the dark burgundy wax. "Hang on, need a mirror." Amy stood and walked to the refrigerator, directly to Jill's right. Hanging on the top freezer door was a small, oblong mirror that they both used. Jill arched her head back, applying the rich cream to her lips, and alternated between watching her lips and watching Jill watching her. She stopped and smiled. Jill was staring at her in the mirror. Her stare did not give away the uneasiness in her groin.

"Nice, right Mom? Does Dad like this?" Amy capped the tube, and set it on the table next to Jill. She moved behind Jill's back, her hands on her mother's shoulder. "I'll bet he does. Anyway, I feel the need to prove my point to you, Mother." Amy's hands slowly massaged Jill's shoulders as her mother's hands, on top of the table, held the warm cup of coffee. "So, Robert is overnighting at Mitch's house, and since we're headed for the lake later, well, I figure we have plenty of time for me to make things clear with you, now won't I?"

Jill's stomach sunk. Amy wasn't just hunting; she as toying with her kill. Jill knew she was the adult, here. Why couldn't she act like it? Why was she giving Amy the silent drill, when she could so easily put this to bed? Fuck.

"I want you to remember one thing Mom."

A question, finally. That was something her clouded mind could handle "What, dear?"

"Philosophically, I'm going to give you the exact same choice you gave me last night. So, remember that I told you, if you want it to stop, all you have to do is say so, o.k.? Just speak up." Amy walked up to her room. Well, now, what the F does THAT mean. Amy hunched slightly in her chair, wondering if she wanted to puke or not?

Jim arrived home at 4 pm, just in time to see a scantily clad Amy leaning over the pontoon boat's rail, reaching down to take each item as Jill passed them up to her. "Hi, Daddy!" her eyes lit up, as bending, the weight of her breasts pulled the bikini top low. Jim noticed, and his glare hung just on her breasts just a little too long for Jill. "Get dressed, Hon, let's go" she was half scowling, half anxious. Amy turned away with the comment, knowing that her mother's eyes were on Jim, and bending over the put the life jacket down, Jim noticed her G-string bikini NOT covering any of what had to be the most beautiful young ass cheeks he had seen in some time. '

Averting his eyes, Jim walked away. This was his daughter, for Christ's sake. Jill flashed her own glare at Amy, who stood to watch Jim as he entered the house, and in a moment of perturbed wrong-ness, noticed Amy's nipples beginning to strain against the fabric. "Wow", she thought "those actually ARE very nice." Youth. Hmmmpf.

They made the lake, motored out to their favorite little island, and beached the pontoon boat in the soft sand. Jim pitched the big tent as the girls retrieved the mattresses and blankets from the big front cushion bench seat of the pontoon. Everyone collected enough wood for tonight's fire plus something to cook breakfast with in the morning. These outings were a regular summer thing for the family, and now, with Amy getting ready for college, well, it was clear that, at least for the time being, these times were drawing to a close.

Jill, for her part, had been watching Amy's every move. If you didn't know she was her mother, you would have thought she was either a servant or a stalker. Amy, knowing, and catching her mother watching in the occasional glimpse out of the corner of her eye, would smile, wink at her Mom, and then either lean into her father, holding his arm, laughing. Jill couldn't be certain if this was just playful Amy, or if another something was in the air. She felt equal parts confused, aroused, and danger.

As twilight faded, it was still very warm. Now in darkness, Jim was the first to return to the fire, kicking off his flip-flops, and reclining against the oversize cooler, pulled a beer out, popping the top, and noticed his wife and daughter coming up from the lake. "Having fun?" It was more a statement than a questions.

Amy's 18 year-old legs easily outpaced her mother, and almost jogging up the sand, she landed softly next to her father on his left, and took the moment to snuggle closely, her breasts pressing into his arm. She kissed him on the cheek "I love you, Daddy." Jill watched, opposite them now, sitting on the other side of the fire.

Amy had a plan, and now was the time.

"Mom, can I get you a beer? Wine? Something?"

"Hmmm" Jill was skeptical. "Maybe a glass of wine?"

"o.k. hang on. Lift, Daddy" and Jim moved his torso forward enough for Amy to spin around on her knees, her ass swaying in front of him as she took far too long to dig into the cooler to retrieve the bottle. Amy's ass cheeks, covered with sand, were just inches away, and as Amy twisted slightly to the right to pick up two glasses, she was, in effect, mooning her father.

Jill saw Jim staring. Hell, Jill was staring. More than just a moon, Jim could see the G-string itself neatly stretched over Amy's puckering rosebud flowering out on either side, straining to keep the pocket-fabric taut enough to keep her labia covered. His eyes moved lower. Those lips were still wet from her swim, and pressing vigorously against the shear, satin fabric. It was as if Jim were being treated to the start of an X-rated movie.

Jill's eyes moved up Amy's body with the lewd display. When her eyes met Amy's, Amy winked at her, and Jill noticed the corners of Amy's lips in a slight smile. Jill looked back, and Jim was "adjusting" the front of his swim-trunks. Amy stood, and filled the glass full; perhaps too full. She walked around the fire, and bending at her knees again, put on display for her father her full, firm ass in the firelight. She handed the glass to Jill; their eyes never leaving each other's stare. Jill glanced at last to Jim, staring at and around Amy's smooth, round ass, and his mind asked him how that would feel in his hands. Neither of them blinked. Jill took the cup and began to pull it from her, but Amy didn't release it yet. Still staring into her mother's eyes, Amy voiced a whisper "remember, Mother, if you want it to stop, just speak up."

Amy released the cup to Jill, and smiling, turned and walked back to Jim. "Hold me, Daddy?" Amy asked as she skooched up along his left side again. Jim's left arm surrounded his daughter at her waist as she snuggled up, her head laying softly in his left shoulder, her breasts pressed softly into the side at his bare chest. They talked, Mother and Father and daughter. Jill laughed, Amy giggled as Jim's beer turned to a glass of wine, then another. Amy was kind enough to refill them both whenever they asked, and took "just a baby sip, Daddy" from his cup, smiling up at him as she did. Amy had turned now to stretch along the sand next to Jim, her left hand now idly running through his coarse chest hair down to his belly button and back as they talked. Jim relished the soft pleasure, and closing his eyes, relaxed even more fully, the wine clearing the way. Jill was on a trigger's edge, silent.

In his fog, he felt, but more "noticed" his erection filling. He wasn't drunk, no where near, but the sensations of the fire, the wine, and Amy's soft body and hands were, well, having a natural effect on him. He glanced at his trunks, and glanced at Jill, still talking with Amy. Noticing he was still covered well, and decided to just enjoy the moment.

Amy had noticed, as had Jill. As Jim's discourse quieted and he slipped into the space between awake and asleep, Amy talked less, and looking across the fire at her mother, let her left hand slip down her father's stomach until it reached his shorts, ensuring Jill watched every motion down. Amy smiled, and without speaking, lifted her hand slightly, and slid it down his covered erection, squeezing slightly as Jill sat motionless, watching, then past his balls and the bottom of his shorts, and onto his left thigh.

In his half-sleep, Jim felt his manhood swell some, and rather than falling deeper, he ascended back into consciousness. Aware now of his erection clearly outlining itself in his shorts, and in a very poor attempt to disguise this from his daughter, he announced his need to pee. "Gotta go see a man about a horse." Jill rolled her eyes. So disgusting.

"Daddy, don't go in the woods. There's ticks there. Let's go down the beach instead; for a swim."

Jill's heartbeat skipped, but she still sat, motionless. Jim faced his daughter. "o.k. sweety. The water does sound good." He looked at Jill, and began opening his mouth to ask her for her participation, but Amy got her words in first "I asked Mom, but she doesn't want to go swimming anymore. She's going to sit up on the pontoon and watch the moon for a bit."

Jim smiled at Jill, who weakly smiled back. Jim was looking at Jill, but Jill was looking into Amy's eyes for something. "Unless you don't want us to go swimming, Mother?" Amy's eyes were a pout for Jim, but Jill understood. She didn't speak a word, just got up, and with her 3rd glass of wine still quite full, left the fire for the pontoon.

Amy had put her head back down on Jim's shoulders. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, pumpkin. Let's go. Sure you're o.k. in the moonlight?"

"Oh, Daddy, yes, I love it here. I love it here with you!" You go down, I'll be right there. Amy was pulling Jim's hands to stand, and he began walking to the water's edge, near the shore. Amy reached into her pack, and Jill watched as she retrieved something small, held it near her neck and tummy, then put it away. "What is she up to?" Jill wondered. There was no need for mosquito spray, there was hardly a mosquito out all night.

Not even fifteen feet away from the pontoon, where the sandbar extended into the water for swimming, Jim stopped in front of the lake. Amy quickly caught up, and met him as he paused. She glanced up at her mother, leaning over the railing, watching them, and smiled back. She knew Jill could see them well enough, and hear everything above a whisper, but there was no way she could smell the perfume Amy had just applied. The very same perfume Jill had purchased to disguise her for that night.

Perfect.

The wine had actually hit Jim a bit harder than he was willing to admit. At 38, he didn't frequently imbibe, and his tolerance was low. Struggling to not sway, his words fell into the night as Amy moved closer behind him in the still, quiet, humid summer air "Amy, honey, I really do need to pee."

"I know, Daddy. You can pee. I won't look." His higher motor functions operating at well under 50% with his daughter's voice behind him. He slid his swim trunks down below his balls with his left hand, while his right hand fished his still turgid penis out. The short walk had done little to keep the swelling down, it seemed. He pointed it down towards the lake, and let his head slump back towards the moon. Jill was watching. She thought he looked like an upright wolf, ready to howl, but her heart beat faster as she watched what Amy was doing behind him. Her hands were up and behind her head, untying her bikini top, then released it to slide down her form on her hips and legs as she bent over, peeling her G-string away. She moved the two steps toward him, fully naked.

Ample urine left Jim's distended hose with gravity assisting, and he felt the relief begin for his over-inflated bladder. Amy used this moment to her advantage. Through his cloud, he felt Amy's naked form press against his back as she whispered into his right ear "Daddy, I want to help, o.k.?" Her right arm, warm and soft against his hip, snuck under his own and gripping the bottom of his shaft, she gently squeezed.

Jim, in his slight stupor, was only amused "Oh, Ho HO, girl, now you don't, um. You don't, uh, get to do that, uh, to your father."

"I'm just so curious, Dad. Please?!" Jim's stream was full and steady, and despite his stated objection, he didn't move her hand away. "Amy, sweety, what if you mother sees you doing this?"

"Dad, she is watching us now, from the pontoon, see? It's o.k., I promise. Besides, she'll say something if she doesn't approve. You know Mom. I've just never felt a guy go pee before, o.k.? Please?" It was then that the scent caught him. At first, it was his deeper brain that understood what it was, and only slowly gave him license to remember.

"Amy, that perfume..." Jim was trying to clear his head, but Amy's left hand slipping around his waist and pulling his abdomen into her warm body behind him was rerouting his logic, giving his sensory perception center stage. She used her left hand to grip the soft waist-band of his shorts, and swiftly pulled them down, off his buttocks, allowing them to puddle up into the sand beneath him. He hardly noticed the action, but felt the warmth of her abdomen and her mound as it pressed into his ass. He stopped talking, and Amy kissed his right shoulder. Her breasts were boring her nipples into his back.

"Just relax, Daddy. Don't I smell good for you?" He relaxed, but felt his member slightly lengthen as his stream continued unabated. Amy looked to her right, and watched her mother looking on as she lifted her father's cock, stroking her hand back on it as his stream of pee slowly waned.

Jill wanted to say something. Anything. The voice in her head was telling her that Amy was seducing him, right in front of her, and that she should stop it, and stop it now. Her memory showed her how she had displayed herself for Amy with Scott, and how wet Amy was as she slid along Jim's cock that night. Jill was the same kind of wet just watching right now, and try as she might, she couldn't speak, couldn't act. "I can stop this anytime, I just have to say something" her brain quoted Amy's instructions. Still, the night around her was quiet as Amy's sexual advance continued.

"Amy. Baby. I, uh..." but Amy's right hand tenderly squeezed her father's cock at the root, and she set the stage.

"You're going to hold still for me, Daddy, while I tell you a story, o.k., and then you can move."

Jim had his eyes closed, and Amy's left hand had returned to his tummy, strokint down from his chest, ending in his soft pubic hairs, rolling her fingers in the softness.

"Do you remember how I smell for you, Daddy?" and Amy's hand smoothly stroked to the tip of his cock, lengthening it along the way. He didn't answer, but the heat that was pouring into that shaft told her all she needed to know. "Oh, Daddy, so very nice" her thumb and forefinger squeezed the tip of his head, and caught the drop or four of precum that coated his head. She brought her hand up to her mouth, tasting the sweet nectar, as Jill watched on. "So, yummy, Daddy. So yummy for me."

Jim's head was clearing, and clearing fast. Amy returned her hand to his shaft, and continued her gentle touch. "Your wife, Dad, my mother, has, shall we say, a 'penchant' for watching things like this, don't you agree?" She squeezed his cock for emphasis. "Oh, Dad, the stories I could tell you right now, but I'll save those for later."

"You. That was you, Amy?" Jim had found the memory, and found his voice.

"mm-hmm, Daddy. By the way, you squirt a lot of sperm when you cum." Amy used her left hand to slide down the outside of her father's arm, and grasping his hand, moved it behind him and onto her naked hip. "Remember, Dad? Remember this?"