Sally and I sat at the kitchen table, and I excitedly told her about the way I had presented her nude pictures in an album.
"It's ever so sexy, you look great," I enthused, causing Sally to smile in anticipation.
"I can't wait to see it, make sure you don't spill any of your seed on it before I get a look at it," she joked. She was referencing my pornographic magazines she had seen where excitement affected my timing and aim and soiled the pictures of many a sultry model.
"Sally!"
"Don't tell me you haven't had a tug or two already," she teased her face blooming with exhilaration at the admiring notices I was giving her.
"I'm not saying that's for you to find out."
"You had me worried in the photo shoot, I'd never seen someone so sexually aroused, you were like an animal. I thought you were going to pin me down and fuck me for one moment."
I smiled while remembering how close to being completely out of control I was. After I had ejaculated on Sally's ass, I felt awful and was full of self-loathing but later when I complied her nude album, the feelings returned. Why didn't I just slip my cock in her when I had the chance? Her ass was spread, and her moist pussy was surrendered for me to plough.
"What would you have done if I did?" I returned, hiding behind a mischievously directed question.
"James!" Sally exclaimed blushing instantly, causing her to look away.
I took her embarrassed silence as a plus. She wasn't insulted by my insinuation, but she still didn't give a clue to her reaction if I had jumped her bones.
Suddenly Mother burst into the kitchen her bathrobe almost opening in her haste.
"I've got something of yours that needs explaining you filthy little pervert," She raged making her way to the far side drawer.
Sally looked at me in terror.
"Oh God please tell me you hid the album," she begged with her eyes wide in fear.
"What was that?" Mother overheard as I nodded nervously to calm Sally.
She stopped and pulled something out of the draw. I instantly became alarmed. She walked to the opposite edge of the table and held out Gemma's panties.
"What were these doing under your bed, James?"
My worst fear had come true Mother had found my panty stash. My head flew into a panic, my mouth making a few false starts to say something.
"They're mine," confessed Sally, taking the air out of my lungs in relief.
"Well what are they doing under your bed, James?"
"I don't know," was the best I could answer desperately trying to help Sally out.
"If they are your's Sally, what are they doing in James bedroom, why are they the wrong size and why are they covered in sperm?"
My head throbbed; we were once more skewered on the poisonous tongue of our harridan of a mother.
Sally lent back in her chair and delivered her killer excuse.
"They're too big because my boyfriend bought the wrong size, they're covered in semen because some of us still have a sex life and they were left in James's room because we all know what a nosey pervert you are."
"You fucking whore how dare you!" screamed Mother.
"It's the truth, ask her why father left, James?"
"You bitch!"
"Go on ask her?"
I thought it best to remain silent, as I didn't know the landscape of the argument.
"As soon as you're old enough young lady, you are out of this house!" Mother screamed.
"Do you really think I'd stay in this den of perverted crazies?"
Boldly yelled back, Sally, beginning to cry.
"You little bitch, I've given you everything to get on in this world, and this is how you thank me?"
"Everything!"
"Yes everything!"
Sally leapt from the table with a force that pushed her chair onto the floor behind.
"Everything except a father, it was you who made him leave you vicious bitch!" Screamed Sally her face now waterlogged with tears. She turned and went for the front door.
I searched the neighbourhood for Sally calling in at her friend's houses, and none of them had seen her. I chanced the library, knowing it was a haunt of hers in earlier years when she needed a bit of silence when Mother and father were arguing. Sally was nowhere to be found.
It had been three days since the disappearance of Sally as Mother breezed past me art the kitchen table grabbing her candles before stomping up the stairs to the bath. My hatred for her had grown execrably, and all the time she was in the kitchen, I kept my head down studiously studying the mailshots of the day.
Another day passed, and I was beginning to accept that Sally would not be returning. I ate my tea vowing to myself to get through college to get a job and start again. I held onto that dream as It was the only solace I could find. That was so simple except how would I get Gemma? I awoke from my trance by the doorbell. I sleepwalked to the front door without any interest to who may be at there. I opened the door wide.
"Hello, James," cheerfully greeted Mrs Leighton. She was dressed to kill, but it was her words that I was more fearful of.
"Er Hello Mrs Leighton," I welcomed, as my body became shot through with adrenaline.
"I've come to see your Mother," she explained with a malicious smile. A smile she knew that would have my mind saturated with fear. I stood transfixed with racing thoughts of the horrors she could torment me with.
"Well aren't you going to let me in?" She impatiently requested still disingenuously smiling while her words suggested at an interrogation.
"Who is it?" shouted Mother from the depths of our house.
"Its Mrs Leighton," I needlessly shouted back as Mother rapidly walked to the door still dressed in her bathrobe.
"Just don't stand there like a lemon, let her in," impatiently rebuked Mother while pushing me to one side, "Sorry about my bone idle, good for nothing son."
"Oh I don't know," leered Mrs Leighton with a heinous smile as she brushed by me, "I could think of a thing or two to do with him."
Her hand went out to grab at my nether regions while my mothers back was turned. I quickly evaded her grasp. Whatever she was here for it was plain she wasn't going to spare my blushes.
"Ha! What that insipid waste of space, he couldn't get laid in a brothel," cruelly insulted Mother.
"I don't know he may get one or two offers of a blow-job," suggested Mrs Leighton winking at me.
"Yeah, from other men maybe, come this way, my bathrooms upstairs," insulted Mother before leading the way.
I become confused, was Mrs Leighton expecting me to act on her offer? Was she going to tell Mother what had been going on; and why were they going to the bathroom?
I had resisted going into the attic to spy on Mother in the bath, but this situation forced my arm. I had to know what was being said about me so I could be ready with a defensive strategy against them.
I sneaked upstairs and silently pulled down the ladders from the loft ceiling. I could hear the two vicious bitches haughtily hackling above the sound of water spewing from the taps.
I stealthily crept to the small hut-like cladding around the bathroom mirror. I trod softly in a minefield of creaking floorboards and gradually, carefully brought into view the room below.
Mother and Mrs Leighton were standing in the bath, their skin sweating amidst the rising steam. Their hair was wet as they kissed sensually, leaning back, so their nipples gently grazed each other. They pulled in to each other with hands-on their asses grinding their pussies together. They went into a mad pussy grinding, ass kneading, nipple-caressing dance, kissing each other hard when they eventually pulled in close breast to breast.
So that whore 'Mrs Leighton' was a friend of my Mothers after all. Sandra had been telling the truth about my Mother's lesbian proclivities. In years past this fact would have shocked and even upset me, but now it was just another addition to Mothers infantry of madness.
The naked women's caressing became more vigorous, their hands practically rubbing the skin as their limbs swept broader and more challenging. Their kisses became more aggressive, their mouths crashing hastily together as their hair swung.
I had been led to believe that lesbian love was always more gentle and seductive but what I was watching was fast hard and gratuitous.
The water sloshed in the bath as they held each other in a mad dance. I caught a whiff of something exotic and saw two reefers burning away.
Mrs Leighton pulled her head away and ravenously bit into Mother's neck, causing her to scream. She retaliated by grabbing her by her pussy hair and twisting. They both snarled at each other like wild cats. Their once soft caressing strokes had now become frenzied scratching lashes as their mouths bit into each other.
