When I woke, I instantly remembered everything of the night before, and the morning for that matter, and I was disappointed that I was alone in bed. But I needed, desperately, to pee. So I took care of that and then I brushed my teeth before pulling on a pair of shorts and going in search of coffee.
Mom and Lee were sitting at the table, drinking coffee. I checked their cups, took mom’s which was empty, and poured a fresh one for me and one for her as well. Back at the dining room table, I sat, making a little triangle with mom to my left, Lee to my right, and me at the head of the table.
“Sooooooooooo,” Lee said with a giggle, “whatcha thinkin’?”
“Honestly?” I said, taking the first sip, “I’m overwhelmed.”
Lee stood and came to stand by me, putting her hand on my shoulder.
When I turned to face her I was eye-to-pussy with the bright orange bush, thick and curly, of a true redhead. The T-shirt she had on was too short to cover her completely.
“The question is,” she said, her hand lightly on my shoulder, “man of the house,” and the way she said that brought home more than just the unclothed bush I was looking at could, that things had changed, “is there room in your household for me?”
Mom stood then, and came to the other side of me, mirroring Lee’s position and pose, her hand on my shoulder.
And again I was eye-to-pussy, this time with her coarse, black, sparse pubic hair.
“It’s up to you, Davey,” she said, “but if I’m allowed to say, I’d like her to stay with us.”
I managed to get my eyes up to meet mom’s and then to meet Lee’s.
“I’m overwhelmed,” I said again.
Lee bent down and kissed me.
“It’s up to you,” she said.
Mom bent down and kissed me.
“It’s up to you,” she said.
And they returned to their seats.
I finished my coffee and went for a refill.
When I got back to the table, Lee was gone and mom was sitting there.
“Davey,” she said, and from the look on her face I knew her coffee had been spiked with her ever-present vodka bottle, “you know we didn’t plan last night, don’t you?”
I smiled and said, “Yes,” as I reached across the table for the bottle and poured myself a shot into my coffee.
Yeah, I grimaced at the taste.
“But it happened, Davey, and I don’t regret it,” she said, reaching over and touching my hand.
When I didn’t say anything she went on.
“You felt it too, didn’t you?” she asked, “how perfectly we matched.”
I smiled and said, “yes.”
“I am yours,” she said simply, “I’ll never find anyone like you.”
I didn’t have anything to say to that.
“But Davey,” she said, pausing for another drink from her fortified coffee, “Lee has been very good to me and I’d like her to stay.”
Finally, I spoke.
“With us?” I asked.
She smiled then, a big, real smile, shading into a grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
She covered my hand with hers and said, “it’s a big bed, honey, why don’t you try it out?”
I suppose I was being naive. Okay, I was being stupidly naive, but I said, “huh?”
She giggled at that, that delightfully high-pitched giggle that made her sound like a schoolgirl.
“Finish your coffee, honey,” she said, “and try her. I’m going to shower now.”
I watched as she walked away, finding the round bruises on her ass to be oddly sexy. And I thought she put some extra swing into her hips as she walked away.
So I finished my coffee, feeling a slight buzz as the vodka took hold, stood, and walked into the bedroom.
She was waiting for me and I realized I had seen that pose before. She was in the same position as Marilyn Monroe was, famously, in the first edition of Playboy Magazine. She was on her right side, her right arm stretched out over the pillow, her right leg straight, toes pointed, with her left leg bent at the hip and the knee, showing her ass nicely but completely hiding her pussy in the fashion of 1950s skin magazines. Her body was twisted at the waist, her left arm stretched over the other pillow, and her breasts proudly displayed.
All of that was nice but it was the smile on her face that got to me. It was pure sexual invitation.
Okay, I stopped and stared.
“I won’t say ‘no,’ Davey,” she said, her voice throaty, husky, and soft.
And I knew, on that same sort of instinctive level, what to say.
“Don’t move,” I said, moving around the bed, looking, liking the way her eyes followed me.
Finally I just lightly caressed the line of her ass, firm and round.
“I think you need what you were giving mom when I walked in last night,” I said.
She sort of moaned.
“Or are you going to start saying ‘no’ already?” I asked.
She held out her arms but I stepped back, waggled my finger, and said, “nuh-uh, not until after your spanking.”
I left the bedroom. In the dining room, mom was drinking coffee again. She looked up and said, “what did you decide.”
I chuckled, picked up one of the chairs, said, “the jury’s still out,” and went into the front room where I put the chair on the floor right where it had been when I walked in last night.
She followed in a few seconds, cup and bottle in hand, eyes a little shiny, and sat on the couch.
I sat in the chair and waited.
Mom lit one of her Kools, gave me a twisted smile, poured a strong shot into her coffee, and leaned back, her knees parted enough to show me her pussy.
We waited.
It was one of those timeless moments as we waited, mom smoking and drinking, me just peeking. I really don’t know how long passed. A few minutes certainly, but sometime just set a timer and stand quietly for one minute while someone else times it to get some idea of how time can stop. It was THAT kind of moment.
I heard the bathroom door close and waited again.
When Lee walked in it was obvious she had spent her time in the bathroom doing something other than peeing and pooping. Her hair was carefully styled and her makeup was perfect. She looked very good as she walked in, head high, back straight, naked as the day she was born.
She walked to me, absolutely silent on her bare feet, stood at the right of my chair for a few seconds, met my eyes and then mom’s for a long second before slowly bending and accepting the classic over-the-knees position across my lap.
I met mom’s eyes across Lee’s body and saw her lick her lips, take a drink, and light another cigarette. Her hands were trembling.
The ass under my hand was smooth and firm and toned. An athlete’s ass, like the rest of her body. I knew she swam miles a day and it showed in the tone of her body.
The spanking lingered, and I enjoyed it. I liked it all. I liked the feel of my hand on her skin. I liked the color I brought. I smiled at her tears and the shuddering of her body as she cried. Hell, I liked that I was making her cry, and that kind of frightened me on some level.
She almost got away when she came. My hand between her shoulder blades almost lost purchase as she squirmed, her body porpoising, legs kicking, screaming her release. But I hung on and entwined my fingers in her hair, making her cry out with a fresh indignity.
I kept her going through three more orgasms, each more powerful than the last until she was simply limp across my knees.