I had no idea what Prisha had said, so I looked at Justin.
I don’t know if he had heard what his mother had said. He was watching me as I pressed my palms flat to his mother’s sides, my fingers pointed forward toward her breasts, and as he watched, I pushed my way up his mother’s sides without stopping. Prisha tensed. I felt a buzz shoot through my arms. Right before my fingertips caressed the soft swells of her tits, a barrier seemed to form, and fear hit me–it excited me–then I broke through it and slid my hand onto the sides of Prisha’s tits as a surge of adrenaline exploded throughout my chest.
“Mmm,” Prisha moaned.
Justin shook his head. He moved his hands up my mother’s body. Mom smiled, and then Justin ran away before he touched the sides of my mother’s tits. I sighed and pressed into Prisha’s tit mounds, her flesh giving and yielding like two gel-filled stress balls. They were eager to bounce back to their original roundness after the pressure of my fingers left them.
What was Diana going to say about this?
I spread my thumb and forefinger wide and cupped the sides of Prisha’s breasts, openly molesting her in front of her son and my mother. I asked in a whisper of sound if she thought I was doing a good job, and she called me honey, and in a soft voice, saying that I was the perfect man for the job. Her son concentrated on my mother’s back, and it looked like the longer I left my fingers on the sides of Prisha’s tits, the more scrunched Mom’s forehead became.
“You’re doing a fine job, Timmy,” Prisha whispered, sounding almost asleep. “An excellent job.”
If that was a hint for Justin to touch my mother the same way, he didn’t take it.
My mother said nothing. She could see how I was touching her friend. She breathed evenly, and so did Prisha, and as I pulled my left arm away, the one closest to my mother and Justin, I slid the fingers of my right hand further into the crease between Prisha’s breasts and the lounge chair’s cushion, cupping her tit completely. She trembled and exhaled when my fingers bent her thick nipple as they slid across her oiled flesh. I squeezed her breast once. She moaned, and I withdrew my hands down her sides to her hips.
Justin never even tried to touch my mother’s tits. (Was that a good thing? A bad thing? I don’t know.)
The thin string of Prisha’s bikini panties gave me goosebumps. Her caramel skin and my mother’s golden flesh only had a thong of floss sliding through their cracks, and both women’s butts swelled in thick, round crescents compared to my older sister’s tight and firm teenage ass. These women had some meat to play with, and they wanted us to play.
I looked at Justin, who must have felt me watching him because he looked at me, flinched, and looked down at my mother’s arching butt. The side of his face trembled, then furrowed. I kept my eyes on him as I slid my oiled palms down the sides of his mother’s legs to her knees. I leaned over and placed my hands on her left calf, going to work on the yoga-sculpted muscles beneath her smooth skin.
Justin followed by lead, but his fingers didn’t dig into my mother’s calf as hard as mine dug into his mother’s muscle. Prisha sighed, the sound sleepy, and my mother gave Justin an encouraging moan, but my teammate couldn’t break through the fear that was holding him back.
I pressed my thumbs together and pushed them up the back of Prisha’s calf to her knee and then swept them back down. Her legs parted, and the swell of her muff pushed softly against the black nylon of her little G-string. The narrow strip of cloth between her legs didn’t hide the smooth skin of her outer labia, and I looked to my mother, between her legs, where she was showing just as much forbidden meat as Prisha was.
I worked Prisha’s right calf, taking my time, no rush. I moved past her knee and up the back of her thigh, using the same two-thumbed technique to push away the tightness beneath her skin. Her flesh was soft, but she was firm underneath, and while her flesh jiggled more than Diana’s, there was nothing flabby about her.
Justin couldn’t move but halfway up my mother’s thigh. He turned his head and watched as I worked his mother’s legs, his lips slightly parted. I pushed hard against his mother’s muscles, bringing moans from her lips. Justin stopped moving. I slid my right hand over the back of his mother’s right thigh, and I slid my left hand across her inner thigh, fingers straight down as I oiled her flesh, getting ever closer to the heat between her legs.
“Mazaa aa raha hai?” Prisha asked in a soothing tone that made my cock jump.
I didn’t understand her, but it sounded like a question.
“I,” Justin said, pausing, “need to use the restroom.”
He stood, turned away from our mothers, and rushed inside. My mother exhaled. It was a long exhale that could have meant anything. Prisha sighed, but as I stayed put with my hands on her body, she wiggled her leg and urged me to continue oiling her smooth flesh.