Staring at his phone, he suddenly remembered how much Lauren used social media. Hmm. Having never used it before, he fumbled through the app store and downloaded those he remembered as being the “big three.” It took him a while — and a bit more bourbon — but he was finally able to register and get accounts opened for each. From there, it didn’t take him long to find his wife’s public profiles. It’s amazing how sophisticated the search features are these days. Within seconds, her past public posts began to appear. He gasped when seeing what others had been telling him about for so many months. Snaps on the beach with the friends she’d been slowly accumulating. Selfies with neighbors as they drank wine and watched the sunset. Photos of her at various nightclub, many with men who were taking various liberties with their hands. Surely there had been many more opportunities to sleep with guys than Lauren had ever alluded to. And surely, she had. This then is what everyone else had been seeing. Their friends, parishioners…everyone. Everyone but him. The butterfly was making the rounds for all to see. And what must they think of me?
Depressed, but aroused, his fingers reached down and unsnapped his jeans. Flipping to a pic of her dancing cheek to cheek in a bar with a younger guy, his hand inched further towards his crotch until it enveloped his trembling dick.
If this was her public posts, then what are the private ones like? He pressed the option to send a friend request, not knowing if it would ever be accepted.
Fap, fap, fap.
+++++
It was now late afternoon, and with the locals returning from the Christmas holiday and tourists always abound, real estate on South Beach was again at a premium. By the time the women found a small patch of sand to spread their blankets, they were ready to enjoy a drink and soak up some sun.
Caroline shimmied out of her tee and short shorts, her long legs and youthful body garnering more than a few looks from passersby on the beach. Bustier than her mother, she was close to spilling out of the new yellow two-piece they’d purchased down the street. Below, her ass cheeks weren’t faring much better as the high waist bottoms could barely contain them.
Lauren stripped off her street clothes and turned a few heads herself. Nearly identical from afar, their bust size made all the difference. Why her daughters had grown bigger was a mystery indeed, she didn’t care. Less for gravity to work with. After handing her daughter a seltzer, the 48-year-old bent over and straightened out an unruly beach towel. Caroline smiled, amused at the surreptitious looks her mom was getting from the men around them. She had to admit, although mama had some miles on her, she was still one very sexy broad.
“Can you do my back,” the younger of the two asked, laying on her belly.
Squirting out a glob of cream from the long tube, Lauren began to spread it evenly across the 27-year-old’s skin, rubbing the greasy concoction in a circle until it blended in. When she reached Caroline’s waist, she used a pinky finger to push aside the top band of the bottoms to avoid stains. That’s when the Iowan mother noticed something that forever changed the way she thought of her daughter. There, nestled in the valley just above the crevice of her very pale ass cheeks, was a permanent tattoo of an ace of spades. It was small and inconspicuous, but interesting, nonetheless.
The older woman cocked an eyebrow. Since Caroline wasn’t much of a card player, the implication was clear. Hmm. Should she even mention it? After all, the girl was almost thirty and surely had her share of sexual experiences by now. Yet, curiosity got the best of her.
“You, eh, been hanging out with your Uncle Zane and his prison buddies?”
Caroline raised her head off the towel, with a questioning expression.
“Prison buddies? What are you talking about?”
“That’s some interesting ink down there.”
“Oh that,” the girl responded nonchalantly. “Bikers aren’t the only ones with tattoos, Mom.”
“Uh huh.”
A few minutes passed while the women laid on their respective blankets enjoying the warm rays, both feeling the elephant on the beach that was standing above them. Finally, Caroline couldn’t take it anymore.
“It’s exactly what you think.”
Lauren popped an eye open, shielding it from the sun. “Oh, okay,” she replied airily. “I didn’t know you dated black men.”
“Just the cute ones. Does that bother you?”
That caused Lauren to pause. Did it? Not really, I guess. Neither she and Corey had ever been intentionally racist, nor had the topic of the girls dating other races ever come up. Like most parents, they just wanted their kids to be happy.
“Honestly, I don’t know. Never really thought about it. Can’t speak for your father.”
“Given what you and he have been doing, I’m guessing his attitude towards sexual preferences is pretty lax these days.”
“Fair point.”
Lauren tried to remember but couldn’t recall seeing a picture of Caroline’s most recent boyfriend. “So, is Bernard black?”
The girl flipped over onto her back and inched down the small bikini bridge of her bottoms.
“Yes.”
Another pregnant moment.
“Um, does he…”
“Yes, mother, and every inch of the rumors are true.”
“I was going to ask if he lived close to you.”
“Oh.”
The two giggled beneath their dark sunglasses a bit too loud as the warm sun continued to bake their skin.
This was going to be a fun visit.
+++++
Fifteen hundred miles away, Zane stepped from a borrowed car and pulled his leather jacket tight around his neck. Since Abby had taken the truck in the divorce, his only ride was Betsy, and tooling around on two wheels in Iowa’s twenty-degree weather was not something his aging bones could handle. It sucked getting old.
Walking to the front of the house, the mechanic looked for signs of life. There were none, beyond a couple ladders propped up against the sides where Corey appeared to have been scraping away some old paint. He rang the doorbell, hoping his estranged friend would answer.
Inside, the Miller patriarch was still browsing through his wife’s social media pictures and stroking his cock absentmindedly.
Fap, fap, fap.
He was just about ready to ramp it up and bring it home when the doorbell rang.
Are you fucking kidding me? Really?
Struggling to get out of the recliner, the very intoxicated project manager stuffed a stiff dick back into his jeans and grabbed the nearly empty whiskey bottle. It would make a damn fine weapon if he needed it.
“Corey, it’s me. Open up, it’s colder than a witch’s tit out here.”
Zane could see a dim figure through the frosted sidelights, just feet away.
“C’mon, man, I know you’re in there. Why you been ignoring me? I thought we were tight.”
Nothing now.
“Look man, it’s not like I hit on her behind your back. You set me up, Cors and I only did what you wanted me to, right?”
Still nothing.
“Why didn’t you just ask me? I would have gladly obliged you both. I’ve always thought she’s a stone-cold fox. We could have hooked up on your couch for all I care.”
Beating off had left Corey’s cock hard, and it suddenly twitched again. Always?
“Buddy, listen, I just want us to go back to the way we were. Fishing, seeing a varsity game. It’s no big deal, man. We’ve shared a lot of things, right? It’s just sex.”
He could see the shadow move again.
“I get it though. You dig when other guys are with her. Whatever. I don’t think anything less of you. Passing around the ol’ lady isn’t anything new with the crowd I ride with.”
Zane again listened intently. Not hearing anything, he pounded on the door. “What the FUCK, dude? I’m trying to work things out here. You think this isn’t awkward for me too? What do I have to do to get your attention?”
The motion on the other side suddenly got fainter. It was walking away.
The biker punched the doorframe in frustration twice in rapid succession, then immediately regretted it as his knuckles began to bleed.
“SHIT!”
Rubbing his hand, he walked sideways back down the sidewalk to his ride, occasionally turning to see if the door had opened. When it didn’t, Zane back quickly out of the driveway and barked the tires as the car sped from of the quiet neighborhood, his middle finger prominently displayed out the window and above the roof of the car.
+++++
Lauren and her visiting daughter had a quiet Thursday evening, strolling up and down the downtown boulevard and eventually stopping in for dinner at the Taffy Snapper. Both enjoyed cooling off with some ice-cold beverages and laughed about their afternoon beach outing, especially the attention they both got from bulging jerk jocks looking to strike up a conversation. Nearly all had assumed the girls were sisters which neither tried to dispel. Caroline past the time by sippubg a gin and tonic and flipping through candid photos she’d snapped that day.
Of particular interest were ones of Lauren with a couple muscle-bound meatheads that had “just happened by”. Never before had the younger woman seen men fawning over her mother like that. Sure, she’d grown up watching heads turn here and there, especially at school functions when her smartly dressed mother had come right from work. Thinking back, even her dad’s friends did a little leering, though she was quite sure Dad himself was oblivious. Yes, today had provided Caroline a unique view into Lauren Miller, sexy temptress, rather than Lauren Miller, PTA mom. And strangely, being part of that didn’t feel strange at all.
“Oh, now this one was cute,” she remarked to her mother. “He was drooling all over you. Want to post them?”
Lauren shook her head. “Nah, those guys are oafs. Muscles like that are a dime a dozen down here.”
“Well, not where I live,” Caroline commented wistfully. “And they seem to be everywhere. But I get ya. Besides, Dad would probably freak. Good thing he doesn’t have a clue as to what social media is.”
Lauren tapped her phone. “Don’t be so sure. I just received some friend requests from him this afternoon.”
“From Dad? Really? Wow, he’s getting trendy in his old age. If that’s true, then he’s already seen the pics that has everyone back home questioning your fidelity. The public ones, anyway.”