Chapter 6: Kath’s Birthday Party

Kate Muggleton at your service, everybody. Welcome to my further adventures. If you remember, we parted immediately after I’d fallen asleep after making love with my two kids simultaneously. But how did I get to that point? Well, after my third and final appointment with the hypnotherapist Edgar Fontaine, I discovered that although I’d been sexually submissive all my adult life, I was more of a switch than solely submissive.

Deciding I wanted to explore my dominant side further, I took my daughter, Krissy, to a sex store. After some adventures there, I bought some items to help with my exploration. After testing one of the toys I’d bought on my daughter, I’d gone down on her. As I tongued her pussy, her imminent orgasm made her clamp her thighs tightly around my ears, and I didn’t hear my son, Tommy, enter the room.

Taking advantage of my vulnerable position, my son ploughed his long, beautifully thick cock into my soppingly wet pussy. Of course, doing either of these things individually with my son and daughter was fine, but to let them both have me simultaneously? Well, I guess I’m deserving of the title I proudly wear —Slut Mommie!

Shall we see what happened next?

I wasn’t aware of what happened after falling asleep, but I woke in the morning, lying on my side, with my son’s deliciously erect cock sliding back into my cum messy pussy. Stretching, I reached back and cupped my son’s head as I turned my head for a kiss. But before I could kiss him, my daughter pressed her luscious body against me and locked her lips to mine.

“Morning, our delicious little Mommie slut,” my children chorused as they stroked my body and fanned my arousal.

Figuring the cat was out of the bag, I kissed Krissy fervently and then turned my head to kiss Tommy. As I kissed him, Tommy’s big hand curled across my curved tummy, over my waxed bare mound and onto my love button. Simultaneously, my daughter slid lower and cupped my left breast before softly running her tongue over my turgid nipple.

Enjoying the twin sensations immensely, I lifted my bent left knee to expose my soaking pussy to Tommy’s deft ministrations. My daughter took my spread legs as an invitation and slowly kissed down my stomach until her lips touched where Tommy’s hand stroked.

Taking the hint, my son moved his hand to my breast, and Krissy’s lips slid onto my big clit. With my head turned to kiss my son as a mother should never kiss her son, I felt my daughter’s gifted tongue on an area a daughter should never touch on her mother, let alone kiss and tongue. The decadence and debauchery of these immoral acts excited me, and I swiftly climbed to my sexual crest, ready to fling myself off orgasm’s peak.

Then my son moaned, “Krissy’s licking my balls, Mom. My cock is buried deep in your slutty Mommie cunt, and your equally slutty daughter is licking my shaft and balls as I fuck you. What do you think about that, Mom? Do you think I should fuck her next?”

“No!” I denied, but that depraved image blasted me off my climax’s launch pad, and I squealed into my son’s mouth as my pussy gushed fluids over his big balls and onto my daughter’s lips.

Barely holding onto consciousness, I despairingly watched my son roll his sister over and slide between her obscenely spread but shapely thighs. However, when Tommy moved to cover her body with his, Krissy yelled, “No! If you go down on me, I’ll suck you off, but I’m not giving you my virginity! That privilege belongs to another!”

Fortunately, as the gentleman he is, my son accepted his sister’s refusal and moved lower to service her orally. Settling over her pussy, he looked up, smiled, and said, “Sorry, Krissy. I didn’t know you were still a virgin. I would never have tried to make love to you if I did. I only wish I could be the lucky guy you give it up to!” Then he lowered his mouth onto her succulent ... cunt, I told myself firmly.

’Kate Ashley Muggleton,’ I chided myself. ‘Your morality is ridiculous! You’ll happily have incestuous sex with your children simultaneously but won’t use a swear word to describe their genitals? You are messed up, girl!’

Messed up or not, I masturbated as I watched my son bring my daughter off with his hands and tongue, always being careful not to break her hymen accidentally. Then I lay beside her as we shared her brother’s cock back and forth until we knelt submissively on the floor beside my bed so he could cum over our faces.

Finally, Krissy and I 69’d with me on top so my son could fuck my willing cunt as his sister and mother tongued each other’s pussy.

We shared a last orgasm when Tommy’s seed splashing onto my cervix precipitated my orgasm, causing me to scream in ecstasy. My scream blasted hot air over Krissy’s clit, and her scream would have been as loud as mine, except it was muffled by her lips on my cunt.

It was a tight squeeze, but we managed to shower together. Krissy said her clit was too sensitive to stand any more attention, so Tommy and I brought each other to soft climaxes, and then he headed into his club to work with the coaches to improve his ruck skills. Krissy left to join her study group, leaving me home alone.

I hadn’t vacuumed or mopped this week yet, so I had a productive day, ensuring my home was spotless from top to tail. Of course, cleaning doesn’t require much thought, so I could contemplate the last few day’s events. The revelation that Edgar had taken it upon himself to free me from my solely submissive nature despite only being requested to help me stop smoking had me confused and wondering if that was his true intention.

Then I needed to work out why I’d stopped orgasming instantly when someone called me a slut. But before that, I needed to understand why Edgar’s implanted order to orgasmically respond when someone used that name worked to start with. After all, he had categorically proven that he could not make me do anything unless I was willing to do it.

’Did I want to be a slut?’ I wondered. ‘Was that implanted suggestion merely my excuse to do what I’d always wanted to do and fuck anyone I felt like fucking?’

More despairingly, I wondered why most of my extramarital lovers were women. If I wanted nothing more than to be a slut, then why was I picking only women to take between my shapely thighs? Was I rationalising that my husband wouldn’t freak out if he discovered me bedding women, but would he would if it were a man? Or was it because, as my children feared, I was turning into a ‘big old dyke’?

’In thought, I tittered, ‘There is no way I’m ever wearing ‘comfortable shoes’ when I go out! So maybe not!’

I didn’t come to any final conclusions but realised I had secretly resented my husband’s continual absences. Resented the many nights I’d slept alone, sexually frustrated, with only my trusty right hand for relief. Despised that I had to endure his continual fucking around. Despised having to know he fucked his secretary non-stop on every trip and that she spent more nights sleeping in his arms than I did.

“I bet she’s trying to get pregnant by him,’ I mused. Then giggled when I realised she’d been unsuccessful, which had to have irritated her endlessly.

John would be back on Wednesday, and despite my musing and resentments, I missed and loved him. Despite his behaviour and regular aloofness when he was home, he was still the man I wanted to spend my life with. It was just that I wanted to see more of him. I wanted him home to fuck me and take me to task when I erred. I needed his firm hand on my shapely ass when correction was required because it let me know he cared for me enough to take the time to do it.

The one conclusion I reached was that my behaviour was spiralling out of control because his firm hand wasn’t on my rudder to direct and correct my course. My earlier musing that if my husband remained mostly absent due to his work commitments, I needed a Master or Mistress to control my behaviour seemed even more accurate than I thought.

But, of course, what did all of that mean to my burgeoning ability to own and dominate others? If I wanted to submit, how could I dominate? Why did I want a firm hand to guide my life if I needed to be dominant? The answer lay in the paradox of a true switch, and the bottom line was that I needed both.

I examined the lovers in my life, starting with my gravest error, Frank Pritchard. When Frank found me urinating, if I’d had the skills I developed from Edgar’s teachings, I have no doubt I would have avoided his trap. However, that would have meant I wouldn’t have had my experiences at La Châteaux du Plaisir Tortueux. Experiences that, despite my fear of being recognised, I enjoyed immensely.

The others, however, Siobhan, Caoimhe, and Juana, the guy I blew in the adult store, were all revenge fucks because my husband continually abandoned me to travel with and fuck his secretary, Amanda. Liz was part of learning how to switch to dominance —leaving only making love with my children to explain.

The trite explanation was that I was perpetuating the incest cycle that I endured with my family of origin. But I knew that was crap. I didn’t endure anything at home with my parents because my sisters and I weren’t abused. Yes, we had to be naked inside our house at all times unless we had people over. But with four out of five people in my home naked, and given that my father was absent for extended periods, it was four out of four, nudity was the norm, and we were, in reality, no different to a nudist family.

Corrections, as I’ve explained, were a cane to our breasts and/or ass, but these only proved that my parents loved and cared for us enough to ensure that our behaviour didn’t spiral into teenage rebellion and defiance. Neither my father nor mother corrected us angrily—something I’d seen with my friend’s parents all too often. No, instead of an anger-inflamed belting, Mom calmly explained to Dad what we’d done. He would calmly question us to see if our version differed from our mother’s or if there were extenuating circumstances for our errant behaviour, then correct us if required.

What I’m trying to explain is that I have nothing but respect and admiration for my parents and do not, in any way, manner, or form, feel that I was abused. As the French would say, “Au contraire, Mon Cherie”.

The only bitterness I have is from their forgetting my birthday three years in a row, culminating in the third year with me losing my virginity to my now husband. But even that turned to roses because we have remained successfully and lovingly married for slightly more than twenty years and have raised two fantastic children to early adulthood.

Cleaning done, I showered and changed, then began preparing dinner. Tommy phoned as I took the chicken breasts out of the fridge and announced he, Gina, Phil and Caoimhe were heading to ours for dinner. I added extra breasts and began preparing a diced chicken breast, chorizo sausage and prawn risotto. I didn’t have enough breasts defrosted for so many, so I needed to add extra rice and sausage to cater for the additional people. Of course, chicken risotto wasn’t what I’d planned to make for dinner, but it was a meal I could quickly expand to feed another three people.

I looked at my clothes and thought about my best friend’s son. I was attracted to the young man, that was for sure, but did I want him to bed me? The short answer was yes. My first experience with a man other than my husband was with the tiny dicked Frank Pritchard, and although I’d orgasmed, the experience left me feeling dirty and demeaned. I hadn’t completely decided yet, but I was leaning towards letting Phil seduce me and hopefully giving me some delicious memories to counter the gravid images of what I’d done with Frank.

Which reminded me that Frank still had many salacious pics of me, my pussy and my ass. Some of which showed his cum leaking from my freshly fucked pussy. Tommy assured me that he had a plan to get those photos deleted permanently. He’d also promised to anonymously tip off the authorities that Frank was a predatory homosexual paedophile.

Deciding I wanted to change into something Phil and Tommy would find sexy, I put the rice into the cooker and returned to my room. Looking through my collection, I chose my pink mesh lace, panel bow front, and backless halter dress. This dress had built-in cups that would hold my breasts high and firm before me, displaying them gorgeously to anyone looking.

It was so short that even I dared not go pantyless wearing it. It’s one thing to tease a possible pussy flash, another to actually do it. I wanted sexy, not slutty. And there was that word again, yet no orgasmic response. Yes, my pussy warmed and moistened when I revelled in that term as I was doing now, but I no longer needed to get off immediately.

I chose a sheer black barely wider than a thong panty that would show through the dress’ mesh to ensure Phil and Tommy would be intensely aware that I wore little more than a micro-mini dress. Plus, I rouged my nipples so they’d show through the dress’ cups. I decided against heels because I thought wearing those implied I was dressing to go out instead of for a night in. Thinking about how I wanted to look, I decided to wear my white sneakers sockless. Satisfied with how I looked, I quickly touched up my lippy and went to finish making dinner.

When I got to the kitchen, I saw that Krissy had returned from her study group and was frying the steamed rice, chicken, sausage and prawns. Walking quietly up behind her, I casually groped her curvy ass before sliding my hand onto her perineum and tickling. She turned her head, and we exchanged a lover’s kiss before she leant her head back on my shoulder, sighed and said, “You can only keep doing that for as long as you want, Mom.”

Krissy turned back to the rice and stirred the mixture before pointing at the fridge and saying, “Why don’t you get us a glass of wine, sit down and relax, Mom? I’ll finish dinner. I assume we’ve got guests coming by the amount of chicken, prawns and sausage you laid out?”

Nodding, I took out the already opened Pike & Joyce Beurre Bosc Pinot Gris bottle and poured two glasses. Handing one to my daughter, I took a sip and replied, “Yes. Your brother is bringing Gina, Phil and Caoimhe home for dinner.”

Krissy squeaked and handed me the wooden stirrer. “I need to change and freshen up, Mom,” she breathlessly told me. “Do you mind finishing dinner?”

Giggling, I watched my daughter race upstairs. She clearly had the same thing for my best friend’s son as I did, and I briefly wondered if she’d be prepared to give Phil, instead of her father, her virginity. Then an even more wicked thought entered my mind —would she share Phil with me? Could we trip him into bed together? Feeling that familiar tingle morphing slowly into wet heat, I allowed myself to fantasise it would happen.

Krissy’s return killed my fantasy. I looked her over and giggled, “Been raiding Mommy’s closet again, baby girl?” My daughter had dressed in one of my two-piece skirt and top sets —an off-the-shoulder solid red top that clung to her luscious, braless C-cups like a second skin and a floral split skirt with a side split to barely below her pussy. She, too, wore white sneakers.

Blushing, Krissy replied, “I need to go shopping for some sexier outfits, Mom. Because of my overly developed assets, I tended to dress down before my eighteenth birthday so boys would leave me alone. But now I’m eighteen, I’d like to tease with what I wear like you do.”

“You’re certainly gorgeous and sexy enough to wear outfits like you have on, honey,” I told her. “Your father and I have always encouraged you to have a positive self-body image and be proud of your appearance without being arrogant about it. I understand your reasons for dressing down because I dressed similarly before I turned eighteen. However, if, as I do, you are going to parade your sensuality overtly, you must always be vigilant of your surroundings. Too many men equate women dressing revealingly with them being sluts, and they may try to take advantage of you.”

“That’s ridiculous, Mom!” Krissy exclaimed. “I should be able to wear what I want, where I want, without risking being raped! After all, those pigs wouldn’t rob a bank just because someone left the safe open!”

Krissy had just espoused what I considered to be a specious argument that feminists constantly trotted out. Along with —Teach your son’s not to be rapists. Don’t tell my daughter what to wear. The bank analogy isn’t apt and doesn’t correlate to the act of rape. A better analogy would be to say that I should be able to take a thousand dollars out of my bank account in $50 notes and walk around the Queen Street Mall, handing them out to anyone I thought needed or deserved it. Of course, if I did that, before too long, someone would knock me over the head and take the whole bundle.

There have been rapists since the dawn of humanity, and a wise woman keeps herself from harm by avoiding being alone in places and situations where a man’s greater strength can be used to assail her. That is the reality we live in. We’re not in some feminist-inspired utopian alter-earth where men are totally subjugated and there is no danger of rape or assault.

However, as much as I wanted to shake my daughter and rub her nose in today’s reality, I knew it would only lead to an argument, so I smiled and responded, “Even so, Krissy, try not to put yourself in risky situations, okay?”

“Okay, Mom,” she sighed. “I’ll go and set the table and put out the wine glasses.”

I watched her sexy ass sway as she walked off. I couldn’t help it and nearly burned the risotto as a result. Giggling at myself for my lustful thoughts, I scraped the risotto into a serving dish and added parmesan cheese to my taste. I’d put extra on the table for anyone who wanted more.

Tommy and the rest arrived as I placed the bowl on the table, and we immediately sat to eat. Tommy and Phil drank beer and conversed about their photography business. Phil had set up the website with some of my and Krissy’s ‘glam pics’. He said that although they hadn’t received any bookings yet, interest was running high, with several thousand hits on their Facebook, Twitter and Instagram pages already.

Then Phil nudged Tommy and grinned at my daughter and me. “We did get one genuine enquiry, though, Kate and Krissy,” he teased. ’You did?’ Krissy asked. “Yes,” Phil confirmed. “Garion Hall’s Abby Winters studio called to ask if you two were interested in doing a film together.”

I had figured out that Abby Winters was probably a porn site, but apparently, Krissy hadn’t, so she said, “Oh, wow! Mom? Wouldn’t that be something!”

Trying to hide my grin, I said, “Maybe you should get the number off Phil and call them tomorrow?”

Phil continued the tease, “I’ll write it down for you, Krissy.”

“Yes, thanks, Phil,” my daughter excitedly said. “I’ll call them first thing tomorrow morning.”

Keeping his voice neutral, Tommy said, “Yeah, sis, I think you should. I’m sure you and Mom will be huge stars if you make the film.”

“Oh? Tommy, do you really think so?” Krissy said breathlessly.

“He does,” Phil deadpanned. “As do I. Real biological mother/daughter lesbian porn is one of the most popular genres there is!”

Of course, everybody except my daughter burst out laughing. Initially, I thought Krissy would lose it, but she finally saw the funny side of Phil and her brother’s teasing and joined in the laughter.

The rest of the meal passed without incident. Conversation was lively, as it typically is when good friends break bread together. Topics ranged from the AFL to how Krissy was doing at Uni to current fashion trends and even politics. We all agreed that although our current Prime Minister, Anthony Albanese, deserved his moniker of Albasleazy, overall, he and his treasurer, Jim Chalmers, were doing a good job at resurrecting the economy from the Covid spendthrift ways of the dying Morrison/Frydenberg coalition government.

Trying to get Phil’s attention, I asked, “No Siobhan tonight, Phil?”

“She has a private performance for a guy’s bachelor party tonight. Those parties can get a little out of control, and Siobhan doesn’t mind at all, if you get my drift. So I prefer to let her regular driver escort her to those events. Therefore, here I am.”

“You mean your girlfriend is going to have sex at the party?” Krissy asked disbelievingly. “And you accept that and remain her boyfriend?”

Phil patted her hand and replied, “I love the woman, Krissy. I don’t own her. I knew who and what she was when we chose to move in together, so it would be hypocritical of me to object now. Besides, I can take extraneous lovers, too, if I want.”

Caoimhe piped up, “Siobhan loves this big hunk of male that is my brother, Krissy. Loves him to death, but one man or even one man and one woman will never be enough for her because she has a lot of love to give.”

“You’re her lover, too?” Krissy asked even more incredulously. “Do you three, you know...”

“That, young lady,” I interrupted firmly. “Is absolutely none of your business! What consenting adults do between themselves in the sanctity of their homes is no one’s business but theirs.”

I glared at my daughter until she blushed and apologised.

I offered dessert, Vanilla bean ice cream with strawberries and hot chocolate fudge sauce, and all except Caoimhe accepted. Gina offered to help carry plates, so we linked arms and walked around the wall into the kitchen. This was the moment I’d been anticipating. Gina, of course, would expect me to remain her ‘submissive little Mommie slut’, but I had other plans.

As soon as we were out of sight of the dining area, she swung me around, plastered her body to mine, cupped my curvy bottom, and tongue kissed me. It felt fantastic, so I eagerly responded to her kiss by grabbing her rounded bum and pulling her close.

Breaking the kiss, Gina commanded, “On your knees, my darling Kate slut. Eat your daughter Mistress’ wet cunt.”

Ignoring her demand, I placed my hands on her shoulders and pressed down, “You know, Gina,” I lazily drawled. “You haven’t tasted my divine essence at all yet. Now seems like a good time to try it,” and increased the pressure I exerted on her shoulders.

“Obey, your Mistress,” Gina tried. “On your knees, slut Kate.”

“I think obeying your Mistress is a good idea, slut Gina, so get on yours. It’s time you submitted to the entire Muggleton family, don’t you agree? Don’t worry, though. If you’re any good at eating pussy, I’ll send my daughter in so you can service hers too.”

I expected more of a fight from my son’s girlfriend, but she suddenly collapsed to her knees and eagerly snuffled at my soaking panty. I pulled my panties aside to expose my wet slit and entrance, and Gina’s tongue danced deliciously along them. Pulling my panties further aside allowed my thick, flushed clit to pop into view, and Gina eagerly slashed her tongue over it. Holding the back of her head, I forced her mouth tightly against my pussy and ground against her nose and chin until a short but powerful orgasm rocked me.

“Good slut,” I told her when my climax ended. “I’ll tell Krissy you want to eat her out, too.”

I was about to move away from Gina and readjust my clothing when tiny hands slid into my breast cups. “That was so sexy, Kate,” Caoimhe whispered as she played with my nipples. “May I taste your slut now?”

Turning, I kissed my best friend’s daughter passionately before saying, “Of course, little one.” Then I turned to Gina and added, “Seems like someone will eat your slut cunt in the kitchen tonight. Caoimhe wants to taste you, so hop onto the bench and open your whore legs.”

I watched Caoimhe bring Gina to a softly expressed orgasm as I warmed the fudge, and then the three of us brought the plates filled with ice cream and strawberries to the dining room. Looking around, I didn’t think anyone had noticed we’d been gone for longer than it would usually take to reheat fudge sauce. However, when Gina sat beside Tommy, he saw the unmistakable sheen of pussy juice on her face. Kissing her, he pulled to his chest for a cuddle as he winked at me over her head.

’Could Tommy know and approve of me and his girlfriend playing?’ I wondered. But I ensured my face remained serene as I re-engaged with the various conversations around the table.

After dinner, everyone repaired to the lounge. I followed them and asked if anyone wanted tea or coffee. Nobody did, but they all asked for drink refills. I retrieved beer for Tommy and Phil and white wine for Gina, Krissy and Caoimhe. I put the wine back in the fridge, then gathered the dinner plates to rinse before stacking them in the washer.

I’d taken the first stack to the sink when Caoimhe followed me in carrying the rest. Grateful for her help, I smiled, thanked her, and took the plates. Caoimhe opened the washer door and accepted the rinsed items from me before stacking them into the washer. She was silent, but I could see she wanted to discuss something. I wasn’t sure if I should initiate a conversation or not, but I decided she’d talk when she was ready.

After stacking the last dishes into the machine, Caoimhe hopped onto the bench and stared at me pensively. Trying to make her feel more at ease, I nuzzled her cheek with my nose and kissed her plump lips softly. Then I patted her thighs and said, “Out with it. What’s got you blue?”

Her response came from an unexpected direction. “Your daughter’s got the hots for my brother something fierce.” Giggling, I agreed. “You’re not bothered by that?” She asked. ’Why should I be? They’re both over eighteen and consenting adults. My daughter is a beautiful young woman, and your brother is an attractive young man. Who wouldn’t want to see them get together?’ “You because you want him, too,” Caoimhe stated emphatically.

Blushing, I admitted, “Caoimhe, sure, if I weren’t happily married, I’d love to have a fling with your brother even though he’s less than half my age. But he’s with Siobhan, and I’m married, so I wouldn’t even consider it.”

Looking at me knowingly, Caoimhe said, “You’ve already considered it, Kate. You were considering it when you dressed as provocatively as you have.”

Letting my shoulders slump, I gasped, “Am I that obvious?” If Caoimhe had picked it up, so had Gina and probably Tommy and Krissy.

Caoimhe giggled, “Boys are blind to that type of thing, Kate. You know that! Pretty much the only way they know you want to bed them is if you grab their cocks and lead them there. Even then, they’re often blathering, ‘Are you sure?’”

Teasing her, I said, “And your many years of sexual conquests have taught you that?”

Caoimhe tittered and replied, “Well, I’m not solely a lesbian. A good stiff cock is quite pleasant as a change. However, I believe I’ll probably be a stern, older woman’s plaything for most of my life.”

I looked at her curiously and said, “You mean me, right?”

“Maybe, Kate,” Caoimhe stated. “You’ve got a long way to go before you’re ready to take that step. But at least you’re on that trajectory now. I don’t know what changed, Kate. But around a month ago, it was like the dam wall burst, and suddenly you were expressing your sexuality freely. I noticed it, and so did Mom and Siobhan, although Siobhan didn’t know your sexual awakening was a recent thing. More people will notice, Kate, and if you’re not careful, you will attract lovers like ants to a honey pot —your honey pot, Kate. Be careful who you allow to access it.

“I couldn’t stand it if my favourite ‘uncle’ and ‘aunty’ got divorced because it would affect your relationship with Mum and Dad. Female best friends marry male best friends and stay married forever? It’s like a romance novel, Kate. It never happens for real! So don’t go doing anything that will convince John to divorce you.”

“I’ve allowed you access to it,” I told her tartly.

“Yes, you have, Kate. And tonight, after the others have gone to bed, I will seduce your daughter, too. She won’t have any more chance of resisting me than you did. Once I’ve had my fun with Krissy, would you like me to visit you, too, Kate?”

“Yes,” I replied, moving between her spread legs and pressing my ample bosom against her. Turning my head up, I waited for Caoimhe to kiss me before adding. “Krissy’s still a virgin, so I’d prefer you to leave her alone until she’s given her virginity to the man of her choosing. But I’m only asking, not telling you. But I have a new strap-on I want to try, and you’d be perfect to practice with.”

Surprised, Caoimhe gaped at me and said, “Krissy seems so relaxed and confident with her sexuality, Kate, that I just assumed she was experienced. Of course, I will wait before seducing her.” Caoimhe thought momentarily and said, “Yet I don’t believe Krissy wants my brother as her first. She wants him, but I get the feeling it’s not until after she’s given her virginity to another. Who is the other, Kate? What am I missing?”

’Not much,’ I thought but didn’t voice. Lying, I answered, “If she’s chosen someone, she’s not telling me! As for her relaxed sexuality,” I giggled. “Well, I am her mother, and if there’s a better flirt in the country than me, I’d love to meet them!”