Chapter 50: Once in a Lifetime

Robertson’s House, Komoka, Ontario

8:12pm, Saturday, March 10, 1979

When I lifted my hand from Lynette’s leg, the Energist’s isolation bubble faded. I then said to my now cognizant girlfriend, “Lynette, I think you’re mom said she has one of her homemade strawberry pies in the fridge. Isn’t that your favorite dessert?”

“Most definitely!” Lynette responded with a smile, “I’ll get it.”

“Can you snag the pie knife-serving knife from the drawer, Sweetie,” Lynette’s mom asked as we watched Lynette jump up from her chair and prance over to the refrigerator. When I turned back to Mrs. R, she whispered to me, “This is amazing, like nothing unusual just happened here.”

I simply smiled and nodded my head in response to her statement.

“Do we need clean plates or are you good with your dinner plate, Cuda?” Lynette asked as she set the strawberry pie and serving knife down on the breakfast table.

“Ain’t nothing on my plate that will ruin a BIG piece of that delicious looking pie,” I replied as I passed the serving knife towards Mrs. R.

“Thank you, Sweetie,” Mrs. R said to her daughter as Lynette slide the strawberry pie to her. After cutting the pie in half, Lynette’s mom turned the pie plate and held the cutting edge to show me she was about to cut out a quarter of the pie. With a huge grin on her face, she asked, “Is this a big enough piece for you, Mike?”

“That would be a good start,” I chuckled and held my dinner plate out for Mrs. R to set that huge slice on.

“A good start!” Lynette stated with alarm, “I think I’d throw-up, if I tried to eat that much at one sitting.”

“Hey, I’m a growing boy, remember?” I calmly replied as I set my plate down and waited for the ladies to get their slices.

“Boy, you sure are,” Mrs. R chuckled, “I bet you’ve grown two inches in the last month, alone.” She then cut the other quarter slice of the pie in half with the serving knife, so each of them would have a half of a ‘my sized’ slice.

“Yeah, it’s nice to say I’m six foot tall, now,” I replied as I watched her put the slices on their two plates.

With strawberry pie on our forks and in our mouths, the only sound was the odd, ‘umm’ or scrape of the fork on a plate as we devoured our dessert. Both ladies finished their smaller slices before me, and stared at me as I did my best to double their eating rate.

“Whaaat?” I mumbled with the last bite of pie in my mouth.

“Unbelievable! I doubt there is a spare ounce of fat on your body,” Mrs. R said as she shook her head, which caused her blonde pony-tail to gently flop from shoulder to shoulder.

“If there is any body fat on him, Momma, I haven’t found it ... yet,” Lynette chortled and slapped her left hand down on my right thigh.

“And she’s tried, numerous times!” I added, which set both ladies to laughing.

“Well, once you get one of Gary’s swimming trunks on, I’ll at least be able to see for myself,” Mrs. R stated as she picked up the pie plate, cutter and her own plate, and headed over to the kitchen sink.

“We’ll do the dishes, Mrs. R,” I said as I picked up mine and Lynette’s dishes from the breakfast table.

“Yeah, Mom,” Lynette called out as we both stood up from the breakfast table.

“Nope, nope. They’ll survive in the sink, tonight. I’ll clean up the kitchen after you and Lynette head off to your church in the morning,” Mrs. R said as she gave her dishes a quick rinse with the hand-held faucet-wand.

“I’m going to Mike’s church, tomorrow?” Lynette asked.

“You sure are,” her mother replied as she reached for the dishes I placed beside the sink. “I told Mike’s mom that you’d take him to his church in the morning. That was one of her conditions for allowing him to spend the night.”

“What were the other conditions?” Lynette queried her mom.

“If I see either of you breaking one of them, I’ll be sure to let you know,” came her sharp witted reply. “Why don’t you take Mike back to my bedroom and get him one of your father’s swimming trunks. Then, I’ll meet you out back to get the top off the Jacuzzi, please and thanks.”

“‘Kay, Mom. Come on, Cuda,” Lynette cheerfully said as hopped on the balls of her bare feet, away from the sink area.

“After you, Cano,” I replied and watched Lynette saunter out of the kitchen in her skimpy bikini towards the master bedroom.

“Smart boy,” Mrs. R offered and nodded towards Lynette and her nearly bare bottom as she made her way towards the master bedroom. “Following behind ... to view her behind,” she lightly chuckled as I looked back at her grinning face.

I tapped my forehead and winked at Lynette’s mom. When I turned back to follow Lynette, I nearly fell over the reclining chair, which caused Mrs. R to burst out laughing, and Lynette to quickly turn around to see what the commotion was all about.

“Maybe you’re NOT so smart, after all,” Lynette’s mom chortled as she watched me right myself and perform a pitiful bow in response to her and Lynette’s laughter and clapping actions.

“I’m okay ... thanks for asking,” I called out in jest, and then chased after Lynette’s laughter induced jiggling fanny.

“Can’t catch me, Cuda,” Lynette squealed as she hustled down the hallway to her parents’ bedroom.

“Y’all think,” I replied and scurried between the leather sofa and coffee table, and half-heartedly jogged down the short hallway.

“Told ya,” Cano replied as she looked over her right shoulder at me as she darted into her parents’ large master bedroom.

I let out a low whistle when I stepped into the bedroom and saw Lynette’s tight, nearly naked ass staring at me, as she was bent over at the waist, rummaging through the bottom drawer of dad’s five-drawer chest.

“You still like, huh?” Lynette said as she peered under her left arm at me.

I just raised my eyebrows in reply and leaned against the door-frame to take in the picture of pure teenage heaven as Lynette smiled back at me, and then returned her attention to hunting up some swimming trunks. She eventually pulled out a couple of her dad’s trunks, and then asked, “Plaid or basic black?” as she held them out for my perusal.

“Which one do you like best?” I countered, remembering that tonight was all about giving Lynette total freedom in her choices.

“I’m kinda fond of this plaid one,” Cano said as she held them out between her hands. “Are you good with these?”

“If you’d like me to wear them, I’m good.”

“I would like,” she replied and flung the mid-thigh length trunks to me. She quickly folded up the black pair and wiggled her butt at me as she rearranged the clothes in the lowest drawer before closing it. When she stood up and faced me, she smiled and said, “Are you going to change into them in the doorway, or what?”

“No, no,” I replied and stepped towards my amazing girlfriend. “I just can’t believe how lucky I am to have such a totally wonderful and gorgeous girlfriend.” After I leaned down to give her a sweet kiss on her soft, supple lips, I smiled at her and asked, “Are you hanging here or are you going to get the Jacuzzi ready?”

“I, uh, I guess I’ll head out this porch door and help Momma.” Lynette then moved up on her tip-toes and gave me a peck on my cheek. As she walked to the sliding glass door, she turned and chuckled, “Besides, I’ve already seen everything you’ve got.”

“Numerous times, if I recall you mentioning at the breakfast table,” I added. “I’ll be out in a jiff, ‘kay.”

“‘Kay. Just leave your clothes in that chair,” Lynette said as she pointed to her mother’s comfy looking parlor chair. “Don’t keep me uh, us waiting too long.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said as I watched Lynette pop the latch and open the glass door from her parents’ bedroom out into the screened-in porch. With the door open, I heard that Mrs. R had turned on their stereo and had what sounded like FM96’s rock music playing in the screened porch.

I quickly removed my shoes and socks, and pulled my golf shirt over my head. I tossed my shirt in the chair and made short work of my braided belt, and the button and zipper on my blue jeans. With a simple tug, my jeans and boxer-briefs dropped and I soon was as naked as the day I was born. As I reached for the red, navy and white plaid swim trunks, I caught a glimpse of movement around the dark Jacuzzi through the open glass door.

Knowing that Lynette, and her still beautiful mother might be watching me from the dark porch, my manhood twitched and slowly began to respond to the mental image of being in a Jacuzzi with two smokin’ hot ladies. I tried not to make it obvious that I was putting on a little show for them, so I remained facing the king-sized canopy bed as I bent over to step into the plaid trunks. The waist was a little tight as I pulled them up over my muscular thighs, so I did a little ‘two-stepbutt shimmy as I maneuvered the plaid trunks up around my waist.

Just as I fished out the drawstring on the trunks, I heard a loud thump, which was immediately followed by Mrs. R crying out, “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

I quickly jumped into my rescue-mode mentality at that sequence of sounds, and was out in the screened porch in less than two seconds. When I saw Mrs. R hopping on her left foot, holding her right toes, all the while softly calling herself a ‘dumb ass’ and an ‘idiot blonde’, I quickly surmised that the large and somewhat heavy Jacuzzi cover fell on her foot.

Lynette, who had by now switched from concerned child to a bemused young adult during these few seconds, confirmed my deduction when she chuckled out, “Serves you right, Momma, for spying on my man’s bare ass and package, instead of focusing on the heavy cover.”

“Lynette!” her mother hotly exclaimed as she gingerly put some of her one-hundred and twenty pounds on her right foot and stared daggers at her grinning daughter. She then turned towards me and said, “You do have a nice butt, Mike; and, well, you know.”

“I guess fair is fair,” I replied as I moved besides Lynette’s mom and held her left upper arm as she once more lifted her right foot up and began to inspect her squished toes. “Seeing how I accidentally got a pretty good eye-full of your boobs earlier.”

“Okay, okay, Mike,” Mrs. R snapped as she gently moved her big right toe in various directions. In her hunched over position, I once more got a pretty good view of Mrs. R’s breasts as her bubble-gum and hot pink striped bikini top fell slightly away from her full ‘Bs’. Because of the soft, chilly March breeze, as well as from possibly seeing my bare butt, both of Mrs. R’s brownish nipples were crinkled up and her aureoles had multiple tiny bumps on them as that sexy female tissue constricted in the evening breeze.

“Did you break it?” Lynette asked her mom as she hit the switches for the Jacuzzi jet pump and underwater lights on the control panel. She then adjusted the air flow to maximize the flow to the lower jets in the Jacuzzi.

“I don’t think so,” Mrs. R responded and then lowered her foot back onto the porch floor. “I think my pride is hurting more than my foot. I’m, uh, sorry for not looking away when you were getting changed, Mike.”

“No harm, no foul,” I replied as Mrs. R glanced down at my crotch. I’m sure she couldn’t help but notice that it wasn’t experiencing any ‘shrinkage’ (as George Castanza experienced in an awesome Seinfeld episode) in the chilly night air, similar to the ladies’ nipple condition.

“Come sit down by me, Cuda,” Lynette said as she quickly sat her butt on the Jacuzzi’s edge and swung her long legs over into the one-hundred and three degree pool of swirling water.

“Your wish is my command, tonight, M’lady,” I replied and quickly followed Lynette’s instructions. “Dang, this is ... kinda hot,” I uttered as I lowered my butt down into the deep, jetted seat.

“You’ll survive, Mike,” Mrs. R replied as she, too, swung her legs over the Jacuzzi’s edge and lowered her lovely stems and two-toned pink bikini clad body into the bubbling pool of relaxation. “Sweet Jesus, this always feels so heavenly on my old flesh and bones.”

“Old flesh and bones, my air-bubble-filled bikini bottoms,” Lynette guffawed in response to her mother’s statement. “A lot of high school and college girls would gladly trade their young figures for your old flesh and bones, Mom. I hope I look half as good as you when I’m a thirty-seven-year-old mother.”

“You are definitely NOT hard on the eyes, Mrs. R, especially in that bikini,” I added.

As I was saying that, I felt Lynette’s foot come to rest on my crotch. My girlfriend was able to easily discern that my package was responding to the womanly sights and light sexual banter. Lynette unsurprisingly then announced to her mom, “From what I’m feeling with my foot, Cuda really is enjoying the sights of us Robertson women.”

“Behave yourself, Lynette,” her mother falsely chided my grinning girlfriend.

“Do I have to?” Lynette girlishly asked as she tried to worm her foot up the leg of my swim trunks.

“Uh, yes, you do,” I replied and swatted her invasive foot, which caused her mother to laugh.

All of us settled down and relaxed in the hot, swirling waters as I began to massage both of Lynette’s feet and lower legs, which now rested over my lap. When I reached as high up on her legs as I could from my corner seat, I saw Lynette take a deep breath and ducked completely under the water to scoot nearer to my position. In the bubbling green-tinted water, I barely could make out what my girlfriend was doing submerged in the wonderfully relaxing hot liquid.

After she resurfaced beside me and shook the slightly chlorinated water from her greenish-brown eyes, Lynette grinned at me, then over at her mom. My bold girlfriend then laughed as she exclaimed, “Tada!” and lifted her soaked red bikini top out of the water and tossed it on the wicker lounger that sat near the screened door to their backyard.

“Lordy, child, what am I going to do with you?” Mrs. R said as she shook her sweat covered head at both of us.

“Well, you could do like we normally do in the Jacuzzi, and ditch that bikini top, too,” Lynette said as she mashed her naked breasts into my right arm and chest area. “It’s not like Cuda hasn’t seen plenty of thirty-year-old boobs in his past life.”

Mrs. R immediately stared into my eyes and gave me a subtle nod, which I interpreted as her fully realizing that Lynette had no recollection of what happened this afternoon with thirty-seven-year-old, Viktoriya Kharlamov. My girlfriend’s mom then gave both of us an ‘Are you crazy‘ look, before she took a deep breath and slipped completely under the water into the middle of the eight-by-eight foot Jacuzzi.

With her mom under the water at my legs, Lynette quickly giggled in my ear, “Lookie, but no touchie, okay?”

I immediately looked down at Lynette and gave her an, ‘Are you serious?‘ look. As I started to repeat my earlier reply of, “Your wish...” Mrs. R rocketed up from the water in front of us. Her action created a thin wall of water around her now topless body and added a sense of short-lived camouflage before her wet, bouncing breasts were exhibited to my sixteen-year-old eyes.

Mrs. R stood statute still, three feet in front of me and her daughter with her hands lightly resting on her sexy flared hips. Her full breasts were just beginning to show the inevitable effects that gravity had on her aging tissue. I was mesmerized by the small barely visible tan-lines, which formed a small triangle around her light brown, crinkled aureoles. Her slightly darker brown nipples were more relaxed and fuller than when I accidentally saw them ten minutes prior to this intentional display of boobage.

“Pick your jaw up, Cuda, and say something,” Lynette said as she reached up with her right hand and playfully pressed it under my chin.

“She, uh, your mom is PHAT, Cano, super PHAT, actually!” I emphatically replied as I drank in the incredible sight standing right in front of me.

Not surprisingly, Mrs. R’s face registered an immediate look of shock and disbelief when she heard that normally derogatory term.

When Lynette’s mom immediately reacted by trying to cover up her magnificent breasts and began to turn away from us, Lynette quickly spelled, “P-H-A-T, PHAT, Momma. Mike just called you, super ‘Pretty, Hot, And Tempting’, not F-A-T, fat. That’s a phrase from the future and a total compliment, Mom.”

“What ... really?” Mrs. R exclaimed as she slowly sat down in the corner seat opposite Lynette and I. “You, uh, think I’m hot and tempting, I’m not old and ... F-A-T, fat?”

“Heavens no! You’re definitely not F-A-T,” I replied and moved my hands wide apart to identify which term I was referring to. “You are absolutely PHAT, a pretty-hot-and-tempting lady. Hell, I may earn a slap from Lynette for saying this, but you are the pure essence of a ‘MILF‘, too.” I paused to let that future term resonate with Mrs. R and Lynette. Before either topless beauty could ask anything, I chuckled to my perplexed girlfriend, “Don’t hit me, Cano, but your mom is a one-hundred percent ‘MILF’ ... A Mother-I’d-Like-to-...”

I purposefully didn’t complete the term to see how both ladies would react upon figuring out the missing ‘F-word’. I was slightly surprised that it only took a fraction of a second for Mrs. R to smile and shout, “FUCK! A Mother-I’d-Like-to-Fuck! Damn, Mike! That is just wrong!”

With her brown nipples peeking out of the water, Mrs. R raised her arms up slightly above her head, only to slam them down into the water’s surface. A smile slowly appeared on her watery face and she gave me a wink before she added, “I’ll take the as a real compliment, too, Mike.”

“You should,” I replied as I allowed my tension filled chest to relax and slowly exhaled.

“Remind me to give you that slap ... later on tonight, Cuda,” Lynette deadpanned as she inched her barely there bikini clad ass up onto my lap. After she wiggled her butt against my now fully functional cock and had it mashed against my stomach, she turned to her mom and added, “His large, lower head, down here, also thinks you’re a MILF, Momma.”

“Gee, thanks for sharing that, Cano,” I sarcastically said to my girlfriend as she continued to torment me with her continuously squirming butt.

When we returned our attention to Lynette’s mother in the opposite corner of the Jacuzzi, she just shook her head at the antics of her bare breasted daughter, who had me pleasurably pinned against the Jacuzzi seat. “So, Mike, do you have any other ‘future’ terms to describe PHAT ladies or ‘MILFs that you’d like to share?”

“Hey, now!” I called and bucked my hips upward as Lynette reached behind her back and tried to worm her hand into my borrowed swim trunks. “You’re making it difficult for me to concentrate on your mother’s question with that kinda sneak attack.”

“You knew life wouldn’t be easy with m...” Lynette began to reply as she turned and wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing her bare breasts into my upper chest. My kissing her ruby red lips easily cut off her response mid-sentence.

“I would tell you two, ‘to-get-a-room’, but I’ve already said you can use my bedroom later on tonight,” Mrs. R chuckled as Lynette upped both her kissing and squirming in reaction to my kiss.

When we parted, Lynette looked deep into my steel blues and whispered, “I think I would be happy kissing you like that all night long.”

“If that’s what you want, Cano, that would work for me, as well,” I replied and gave her light peck on her cute nose.

“Ah-hum,” Lynette’s mom uttered as her daughter and I gazed at each other.

After another moment of silence, I snapped, “G-L-M. You would also qualify as a five-star GLM, Ms.Dillon.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear what that is!” Mrs. R replied and clapped her hands just above the swirling, steamy water line.

“Me, too,” Lynette added as she leaned back from me, exposing her high, firm and slippery wet breasts to my eyes. I appreciated Lynette’s movement in more ways than one. Not only did I drink in her sixteen-year-old boobs, topped by the prettiest puffy nipples God ever gave to a girl, I also got a little relief for my mashed up erect cock.

After I wiggled my butt in the jetted corner seat to create some addition freedom in my crotch, I smiled at the captivated ladies and said, “GLM isn’t, uh, won’t be nearly as popular a term as either PHAT or MILF because uh, it never was part of a popular RAP song or became a major search term in the computer porn super-highway.”

Both Lynette and her mother wore a look of confusion at my use of the term ‘RAP’ and computer-porn. I shook my sweat drenched head at their expressions, before I added, “We’ll all turn to prunes in here if you want a complete explanation of RAP music and computer porn, which made PHAT and MILF very popular.”

“No, no. Carry on with your story, please,” Mrs. R said and then leaned over to dunk her head in the hot water. She created a cascade of water streamers when she whipped her upper body and head back, before getting cozy in the Jacuzzi’s lounge.

“Okay. The term GLM was started by a group of Little League baseball coaches in Tuscaloosa where I also coached,” I said as Lynette leaned her bare breasts back against my chest. “When we had preseason tryouts for the young boys, and a few of the girls who wanted to play baseball instead of softball, all the coaches rated the kids’ skills and prepared their draft lists. Well, after a few of the coaches, including me picked the first five or six best players for our teams, we’d then switch to our GLM list.”

“And just what does GLM stand for, Cuda?” Lynette asked after I paused to give the ladies a moment to create that player draft scenario in their minds.

“Some of the coaches...” I started but was interrupted by Mrs. R, who fired off,

“Including you, Dr. Nevins!”

“Yes, including me,” I semi-groveled in response to Mrs. R’s faux annoyance. “Some of the coaches would then select the remaining players for their teams based on their GLM... ‘Good-Looking-Momma’ ratings. During these preseason draft practices, we rated each player’s mother on a one-to-five star system based on their ‘hotness’.

“And just why did you do that?” Mrs. R asked with a smirk on her wet, sweaty face.

“Well, after we drafted our first few players, the ones who would be the mainstays of the team, we knew that these last few selections weren’t going to be a huge factor in our teams’ success. So, um, some of the other ‘veteran’ coaches told me they’d start drafting their final few players based on their mom’s looks because, well, they were hot and, uh, they were GLMs!”

“I can’t believe you’d do something that sexiest,” Lynette added as she pushed herself away from my chest and gave me the evil-eye stare.

“I didn’t select any kid hoping to get into his or her mom’s pants, Lynette. I have NEVER cheated on a girlfriend or spouse, or slept with a married lady,” I calmly replied to my suddenly offended girlfriend.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs. R break into a smile and subtly shake her head at the dichotomous scene unfolding in front of her. After taking a quick glance over at Mrs. R, I focused back on the topless beauty in my lap and added, “Because these Moms would most likely bring their kid to practices, what harm was there in having a few eye-pleasing Moms, uh, GLMs sitting in the stands for an hour or two of practice or at their kids’ games?”

“Still, Michael,” Lynette huffed, using my full name to further indicate her displeasure at what I and a few local Little League coaches in Tuscaloosa, Alabama did in the late 1990s and early 2000s.

Mrs. R quickly spun around from the lounger seat in the Jacuzzi and stood up in front of both Lynette and me. I let out a small chuckle because Lynette’s mom stood there, water dripping from her exquisite bare breasts, with her fisted hands wedged against her flared hips in a now familiar ‘Wonder-Woman’ type pose.

“Be honest, DOCTOR Mike,” Mrs. R calmly said with emphasis on the ‘doctor’ before she raised her left arm up and put her hand on the back of her neck, which uplifted her already awesome breasts. She then sultrily asked, “How many stars would this hot momma have earned on your GLM rating’s sheet?”

“Momma!” Lynette cried as she spun around on my lap to face her proudly posing mother. My Little Volcano was now facing away from me and sat up perfectly straight with her legs straddled over mine as we looked at her topless mother towering over us.

“Lynette!” Mrs. R quickly responded. Her intonation and subtle eye movements conveyed a clear message to her oldest daughter, who immediately relaxed her rigid posture, and then slowly leaned her back against my wet chest. When she turned her gaze back to me, Mrs. R lowered her left hand back to her hip and calmly asked, “How many?”

“FIVE, PLUS!” I stated and wrapped my arms around Lynette’s bare stomach and gave her a small kiss on the side of her sweaty neck. “However, I highly doubt you would have still been on my GLM draft list... ‘cause any child of yours would most definitely have been a clear first round selection based on their athletic ability and skill.” I squeezed Lynette tighter and wiggled my butt slightly as I said that. “Lynette, Sweetie, you would have definitely been drafted early based upon your awesome athletic talent.”

“So what would I then be called by your masculine group of coaches?” Mrs. R asked with a grin.

“A pure bonus GLM!” I chuckled and ran my fingers up Lynette’s side, which caused her to squirm, smile and then laugh at me and her mother.

“Wow,” Mrs. R calmly said as she sat down to lie back on the lounger. She splashed her face with some of the hot water, then added, “I like that I nailed that future trifecta of hotness.”

Lynette cocked her head to the side and grunted, “Huh?” at her mother’s unique statement.

When Mrs. R looked at her daughter and me, she then reiterated, “TRI ... fecta of hotness ... oh, come on, now, Children!”

I quickly replied, “Got it!” and put my hands on Lynette’s lean waist and gave her a slight twisting action.

Because Lynette didn’t catch on and simply shrugged her shoulders towards her grinning mother, Mrs. R lifted both of her arms up and positioned her hands behind her neck, and proudly stated, “We are both PHAT, Sweetie ... but, uh, only I am a smokin’ hot...”

“Oh, jeezes!” Lynette suddenly clued in and added, “Only you can be a GLM and a...” My girlfriend turned several more shades of red in the hot Jacuzzi as she paused on that third, sexually oriented term, which described her mother to a ‘T’.

I chuckled at Lynette’s embarrassment and thought to myself, ‘Mrs. R definitely nailed that trifecta of hotness, especially with her lightly tanned breasts, topped by suck-able brown nipples poking out of the bubbling mass of hot water.‘

“Mother ... other guys would ... Like to ‘Oh! Fudge!‘,” Mrs. R expressed in a well done Ralphie from A Christmas Story, sort of way when her daughter didn’t finish her statement.

“Nice add-on! Mrs. R,” I replied as I bounced Lynette’s light-weight body a few times with my knees. I gave Lynette a kiss on the other side of her neck before I quoted the next line from that awesome movie. “Only I didn’t say ‘Fudge.’ I said, ‘THE word, the Big One, the Queen-Mother of Dirty Words, the ‘F-dash-dash-dash’ Word!‘“

“Nicely done, as well, Dr. Mike,” Mrs. R offered with an amused grin. She then let out a sigh, dropped back into the lounger seat and lazily said, “I could use a glass of wine, right now. Would you young’uns like one, too?”

“You’re gonna allow me ... us, to have a glass of wine? Get out!“ Lynette excitedly replied and began to unconsciously fidget her bubble butt back against my still stiff cock.

“Careful, Cano,” I quickly said and pushed her dancing ass forward a couple of inches to relieve the discomfort in my crotch.

“Are, or uh, WILL you be a wine drinker, Mike?” Mrs. R asked as she lowered her arms from behind her neck.

“I actually loved having a glass of Riesling every now and then ... in my past-future. Especially the Rieslings that I picked up from the Niagara wine country vintners while visiting my parents,” I replied.

“Wonderful. I, uh, just so happen to have a bottle of Inniskillin Riesling in our wine fridge,” Mrs. R excitedly said as she pulled her feet towards her boy-shorts clad butt and scooted into an upright sitting position on the lounger seat.

“We’ll go and get that bottle, and three glasses, Mom,” Lynette said and quickly stood up in the center of the Jacuzzi. I simply marveled at the view of Lynette’s near naked ass, as her Fire-Engine red bikini bottoms had ridden well up into the crack of her butt after wiggling it around on my lap.

When Lynette turned to give me a hand up from the deep, jetted seat, her mother chuckled, “For all the good that bikini bottom is doing, Lynette, you might as well not have it on.”

Just as I was about to take Lynette’s proffered hands, she quickly moved them to hips and slipped her index fingers under the thin, red strings. My girlfriend turned her head back towards her mother and said, “If you really don’t mind, I’d just as soon lose this tight, crotch rider.”