Chapter 15: Jenna and Mom

I wanted to see Mom right after our office encounter, but I knew she had work to do. Instead, I showered, dressed in jeans, a belt, and a T-shirt and grabbed an intriguing fantasy book full of sexy elves and naked nymphs, and started reading. The fantasy world had many great authors to choose from, but I couldn’t declare anything as truly epic unless it gave me a hard-on.

My phone rang at one o’clock in the afternoon, and I put my book aside, though images of bare-breasted women in leathers and chains still floated around my head. Jenna’s name brightened my phone’s screen, and her ringtone blared through my speakers. I accepted the call and said, “What’s up, beautiful?”

Jenna laughed, saying, “You sound like you’re in a good mood. A really good mood. What’s up with you?”

Uh-oh, could girlfriends sense when their boyfriends had gotten some action?

“I’m just happy to hear from you,” I said, trying to think quickly. “So, how’s our plan coming along?”

“My dad went back to work after dropping me off,” Jenna said. “He does work, you know.”

I laughed.

“I did pull my schoolgirl skirt up high on my thighs.” Jenna throat-moaned into the phone. “Have you ever read those dirty stories on the internet where a man drives the babysitter home, and he reaches over and touches her legs and starts rubbing her thighs and slowly works his way to her pussy while she panics and tells him to stop, but once he rubs her clit, she melts for him?”

“No,” I said, my cock growing at the playful shyness I heard in my girl’s voice, “but you’re gonna show me where to find them, and then we’ll read them together.”

Jenna laughed and said, “I felt like a girl from one of those stories. I felt so nasty—in a sexy way—I got a little wet.”

“But it’s your dad,” I said with playful naiveté as my cock thickened.

“I can tell you like it.” She giggled. “Aren’t daughters supposed to be attracted to their dads? Isn’t that science?”

We both laughed.

“I want to come over,” Jenna said. “I’d invite you over, but Daddy says you can only come over when he’s home, and you know my mother: She does everything he tells her to do as soon as he tells her to do it, no matter what it is.”

“All right, but my mom’s home, too, remember?”

“Yeah, but isn’t she in her office?”

“I have a bargain with my mother,” I said. “We can’t do anything until you’re eighteen.”

“Ooh!” Jenna said, the noise somewhere between angry and accusing.

“Or until your dad sees that his little girl needs the cock.”

“I like that,” Jenna said, then she laughed. “I mean, I like the idea of him letting us be together.”

“I knew what you meant.” I looked through my wall towards my mother’s office. “Come over. I have to let my mother know you’re here, so if I’m not downstairs, use your key to get inside.”

“Gotcha, see you soon,” Jenna said. “Love you.”

She disconnected the call before I had a chance to tell her the same.

I got out of bed and walked down the hallway to Mom’s office with my phone in my left hand out of habit. I knocked on Mom’s door and pushed it open, finding Mom sitting in her chair as naked as before. She looked relaxed when she turned her eyes toward me. I smiled, breathing in deeply. The scent of her pussy lingered in the air.

“I’m busy,” Mom said, her voice softening while her expression turned meek. “But if I have to do something...”

I groaned and said, “Jenna’s coming over.”

Mom’s face went from meek to flat.

“I’m not going to do anything with her,” I said. “I’m telling you so that you won’t worry.” I smiled. “You can hang out with us if you want to.”

Mom’s flat expression narrowed, turning into a sharp-cheeked glare. Even angry, her beauty took on a dangerous quality that made my heart throb.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I mumbled, looking down. “It’s turning me on.” I shrugged. “Look, I’m wearing jeans. Thick jeans. With a belt. Nothing is going to happen.”

“It better not,” Mom said, her voice holding an edge, but then she spoke again in a softer tone. “I know that she’s your girlfriend. I know that you two are in love.” But did she believe it? She must have, given her history with Dad. “I don’t want to keep you from seeing her, but remember your promises.”

“I will,” I said. “I do.” Then, as I looked up and allowed my gaze to take in Mom’s nude body, another thought entered my eyes. “But, if you’re worried that Jenna’s going to want me to feel her up, then I think you better come downstairs for a while. You could stay in the kitchen, and I could go and see you if the urge to touch her becomes too hard to resist.”

The flicker of a smile crossed Mom’s face.

“Jenna thinks it’s sexy to get finger-banged while our parents are around.”

“She does, does she?” Mom asked, licking her lips. She took a deep breath, that hungry, smoky look coming into her eyes. “Do I have to keep you out of trouble while she’s here?”

“Yes,” I said, nodding. “If you want to keep me out of trouble, then you have to.”

“Okay,” Mom said.

My phone buzzed with a text from Jenna. I’m downstairs, it read.

“She’s downstairs,” I said. “We’ll see you soon.”

I slipped out of Mom’s office, my cock growing hard as I went to meet my girlfriend.

Jenna stood in the foyer, dressed in her pleated schoolgirl outfit, complete with saddle shoes and knee-high socks, and no, our high school didn’t make us wear uniforms, but many of the girls pretended it did. Easily, every day, a third of the female student body dressed in the smallest schoolgirl uniforms they could find. Jenna’s eyes found mine the moment I appeared at the top of the stairs. She smiled, glowing and radiant, and her eyes dropped to the front of my pants.

“Someone is happy to see,” she said, holding out her arms for a hug.

A smile spread my lips, and I laughed, shrugging and jogging the rest of the way downstairs, my cock continuing to stiffen as my jeans rubbed and bent my prick in interesting ways. I slid my arms around Jenna when I reached her, and she hugged me tightly, her arms tensing as she pushed her stomach into my hard-on.

“Uh,” I groaned.

“Are you going to kiss me or what?” Jenna asked. “Don’t tell me that that’s off the table.”

Was it off the table?

“Quickly,” I said, pressing my lips to Jenna, but without adding my tongue.

“Aw,” she said, pouting.

“This is only the first week.” I grabbed her hand and took her into the living room, where we sat on the left side of the back couch facing the TV. “We can hold off for a week or two, or three. Our parents can’t keep this up forever. They will give in.”

“Maybe so, but I want you now.”

We kissed again, but I broke it off as soon as Jenna’s tongue came out to play.

“You’re really fucking hard,” Jenna said, looking down at my crotch. “Can I jerk you off?”

I groaned again.

“Please, Daddy?” she asked, laughing. “Imagine if I said that to my dad, just as slutty as I said it to you? Daddy. Oh, Daddy.” Her tone made my cock pulse. “If my dad can’t tell how horny I am after he hears that, then I don’t know what to do next.”

“You could sit on his lap,” I whispered as we got comfortable on the couch. I lay on my left side, while Jenna lay on her back, my left arm beneath her head and my right arm across her body, my hand on her hip.

“That’s so wrong,” Jenna said, giggling. She pushed her thigh into my crotch, rubbing me back and forth. “But, I’ll do it if you’re there watching me.”

She smiled, then opened her mouth wide and uttered a small shriek. We laughed, and that’s when Mom walked across the upstairs landing. Jenna cringe-smiled, but she lifted her left hand and waved at Mom.

“Remember the rules,” Mom said, looking at my hand on Jenna’s hip as she walked downstairs. “It’s good to see you, Jenna.” Mom had changed into a small white cotton T-shirt without a bra, her titties bouncing and her nipples hard as she walked downstairs, and she also wore a pair of posh, peach cotton lounge pants. Her shirt left her belly button and sides exposed, and she wore no socks on her little feet.

“It’s good to see you, too, Mrs. Hornsby,” Jenna said. She bit her lower lip for a moment before sitting up and speaking again. “Mrs. Hornsby?”

“Yes?” Mom asked, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“If my dad was okay with everything...” She looked to the side as pink bloomed in her cheeks, followed by crimson. “Would you be okay if Mark and I were ... you know ... having sex?”

I raised my eyebrows. I’m sure my dad was fine with it, but Mom? I knew that she was worried about what Mr. Mason would do, but I couldn’t remember her saying if she was okay with us having sex in the first place.

“You’re young,” Mom said to Jenna. “But, with some conditions, like condoms and an unbreakable, sex-only-at-home policy, I believe that I’d be okay with you and my son sleeping together.”

Precum left my balls, my cock flexing and ass tightening as the unexpected pleasure rushed through me.

“Thank you,” Jenna said, dropping back down to the couch.

I was still lying on my side.

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Mom said, “but you never know when I’ll be back. Behave yourselves, else neither of you will be visiting each other’s homes for a while.”

“Okay,” I said.

“We promise,” Jenna said.

When Mom had had enough time to reach the kitchen, I said, “You’re blushing.”

“Well,” Jenna said, play-smacking my chest. “It’s easy not to blush during an argument, but we weren’t arguing.”

“I want to kiss you right now,” I said, looking down at her button-up shirt and pleated skirt, the hem resting on her upper thighs.

“Then do it.” She nibbled her lower lip. “Kiss this teenage girl.”

I laughed, saying, “And that’s why your dad gets upset.”

“But it’s so hot,” Jenna whispered. “Doing what’s wrong.”

“We can wait a little while longer.” I squeezed Jenna’s side. “I know we can.”

Jenna growled, then smiled and said, “Maybe you can’t touch me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t touch myself.”

“I think you’re right,” I said. “And I won’t stop you.”

“Right now?” she pouted.

“Anytime,” I said.

“Right now,” she said, no longer asking a question. She placed her left hand on her stomach and ran it down her body to her skirt, where she played with her waistline before slipping her hand down to the center of her hemline. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“Show me,” I said, smiling as I looked down at her skirt and removed my hand from her hip, laying it on my side so that I had an unobstructed view of her body.

Jenna pinched her hem and pulled upward, stopping at the bottom of her crotch and pretending to reconsider until I growled. She giggled and continued to pull her skirt upward, and then the soft, golden flesh of her tender pussy came into her view. Her cleft lay closed together, her skin smooth and perfect, the triangle of her mound pressed against the insides of her thighs until she spread her legs and gave her pussy room to relax. She dropped her skirt around her waist and smiled at me, waiting.

“The prettiest pussy in high school,” I whispered, looking down at her smooth beaver.

Jenna laughed. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” I said.

“And how many high school pussies have you seen?”

I smiled, rolling my eyes and chuckling.

“Mine is all wet on the inside,” Jenna purred. “I can feel my juices dripping out of me. I like how you look at my pussy.”

“How do I look at your pussy?”

“Like you’re hungry,” she said, low and throaty. She rubbed her thigh against my crotch. “Like your cock is hungry. Like, if you wanted me right here and now, then I couldn’t stop you even if I wanted to.” She nibbled her lower lip. “Like your mom couldn’t stop you if you wanted me.”

I growled, then said, “And that turns you on?”

“Yes,” Jenna said. “Do you wanna touch it for me?”

“Yes,” I whispered, looking toward the kitchen, but I couldn’t see over the back of the couch and down the shortcut hallway. “I always want to touch it.”

“I always want you to.” Jenna wiggled her body. “Please touch it, Daddy.”

I growled again.

“Do you think if I show my dad my pussy,” Jenna whispered, her cheeks reddening, “it’ll make him let you fuck me?” Jenna’s blush deepened. “Maybe you should tease your mom.”

My cock released a river of precum that swelled my shaft. “You’re a bad girl,” I moaned, leaning down and pressing my forehead against hers. “You’re going to get me in trouble with my mom.”

“You’re going to get me in trouble with my dad,” she whispered, tilting her head up to place a kiss on my lips. “But it’s so fucking worth it.”

“Let me see what my mom’s doing,” I whispered, returning her kiss, lip to lip, but without the slip of my tongue. “I want to be able to taste your pussy on your fingers when I get back.”

“Okay,” Jenna said in a soft voice. “Hurry up.”

I growled again, kissed her lips again, pushed myself up and over her, kissed her lips one more time as she lifted her ass from the couch and pushed her uncovered pussy against my cock. Groaning, I slid over her, rubbing my body against hers, stood, and Jenna reached up to rub my cock through my jeans. I moaned through clenched teeth, having to pull myself away from her caress. I headed to the kitchen as Jenna slipped her left hand between her coltish thighs.

In the kitchen, I found Mom standing at the kitchen island with her back to the hallway. Her thin pants clung to her butt. I imagined that she had not bothered to protect her little pussy with a pair of panties. Next to her rested a bottle of chardonnay, and she was sipping the wine from the glass she held in her right hand.

“Are you behaving yourself?” Mom asked with a tremor in her voice. “As you promised?”

“I am,” I said, walking up behind her. “It’s hard, though. Jenna wants me to touch her.”

“You can’t.”

“I know,” I said, “but I need to touch someone right now.” I licked my lips, thinking, Please, God, don’t let me fuck this up. “Jenna’s in the living room with her skirt around her waist, so I came here because I need to hold a pussy in my hand right now.”

I had expected Mom to stiffen, but she trembled instead. Still sipping from her glass of wine, she reached back with her left hand, hooked her thumb into the waistband of her lounge pants, and pushed them down her ass until the waistline lay just beneath her butt cheeks. My cock throbbed. I loved my mother’s in-between ass. Not flat, not bubbly, but with a gentle curve and the pear shape that made the bottom sides slightly wider than her hips. I loved how her crack swept away at the bottom, opening a small doorway between her thighs that led to the golden curve of her tender folds.

“Do it,” Mom whispered. “Hold my pussy, quickly, before Jenna wonders what’s taking you so long.”

I extended both hands, placing my left on my mother’s side. The warmth of her body burned into mine. My right hand went between her legs, pushing between her thighs, my hand wide enough to make her spread her legs for me. She uttered a small grunt at the swiftness of my hand pushing between her limbs, and then I was holding the soft folds of pussy flesh in my fingers and palm. Wetness greeted me, slick and slippery and hot to the touch. Mom had a furnace between her thighs, and dripping from its insides was the nectar of life—the sweetest tasting pussy juice I had ever drunk.

The finest I’ll ever have, I thought, knowing that no woman in the world, no matter how special to me she became, could ever top the taste of my mother’s honey. I bet it’s like that for every young man who has ever tasted their mother’s pussy.

“Uh,” Mom moaned as I pushed my middle and ring fingers into her pink hole, spreading her tightness and laying my outer fingers against her thighs. “Oh, Mark, oh, baby—quickly!”

I gritted my teeth and increased the tightness of my grip on my mother’s left side. She bit back a low moan. I had my middle and ring fingers inside of her, with my palm facing upward. I bent my wrist so I could cup the bottom of her ass crack in my palm, then I curled and swished my fingers around her insides until she was shaking her head and muffling her whimpers with her left hand.

“Go,” Mom whisper-hissed at me. “Go to Jenna, and don’t touch her.”

“Can she touch herself?” I asked.

“Mark,” Mom said, a sigh trying to fight through the pleasure in her voice.

“If I’m not touching her, then it’s okay, right?”

“No,” Mom whined.

“I can’t stop her,” I said, pushing my fingers up Mom’s creamy snatch to their last knuckles and then some, forcing her onto her toes.

“Uh,” Mom grunted in a light, surprised tone. “I’ll join you then. Mmm, fuck! Go—oh, god—go, now, damn it!”

I slipped my fingers from my mother’s cunny. A glaze of her wetness coated their length, so I ran them through her ass crack, making her shiver when I tickled her asshole. She pushed her rosebud back against my fingertips. Then, I wiped the rest of her juices off on the crotch of her cotton pants.

“See you soon,” I said, sweeping Mom’s long hair to the right and kissing the back of her neck behind her ear.

She shivered. I left her in the kitchen with her pants below her ass and her legs spread, her pussy a sopping wet mess.

As soon as I entered the living room, the sweet, unmistakable scent of Jenna’s pussy filled my nostrils. She lay on the couch, on her back, with the soles of her feet together and her knees spread wide apart. She had her skirt up high on her stomach while her left fingers had disappeared between the pink line of her slit, her right fingers massaging her clit with wide circles that made her butt squirm.

“Oh, baby,” Jenna whisper-moaned, “will you eat my pussy for me?”

“Shh,” I said, though she had spoken low enough not to be heard by anyone but us. I walked behind the couch, slid over the back, and wedged myself on my side next to Jenna. “We have to be careful.”

“Touch my pussy,” Jenna whined, biting her lip to keep from getting too loud. “Feel how soft it is for you. Feel how wet I get for you.”

I shook my head, groaning on the inside.

“Please, baby, for me,” Jenna whispered. “My pussy needs it, Daaa-dee.”

“Oh, you bitch,” I said, reaching down with my right hand and grabbing the inside curve of her right thigh, her muscles firm with the springiness of youth. I squeezed her hard, making her hiss, and while my insides tried to force my hand between her legs, I fought back the desire to hold my baby girl’s pussy in my hand. “Soon. I promise. Soon.”

“No, now,” she pouted like the little girl she was. “Now-now-now.”

“Fuck,” I growled, squeezing her thigh harder.

“Yeah, Daddy,” Jenna moaned. “Hurt me.”

“Let me taste your fingers,” I hissed at her.

Jenna swung her left hand around her thigh and reached for her pussy, pushing her two biggest fingers deep between her slippery crease. She arched her lower back off the couch when her fingers wouldn’t go any further into her cunny, her butt wiggling, the digits on her swollen jewel turning faster and harder than before. With a wet sucking sound, she pulled her fingers from her pussy and lifted them toward my mouth, pausing about six inches from my lips.

“Are you sure you want a taste?” Jenna asked, whispering. “I mean, don’t we have to be careful? Don’t we have to wait until my dad says it’s okay for you to fuck me?”

“Now you turn into a tease,” I whispered, groaning and leaning forward.

“Uh-uh.” Jenna pulled her hand away from my mouth and shoved her honey-drenched fingers between her lips. She sucked, making wet sounds and humming as though she were satisfying her hunger. “Go down there and get a taste if you need one so badly.”

I groaned, closing my eyes and said, “I—”

“Ahem,” Mom said and not from behind the couch but from in front of us. She had walked around the dining room and into the living room, and she had a full view of Jenna lying on the couch with her skirt on her tummy and her pussy out in the open, saying hello to anyone who cared for a peek. I knew that that was what my mother could see, and I hadn’t even opened my eyes to check.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” I said, keeping my eyes closed.

“Jenna,” Mom said, “you need to pull your skirt down and cover up your virginity. It doesn’t matter how pretty it is; you should leave it to Mark’s imagination.”

“Yes, Mrs. Hornsby,” Jenna said, shifting on the couch as she adjusted her skirt.

I kept my eyes closed, my breathing rising while I fought to keep calm.

“And Jenna,” Mom said.

“Yes?”

“You should start wearing panties when you’re in my home.”

“Yes, Mrs. Hornsby,” Jenna said.

I opened my eyes. Jenna’s entire body had turned bright pink. Breathing deeply to calm myself, I turned my head and looked at my mother.

“Do you know what you two need?” Mom asked, and before we could answer, she continued with: “A swim. A dip in the pool will cool you off. Go and change into your bikini, Jenna, and meet us in the backyard.”

“Yes, Mrs. Hornsby,” Jenna said, sliding off the couch and hurrying to the door. She left, leaving me alone with Mom.

“I didn’t touch her,” I said. “I promised that.”

“You didn’t?” Mom asked, crossing her arms beneath her breasts.

“We pecked each other on the lips a couple of times.” I shrugged. “Smooches. It’s the same kind of kiss grandma would give me, puckered lips and nothing else.”

“Not even passion?” Mom asked. “I don’t believe that you’d kiss Jenna the same way you’d kiss your grandmother.”

“I...” I said and shook my head.

“Come here.”

I stood and walked over to Mom, unable to speak. My heart sped up the way it would when I was a kid whenever I couldn’t tell if I was about to get an ear full of my mother’s anger or not. I had fingered my mother. I had licked her asshole and eaten her pussy—I had made my mother come, and I had had my cock in her mouth, yet Mom was still able to be just my mother.

“Your Jenna is a bad girl,” Mom said as I stopped in front of her. “Coming into my home without her panties and then trying to tempt my son with her young pussy.”

Holy shit. Mom’s words made my cock tingle, and the tightness beneath my jeans pressed down on my prick hard, forcing me to flex my cock to fight the discomfort.

“I didn’t do that for your father until I was sixteen,” Mom whispered. “And a half.”

“There’s a lot of experience in that half,” I said.

“Shut up, smartass.” Mom licked her lips. “Give me your right hand.”

I lifted my hand, and Mom took it. She looked at my fingers while pressing her thumbs into my palm and her fingertips into the back of my hand. For the next minute, Mom turned my hand back and forth, her eyes drifting over every line of my digits, then she folded all but my middle finger down and looked me in the eye with a sudden meekness. She opened her mouth in a small ‘O’ while leaning forward and sliding her lips over the tip of my finger. Her eyes never left mine.

“Umm,” I moaned as Mom’s tongue swirled around my digit. She lowered her mouth over my finger, never breaking contact eye contact with me. She took me down to the last knuckle, then withdrew, then moved down again, then withdrew, picking up speed as her lips tightened around on my digit width.

“Mmm, mmm, umm, mmm,” Mom moaned around my finger, leaving her saliva behind. She pushed my ring finger alongside my middle and sucked it one into her mouth. She changed the angle of her sucking, rolling her head to the left and right, varying the depths of her head-bobbing and the pitch of the hungry sounds that left her throat while never breaking contact with my eyes.

My cock tightened, and my balls constricted. A buzzing sensation swam through me as my heart sped up, and precum dripped from my knob. Mom sucked my fingers for a minute, though time had stopped for me, and in my world, nothing existed but my mother and her slow, seductive finger sucking.

Mom slipped her lips from my fingers and whispered in a trembling voice, “I believe you. The only pussy I can taste on your fingers is mine.”

“Mom,” I said, sighing. “We should go upstairs.”

Mom’s lips pulled into a sudden, amused smile, and she said, “We should go upstairs and change into our swimsuits. Jenna’s coming back soon, and judging by the pictures she lets you take of her, she’ll be wearing next to nothing since I’m here.”

My eyes widened: Jenna!

“We need to change,” Mom said.

“We?” I asked.

“Yes,” Mom said, “I’m going to chaperone your date.”

I went upstairs and returned downstairs faster than Mom had, wearing my gray board shorts and nothing else. Jenna arrived a minute later, wearing a loose white T-shirt over her bikini bra and a beach towel around her hips. As soon as she entered the house, she un-tucked her beach towel and showed me the front of her small bikini panties—it was a red thong that just allowed the outermost sides of her fat labia to show.

She spun around, whipping her towel to her left side and showing off the thong running between the firm cheeks of her bubble butt. The nylon was thick enough to cover her crack and the inward sloping sides of her cheeks. It narrowed at her perineum, then widened against her pussy, holding her muff-meat so tightly that it outlined her every cunny fold. She reminded me of those Japanese massage videos where some perverted masseuse drips oil all over the pussy of the woman he was about to molest.

“That’s hot,” I said as Jenna spread her legs and bent over at the waist.

“Do you think your mother’s going to get mad?” she asked.

“Don’t know,” I said. “It’s a bikini, and she said to put on your bikini.”

“I know,” Jenna said, turning around. “She didn’t say a bathing suit, or one-piece—which she knows I have—she said, ‘Bikini.’”

“As long as we’re not fooling around.” I grabbed Jenna’s hand. “Let’s get outside before my mom comes down.” I pulled Jenna through the house. “Oh, and she’s going to chaperone us.”

“You’re kidding!”

I laughed as I led Jenna into our backyard.

By the time Mom had entered the backyard, we were already swimming. Jenna’s top matched her bottoms, a deep red bra that darkened as the water seeped into its fabric. The cups sat low-cut on her heavy breasts, leaving all but her nipples and areolas bare, and it wasn’t big enough to hide the sides of her ample tits, their perkiness keeping them high and tight to her curvy yet toned body.

“What do you think she’ll say about my top?” Jenna had asked me before my mother had entered the backyard.

“You are a bad girl,” I had said, standing arm’s length away from her in the rippling water, my gaze drifting from the naughty glimmer in her eyes to the rock-hard nubs capping her tits. They weren’t as long as Mom’s diamond cutters, but they were thicker, and my mouth watered as I thought about taking one of them into my mouth.

Our concern for my mother’s reaction to Jenna’s bikini faded away the moment we saw my mother. She was wearing a pair of sunglasses, had her lotion in one hand and her towel in the other, and was wearing something that could have been a bikini if companies made bikinis out of dental floss.

Attempting to cover my mother’s breasts were black strings with triangle cups that left three-quarters of her tits bare. The tiny bra strings wrapped around her sides, connecting in the back, and below her waist, she wore a pair of matching panties, with two nylon waistbands riding her hips while a tiny, triangular patch of cloth slid vertically down between her legs, cupping her inner lips and barely covering the inward folds of her outer lips—which left so much of her pussy meat bare. Half of her bright, blonde landing strip lay above the low-slung waistline of her bikini panties, and Jenna’s eyes widened at the sight of those sunlight pubes.

“You two go ahead and cool off,” Mom said as she sat in a lounge chair to the right of the pool. “I’m going to enjoy the sun.” She set her towel down. “Behave yourselves.”

Mom uncapped her lotion and poured some into her right palm. She rubbed her palms together, then rubbed the lotion into her skin, starting with her arms and shoulders, and then her chest, stomach, and breasts, her fingers cupping the exposed portions of her tits with a soft caress. Mom did her thighs next, opening her legs and running her hands between them, from her ankles to the sides of her pussy and up to her hips, pulling the strings of her waistband outward and slipping her fingers beneath them, seeming to pay extra attention to lotioning her entire body.

Holy snatch attack, Batman, I thought, the sound of my voice a whisper between my ears.

“Jesus,” Jenna said when Mom stood and did her backside, though she stood facing us. “Is she trying to make us uncomfortable?”

I shrugged, grabbed Jenna’s hips, and turned her sideways to Mom; then I looked to my right, where Mom lay with her legs spread and the swells of her pussy pressing against her G-string. The exposed portions of her labia flowed into her thighs with a natural beauty.