Chapter 4: Mother/Daughter Togetherness

That Saturday, during the evening, I got a phone call from Denise, in which she sounded, suddenly, less than excited about my upcoming visit. I would have described her as "distracted."

If I had needed any confirmation that she didn't suspect who she and her daughter were playing with, that was a good indication -- the fact was, she was probably suddenly realizing that having her brother around for 4 days was going to put a crimp in her and Lissa's fun little game. But, hearing her reticence, and wanting to be absolutely certain I wasn't the one "making this all happen" as I thought of it to my self, I volunteered to cancel my plans. And at that, she quickly backed off and said no, no, please come, it'll be good to see you.

So at that point, having just bought my tickets, I told her of my arrival time at the airport on Wednesday night, and following departure time the following Monday morning. She mustered some enthusiasm and then begged off, saying she and Lissa had some "things to do." I wonder what?

Only an hour later I got a nice descriptive email, in which they described going to a department store and Denise going into the dressing room area, which was only curtains, not even little louvered doors. With only the thin cloth of the curtains separating her from her daughter standing guard outside, and with the mirrors all around, she had felt very exposed, and admitted that she had never done anything like it before. But the area was largely deserted, and so, with Lissa "keeping lookout," she did her task. At one point, Lissa poked her head in (unnecessarily, Denise complained) to "see how things were going," but Denise protested it was just to increase her embarrassment -- which it did.

"Good job, Lissa," I laughed in my response. For Sunday, I gave Lissa a task to take a long bath or shower in the morning, then spend at least 2 hours masturbating, total, but spread out over the day preferably, and with no cumming allowed ("to get you ready for the week ahead"). And give me good descriptions. To this last part of the request, Denise wrote back, sardonically, "You just want to get your rocks off."

But later on Sunday, Lissa sent nearly a full page email in which she described her day. She took a long shower and used the "shower thingy" for a good 30 minutes and, lacking self control, she came. She asked her mom what she should do, and they decided that the best approach would be to, first of all, not count that time toward the two hours, and also, obviously, to be more careful, moving forward. But she wanted to know if I had any other "punishment" for her. My, I thought, she was playing along just fine with this.

She continued her account: she "took a break," then resumed in her bedroom around lunchtime. Her mother had popped her head in, and, she writes, "what would have been totally embarrassing just a few weeks ago seemed almost kinda natural instead." Nevertheless, she said, she had screamed "mom!" A token protest, she admitted.

But, having an inspiration, she had said to her mom, before she could disappear, "as long as you're here, bring me that dildo of yours, I want to try it." Once she had it, she shooed her mom out of the room, waving it at her like a club and laughing, then she proceeded to try inserting it. "I never imagined such a large thing going into me," she wrote. "Mom's old dildo -- the one I barrowed -- is like half the size." It only went in about half way before she felt "totally filled up," but she "had fun with it." She had to go very slowly, she explained, to keep control and not cum again. She also mentioned at this point, that, as far as she could tell, she must not have a hymen or it "broke or something when I was little, cause I've never run into anything putting stuff in there."

After dinner she put in another hour at it, this time just "teasing my clit" -- as she'd only recently figured out how to do, from reading her mom's emails to me. "I sat with my legs spread in front of my mirror, and watched myself and imagine some guy watching and got so turned on I had to stop and just sit there and breathe very shallow for like 10 minutes to keep from cumming.

I wrote back and thanked her for the wonderful descriptions. The dare for the next day was for Denise to go to a video store and to rent or buy a porno -- and she was to pick something she would be "embarrassed to admit" she liked. Then she was to bring it home and watch it with Lissa. I admitted that this was a bit like a task for both of them, but hoped they wouldn't mind.

The next evening, fairly late, I got the response. The movie Denise had picked actually shocked me a little. The title was inane but the plot was: daddy catches daughter masturbating, and "teaches her thing or two." It was contrived and had a lousy plot (standard porno fare), they both complained, but it had attractive actors.

Lissa had never actually really seen a porno video before, though she'd seen pictures in some magazines and she'd surfed online, with friends. She said she thought the men's cocks were "totally awesome" and she especially liked the "money shots" as her mom told her they were called. She said she felt incredibly horny but "behaved" and didn't masturbate afterward. Denise said that her favorite scene was of the girl actually getting spied on by her alleged father at the beginning.

Lissa's task for the next day was to spend the day braless and let at least one guy see her hard nipples through her shirt -- so no sweatshirt, this time, at least not for the whole day. Then, when she got home, she was to get naked and watch the porno again before her mom got home, and describe the point where she "loses control." So, yes, she was allowed to cum.

The tone in the email I got that evening was breathless. "I can't believe I'm doing these things," Lissa wrote. She had worn a thin but dark colored blouse with a jacket (as I'd given her permission to do) that she was allowed to deploy strategically to prevent excess viewing -- basically she was allowed to choose her "targets." She'd been veryexcited but also embarrassed by the prospect, and had been very horny all day but had procrastinated on actually letting someone see how hard her nipples were (almost the whole day, she said).

Finally, "last period, I realized I didn't have much time left and I suddenly convinced myself that it would be somehow safer to flash the teacher rather than one of the obnoxious guys in my English class. So I kind of leaned back and faced the windows (I sit on one side of the class) and let my little jacket stay open so my nipple really showed, but in a position where basically only the teacher would see."

She definitely knew her teacher saw her -- she caught his gaze and she saw that he was perhaps embarrassed and looked away rather quickly.

In a brief, separate note sent the same evening, Denise asked me to send her an IM "as soon as possible." She didn't elaborate. I wasn't sure what to make of that. But I immediately checked my IM "buddy list" and saw that she was online.

"What's up?" I sent in IM. Denise replied immediately, "We might have to take a break for a few days next week." She explained that she was going to "have company" over Thanksgiving. Knowing who that company would be, I felt it prudent to let her set the tone completely. I told her "no problem" and added that I would be traveling over the holiday as well, and therefore might not have much time to access emails or IM, anyway. Then, unable to resist, I added, "who's visiting?" Even at this point, I sometimes felt compelled to probe for confirmations of her identity.

"My brother," she replied, curtly. There was a long pause. "When does he get there?" I finally asked.

"Wednesday night," she replied. "So we can do things up through Wednesday." I again reassured her I had no problem taking a break. Then, out of the blue, she said, "you're probably wondering if I would ever do something with my brother." I pretended to be clueless. "Come on," she shot back, "I know how your mind works, Finn. I read that story you wrote, remember?"