Chapter 3

I had been given a clue about how close mother and daughter were. What Beth had done, right in front of her daughter should have told me that Heather would have no trouble talking to her mother about what happened later. Just the fact that Beth had left us alone should have told me something. Of course there was another clue in there too, about how they felt about me. They now knew I had lusted after them for a long time, but I was still blind as a bat when it came to how they might feel about me. So much had happened that I think I was a little shell shocked. So I wasn’t prepared for what came next. When Heather decided her work for the day was done, and we had gotten dressed again, I was invited to dinner.

It was at this point that I learned there wasn’t anything they couldn’t talk about together.

Heather gushed about how great the painting was going to be. Then I almost choked as she described how she’d gotten my penis hard again, only to be squirted with it. I expected Beth to throw something at me and call the cops.

She didn’t.

She looked at me and said, “Two orgasms in one day. Aren’t you the lucky man.”

“I’m really sorry,” I moaned, begging for mercy. “I didn’t expect it. It just kind of happened.”

“You’re a man,” she said. “I’d have been surprised if anything else happened. You don’t know how relieved I was when I found out you weren’t gay.”

“Gay?”

“You never go out on dates, Bob. What were we supposed to think?”

“I didn’t know you thought about it at all!” I objected.

“Of course we do,” she said, putting more noodles on my plate. “Just like you’re a man, we’re women. Women think about sex too, you know.”

“Oh.” I blinked. “I guess I didn’t think of it like that.” I blinked again. “I am not gay!”

“Something for which, as I said, I am quite relieved. I suspect Heather is too,” she said, smiling.

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course not,” she said. “I trust you, and I trust her.”

“You can’t trust me,” I said firmly.

“Bob, she’s going to learn about it somewhere. At least I know you love her.” She looked at me oddly. “If anything I’m a bit jealous.”

“You’re shitting me,” I gasped.

“Language!” she warned.

“Sorry,” I said, blushing.

“I said that word when I came on his finger,” said Heather, as if she was simply talking about how I’d touched her. “Sorry,” she said, looking sheepish.

“Oh?” Beth’s voice rose an octave.

“I told you,” I moaned. “Things got carried away!”

“Is my daughter still a virgin?” she asked, her voice odd.

“Of course!” I yelped.

“Well, then at least you behaved yourself that much.”

The rest of dinner was quieter. I’d like to think it was because the food was delicious and we were intent on eating.

Eventually everyone was finished, and Heather started taking things off the table and putting dishes in the dishwasher.

“We need to do a little more,” said Heather conversationally. “I didn’t quite get finished.”

I was thinking about all the ways one could interpret “do a little more.” I looked at Beth, who may have been thinking the same thing.

“Would you feel better if I was there?” she asked.

“Yes!” I nodded.

Of course, as I was arranged naked on the couch again, and my imagination kicked in again, my cock decided to stand up and be counted again.

“I’ll take care of it this time, dear,” Beth said as she pushed her daughter toward the easel. “You just keep drawing.”

She went behind me and reached over, so that Heather’s view of my body wasn’t obstructed. Her hand slid gently up and down my cock and she whispered in my ear.

“It’s amazing how you don’t know what you’ve missed,” she whispered softly, “until you find it again.”

I groaned, and her hand squeezed me.

She spoke again, barely above a whisper. “So ... what am I going to have to do to protect my poor, defenseless daughter from the big bad wolf who lives next door?”

I just closed my eyes. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

“Oh, I hope so,” she purred in my ear.

That did it. I spurted. She didn’t even try to catch it. She just directed my penis toward the floor and said she’d clean that up later.

Twenty minutes later Heather announced she was finished. Both of us adults were amazed at how good the image was. I stood there, naked, my cock hard as steel again, and felt Beth’s hand brush my thigh.

“I’d better get going,” I said weakly.

“Yes, that’s a good idea,” said Beth, staring at the drawing.

I didn’t see Heather for almost a week. I didn’t know whether that was because her mother was keeping her away from me or not. There had been other weeks when she was busy doing teenager things, and she did have to spend a lot of time at night school. I saw Beth once, while I was carrying in groceries. She sang out a hello like nothing was wrong.

Then, Friday night, Heather showed up at my door again, walking in like she owned the place.

“How’d it go?” I asked.

“Oh, fine,” she said. “I got in. They said I’m an excellent candidate.”

“Great!” I said effusively.

“Actually, I wondered if you’d consent to model for me again.”

“Not such a good idea, Pumpkin,” I said with as much care and concern in my voice as I could put there.

“You’re so silly,” she giggled. “You think things might get carried away again, don’t you.” There was no question mark at the end of her comment. She was accusing me of being a dirty old man again.

“Well, the whole point to paying attention to history is so you don’t make the same mistakes again,” I said.

“Point taken,” she said. “But I don’t think you have that much to worry about. This time Mom will be there for the whole thing.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well I suppose that’s different, then.”

“You’ll do it?” she asked excitedly.

“If your Mom is going to be there, then okay,” I said. “When?”

“You doing anything tonight?”

I wasn’t. I rarely was. I got invited to supper again.

The thing she didn’t tell me was that this time it was going to be an oil painting ... of two people ... a man and a woman ... nude.

The reason Beth was going to be there the whole time was because she was the female model.

I was caught unaware. I mean, my guard was down, because I expected a chaperone. Instead, I got a partner in crime, so to speak.

And, by the time I got there, it was too late to object.

Beth didn’t seem to be concerned in the slightest. She had on a robe and, when Heather told me what to do, Beth just dropped it and said, “Hurry up Bob, it’s kind of cold. I’m hoping that being up against you will keep me warm.”

Of course, by the time I got naked, I was hard as stone. Neither woman seemed to notice.

The next thing I knew Beth’s naked back was pressed against my naked front. She reached around like it was no big deal and moved my erection between her legs. Suddenly my prick was encased in warm thighs.

Then Heather was there, putting my right hand on Beth’s big, soft right breast, and moving her mother’s head back and up, with one hand behind my head, so that it looked like the woman was seeking a kiss from her lover. Then she pushed my head down until our lips were almost touching.

“Oh shit,” I breathed.

“Language, Bob,” whispered Beth.

“Sorry.”

“I understand,” she said.

Heather went to work with her pencil, roughing in the image she would then cover with paint.

“Guys?” she said after a few minutes.

“What?” asked Beth without moving an inch.

“I don’t know if it’s better the way you are, or if your lips were actually touching. Kiss, please, so I can see.”

I was still thinking about the ramifications when Beth’s hand pulled my head and her lips pressed to mine.

“Hold it!” yelled Heather.

Her lips were soft and warm. There was nothing about them that said this was distasteful to her.