You will rarely meet a mother who looks better than her beautiful teenage or twenty-year-old daughter, but I know this family and they were the inspiration for this story.
Next I have to do something for National Nude Day and I will be entering a literary contest for the first time.
As always, all characters involved in sexual activity are eighteen years of age or older.
** ** ** **
I remember the first time I met him.
I moved to San Diego right after high school. Although I can’t start my freshman year before September, I already have a good job and need the money.
As an added benefit, my employer offered membership to a fancy local gym, but I couldn’t afford it. I was doing chest presses when a class ended in the studio upstairs. About two dozen women and a few men came down the stairs, behind them several women chatting animatedly with a skinny brunette girl. Next to her stood a young woman with the same color hair and an equally impressive figure. Both were wearing body-hugging bodysuits of the same style but different colors. As a group of women walked into the room, I heard enough of the conversation to know that the older woman was taking a Pilates class.
After the group dispersed, two women were standing at the front desk talking to the waiter when the younger woman noticed me checking them out. Defeated, I gave her my best smile. She smiled and said something to the older woman, who turned and held my gaze for a moment before turning her attention to her companion. They left after a few minutes.
After I finished lifting weights, I went to the front desk. The older woman was Theresa Hollins. She taught several classes at the gym. The youngest is her daughter Jenny, a high school student. The waiter made it clear I wasn’t the first person to ask. I checked the schedule; there would be a few days where Theresa would be taking step lessons.
** ** ** **
I was walking downstairs when they came in through the front door. Of course they didn’t mind being mistaken for mother and daughter, they looked alike and had similar hair styles, although Jenny’s tights were longer and her tights were a different color. I introduced myself and Mrs Hollins introduced herself and her daughter and said she hoped I enjoyed the class.
I soon discovered that not only did they look alike, but they both had upbeat, positive personalities, like aerobics instructors, and, as they seemed, they were in pretty good shape, motivating everyone, encouraging everyone, making everyone work harder except for a few.
** ** ** **
After class, I and a few others went downstairs with Teresa and Jenny, and offered them bottles of water as the crowd dispersed. Teresa declined, saying she had something to do and told her daughter she could stop by to pick her up on her way home.
Jenny said sure, she could drink.
Two days later we shared a bed. After some time, I told a woman that I loved her for the first time in my life.
** ** ** **
I’ve never been to a health club class, prefer to work out with friends or alone, but don’t know how to stop exercising without annoying Mrs. Hollins or if that will give me an excuse to look at my, who can say no to, my girlfriend’s sexy mom, covered in a thin layer of sweat and tanned in a tight bodysuit?
** ** ** **
We’d been seeing each other for about six weeks when, while holding a spoon – we’d just blocked each other out from the whole world on the cot in my studio apartment – he said, “You think my mom is hot, but you don’t. Think so.
There’s no point in denying it. Jenny and Mother certainly knew, and neither of them seemed offended. Mrs. Hollins was excited from day one that I was dating her daughter.
“Yeah, apparently some of your good looks are natural.”
“Some?”
“It took a lot of sweat and dedication, the hard work you and your mom put in.”
He put my hand to his mouth, kissed it and said, “Nice defense.” Then, with a vague smile, he looked back.
what did I say?”
“I know everyone thinks Mom is attractive. Most people sneak, secretly look at her and think they’re being sneaky. We don’t pay attention, but we do notice. Other people stare at her and drool. Not nice at all.”
I didn’t say that in addition to liking young sexy women like her, I also liked older sexy women, and that I slept with a few at home. Instead, since it was clear that not only was she okay with it, but she liked it, I said, “Yeah, I like watching your mom. Why did you bring up being interested in a threesome?”
She laughed and said: “Why do you think I like women, and why are men attracted to threesomes, especially mothers and daughters?”
I made a mental note – she didn’t say no, didn’t get angry – that this must be some sort of biological or evolutionary necessity, and dodged the first question by kissing her. She kissed me back and reached for my cock.
Soon I was on top of her, shaking the fragile bed, and she was writhing and moaning all over, clawing at my back and digging her fingers deep into me. Not that she wasn’t always interested, but if I didn’t I missed something this time more than ever.
The conversation about her mother excited her.
** ** ** **
My phone rang, no name. I thought about letting it go to voicemail, but something about the number was familiar, and I reached out. One digit difference from Jenny.
“Hello.”
“Hey Michael, it’s Theresa. Jenny gave me your number and we thought it would be cool.”
“I never complain about that beautiful girl who has my phone number. How can I help you?”
After hesitating for a moment, but without objection, he said: “Jenny has said a lot about you. Her father wants to meet you. Can you come home for a drink, and then we’ll have dinner.”
“Sounds good. When?”
“Weekends 7:00.”
“I opened the door, where are we going?”
“Morgan’s.”
** ** ** **
I checked Morgan’s internet. Coat and tie? I don’t have a coat or tie, and my bank account doesn’t allow me to buy them. While looking for a local consignment shop, I realized I didn’t have Jenny’s home address, we always met in town. I considered texting Jenny, but satisfied with the tone of my conversation with Mrs. Hollins, I called her back.
“Hello Michael.”
He had saved my number in his phone’s memory.
“Hey beautiful, I just realized I don’t have your address.”
After a pause, she said, “What if I tell my daughter that you call me ‘good-looking’ and ask for my address?”
“Jenny and I couldn’t agree more about how beautiful her mother is. Is she here?”
“Yeah, do you need my help finding him?”
“Only after further flirting.”
“you suck.”
“My condition is going to get worse, where is the address now?”
“I’m sending you a message, this is my daughter.”
As she took the phone away from her mouth, I heard her say, “Your bad boyfriend is on the phone. Tell him he needs a cold shower.”
** ** ** **
This is my first time going to the suburbs. After checking in with the rental police at the community’s front gate, I drive my classic car onto the shady streets and wait to be towed. It seems that only shiny new Mercedes, BMWs, Cadillacs and Lexuses, and the occasional Porsche or Maserati, can legally drive in this neighborhood.
My phone directed me to a circular driveway at the end of a dead-end street. Beautiful house. I parked behind a black Range Rover, got out, and rang the doorbell to see how Jenny’s father was doing. Jenny talks about her mom all the time—they’re more best friends than parents and children—but she rarely mentions her dad. When she did, her attitude was positive but flat, with vague assurances that he was “fine.” Still, I imagined him as a bookend to his wife and daughter: in perfect shape, handsome, smart, sharp.
Jenny opened the door, kissed me on the lips and said, “Hey dear, get ready to meet your family.”
She looks good. Her loose-fitting dress was held in place by spaghetti straps that fell to her chest, stopped just below her cleavage, and cinched at the waist before hanging to the floor in a series of elegant pleats. What is most striking, however, is the range of colors on the butterfly’s wing pattern, orange and yellow, green and blue.
“That’s a beautiful dress,” I said, and she put her hand in mine, then turned, the bottom of the dress swirled around, and we walked into the house.
In the living room, with the huge cathedral ceiling, ornate furniture and the back window looking out onto the ceiling-to-floor pool, was Mrs. Hollins, tall, off-the-shoulders, slouchy, in a rainbow of colors: chartreuse, pink, magenta.
Although neither outfit is overtly sexy, mother and daughter dress alike when they go out in public. And, although they are careful about their appearance, this is no accident. I said, “Mrs. Hollins, you are very pretty. Your clothes are just like your daughter’s. They are pretty. I like the colors.”
“Thank you,” said Mrs. Hollings, and as a man entered the room she said, “Michael, this is my husband, Tom. Tom, this is Michael, Jenny’s lover.”
I wondered if he was a good fit for his wife and daughter. He was the same height as his wife, or maybe a little shorter, and at this point his heels were raised an inch above her, making him squat, though not fat. “Nice to finally meet you, Sir,” I reached out and took his hand and studied his face. His look is friendly, not like your best friend – you want him to be smart, strong and supportive – but he is friendly, a man who gets along with everyone and everyone likes a personal human face, you wouldn’t ask for it. Take another $250 off the price of the car because you want him to do well and know he would never cheat you.
That’s what he did. He sold cars and owned a dozen dealerships. Not top-notch stuff, he didn’t sell a car to a neighbor, but he sold a lot of cars to somebody.
My impression was confirmed during dinner. Mr. Hollins doesn’t have the cynical wit of his wife or daughter, hiding it behind a positive and optimistic personality. He was exactly what he seemed, a nice guy, a punchline, a guy who would laugh at your jokes no matter how bad they were, if you met the wrong guy, he wouldn’t care.
I am a little different.
I focused on his wife and daughter, made eye contact and held it. They responded by looking back at me.
I caress him, starting from his shoulders, arms, to his waist, cleaning the food crumbs from his face.
When a woman went to the bathroom I grabbed her chair and when she returned I did the same and was rewarded with a kiss.
I told the mother and daughter how nice they looked. They thoroughly enjoyed the compliment and thanked me.
The women responded, moving closer, flipping their hair and running their tongues over their lips.
Mr. Hollins seemed very nice throughout the entire process and was happy to allow me to entertain the ladies.
Back home, Mr. Hollins excused himself to tour the facility, and Jenny said, “Mom, I know it’s late, but I want to go to a party on campus. I know it’s late, but can I go out?” You’ll take good care of me.
This is the first time I hear about a party.
Mrs. Hollins said, “Dear, you didn’t mention the party. Where is the party?”
“I don’t remember, one of those frats,” he looked at me, “which frat baby?”
I said, unconvincingly: “Delta stuff.”
Mrs. Hollins said, “Delta or something?”
She knew what was happening.
“Yeah, Delta and things like that, those Greek names are running into each other.”
She turned to her daughter. “It’s a frat party and it’s almost curfew time, what will your dad think?”
“Come on, mom, if you say it’s okay, then he will do it too.”
Mrs. Hollins turned to me and said, “Will you promise to take good care of him?”
“Trying my best, I will make sure that no boy comes close to her.”
“I’m sure of that. Well, if you’re going out with some college kid, I think we need to be considerate. If it’s too late, if you need to spend a night out on the town with friends, just message me.”
Mr. Hollins returned, asked for and received permission. At the front door, I thanked Mr. Hollins for dinner, bent down and kissed his wife goodnight, and he held my hand and whispered in my ear, “You better use protection.”
I stepped back and said, “Of course, thank you Mrs. Hollins.”
** ** ** **
On the way back to my house Jenny said, “So what do you think of Dad?”
“I’m a little surprised. I thought he was in good standing, like you and your mother.”
“Dad was very self-indulgent. He was involved in a dozen civic groups, was always going to meetings, ate poorly, and never had time to exercise. He said it was good for business.
“Well, you can’t deny his success and the house is beautiful. He seems like a really nice guy.”
“He was, and you took advantage of it, flirting with me and Mom in front of him.”
There was no anger in her voice. Then her bra was placed on my shoulders. She had hidden it under her skirt.
“Two beautiful women, it’s hard to resist being mean. Your dad doesn’t mind.”
“No, Mom and I tired him out from running around. He was happy when someone entertained us.”
She placed the panties on my legs and said, “Remember, we have to send a message to tell Mom that I was in a car accident with a friend.”
** ** ** **
At my apartment, it didn’t take long for Jenny to remove her panties and bra and get completely naked. It took me longer, but not much. I inserted one, then two fingers into her wet pussy.
“Oh my god, you’re so attractive.”
She fingered my cock, squeezed it and said, “It’s not hard to do when your boyfriend’s cock is like this, so nice and hard.”
“After tonight, how is that even possible?”
“Yes, that’s what you like, hanging out with two women and flirting. You’re so shameless.”
I moved my fingers inside her, kissed her, and said, “Me? You asked for it, hot mom, hot daughter, wearing basically the same clothes. That’s not clothes, that’s foreplay.”
She rubbed my semen on the tip of my cock and said in a puffy, innocent voice, “Dear, these clothes are beautiful, long and loose. Sex is on your mind.”
“You make everything hot.”
“What about my mother?”
“Yes, it must be hereditary.”
She put her hand on my tool and said, “Seriously, if she asked really nicely, would you fuck her? I can hear it now: ‘Fuck, Michael, Jenny and Tom are gone. Give me some hard cock, I need it so bad, my husband doesn’t fuck me anymore and you’re so much bigger than him and by the look of delight on my daughter’s face when she comes home from her date you know how you take advantage of that.
I said, “I don’t know Mrs. Hollins. I never cheated on Jenny.”
She got on all fours and spread her legs, exposing her glistening penis, looked over his shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, my daughter won’t mind. I know that horny woman and this makes her even hornier. I” m a mother who needs a cock, fuck me hard like you fuck my daughter.
I said, “Well, if it makes Jenny happy, who am I to argue?” I knelt down and put my hands on her waist. Jenny reached back, positioned my cock at her pussy, said, “Let me do it,” and in one long, slow motion, she sighed with pleasure as her pussy opened, flexed, molded into me, moving in sync with me. She buried her head on her arms and said, “This is what I want, a young man’s big cock,” she arched her back, lifted her head and said, “Fuck me, fuck Jenny’s mom, fuck her hard.”
I pulled out until only the head of my cock was inside her, then stopped and thrust into her, shaking the fragile bed. As I did so, she pushed me, wiggled her ass, clenched her sex muscles, and said, “I see the way you young men look at me and it makes my pussy so wet.”
We made love, my bed creaking and rocking back and forth, the sound echoing off the walls of my little room.
“Have you ever imagined having a threesome with me and Jenny fucking you at the same time?”
“Two hot mouths on my cock, filling both women with my dick, drenching them with my cum, yes.”
“That’s it, that’s it, Michael, imagine it, imagine my fingers in my pussy while I watch you fuck mom.”
I imagined my cock pounding into her, hard and stiff like the piston of a racing car. Our words were lost, replaced by gasps, moans, screams, but the image in both our minds was the same: I was sexually abusing Mrs. Hollins’ daughter under her lustfully approving gaze. Jenny, mesmerized by this perverted shared fantasy, balanced on one hand and reached for her clitoris, I moved my hands to her breasts, twisting the small, hard nipples; we made love, we screamed and made animal sounds in the hope that one day the neighbors would forgive me. As my testicles tightened and twitched inside me, I moved my hands to her waist, held her tightly and burst, filling her with all the semen that had been fermenting in my testicles all night. Jenny joined me, screaming wildly with orgasmic pleasure as I soaked her most private parts.
** ** ** **
The next morning, I made coffee using a Technivorm Moccamaster drip coffee maker. Jenny’s gift is the most expensive thing in my apartment. She said she could tolerate my room—if I kept it clean—but she insisted on good coffee. She turned around, reached out to me, realized I wasn’t there, then, smelling the coffee, looked up and said, “Hey dear, can you pass me a cup?”
I handed it to him and climbed onto the bed, our bodies pressed together as he tasted the beer.
“Fortunately, you won’t be annoyed by beans anymore.”
“I already know what’s important, you.”
She took another sip and said, “Speaking of it, you forgot to remind me to send my mom a text message last night to let her know I was staying with a friend.”
“You passed out. It felt embarrassing to wake you up, so I woke you up myself.”
She picked up her phone, read my message, nodded with satisfaction and said, “I look good, am good in bed, considerate and kind to my family. I am a lucky girl.”
“Almost as lucky as I am. I love you, baby.”
She smiled and said, “Are you sure you didn’t just fall in love last night?”
I said, “Yes, I am sure. Whose idea was it to dress alike? Everyone here is staring at you two.”
“We both have it. Although she won’t admit it, Mom loves attention and she loves it when you young people pay attention to her at the gym. Dad has health problems, and when he lost the ability to perform, he started doing this. See Mom as a man, treat her more like a friend than a wife.”
“She knows she doesn’t have to go, she could have an affair; her looks and personality would cause men to line up. Even Dad’s doctor – Pig – is interested in her, but she loves Dad and doesn’t want to embarrass him.”
She looked away for a moment, lost in thought. I put my hand on her shoulders and kissed the side of her head. After a while, Jenny continued. “She kept it all to herself for a long time, but when I became sexually active, and especially since I started seeing you, she talked to me about it and it became very clear. At first I was surprised she came this far, but I realized she lived a kinky life and loved talking about sex, and I thought she might have a little crush on you.
“Would that bother you?”
“No.”
It was a casual reply; I pushed.
“You dug it up, didn’t you?”
“Can’t say I’m not happy. A high school girl doesn’t mind a college guy or a guy her mom likes to show off. It makes it easier.”
I said, “During our threesome last night, were we talking about fantasy or anything you were interested in?”
