As With Most Days (Story)

As With Most Days (Story)

Postby luiscypher » July 13th, 2011, 8:27 pm

Story is now being posted on ASSTR: http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Luis ... hMostDays/
As With Most Days is part of the larger Gynyphagia Chronicles world, as are all my stories: http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/LuisCypher/

AS WITH MOST DAYS
(From the Gynophagia Chronicles)
by Luis Cypher

Part 1

WEDNESSDAY, October 4, 2219

As with most days, Martha Cokely slid from her husband’s embrace at five thirty, doffed her nightgown and shuffled into the shower.  Her 5’6” frame was still lithe and slender even after three pregnancies, eight daughters and thirty six years.  The shower took only moments to begin steaming.  She slid in, allowing the hot water to stream over her slender back and gently flared loins.  She luxuriated under it for only five minutes; washing away the salty perspiration from last night’s ravishing.

Before she dried herself, Martha applied generous amounts of her home-made lemon-rind mineral oil to her entire body, taking note that she needed to wax.  She slowly and carefully mounted herself on the wall mounted Enema Master™ to evacuated her bowels and bladder.  In front of the mirror, she blow dried and combed her lush light brown hair as jutting, pink tipped pointy breasts bobbed in creamy splendor, offset by the light tan lines she’d carefully allowed herself over the last few years.  Only after all this did she use a towel to dry herself, and the tiled floor.  The end of the morning ritual favored a critical assessment of her laugh lines and smile lines as seen through hazel eyes.

“Hideous!” Martha snorted a whisper to herself.  But, no time to fret longer, the morning’s tasks would not wait.

Panties, Bra, Slippers and her pink polyester  snap front house dress went on in moments, leaving her legs bare almost to her hips.  Tomorrow was Thursday.  Tomorrow she’d treat herself to a professional waxing rather than the agony of doing it herself.

Back in the master bedroom, Don was leaning up on an elbow, his sleep puffed eyes barely open.

“Hiya Legs,” He purred.

“Morning Honey,” She smiled at the pet name he’d used since they’d first met.

She had been a freshman, barely sixteen at the University of Nevada at Elko.  She’d favored short skirts and high cut blouses with a very bare midriff.  It had all been a rebellious statement to her parents.  She’d been accepted there as a tagged student.  That meant a free education so long as she wore a hunting tag that made her fair game for the jocks and high achieving students that made up hunters in most universities these days.
“Nice Legs,” came a cooing male voice.  The source of that voice was a bear of a young man standing six foot three, with sandy blonde hair and a big grin.  He looked like a jock, and dressed as he was in the slate gray and gold school cardigan, dressed like one too.

Martha’s hand had gone instantly to her precious tag, knowing a hunter would have taken it on that day if he could.  Even though the boy made no moves to get close enough to take it, Martha remained on her guard.

“Shouldn’t’ you be chasing cheerleaders, Mr. Jock?”

He laughed heartily in a manner that infuriated her.  “I’m not a jock,” he said, then approached, and offered a meaty hand. “Name’s Don.  I’m not a hunter either.”

He’d been gentlemanly.  The Arizona native was a junior mechanical engineering major and by the end of that week, Don had charmed Martha out of her cloths, and her virginity.  Two years later, Martha Rene Finney became Mrs. Donald Cokely, and ten months after that, she delivered Linda, Mary and Naomi, her first of three litters.

Martha leaned onto the bed and kissed her husband’s cheek.  Don, unsatisfied, forced a liplock Martha accepted.  His massive hand had Martha’s forearm and was pulling her down.

“Honey,” Martha said as she nibbled on his ear.

“Mmm,” he grunted.

“Brush your teeth.”

“Mm,” he snorted. “Spoiled sport.”

Martha smiled and kissed his nose. “I need to get the girls up.”

Don flopped back onto the bed and threw the covers over his face.

“Tell me when they’re gone.”

“Right,” Martha said. “I guess Tom Harding will be in charge of fixing your precious excavator today.”

“Rrrr!” Don growled from under the blanket, and then threw the covers off.  “Damn you!  Damn you!”

Martha grinned at him as he pulled himself out of bed, and left the room.

Down the hall were two more doors.  One opened to the girls’ bathroom, the other, to the girls’ bedroom.  It was quarter of six when Martha opened the bedroom door and flipped the light on.  That light revealed three sets of bunk beds, the triples were up against the wall with the double in between them.  The triple on Martha’s left was completely vacant.

“Time to get up!” Martha said to a chorus of groans.  Four brunette heads and a blonde stirred as Martha crossed the hall to the girls’ bathroom.

Switching on the light, she snorted.  Towels on the floor, a tube of toothpaste oozing onto the counter between the two sinks, a puddle next to the commode and a whole lot of hair on the floor of the four head shower.

“Ugh,” Martha sneered, and headed back to her daughters’ room.  “That bathroom better be clean before you go to school or you’re all grounded for a week!”

“I’m already grounded,” protested Tina from the bottom middle bunk.  Her blonde twin, Dana, was already up and dressed, with a frightened look on her face as she stared incredulously at Tina.

“Don’t get smart with me, young lady!” Martha snapped arms akimbo. “You’ll get an extra week if it’s not clean!  Now move!”

Martha strode down the hall and the stairs heavy footed and fuming.  Ever since her first litter had gone off to Elko to attend college Tina had grown progressively more rebellious.  It had only been a couple of months, and Martha did not want to imagine what antics Tina would come up with next.  The latest episode involved Poppyfield High Football team and Principal Daniels.  Tina had flashed her pantiless bottom to all of them on Monday.  It was the type of thing Martha would have expected of Naomi, youngest of her first litter, but never happened.  Naomi was the fun child.  She was the one who made everyone laugh and always had the family entertained.  Martha missed her terribly.  Tina simply couldn’t pull off Naomi’s charm, and Martha wished she’d stop trying.

The stairs dropped Martha directly into the kitchen where the coffee maker was happily percolating and the timed griddle had dutifully preheated.  From the refrigerator, Martha retrieved a stick of butter the stainless steel pitcher with the pancake batter she’d mixed last night before bed, and quickly poured her husband’s breakfast onto the griddle.  She was standing at the sink, enjoying her first cup of coffee when done lumbered in wearing his coveralls.

“What was the commotion?” He asked, accepting the cup Martha offered.

“Hmm,” Martha finished swallowing. “The girls left a mess in their bathroom.”

“Oh,” he flipped his own pancakes. “Did I hear Tina giving you lip?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.  She’s out of control,” Don said. “You should have let me give her that spanking on Monday.”

“For flashing?”

“No, for being a bitch to you.”

“I was a bitch to my mother as well,” Martha said, half embarrassed and half proud of the memory.

Don shrugged. “I don’t like her mouthing off,” he flipped his pancakes on a plate and set it down on the counter. “Not to my woman.”  Don grabbed Martha’s arm and pulled her close. “Now where were we…?”

“Oh!” Martha exclaimed as his enormous hand landed on her rump.  He smothered her with a cherry mouthwash flavored kiss that she yielded to with a desperate passion, then drew away as she felt him slip her panties down.

“What are you doing?” Martha half protested.

“You were a bitch to your mother and you need to be punished,” Don smiled as he carved a wedge of butter and lifted the hem of Martha’s pink polyester snap front housedress.

“What? Oh!” Martha exclaimed her sphincter puckering as Don forced the cold butter into her.

“Honey,” Martha protested. “The girls will see!”

“They’re upstairs,” Don countered.  He opened the front of her dress roughly and deftly unclasped Martha’s bra, releasing those jutting creamy breasts and caressing the wide cleavage between them.  He then ran his hand down her belly to her slightly furry mons, finding her cleft with a finger.  A glimpse of Don’s massive erection protruding from his fly was all he allowed her.  Don suddenly had her flipped over like a pancake; face down on the kitchen table with her hips at its edge, that stiff member demanding entry into her buttered orifice.  Martha forced herself to relax and accept him.  She was rewarded with that intense invasion of her body that left no doubt regarding who commanded.

Even as her husband pleasured himself, he again found her swollen clitoris with a finger tip.  She instantly climaxed at his touch, as she always did when taken this way.  In short order she could feel his seed hot inside her rectum, his fingers attacking her simultaneously causing her to gush.

Suddenly exhausted, Martha laid for a moment on the table till done gathered her into powerful arms and held her.  It was this simple thing that told her how much he loved her.  Her body was weak and helpless, but he would always protect her.  It was as close to being raped as Martha had ever come and it satisfied any fantasies she had along those lines.  It also heightened them.  She’d have to find time to masturbate at some point today.

Giggles from the stairwell brought Martha to the present.  She composed herself quickly and checked to make sure Don had done likewise, noting she’d gushed all over his front.  There was no help for it.  It was the only set of coveralls he’d brought home this week… he was notoriously bad at that.

“Sit down, Honey,” she ordered her ravisher.  When he complied she placed his breakfast before him. “You can come out now.”

Hesitantly, Tina led two of her youngest, Melanie and Corey from behind the wall that hid the stairs from the kitchen.

“Morning Daddy,” cooed Corey and Melanie.  Tina went to the refrigerator shaking her head with a Cheshire grin and collected three bowls of sliced fruit.

“Is the bathroom clean?” Martha challenged.

“Sandy kicked us out,” Corey said. “She said she can do it faster by herself.”

Martha served them sweet creamed coffee.

“I guess,” Martha sighed. “Where’s Dana?”

“She’s primping for Bart Haskell,” Tina declared.

“John Haskell’s boy?” asked Don.

“I think so,” Tina said. “He’s quarterback for the football team.”

“One of the guys Tina showed her butt to,” Melanie said through a mouthful of banana. “I think it inspired him.”

“Inspired?” Don asked.

“They won on Monday’s game,” Melanie said.

“Inspired…” Don repeated.

“Hm…” Tina cocked her head, in a gesture of acknowledgement.

“They don’t play on Mondays!”

“It was a makeup game, Dad,” Tina said. “They were supposed to lose.  Someone had to give them incentive.”

“Be careful, little girl,” Don smiled. “Or you’ll end up on a stick.”

“I thought football players only ate cheerleaders,” Tina shot back.

“Don’t get smart with me, Tina.  I’m not as forgiving as your mother.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means watch your mouth and have some respect,” Don growled. “The only reason you didn’t get a spanking on Monday is because your mother begged me not to.”

Tina’s two younger sisters’ heads were going back and forth between sister and father like windshield wipers as if they watched a tennis match.

Don finished his breakfast just as Sandy and Dana finally made their appearance.

“Morning Daddy,” Dana said through glossy pink lips.

“Morning, sweetheart,” said Don as Dana took her seat and Sandy served her a bowl of fruit.

“So,” Don said. “Dana, what’s this I hear about you and Bart Haskell?”

Dana dropped her spoon with an incredulous expression on her face.

“Tina!” Dana protested. “You promised!”

“I want to meet him before you go out with him,” Don said.

“He hasn’t asked her out, yet,” Tina said.

“Well,” Don said. “If he does, I want to meet him first.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Dana said, brown eyes downcast.

“That goes for the rest of you as well,” Don declared. “If a boy asks you out, I want to meet him.”

“Yes, Daddy,” came the chorus.

“Honey,” Martha said. “It’s quarter of.”

“Right, gotta go,” Don stood, kissed his wife, accepted the travel mug she offered, and bolted out the door.

After he was gone, Martha poured the girls’ pancakes onto the griddle.

“Why were daddy’s coveralls wet?” Sandy asked.

“Uhm…” Martha said as Tina, Melanie and Corey giggled.  Martha smirked at them. “It’s my fault,” she said simply.  Tina would undoubtedly relay the whole scene to her two absent sisters on the way to school.

“Okay,” Sandy accepted with a shrug.”

“Mom,” Tina asked. “Can we call Naomi and the others today?”

“Sure,” Martha said. “But only after your homework is done and only so long as it’s before seven.”

“I still don’t get the whole hunting tag thing,” said Corey.  “Why do they have to wear them again?”

“Because,” Sandy said. “If the hunters take your tag, you’re cooked.”

“I know that!” said Corey. “But why?”

“Because,” Dana said. “College is expensive and boys pay for the sport.  Girls that pay don’t wear tags.  Girls that don’t pay have to wear them.”

“Mom didn’t wear a tag,” Corey protested.

“Yes I did,” Martha corrected.

“But Gramma and Granpa are rich!” Corey said. “Why didn’t they pay for you?”

“That’s a long, long story, Sweetheart.  Maybe I’ll tell you all about it someday.”

“And you made it through…”

“I only actually went two years,” said Martha. “I did get an Associates in General Education, though.  I was married to your father and pregnant after that.”

“Why?” asked Melanie.

“Why what?”

“Why did you marry Daddy?”

“She liked his cock up her ass,” Tina blurted, and Corey spit her coffee.

“Tina!” Martha snapped, glaring. “Corey, go change your blouse.”

“But I’m not done!”

“Now!”

Martha turned back to Tina, still glaring, but not knowing what to do.  Instead of talking, she collected empty bowls and plates and went to the sink.

“Youre such a bitch,” she heard Dana whisper to.  Martha could imagine Tina shrugging at that as Martha briskly washed the dishes.

By seven thirty, the five girls were finally leaving, and Martha managed to get over Tina’s humiliating remark.  On the porch, she collected the Poppyfield Press Democrat and waved to Jeanine Phillips next door.  Jeanine was sending her youngest brood of three, all high school seniors, off to school.  The three joined Martha’s own daughters as they crossed the street clucking like hens… now the neighborhood would know all about Martha’s kitchen table…

“What time should I come over?” Called Jeanine, her top heavy body wrapped in a yellow terrycloth robe.

“Give me an hour,” Martha called back. “Can you call Chelsea?”

“Sure thing,” Jeanine said. “See you then.”

“Hi Martha!” Called Ron, Jeanine’s police officer husband.  He wore his beige uniform well in spite of his ample belly.  He had a friendly face of Irish extraction under curly red hair with smiling blue eyes.  If Martha had not been so in love with her own husband she’d certainly had accepted one of Jeanine’s many invitations to share their bed.  Martha watched as Ron drove off in his black and white squad car, then smiled and gave another little wave to Jeanine as she slipped back inside.

The first batch of soiled sheets was in the washing machine and the kitchen was done.  Martha sat down with the morning paper, flipping to the entertainment section.  “Jenna’s Dish” had become her favorite column.  Jenna Wells, Playpen E-Girl, and sister to the last months Playpen Playmate was, once again, dishing on her favorite topic: her overachieving sister Samantha Wells who had become something of a journalistic sensation over the past few months before posing nude for the Playpen centerfold.  Martha had only started reading when the phone rang.  The caller I.D. identified her last surviving sister Beverly calling from Wildwood, NJ.  Martha sighed and picked up.

“Hi, Bev.”

“Hi Marty.  Have you talked to Mother since Saturday?”

“Nnno…”

“Mother called me last night.  Guess where she was!”

“I give up.”

“Denver!”

Denver?”

“Denver!” Beverly exclaimed. “And guess what she was doing.”

“Why Denver?”

“Mother and Dad are driving cross country, so don’t be surprised if they sho9w up.”

“Awe, shit.  You are joking, right?”


“No.  Well, I don’t know she’s coming to see you.  I didn’t ask, and she didn’t say, but it’s very likely.”

“Why?”

“Because Mother and Dad were shopping for a spit!”

Martha snorted an incredulous laugh. “They went to Denver to buy a spit?”

“Well,” Beverly said breathlessly. “Apparently there is this big catering trade show that’s running this week.  I swear, Mother sounded breathlessly orgasmic as she told me.”

“So do you,” Martha observed.

“Shut up!  It was really creepy!  Can you imagine?  Mother getting excited like that?”

“Well,” Martha said. “I guess I can expect them then… you think Dad’s decided to finally pull the trigger on Mother?  She’s got at least three years left.”

“Well, I don’t know.  But if I were you, I’d expect them to show up and invite you and Don in person.  How are the girls?”

To Martha’s own astonishment, she painted a complete word picture of the occurrences this morning.

“Sounds like Tina needs a good ass plugging,” Beverly observed.

“Don isn’t Dad,” Martha said. “I’m not sure he’d have her even if she were culled.”

“Really?” Beverly said. “Leo would be all over that.  And don’t forget, Dad will probably be there soon.”

“Bev, c’mon!  You still buy that story?”

“All I know is that Sylvie was spitroasted just after she said Dad fucked her ass.”

“Well,” Martha said. “Neither of us was there, so we’ll probably never know.  How’re your girls?  And how’s Josh?”

The conversation went on for roughly thirty minutes more till the doorbell rang.  Martha checked the clock.  It was nearly nine thirty already.

“”Come in, the door’s open!” Martha called. “Gotta go, sweetie,” she said into the phone. “Love you!”

“Call me if Mother and Dad show…”

“Will do.  Kisses.”

Martha turned to see her guests, Jeanine and Chelsea.

Jeanine was a top heavy dark brunette of Italian extraction with straight hips and a generous backside.  Her curly dark hair framed a heart shaped face with lustrous dark eyes and full lips.  She stood shorter than Martha at 5’4” and much shorter than her companion.  Jeanine Philips was thirty eight and had lived in the house next door the entire twelve years since Martha and Don arrived and four before that.  Her youngest litter had been born in Poppyfield.

Chelsea, on the other hand, was tall and lanky.  Even her neck seemed extra long.  At 5’9” with perky little breasts she’d have made a great runway model, especially since she kept her blonde hair very short, almost in a crew cut that left her long neck exposed.  Her elongated slender figure was just beginning to show five months of pregnancy, Chelsea’s first. .  Her fair skinned face was flushed with maternal warmth.  The pregnancy thing obviously agreed with her eighteen year old body.  Both Martha and Jeanine suspected she’d do it more than most.  She was cousin to Jeanine’s husband and married to one of Don’s co-workers.

“Hi, guys,” Martha breathed, relieved to be off the phone with Bev.

“You okay?” Chelsea asked.

“Yeah,” Martha nodded. “I just found out my parents might show up…”

“What’s your stepmom like?” asked Chelsea.

“Mother.  Overbearing.”

“Woah!  Your mom is alive?”

“Martha’s from New Jerseay,” Jeanine said.

“So?”

“So, in New Jersey women can live to age sixty if they breed enough girls.”

“Really?”

“My mother had seventeen daughters,” Martha offered. “She’s almost fifty seven.”

“Wow!” Chelsea said. “Can I meet her? I’ve never seen an old woman before.”

“You’ve led such a sheltered life,” Jeanine giggled. “It’s so cute.”

“Right…” Martha looked around. “I’ll go change.  Uhm, Chelsea, can you grab the magazines off the coffee table?  I’ll be down in a minute.”

Martha ran upstairs to change into her beige bikini, grabbed a pair of paper scissors, her little-d tan-guard lotion and joined her friends on the deck behind the house.  The yard in back was communal with the neighbors.  There were no fences, and the yard divisions were marked only by concrete walkways that ran up the sides of each property, to the meandering, tree lined path that separated the properties on Rose Avenue from Violet Way.

The three women applied their tan-controlling lotion without ceremony.  It would keep them from burning in the hot Arizona sun.  Then they began clipping coupons from the stacks of magazines.  It was their Wednesday Morning Ritual that culminated in the trip to the supermarket in the afternoon.

“I have to get waxed tomorrow,” Martha said. “I was thinking of going out to have it done.”

“I should too,” said Jeanine. “Celia’s?”

“Celia’s girls are brutes,” Chelsea observed. “I like Yukio’s better.”

“I agree,” said Martha.

“Yukio’s it is, then,” said Jeanine. “Anyone need a Rembrandt cherry Mouthwash?”

“We do!” Martha said.

“My fave,” said Chelsea.

“Dipbs.”

“Yech,” Jeanine said. “All yours!  I don’t see how you can stand that sickly sweet stuff.”

“Don loves it.”

“So,” Chelsea said. “Did Donald tell you about the new secretary?”

“Nnno…” Martha said.

“No kidding!  Frank said she’s a real bitch.  Don hates her!”

“Really!”

“Her name is Morgan.  Blonde, very pretty, knows it.  At least that’s what Frank says.  Anyway, she’s tight with Tom Harding.”

“Tom’s tight with anyone in a skirt that will give him the time of day,” Martha said. “His wife pays for it… poor Susan.”

“Yeah,” Chelsea observed. “That’s true.  He came on to me last week…”

“Took him that long?” Martha said. “He’s getting lazy.”

“Anyway,” Chelsea ignored Martha. “This Morgan chick has been giving Frank and Don a hard time with Paperwork.  Frank said Don thinks she needs a good butt fucking.”

Martha laughed. “Do you know how big Don is?”

“I’ve noticed his package,” smiled Jeanine. “Often.”

Martha smirked. “You can’t be at all uptight and take him in.  You really have to relax!”

“Martha!” Jeanine said. “And how would you know?”

Martha smiled and clipped another coupon.

“You tart!  You’ve been holding out on me!  Oooo, that’s a juicy tidbit to tease Ron with.  And I don’t even have to make it up!”

“What have you been making up?”

“Well,” Jeanine grinned. “Last week I told him we watched his Playpen Playmates in Peril DVD and we all masturbated each other.”

“You did not!” Martha flared.

“I did!”

“What’s ‘Playpen Playmates in Peril’?”

“You know Playpen Magazine, right?” Jeanine asked.

“Yeah.  The one with all the naked women in it.”

“Right.  They Playmates are their uber-models.  The top of the top…”

“Yeah, I’m not completely ignorant…”

“Anyway.  They rape them, film it, and one of them gets spitted on the DVD”

“Oooo!” Chelsea said, an excited expression on her face. “I’d like to see that.”

“Really?” Martha asked. “They actually rape these women for entertainment?”

“Not only that, but they all agree to it in advance.”

“Wow…”

“Every time Ron watches it, he promises that I’ll get spitroasted.  I’d hate to just go down to the butcher shop.  I wish we lived in California where the license is less expensive.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Maybe next year,” Jeanine said. “You’re both invited, by the way.”

“Or you could move to Jersey,” said Chelsea.

“No,” Martha said.  “You have to be born there and birth all your children there to qualify for extended life.  I don’t even qualify.”

“How many sisters do you have left, Martha?” asked Chelsea.

“Just one.  Beverly is a year older than me and has ten girls.  She gets to live to age forty four if she likes.”

The doorbell rang.

“Oh god!” Martha said. “Not already.”

“Your folks?” Jeanine asked.

“I hope not!”

Martha felt her heart flutter as she stood and entered the house.  At the front door, Martha looked through the peephole to see two figures she dreaded  seeing.

“Oh damn,” she cursed, then opened the door.

Before her stood a balding man, about sixty who was just her height.  He had a very large nose, cauliflower ears and a slight pudge in the gut.  He wore a crisp white dress shirt, brown old-man pants, a bowtie and thick, thick glasses.  The only things he had in common with Martha’s husband were his enormous hands which gave him an alien like appearance.  The woman at his side wore a simple, but obviously high quality navy blue dress with a string of pearls and pearl earrings.  She still had that slight figure Martha had inherited, but the dark hair was going gray, much grayer than the last time Martha had seen her, and the lines in the woman’s face had become just that much more pronounced.  But her ice blue eyes were still sharp and steady, and were drinking in everything she saw.

“Surprise,” the pair chorused.

“Mother!  Dad!” Martha forced a cheerful smile. “What a surprise!”

Mrs. Finney stepped up and offered Martha her cheek which Martha dutifully kissed before the older woman pushed past her daughter.  Mr. Finney hugged his daughter and kissed her cheek.

“Well,” said Chester Finney. “I had better find us a hotel to stay at.  You obviously don’t have room for us here.”

“You have to do that now?” Mrs. Finney asked, obviously annoyed.

“You and Marty have things to discuss,” said Mr. Finney.  “I’ll  be back later.”

“Okay,” Martha said… wishing to herself he’d take Mother with him.

Mrs. Finney watched him as he returned to his antique Jaguar, then turned to Martha.

“You’re all greasy,” she said.

“I was, uhm, sunbathing.”

“Really?” Mrs. Finney said. “Then let’s repair to the back yard so you can continue your efforts.”

Martha started to protest, but thought better of it.

“Alright.”

Martha led her mother to the back deck where her two friends continued to clip coupons.

“Jeanine, Chelsea, this is my mother, Mrs. Finney.”

Jeanine raised a brow at the “Mrs. Finney” name, as Martha left out her mother’s first name.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Finney,” Jeanine said. “Won’t you join us?”

“How thoughtful, dear.  Martha, won’t you fetch me a chair?”

“Certainly,” said Martha.

When she returned with a folding lawn chair, Martha found her mother chatting cordially with her two guests.

“I was just telling your friends how quaint a place for a garden party this yard would be,” said Mrs. Finney.

“I’ve never seen one here,” Martha said.

“When Ron and I moved in we had a couple.” Jeanine remembered. “Then they raised the license fee, so it’s been a long time.”

“That’s a pity,” said Mrs. Finney. “This is ideal.  I rather like the tree lined path.”

“How was Denver?” Martha asked, amused that her mother flinched at its mention.

“Cold,” Mrs. Finney said. “I was unimpressed.  I hear Aspen is nice, but we came straight here.”

“I heard you went shopping.”

“Yes, we did,” Mrs. Finney said stiffly.

“Buy anything?”

“As a matter of fact, we did,” Mrs. Finney said. “You know how your father loves gadgets.”

“Does Denver have good shopping?” asked Chelsea.

“Mr. Finney thinks so,” said Mrs. Finney.

“My father’s a sucker for the latest toy,” Martha observed. “Beverly called and told me about the trade show.”

Mrs. Finney laughed nervously, her face reddening a bit. “Oh, yes, that…”

“Well,” Jeanine said gathering her cache of coupons and magazines. “I have to make up my shopping list.”

“Me too,” said Chelsea.  She stood and hugged Martha. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yes… my cupboard’s empty.  I need to shop.”

Jeanine moved in, putting an arm over Martha’s shoulder.

“Call me if you need rescuing,” Jeanine whispered in Martha’s ear, the fingers of her free hand brushing Martha’s mound, sending a shocking thrill through Martha’s body as Mrs. Finney looked on in shock.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Finney,” Chelsea offered her hand, oblivious to the spectacle.

Mrs. Finney, still sitting in the lawn chair was slack jawed, eyes darting from Jeanine to her daughter.

“What? Oh, yes, nice to meet you as well, Chelsea.  Jeanine.”

As her friends were leaving, Martha gathered her own things with a sense of foreboding as her mother stood.

“I need to powder my nose,” said Mrs. Finney.

“Alright,” said Martha nonchalantly. “Oh, uh,” she added when her mother moved not at all. “Inside to the left.”

Martha put on her pink polyester snap front housedress, parked her things on the kitchen table and went to the cupboard for tea.  By the time her mother reappeared she had the kettle on the stove and two cups and saucers from the never used Wedgewood tea service Mrs. Finney had sent as a wedding gift.

“Such a quaint little house you have dear,” observed Mrs. Finney, waiting for Martha’s invitation to sit. “Your manners are slipping.”

Martha sighed, but extended no invitation, and continued to slice lemon wedges.  Mrs. Finney finally sat.

“Two  lumps?”

“You remembered,” Mrs. Finney smiled. “Your neighbors are nice enough.”

“Chelsea just moved in next door six months ago.  She’s a newlywed.  And yes, Jeanine and I love her to death.  Jeanine was here when we arrived.  That was when my youngest were a couple of years old.”

“Yes, I know that,” said Mrs. Finney, accepting the offered tea. “The setting has a certain appeal.  I can see why you’re so comfortable here.” Then the older woman sighed. “That dress, however, must go.”

“It’s comfortable.”

“I can see that.”

Martha sighed again, and sat.

“How are your friends at the bridge club?”

“The same, mostly.  They’re having a competition.”

“Oh?”

“Well, the senior members are.  Last round is on Sunday.”

“So you’ll be heading back soon?”

“I had not planned on it.”

“But you love playing…”

“True,” Mrs. Finney said. “But I’d rather be here.”

“Mother, you’ve avoided visiting us since I was married.”

“Things change.”

Martha smirked. “Time heals?”

“In part; I’ve long since forgiven you for running off to Nevada.”

“I wanted to see what I could do on my own.”

“You risked getting spit-roasted by strangers.”

“I was old enough to make that choice.”

“Benjamin would have married you.”

“Oh, yes.  Didn’t he cull Delia before their children turned ten?  So he could marry his secretary?  Then he did her.  Bev told me the whole story.  He always had a roving eye, Mother.  He had no love for anyone but his own pleasure.”

“Your father and I went to Delia’s barbeque.  She seemed very happy.”

“Mother, you’ve lived longer than I will.  I have four years, on the outside.  Delia only got twenty seven.  You’ve met all nineteen of your grandchildren.  I won’t meet one of mine unless my girls get busy very quickly.”

“And you resent me for it?”

“No!” Martha shook her head. “I honestly don’t resent that at all.  I love my husband, and if he decided to cull me tomorrow, I’d go happily.  We can’t afford it, but I’d still be happy about it.”

“I understand most women in Poppyfield simply go to the butchers.”

“It’s a lower middle class neighborhood.  I haven’t ever seen a roast done here, as I said before.”

“So one might not go over well?”

“Are you volunteering?”

Mrs. Finney was silent for a moment.

Martha came slowly to the realization of why her mother was here. “Are you serious?”

“Well, your father would like to fly your sister out.  Assuming it’s alright with your husband, of course.”

“I don’t understand.  Why here?”

“Beverly’s mother in law is still alive.  She’s even a bit younger than I am.  Her children will have a grandmother still even after I’m gone.  And I rather enjoy the company of your children.”

“So dad went gadget shopping in Denver.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll bet he bought a very fancy new spit.”

“He bought three.”

“Three!”

“It’s a large neighborhood.  You have a lot of friends, or so you tell me.  He assumed we’d need three roasts to feed them all.”

“Three!”

“Your father is buying licenses for Saturday as we speak.”

“Saturday!”

“Yes.”

Martha crossed her arms and set herself back on one foot. “Mother, I strongly doubt any of our neighbors would volunteer on such short notice.”

“Well, then we’ll make due.”

Martha couldn’t help but suspect what her mother intended.  She thought about a sly method of getting Mrs. Elizabeth Finney to admit it, but Mother’s ability to avoid blurting out her true feelings was simply beyond Martha’s ability to navigate.  There was no help for it.

“Do you expect me to volunteer?” Martha asked bluntly, terrified of the forthcoming answer.

“That would be very thoughtful, dear.”

“Oh, God!” Martha breathed an exclamation, her breath practically sucking itself out of her.  The sensations of thrilling horror charged through her body like a freight train, touching every nerve and leaving her belly tingling.  Martha stood and went to the cupboard looking for something, anything to hide her embarrassment.  She retrieved a mixing bowl.

“I thought I might make some coffee cake,” Martha said.

“That would please your father greatly, dear.”

Martha began collecting the ingredients with quaking hands.

“Would you like some help dear?” asked Mrs. Finney.

“Uhm… yeah,” said Martha.  She slid the bowl to Mother and set the oven to three fifty. “I have to get ready to go shopping anyway.”

“I should stay, then,” said Mrs. Finney. “Your father’s new toys should be arriving any time.”

“What?  You don’t have the spits with you?”

“Oh, he couldn’t just buy spits, dear.  He bought special roasting oven/barbeque units.  He couldn’t stop once he got started.  You know how he is.”

“Did you schedule a butcher too?”

“Oh no,” Mrs. Finney said. “Your father and I have been taking classes with one of the best chefs on the eastern seaboard.”

Martha’s tremors came now in intense waves.

“So Dad’s going to gut me?”

“Of course, dear.”

Martha retried the bunt mold.

“Are you alright, dear?”

Martha shook her head.

“No, Mother.  I am not alright.  You came here, drop this bombshell on me and expect us not only to accommodate you, but for me to be a garnish to you as the main course!”

“Don’t be silly, dear.  I’d never think of you as a garnish.”

Martha snorted. “I still haven’t volunteered, Mother.” She took the cake batter and poured it into the mold. “I don’t know if this will work out.  Maybe some other time.”

Martha took the cake to the oven and slid it in, setting the timer.  She turned back to her mother and noted the woman’s eyes were tearing up.

“I have to go get ready,” Martha said, leaving her mother as tear ran down the older woman’s cheek.

Upstairs, Martha stripped off, grabbed her vibrator from the nightstand drawer and sat on the shower pan under a scalding stream of water.  As she slid the vibrator inside, she remembered Sylvie’s last call.

“Daddy fucked me,” Sylvie had said.

Martha had been fat with her second litter, holding Naomi as Linda suckling at her barely adequate boobs while Mary napped.

“What?”

“Daddy fucked me,” Sylvie had repeated. She said it in a tone that seemed somehow both satisfied and humiliated.  Martha couldn’t help but imagine it.  Her father was half bald, even back then, and never what a woman might call physically attractive.

“He has a really huge cock!  He fucked my ass too!”

“He raped you?” Martha asked with incredulity.

“Yes,” Silvie had said.  “But it doesn’t matter.  I’m getting roasted anyway.  Mother is having me cooked at the bridge club...  I guess she lost a bet, or something.”

“So tell me what happened with Dad!”

“What’s to tell?  He fucked me!”

Martha hadn’t believed her. Silvie had always made things up from the time she could talk.  But when she had indeed been spitroasted at the bridge club, it caused Martha to question her own instinct.

Beverly, however, had bought the story whole, painting a picture of impish little Silvie being ravished by conservative Chester Finney.  But Martha’s instinct still told her no, it never happened.

Martha’s body convulsed at the thought of it, however.  And then there was the thought that Dad would send her off in the same fashion.  She couldn’t count the orgasms that gushed through her till there was simply no more to give.

“Mother,” Martha said later as she came downstairs. “Can you call Bev and let her know you’re here?”

“Of course, dear,” Mrs. Finney said.  Martha could see Mother had been crying.  She’d deal with it later, Martha thought, and gathered her things to go.

“So are you going to do it?” Jeanine asked as Martha and Chelsea pushed shopping carts alongside her.

“That’s up to Don,” Martha said evenly.

“I know that!  But are you going to do it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Your’ mom seems stuck up,” Chelsea observed. “You look alike, but how come you’re so nice?”

“You know,” Jeanine said with a smirk. “You ought to set it up as a tenderizing party.”

“What’s that?” Chelsea asked.

Jeanine laughed. “It’s where the meat gets tied down and takes all comers…”

“I guess I should buy invitations,” Martha said absently, her head in a fog. “How many should I get?

By the time Martha arrived home, the roasters were indeed being delivered by a semi tractor and trailer parked in front of the house.  Mrs. Finney was directing the delivery women to bring the stainless steel monstrosities to the back yard.  Three wooden tables, which seemed more like long cutting boards with legs than tables came with them, as did three boxes, the spits, and enough propane to power a much larger roast.

Many of the neighborhood women and girls had come out to gaze at the sight.  Jeanine’s remaining litter was there as were Tina and Dana.

“Wow,” Chelsea said. “Your folks went all out!”

“Mmmm,” Jeanine said, her hand patting Martha’s bottom. “It’s making me horny!”

Mrs. Finney turned to Jeanine with a smile. “Perhaps you would consider volunteering.”

“Oh!” Jeanine flushed.

“Yeah, Mom!” said Lorrie Philips. “You’d look hot on a spit!” Lorrie had her mother’s ample rump and her father’s strawberry hair.  She was Tina’s best friend.

“Careful, sweetheart,” said Jeanine. “I might take you with me!”

Lorrie swallowed hard, Martha mused.  Jeanine was deadly serious.  Mrs. Finney chuckled.

“Do tell your teachers they’re invited,” said Mrs. Finney to Lorrie. “Especially Mr. Daniels.  I’m told Tina has a special affection for him!”  Mrs. Finney left them then, leading the delivery women with the last of their burden.  Jeanine and Martha ordered their daughters to unload Chelsea’s van and the three friends went into their respective homes.

In back of the Cokely home, Mrs. Finney was entertaining questions by the gaggle of neighbors.  When Martha saw Helen Blakely among them, she knew she wouldn’t need to send out invitations at all.  Helen lived opposite the Cokely’s back yard on Violet.  She was a human soapbox.  If Helen knew it, everyone did.  Martha sighed and busied herself with the groceries.

As Dana came in with the last bag of canned goods it split and dropped them on the floor.  As Dana went to pick them up, Martha saw she wore no panties.

“Dana!  What happened to your underwear?”

Dana shot up to stand straight, hazel eyes wide.

“Uhm…”

“Dana was flashing Bart Haskell,” Tina injected. “So Lorrie dared her to give him her panties, and she did!”

Martha folded her arms. “Is this true, Dana?”

Dana bit her lip, and nodded.

“I’m surprised at you!  Your’ grounded for the rest of the week.  And you’ll be explaining this to your father!  Now get these groceries put away!”

Martha took the Thigh roast she’d purchased and began preparing dinner for the evening.  It wasn’t long before the phone rang and Helen Blakely began firing questions about Saturday.  Would it be a potluck?  What about tables?  What time?  How many roasters?  Was Martha going to roast? Martha tried to be gracious to the neighborhood’s most notorious gossip, but she was fast losing patience.

“And is it a casual gathering, or is there a dress code?”

“Come naked if you like,” Martha said exasperated.

“Oh!” said Helen, offering a rare moment speechlessness. “I couldn’t.  Lingerie then?  Or Bikinis?”

As usual, Don was home at six, just as dinner was ready.  He bound into the kitchen, picked up his wife and smothered her with kisses.

“What did I do to deserve the affection?” Martha giggled.

“Chester told me everything!” Don said breathlessly. “God,” he kissed her again. “I can’t wait!”

“My dad talked to you?”

“He came to work at lunch.  He should be here any minute.  What’s wrong?”

Martha stared at her husband wide eyed.  She wanted to cry.

“Honey, what is it?”

“I…” Martha started. “I hope I taste good…”

“Honey,” Don grinned. “You’ll be delicious!”

At Dinner, Martha was in a complete fog.  In bed, done was insatiable – taking her more times than he’d ever taken her before.  She awoke the next morning sore and stiff.
Last edited by luiscypher on May 22nd, 2013, 4:18 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: As With Most Days (Story)

Postby luiscypher » July 13th, 2011, 8:28 pm

Part 2

As with most days Ron called at five as Jeanine was making dinner.  She picked up the phone and held it to her head as she sliced potatoes.

“Hi, Honey,” she said instantly.

“Hey babe!” Ron said. “I got your message, and I got Saturday off.  But I’m taking a double shift tonight, so don’t wait up.”

“Oh good!” Jeanine said, putting a smile in her voice. “Do you know that Martha’s mother suggested I volunteer for the third spit?”

“You’d look good on a spit.”

“That’s what Lorrie said,” Jeanine smirked.

Ron’s laugh was boisterous. “So would she!”

“I threatened to volunteer her!”

Ron broke into uncontrolled cackles. “Maan! Did I ever tell you that you crack me up?”

“Isn’t that why you married me?”

“That, and your big tits,” Ron said. “Wait, third spit?”

“Yeah," Jeanine said. "Mr. Finney bought three spits and three licenses.”

“Woah! You’re kidding!”

“As to your next question: Martha might get spitted too.”

A moment of silence was followed by: “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Shades of the past!”

“Not really,” Jeanine said. “Martha’s mom is a stuck up bitch.  I can’t imagine Martha and her mom… well…”

“That’s a shame.”

It is, but…”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” Ron said. “I’ll be home around one, and I’ll be hard as a rock!”

“Can’t wait!”

“Gotta go!”

“Love you!”

“Me too!”

Jeanine hung up the phone and went on dicing potato with the memory of her own mother and sister Maria dancing in her head.  They had been spitted together after Maria failed her Junior High finals.  Jeanine was charged with shaving her mother that day.  She couldn’t resist sampling the fillet… and the memory still never failed to get Jeanine aroused.

“Was that Dad?”

Annoyed at the interruption, Jeanine turned to face Lorrie, and her jaw dropped.

Lorrie was still wearing her school uniform, but only one button of her blouse was buttoned at her cleavage.  The rest had been gathered up and tied so that the lower portion of Lorrie’s ribs were exposed.  Lorrie’s gray skirt was also shortened, from twenty inches to about ten!  And it was pulled down so the waist band wrapped around Lorrie’s hip bones so that even the top of her pubic mound was exposed.

“What are you wearing?”

“My uniform!” Lorrie said. “Like it? It’s all the rage in California.” Lorrie did a twirl, and Jeanine saw that the strawberry blonde’s rump cleft was also more than visible.

Jeanine shook her head, smiling.

“You’re not wearing panties, are you?”

“I didn’t have any that would work,” Lorrie said.

“I dare you to go to school like that tomorrow,” Jeanine declared. “You…”

“Mom!” Protested Lindsey. “You can’t be serious!”

Jeanine regarded dark haired Lindsey.  Like all her daughters, Lindsey was five foot five with the same basic shape as Jeanine, straight hips, generous rump.  But also, smaller in the bust line the way Lorrie was.  Of all her daughters, only Lana had inherited Jeanine’s enormous breasts.

“Why not?” Jeanine asked. “She looks good enough to eat!”

Lorrie swallowed so hard Jeanine could hear her throat.

“Exactly, Mom!” Harrumphed Lindsey. “I can just hear the chatter coming out of Eileen Blakely’s mouth!”

“I don’t know,” said Lana, the third of Jeanine’s youngest litter. “Maybe Lorrie wants to do the pole dance!”

“Fuck you, Lana!”

“You wish!” Lana said, thrusting her chest in Lorrie’s direction. “There’s a spit next door with your name on it!”

“Lana!  I swear I’ll…”

“Careful, Lana,” said Jeanine. “It might have your name on it instead.”

“So, Mom,” said Lana, completely unperturbed by her mother’s remark. “Mrs. Finney seems nice.  Is Martha really going with her?”

“Maybe,” Jeanine said. “Lorrie, you should sew up that hem.  Go use the sewing machine.”

“Okay.”

Lana and Lindsey began setting the table.

“”Dad’s working late, so don’t set his place.”

“I like Mrs. Finney,” said Lindsey. “She’s classy.  I never thought an old woman could be pretty too.”

“Now we know where Martha gets her looks,” Jeanine had to admit.  Mrs. Finney was very pretty, but she was tempted to share her low opinion of the older woman with her daughters, but discarded the notion.  Experience is always better.

“Don’s going to need a new wife,” Lindsey said.

Jeanine regarded Lindsey as the potatoes fried.

“You’re not his type,” said Lana.

“How do you know?”

“ ‘Cause I am!”

“Don’t be smart, Lana,” said Jeanine. “Linds, we don’t know what will happen…” she paused. “But if Martha decides to get roasted…”

“What” asked Lindsey, wide eyed and hopeful.

“I’ll float the idea to him.”

“Really?” Lindsey breathed, a smile on her lips as she hugged her mother.

The idea was appealing.  The more Jeanine thought on it the more she liked it.  Lindsey was not university material and only marginal with her grades in highschool.  As the girls bantered about this and that, Jeanine imagined life with Lindsey next door… without Martha.  Chelsea was her only other real friend, and she was too much of a ditz to confide in…

Jeanine regarded her youngest daughters.  Her fantasy had always been to be spitted with one of them.  All of her first litter and one of her second had not made it through highschool.  Her two colligiates, Miley and Madeline were at Elko U of Nevada with Martha’s three eldest trying to survive with decent grades and dodging hunters.  If they survived, they’d be fine.  Having at least one of her girls married would be more than Jeanine could hope for under any circumstances.

So what if Martha got spitted?

Jeanine had told Martha every part of her life, including why she wanted to go out with one of her daughters.  But as she regarded Lana, Lindsey and Lorrie she could not imagine any of them being turned onto the idea of having sex with their own mother.

And that was the rub of it.  Even though Mrs. Finney was what she was, she oozed a sexual tension the same way Martha did.  Martha threatened to burst any moment, but the closest thing Jeanine had had to intimacy with Martha was rubbing tanning inhibitor on Martha’s back… with Martha wearing that ridiculous beige bikini.  Maybe tomorrow when we get waxed…

“Oh my god!” Jeanine exclaimed.

“What?” Chorused her daughters.

“I forgot to make the appointment!”

“What appointment?”

“Martha and I need to get waxed,” Jeanine frantically dialed Yukio’s…
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Re: As With Most Days (Story)

Postby luiscypher » July 13th, 2011, 8:29 pm

Part 3

Wednesday had begun as with most days, but for Dana Cokely it hadn’t ended that way.  Talk of the coming roast on Saturday permeated everything.  Her mother’s halting announcement at dinner that she’d be spitroasted Saturday with Gramma had charged the atmosphere with a tension that made Dana’s skin tingle.  Even more so when mom suggested it be a lingerie event to Mrs. Blakely.

How that happened was after dinner as Dana and her sisters sat on the back porch with their parents and grandparents.  Helen Blakely waddled up with her daughter Eileen, looking as always like a torso glued to the top of a light bulb, so wide were her hips.  Helen wasn’t fat, mind you, but her butt was huge, the biggest Dana had seen.  Eileen’s wasn’t much smaller.

“Yoo-hoo,” Helen sang. ‘Hello Martha! Hello girls.  Hello Don!  Nice to see you again, Mrs. Finney.”

“Heya Helen,” said Dad. “I guess you heard about Saturday.”

“I did!  Is this Mr. Finney who I’ve heard so much about?”

“Nice to meet you, Helen,” said Grampa in a friendly way.

“I heard the news and had to meet you,” said Helen taking his offered hand. “Mr. Finney, This is my daughter, Eileen.”

“Call me Chester, please.”

“I came over because I decided to go shopping tomorrow and I wanted to confirm it would be a bra and panty day.  I haven’t a thing appropriate to the occasion, so…”

“What a great idea!” said Grampa.”

“But dear,” Gramma protested. “Do you think it would be proper?”

“Why not?” said Grampa. “You and Marty will be naked.”

“Oh, good!” Helen sang. “Martha suggested it might be a nude only day.”

“Nude!” Gramma exclaimed looking at Mom.

“Well,” Daddy said. “If anyone wants to show up naked, I won’t object.  Let’s call it ‘underwear optional’!”

“Great idea, Don!” said Grampa enthusiastically as Gramma scowled.

Gramma leaned over to Dana and whispered: “You know what’s on their minds!” The two exchanged private smiles and Dana giggled.

“But,” Gramma said. “Dana can’t wear panties.  She has boys to impress!”

“Gramma!” Dana protested.

Mom was looking at Gramma with her mouth agape but her lips broke into an open smile.

“I don’t mean to be nosey,” said Helen, and Dana thought “yes you do” and so, most likely, did all her sisters. “But,” Helen went on. “Are those the spits?” She pointed to the long boxes stacked on the deck against the house.

“Yeah,” Daddy nodded.

“Can I see one?” asked Helen. “If it’s not too much to ask.”

“Now it starts,” Gramma whispered to Dana.

“My pleasure!” said Grampa. “Don, give me a hand, please.”

Daddy and Grampa opened the top box.

“Hey,” said Daddy. “There are two in here.”

“Two per set,” said Grampa.

“So we have six?” Tina asked incredulously.

“One for Gramma,” said Grampa. “One for your mother and four more if need be.”  He picked up one of the seven foot stainless steel poles and a long canvas bag out of the top box.

“Okay, Gather round,” he said. “This spit is brand new, state of the art.  See here at the front end, these holes ooze vegetable oil so that it goes in smoothly.  It’s two inches around except here where the rubber coating is.  This part is called the bit.  It’s so you can bite down on it comfortably.  It also helps the butcher place these holes properly so the doe can breathe while she cooks.”

“Wow,” said Eileen. “So we roast alive?”

“You volunteering, sweetie?” smiled Grampa wolf-like.

“No,” Eileen shook her head.

“You sure?  We have plenty of spits!”

“What’s in the bag, Grampa?” asked Sandy.

“I’m so glad you asked,” smiled Grampa.  He opened the bag and pulled out an odd shaped piece made of the same stainless steel as the spit.

“This is for anal spitting.  It goes here.  The spit comes apart like this…” he unscrewed the spit at an invisible seam that broke the spit almost in half, and screwed in the “hump” shaped piece that was shaped vaguely like a shark fin, with a straight slope toward the front and an arch on the back side. “This goes in the same place.” He held up another piece.

Dana and everyone else knew what it was.  The anal stabilizer was standard equipment.  It was threaded on both ends of a short length of stainless two inches in diameter with a rod that supported a stainless steel phallus Grampa worked in and out obscenely with a boyish grin.

“Ches,” Daddy said. “You can’t spit anyone with this end.  It’s threaded.”

“Right you are, Donald!” Grampa said excitedly. “That’s what THIS is for!”

He pulled out something Dana thought was even more obscene than the anal stabilizer.  It amounted to a long, rubberized phallus.  It was even flesh colored with a pinkish head.  The difference was that it was at least twenty inches long and threaded on one end to fit onto the spit.

“What’s that for, Chester?” asked Helen.

“This, sweetie, is so we can more easily stuff you!” He said. “But that’s a surprise!” He put it away leaving all in suspense. “Let’s move to the roasters.”

At this point, the whole assembly was wrapped around Grampa’s little finger.  He stood, and everyone followed down to the grass below the deck toward the closest roaster.

It was truly a monster, four feet wide and seven feet long with a hood that made it look like a caboose.

“This is an open roaster,” said Grampa. “State of the art, of course.  The burners up top are a combination convection design that can go as high as six hundred degrees with the sides open.  This here,” he flipped up an end panel. “Protects the roasters head so she can fully enjoy the experience.  And,” he slid the panel over to one side on its rail, and then flipped up a second panel. “This allows it to accommodate two!”

“Chester,” Gramma said. “We can’t roast six!”

“Sure we can!” said Grampa. “I bought six licenses!”

Later, after Helen and Eileen finally left, Mom sat with Dad and Grampa in the kitchen signing the papers that would make her into walking meat.  Dana sat next to Gramma on the couch with Sandy opposite watching Entertainment Daily.  It was the type of mindless fare that allowed them idle conversation without real distraction.

“So, six roasters,” said Sandy. “You were surprised, Gramma?”

Gramma was stroking Sandy’s hair and Sandy seemed to be enjoying that. “I had no idea he bought so many.  I doubt we’ll use them.”

“He could roast almost all of us.”

Gramma laughed. “Oh, no, dear.  You’re still veal.  It would cost seven thousand Euros to roast just you!”

“Seven Thousand?” Said Dana, shocked.

“Not you, dear.  You’re not veal anymore.  It only costs three thousand for you,” Gramma said and Dana noticed Sandy sigh with relief.

“I’m not veal.”

“Highschool seniors never are,” said Gramma, as she turned her attention to caressing Dana’s blonde hair.

“So, me?”

“If you like,” Gramma caressed her ear.

Dana’s blue eyes widened as she felt a thrill go through her.  She’d never taken seriously the idea of being culled.  It had always seemed so far away.

“What about Jeanine?” asked Sandy. “She’s Mom’s best friend.”

“We have room for her too,” said Gramma.

“Why now, Gramma?” asked Dana. “Why did you decide to get roasted now?”

Gramma kissed Dana’s forehead. “Because I couldn’t stand the idea of going with the tension between your mother and I still standing.”

“But you have four years left…”

“No, I don’t.”

“No?”

“It’s here on Saturday or at home on Sunday.  I’d rather be here.”

“Why Sunday?” Dana asked.

Gramma kissed her crown again. “Ask me later.

Dana turned back to the television.  Doreen Rush was reporting on Princess Caroline’s scandalous exposition of her breasts to the royal boys’ choir.  She had worn a very revealing gown and bent over so that her neckline hung low enough for her breasts to be clearly visible, dangling for both boys and cameras to see.

“Her companions included Lady Penelope Shelby and Playpen E-Girl and Columnist Jenna Wells,” Rush went on. “The event, which featured Congolese art and culture, had already become controversial as three titled women of the British aristocracy volunteered to be the main course at tonight’s grand fundraising banquette…”

“Jenna Wells is hanging out with Royalty now?” Mom said standing next to the kitchen door.

“You know her, dear?” asked Gramma.

“I follow her column in the paper.  She’s funny.”

“Ah,” said Gramma. “I thought I’d take the girls shopping tomorrow.

“I’m grounded,” said Dana.

“Oh, Martha,” Gramma said, still caressing Dana, on her neck now. “You don’t want to keep Dana on restriction this week of all weeks, do you?”

“Mother, what I want isn’t the issue.  Tina’s grounded as well.”

“For flashing, yes, I know.  But Sandy tells me none of you have any nice underwear for Saturday.  I thought we should try Amanda’s Boudoir.  I heard one is open nearby.”

“Mom!” Tina exclaimed. “Can we? Please?!”

Mom looked at her, shaking her head.

“Tina,” Dana piped up. “Maybe you could try not being a bitch to Mom for five minutes before you ask.”

“Dana!” Tina protested.

“Have you been mean to your mother, Tina?” Gramma asked.

Tina’s eyes locked guiltily with Gramma’s.  It took her a few moments, but she nodded.

“Well, young lady.  I think you should apologize to your mother this instant and swear there will be no more ugliness from your lips in her presence ever again!”

Tina looked more sheepish than Dana had ever seen her.  She loved Gramma all the more for putting Tina in her place.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Tina said contritely.  Dana almost believed she meant it. “I promise I really am!”

Mom, being Mom, teared up and gathered Tina into her arms.  They hugged each other for long moments rocking back and forth.

“So, Martha,” Gramma said.

“Yes, Mother?”

“May I take the girls shopping tomorrow?
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Re: As With Most Days (Story)

Postby luiscypher » July 13th, 2011, 8:30 pm

Part 4

THURSDAY, October 5, 2219

As with most days, Martha was at the kitchen table with the Poppyfield Press Democrat by eight thirty.  She immediately opened the entertainment section hoping to get more on Princess Caroline from Jenna’s Dish, but nothing.  Instead it was about the drunken escapades of Momo Toyoda, heiress to the Toyota Empire.  The front section had more and told her how scandalize the Fleet Street Tabloids in London were.

At the back door, there came a knock.

“Come in!” Martha called.

Jeanine appeared in her tight yellow tee, denim shorts and carrying a paper grocery bag.  She was followed by Officer Ron in his uniform.

“Hi, Sweetie,” said Jeanine.

“Hi, Guys.  Did you get Saturday off, Ron?” Martha asked.

“I did!  I’ll be there.”

“Good,” smiled Martha.

There was an awkward silence, and Martha stood to pour coffee for her friends.

“So?” Jeanine asked.

“So!” said Martha.

“So!!!  Saturday!!!”

“Oh! Yes!” Martha said. “I’m so sorry.  I signed the papers last night.  I’m meat,” the last sent a surreal chill through her. “I’m meat…” she whispered.

“Well,” Jeanine sighed wistfully. “That’s it then, Ron?”

“That’s it, hon,” Ron nodded his red head.

“That’s it,” Martha agreed.

“No,” Jeanine shook her head. “You don’t understand.  Ron and I had a discussion last night, between… hmmm… anyway, I’ll be on that third spit!”

Martha’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding!”

“Well,” Ron said. “Three thousand for a license is a lot of paper.  I promised my wife a spitroasting, and this is too good an opportunity to make good on that promise.”

“But didn’t you want to go out with one of your daughters?” asked Martha.

“Honey,” Jeanine said. “We don’t always get what we want.  And I can’t imagine life without my best friend.”

Martha smiled at that.

“Anyway, we need to get waxed,” Jeanine said, putting the paper bag on the table. “Yukio’s was booked solid.  So I got us all the goods last night.  I even bought enough for your mother.”

Martha starred agape at the bag for a moment.

“Uhm,” Martha said. “My mother probably will want to be shaved on Saturday…”

“Oh,” Jeanine said. “I forgot… East Coast thing,” Jeanine said to Ron. “The women there don’t believe in being bare till the end.  Bushes are a status symbol.”

“Oh yeah,” Ron said. “I heard that.  Well, can you ask your father about the Paperwork, Martha?  Or send it over with Jeanine?”

“Of course,” said Martha.

He moved close and kissed Martha’s cheek.

“Thanks Girl,” he said.  “I’ll leave you two to it.  Bye Babe.”

“Bye Honey,” said Jeanine.  The couple kissed and Ron left.  Jeanine sat, her hands were shaking. “What a rush! Whooo…”

“I know,” Martha said, herself shaking. “I’m so scared!”

“What made you agree,” asked Jeanine after a long pause.

Martha took a deep breath. “Don was so happy.  I couldn’t say no.”

Jeanine nodded understanding. “Ron fucked me so hard last night, I’m still sore.  But I’m still horny!”

Martha stood and started a fresh pot of coffee.  Meanwhile, Jeanine stood and opened the cupboard where Martha kept her pots.  She took out a two quart, filled it with water at the sink and put it on the stove.

“Where are your folks?” Jeanine asked.

“My parents have some friend or business associate in Phoenix.  They’re having brunch with him and his family.  My mother is taking the girls out shopping after school.”

“So we’re alone for a while, we can wax here.”

“I guess so,” Martha said. “Hey, ever figure out which one of your girls would go with you?”

“To the spit?” Jeanine asked as Martha nodded. “Well, no…” she admitted, her big dark eyes searching Martha’s face. “I’ll live vicariously through you and your mom.”

Martha laughed at that. “It can’t be the same.”

“Probably not,” Jeanine said. “But what’s the use?” she put a hand on Martha’s. “I really…”

“Yoo-hoo!” Came a singsong voice with a knock at the back door.

“Oh, joy,” said Jeanine.

Martha likewise rolled her eyes.  She squeezed the hand Jeanine had laid over her own and withdrew it before calling: “It’s Open!”

In waddled Helen Blakely with Chelsea.

“Look who I found,” Helen said. “Oh! Hello Jeanine.”

“Hello, Helen,” Jeanine said icily, no love lost there. “Hi Chels.”

“Is it true?” asked Chelsea. “You really going to do it?”

Martha nodded. “I signed the papers last night.”

“Oh my gosh!” Chelsea said. “What will we do without you?”

“My husband suggested I volunteer,” Helen said.

“Will you?” Jeanine asked.

“I told him I’d think about it.”

Martha smiled, knowing how hen pecked and cowed Brad Blakely was.  She stood and poured fresh coffee for everyone.

“The only question,” Helen went on. “Is who will be on those other four spits.”

“Four?” said Jeanine. “But there are only three!  Isn’t that what your mother said?”

Martha shook her head. “Mother was misinformed.  Dad bought six spits, six licenses, and the roasters to roast the roasts…”

“Well,” said Helen. “I don’t know why he bought so many.  Does he plan on inviting the whole neighborhood?”

“Yes, actually,” Martha said. “He does.”

“But who would volunteer?” asked Helen.

“You could,” Jeanine said.

“You first, Jeanine!”

“I already did!” Jeanine said triumphantly. “Ron and I sign papers tonight!”

Helen was, for the first time in Martha’s experience, completely flustered and unable to respond.

“Frank really wants to spitroast that Morgan chick,” said Chelsea, oblivious to the sparring match. “That bitch secretary I told you about?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Martha.

“Your wax is hot,” said Helen.

Jeanine reached back and turned off the stove.

“It’ll have to cool,” Jeanine said. “It’s too hot.”

“You’re not going to Yukio’s?” asked Chelsea.

“She was booked Solid,” said Martha.

“Anyway,” Chelsea said. “I came here to tell you about your dad’s visit to the shop.  Apparently your dad has it all planned out.  Did Don tell you how you get gutted?”

“He and my mother took classes,” Martha said. “So I guess my mother will do me, and he’ll do her…”

“Nope!” Chelsea said. “Remember what you said yesterday?  About how big Don is and how he likes to…”

“Chels!” Martha stopped her.

“What?”

“Tell me later!” Martha’s eyes shot toward Helen momentarily.

“Why?” Chelsea asked, oblivious.

“Just… tell me later.”

“Okay,” Chelsea said. “Oh, I have an appointment with my obstetrician!  She thinks I have four!  Three girls and a boy!  Isn’t that cool?  Me with a son?”

“Congratulations,” smiled Jeanine.

Martha stood and hugged the tall, short haired blonde.

“It’s not fer sure yet,” Chelsea said. “I’ll know today.”

“Call us as soon as you know!” Martha said, and Chelsea was out the door.

“Anyway,” Helen said. “Pity she’s pregnant.  She’d look great on one of those fancy spits.”

“So would you!” Jeanine said. “And you have more meat.”

“I have big bones,” said Helen defensively. “So not that much more.  I’m supposed to yield forty eight pounds.”

“You know how much you’ll yield?” Martha asked, a bit shocked.

“Well, I’m one thirty eight, at five foot five.  There’s a simple equation for it.  You’re, what, five, six?” Helen asked as she dug a pen and pad out of her purse.

“Yes.”

“And what… one, ten?”

“One oh five.”

“And you’re a B-cup?”

“C.”

“One oh five, carry the five… da… da… da! We get thirty two pounds from you,” said Helen.

“Wow,” Martha said as she inspected Helen’s numbers.

“It’s an estimate my husband uses at the exchange,” Helen said. “Not perfect, mind, but nearly always close.”

There was another knock on the back door.

“Come in!”

This time it was Tanya Harding and Brenda Davis.  By noon, twelve more neighborhood mothers had stopped by to chat.  Neither Martha nor Jeanine had any opportunity to wax that morning.  Martha managed to get to her daily chores by one with only two hours remaining before the girls arrived home.

“I’m sorry, Jeanine,” she apologized as her parents walked in the door without knocking. “Mother! Dad!  How was Phoenix?”

“Good,” said Chester. “Mr. Bailey’s bringing his family to the barbeque on Saturday, so you’ll meet them.”

“Mrs. Finney,” said Jeanine. “I brought enough wax for you if you’d like to get waxed.”

“How thoughtful of you, dear,” said Mrs. Finney. “But I was hoping to be barbed by Martha on Saturday.”

“You want me to shave you?” asked Martha.

“I was rather hoping,” said Mrs. Finney. “If it’s not too much to ask.  I’m sure Chester would, but I’d rather not be all nicked up.  My skin is very tender down there.”

Martha exchanged glances with Jeanine.  Her friend was flushed.

“You should do it, Martha!” Jeanine said with shaky breath, and Martha was instantly reminded of the story Jeanine told her of her own mother.  The whole mommy-daughter thing came to mind.

Martha trembled. “Of course I will,” said Martha.  More for you, Jeanine, than for my mother, she wanted to add.

“So did you already wax?” asked Mrs. Finney.

“No,” Jeanine said. “The whole neighborhood showed up and kept us from doing it.”

“Well,” Mrs. Finney said. “You should do it now while you have time.  Before the girls come home.”

Jeanine didn’t have to be told twice.  She grinned at them both.

“I’ll go heat the wax,” she said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

“Lock the door!” Mrs. Finney called. “Or do your doors have locks?  I never looked.”

“Mother! I can’t.  My chores!  I haven’t done anything.”

“I can see that, dear.  Don’t worry.  I’ll start.  Are the girls beds made?”

“They make their own,” Martha said proudly.

“Good.  What needs done?”

Martha gave her mother the list which Mrs. Finney promptly accepted.

“Give me your dress,” Mrs. Finney said.

“What?” asked Martha, looking from her mother to her father.

“Martha, this dress is not for housework.  Give me your dress.”

Martha reluctantly unsnapped her pink polyester snap front housedress, very aware she wore nothing underneath.  But mother would see her naked anyway, right?

Liz Finney gasped as her daughter stood naked before her, offering up the horrible garment.

“You are so beautiful,” said Mrs. Finney.

“You did good, Sweetheart,” said Chester Finney to his wife.

Martha blushed all over, standing, as she was, on display for her parents.

“Mother,” Martha said. “Mom…” she hesitated. “If you can… later… will you tell me about Silvie?  I mean, what happened to her?  It’s been on my mind…”

Liz Finney caught her breath again at the mention of Silvie.

“She will!” Mr. Finney said. “Well, I think I’ll go for a walk… it’s so nice here this time of year…” he excused himself and slipped out the front door.

Martha smiled at him as he left.

“Wax is ready,” came Jeanine. “Oh!”

“Don’t worry, Jeanine,” said Mrs. Finney. “She’s ready for you.  I’ll get to this,” she held up the list.

Martha smiled at her and turned to Jeanine.

“Ready?”

“Oh god!”

“You okay?”

“Uhm…” Jeanine said. “Can you do me first?”

“Sure…”

Jeanine slipped back into the kitchen and quickly doffed her shorts and panties facing away from her naked friend.  She turned slowly, and revealed her nakedness.

“Awe hell,” Jeanine said, stripping off the tight yellow tee, and unclasping her bra.

It was Martha’s turn to catch her breath.  She’d never actually seen Jeanine fully nude before.  Jeanine’s breasts were firmer than Martha had expected.  Thyey were, of course, large, at least a D cup, probably double D.  But was astonishing were Jeanine’s dark brown nipples.  They were mostly thick protrusions, as big around as the tip of Martha’s pinky and seeming to grow larger as she watched.

“I’m too shaky to do you first,” said Jeanine.

Martha smiled thinking I’m not in much better shape…

“Uhm…” Martha said. “Let’s get you from the back, first.”

“Okay,” said Jeanine. “Table?”

Martha nodded.

Jeanine ended up in the same position as Martha had been when Don had taken her the previous morning.  Jeanine’s entire sex was exposed.

Martha retrieved the hot wax and began applying it with the teaspoon sized spatula.

“Uh!” Jeanine grunted as the hot wax made contact with her tender flesh.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be!” Jeanine breathed. “It helps!”

“I didn’t mean to tease you,” Martha apologized. “I’m really sorry.”

“I thought… ah… I thought it looked like you two were going to kiss!  Ah!  It was sooo haaaaah! Hot!”

Martha laughed and continued to apply the wax carefully.  Shortly, she pressed in the cloth strips and, trying not to think on Jeanine’s words, she made ready to rip away the unwanted hairs.

“Ready?”

“Ready!”

Martha ripped away the strips quickly.  She felt gently around Jeanine’s sex looking for stray hairs and found none.

“Done!” Martha said. “Up on the table.”

Jeanine rolled over and complied.  Her mons was quite large and her cleft was parted by her very swollen clitoris.  Jeanine scooted back a bit on the table and spread her legs.

The sight of Jeanine like this made Martha’s pink nipples ache.  Her bare breasts tingled.  But she settled into her task and applied the wax as before.  When she ripped away the hair it left Jeanine’s un-tanned olive bikini area a sexy shade of pink.  One more application removed all the strays.

“Oh god!” Jeanine said. “I’m sorry!” She was weeping. “I’m dripping all over your table!”

Martha couldn’t help it any longer.  She caressed her friend’s inner thigh and dipped her head.  When her lips touched Jeanine’s soft sex Jeanine let out a gasp.  Jeanine’s hands went to Martha’s crown instantly, fingers in Martha’s hair.  She was coming even before Martha’s fingers found her folds and slipped inside.  Wave after wave of ecstasy coursed through Jeanine and soon Martha’s lips found a nipple, fingers still inside.

Jeanine drew Martha’s face to her own and liplocked with Martha in a way that was better than any fantasy she’d had over the past twelve years.

“I…” Jeanine breathed hard.  “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Martha sighed.

They held each other there on the kitchen table for what was too short a time.

“I still have to do you,” said Jeanine, pushing Martha up.

“I know.”

When Martha’s creamy mons was pink and smooth, Jeanine returned the favor, hungrily savoring Martha’s fillet.  Martha wept with pleasure as her friend took her.  Even as Jeanine’s hand slid completely inside her, even as she gasped at the intense pleasure that was almost painful, she wept.  When she gushed as Jeanine suckled on her pink nipples, she wept.  And as Jeanine kissed her so deeply she thought the life would drain out of her then and there, she wept.  I should have let you have me long ago, my love, Martha thought.  As she held Jeanine and quivered in the afterglow, she wept.

Out of sight, outside the kitchen, Liz Finney watched them in their splendid beauty.  Like her daughter, she wept.  This was defiantly not as with most days…
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Re: As With Most Days (Story)

Postby luiscypher » July 13th, 2011, 8:31 pm

Part 5

As with most days Tina found Dana on the bleachers watching football practice.  It was two fifteen and senior classes were done for the day.

“Going to flash Bart Haskell again?” Tina asked.

“Should I?”

Tina laughed, and followed her sister’s gaze to Barbara LeClerk.  The busty blonde cheerleader was prancing around the edge of the field like she owned it.  She’d been Dana’s chief rival for Bart’s affections and Barbara was on the ropes as of yesterday, when Dana took Tina’s dare and showed Bart her perfect rear end.  Not only that, but Bart had the panties Dana had given him hanging from his waistband as he practiced.

Lorrie Phillips arrived in her scandalous uniform.  It had only raised faculty brows earlier as Tina and her friend arrived at school.

“Hi, guys!”

“So, Lorrie… anyone say anything?” Tina asked.

“Nope!” Lorrie smiled. “Not one word.  But half the girls in school will come like this tomorrow, so we’ll see.” She grinned. “Hi, Barbie!” Lorrie waved, wagging her hips. “Are those your panties Bart has?”

Barbara made a face, but otherwise ignored Lorrie.

“You never told me,” Lorrie said.  “Did your mom decide to get spitroasted?”

“Yes,” Tina said demurely.

“That’s great!”

“I guess so,” Tina said, unsure how she felt about it.

“I thought you hated your mom.”

“I do not!” Tina protested. “Where did you get that idea?”

“Let me think?” said Lorrie. “Uttering the phrase: ‘I hate my mom’ over and over again points to the possibility.”

“I love my mom!”

“Well,” Lorrie said. “You’re always saying how much you hate her.”

Tina looked at Dana for rescue, but her blonde sister only nodded.

“I didn’t mean it!” Tina protested.

“If my mom were getting spitted, I’d do anything to make her happy,” Lorrie asserted.

“Is Martha doing it?” asked Lindsey who was just arriving.

“Yeah,” said Dana.

“Wow,” said Lindsey. “That’s amazing!”

“What would you do for Mom if she decided to get spitted, Linds?” asked Lorrie.

“Anything!”

“Anything?”

Anything.

Would you volunteer if she asked?” Lorrie asked.

“Uhm…” Lindsey was thoughtful. “Probably… yeah.  What about you, Tina?”

Tina thought about it. “I don’t know.”

“Oh my god…” Dana exclaimed. “Bart’s coming!”

“She’s got it so bad!” Lorrie said.

“He IS hot!” Lindsey said.

“Hi Guys!  Hey Dana!” Said Bart as he strode up the bleachers.

“Hiiii Baaart!” chorused all but Dana in a cutesy sing song tone.

He was, indeed, very good looking, Tina admitted to herself.  His teal jersey had a big white 21 emblazoned on it.

“So,” Tina asked. “You guys gonna win tomorrow?”

“I hope so,” said Bart. “Obama’s a pretty tough team, but  I think we’re ready.  We have an ace in the hole.”

“Oh?” asked Tina. “What’s that?”

“Uh…” said Bart.  He smirked. “I can’t say.”

“Awe, c’mon, Bart!” said Lorrie. “I’d give you my panties to go with Dana’s, but as you can see,” she lifted her too short skirt. “I’m not wearing any.”

“Lorrie,” Bart snorted with a grin. “You really know how to be a class-A tease!”

“My mom taught me well!”

“Okay…” he relented. “It’s like this.  You guys know we map out all our plays, right?  We have a playbook.  Here’s mine.  The Obama Osprey coach showed up for the Monday makeup game, and he was nosing around the locker room.  Coach Allen warned us to make sure none of us left our playbooks out, ‘cause the Obama coach likes to steal them.  That’s his reputation, anyway.  So Curt Vincenti and I got a blank playbook and reversed all the plays.  Then we put it where someone might find it… like a nosey coach from Obama.  By the end of the game, it was gone!  We’d seen him watching the game with a smirk on his face… sitting right over there…” Bart pointed.
“Wow, Bart!” said Dana adoringly. “That’s brilliant!”

“Yeah?” Bart said.  He turned and looked back toward the cheerleaders.  Barbie was glaring back, a scowl on her face and daggers in her eyes. “Do I get a reward?” he asked as he turned back to Dana.

Dana blushed beat red. “You already have my panties.  What else would you like?”

“How ‘bout a kiss for good luck?”

Dana stood with a stupid smile on her face and carefully put her arms around Bard’s neck.  Now that he had permission, he gathered her up into his muscular arms and laid a kiss  on Dana that sucked the wind out of everyone watching…

“Wooooo!” Chorused Tina and the two Philips sisters.

Bart grinned like a triumphant bull.

“Bart,” Tina said. “You coming Saturday?”

“What’s Saturday?”

Dana whispered into his ear.

“Oh!  Yeah!  I heard about that.” Bart said. Then Dana whispered to him again. “I’m all over it, girl.  I’ll be there!” Again, Dana whispered into his ear. “Oh, shoot, twist my arm, why don’t you?”

Then he laid another kiss upon her, Dana was more aggressive in her acceptance this time, Tina thought.  Good girl!

“Haskell!” bellowed Coach Allen. “Get your stupid ass back on the field!”

“Gotta go!  See ya tomorrow!”

As he passed Barbie she took off her sneaker and threw it at him.  Then she looked back at Dana with un-masked loathing.

“Let’s go, Dana,” Tina said.  But Dana just stood there with a dreaming look on her face. “Dana!”

“What?!”

“You’ve won, let’s go!”

“She’s right,” Lorrie said. “Let’s get out of here and let Barbie simmer a bit…”

“Did you see the look on her face?” Lindsey asked as they met Lana and the three youngest Cokely girls.

“What happened?” asked Melanie.

Lindsey and Lorrie animatedly relayed the whole scene to the three newcomers on the way home.

“What would be cool,” Lana observed. “Is if Barbie got herself spitroasted.  I hate that bitch.”

“No,” said Melanie. “Spitroasting’s too good for her.  I’d love for her to be at the gig on Saturday, and get her culling notice right in front of Dana and Bart man… especially with Dana in her fancy Lingerie.”

“You have fancy lingerie?” asked Lana.

“No…”

“Our gramma’s taking us to Amanda’s Boudoir today,” said Sandy as they arrived home.  She waved to her mother who was sweeping the front porch.

“All of us,” said Tina.  Tina did a double take at who she thought had been her mother.  It wasn’t.  It was Gramma in that ugly pink polyester snap front housedress… Mom didn’t own a pearl necklace, and Tina wondered if Gramma ever took the thing off.

“I wanna gooo!” said Lana.

“Hello, Darlings!” said Gramma.  “I ordered a limousine to take us all to the mall.”

“Really?” asked Sandy excitedly.

“You guys are so lucky,” said Lana.

“Why’s that, dear?” asked Gramma.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Amanda’s…”

“Why don’t you, dear?”

“It’s expensive…”

“You misunderstand,” said Gramma. “Why do you not come with us?”

“Really?” came an excited chorus from the Philips girls.

“Well, we can hardly have my grandaughters’ friends looking shabby on Saturday, can we?  Let’s all go!  But make sure your mother is alright with it first.  She’s inside.”

The three Philips sisters rushed inside while Dana and Sandy hugged Gramma.  Tina did likewise and kissed Gramma’s cheek.

“Thank you, Gramma.”

“Oh, there’s nothing I’d rather do,” said Gramma with a genuine smile.

Tina went inside to find Jeanine Philips surrounded by her daughters, getting barraged with pleas.

“Alright!” said Jeanine. “But… I have something I need to talk to you about… but I guess it can wait.”

The two strawberry blondes and the brunette squealed with joy and kissed and hugged Jeanine as if she’d just given them some ultimate gift.

Gramma came out of the kitchen back in her navy blue designer dress.  Behind her, Mom was back in the pink polyester snap front housedress, which struck Tina as particularly odd…

“I thought I’d treat the girls to dinner as well,” said Gramma. “We might as well make an afternoon of it.  It should give you two… some time to visit more…”

“Okay…” said Jeanine looking sideways at Gramma.  Mom was turning beat red, and Jeanine was likewise blushing.  Tina noticed, but the rest were focused on the stretch limousine that had just pulled up.

“Ah,” said Gramma. “Our chariot is here.  Have a good time, you two.  Come along, girls.”

All of Tina’s friends and sisters ran out of the house sounding like a gaggle of squealing… Tina had no idea what squealed like that other than girls acting like they were twelve… Tina went to follow, but then remembered what Dana and Lorrie had said earlier.

“I’ll be out in a second, Gramma,” said Tina.

“Very well,” said Gramma. “Do hurry.”

As Gramma disappeared, Tina went to Mom and put her arms around Mom’s neck.

“I just want you to know… that I love you.  I know I’ve been a bitch to you,” Tina looked down for a second.  When she looked back up, Mom was tearing up visibly. “I’ll do anything,” said Tina, and then, on an impulse, brushed Mom’s lips with her own. “I’ll do anything to make you happy.” Tina looked over to see Jeanine’s eyes wide.  Strangely, Tina was not embarrassed.  “Anything you want, Mom.”

The limousine’s horn sounded.

“I gotta go,” said Tina.  She kissed Mom’s cheek, and slipped out. As the limo pulled away, Tina was thinking about the softness of Mom’s lips…
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Re: As With Most Days (Story)

Postby luiscypher » July 13th, 2011, 8:32 pm

Part 6

As with most days over the last forty one years, Elizabeth Finney awoke under her husband impaled upon his oversized morning erection.  He always had the good manners to lubricate himself before attacking her, and he’d never wake her up till he was planted well inside her and pumping vigorously.  As always, Liz Finney awoke with a start, instinctively wrapping her arms desperately around Chester.  Elizabeth’s body responded positively to the almost daily assault with submissive passion.  She clung to him even after he’d spent and rolled off her, her body quivering in the aftermath of traumatic orgasms.  Her hand would eventually move to the member so oversized on Chester’s diminutive body.  Nobody would believe it to be that large without seeing it first hand, and it was never, ever less than half erect.  Liz knew from experience it never took more than a moment’s to be ready to for more.  Liz Finney could be forgiven for believing all men were this way.  Chester’s was the only penis she’d ever known.

Eventually, if he did not take her again, he’d slip off to the lavatory to shower.  Chester was fast, in and out of the shower in less than five minutes.  It allowed Liz to go into the bathroom and take her time without guilt.

Elizabeth relieved herself and used the hotel’s brand new, late model Enema Master™, cleaning out her bowls thoroughly.  In the shower, she douched.  When Liz was satisfied of her cleanliness, she reached for a bottle of scented mineral oil.  Her current favorite was infused with peach extract, and coated her entire body with a thick sheen.  Liz hoped Martha was still doing it, as Liz had taught her.  By the look of Martha’s skin, she very likely was.

But no matter, Liz thought as she donned the only dress she’d not donated to the Salvation Army.  The dress, a Navy Blue Kerry Washington had been Elizabeth’s favorite for the past five years.  It had served Liz well as it could be a professional dress, a greeting dress or even a casual dress.  Well, casual is relative, of course.  Casual in the circles Elizabeth Finney travelled in would be far different than casual for say, Jeanine Philips…

“We need to go, Liz!” called Chester. “We need to be there by nine!”

“Oh, Chester,” said Liz. “You know we have plenty of time.  And I need to put on my face.  You don’t want an old hag on your arm when we meet the new Mrs. Bailey, do you?”

As a good husband, Chester heeded his wife’s desperate cry for attention.  He came into the bathroom and kissed his Liz’s cheek.

“You’re nothing close to a hag,” said the balding little man. “Mrs. Bailey will be so very jealous of you; she’ll be green with envy.”

Yes, Chester might not be much to look at, but he was a very, very good husband, Liz knew.

As it happened, the Finneys arrived five minutes early and the Baileys were late.  Leonard Bailey Liz knew from his days as Chester’s attorney twenty years before.  He’d since moved to Arizona after culling the first Mrs. Bailey and promptly remarried.  Liz had never known Leo’s second wife.  His third turned out to be a true west coast girl.

When Leo and Mrs. Bailey arrived, Elizabeth could barely believe her eyes.  She’d heard about the kind of cloths professional women wore in the West, but, this being her first trip west of the Appalachian, she scarcely believed it.

Even so, Mrs. Bailey was dressed for success with a lovely blue silk scarf around her neck and matching pumps.  What would have been scandalous back home was the dress made of see through white silk and under which Mrs. Bailey wore nothing at all.

Elizabeth had to keep herself from uttering an embarrassing outburst as the two approached.  As one who had travelled extensively in Europe, Elizabeth found herself for the first time in a place where such attire was not only acceptable, but commonplace.  The only contact she’d with it she had encountered before was in the society pages that loved to lampoon Sheila Jackson, wife of California Senator Marcus Jackson.  But that was a problem in Washington DC, a city that Elizabeth loathed, and kept her husband as far away from as possible.

Other than Mrs. Bailey’s attire, it was a boring affair.  It always was when Chester and Leo were together.  Liz was relieved when she was finally back in the Jaguar next to Chester, listening to Cole Porter music and speeding toward Poppyfield.

Then Elizabeth found herself in Martha’s living room.  Martha stood naked in front of her, and Liz wanted to weep at her daughter’s beauty.  She had managed to get the toilets done and the cloths folded, when she had come back downstairs to check on Martha and Jeanine, only to find them making love on the kitchen table.  That was not that big of a surprise.  Liz had seen Jeanine discretely touching Martha several times over the past day, so she had suspected they were lovers.  Elizabeth watched, taking a wickedly guilty pleasure in seeing Jeanine’s hand disappear inside Martha, and Martha seeming to enjoy every second of it.  Liz hated herself for thinking of her daughter this way, but there it was… Martha was a woman, a beautiful one at that.  And she was sensual beyond what Liz would have imagined.

Liz watched till the two lay still on the table and held each other.  Then she made her way outside and began sweeping the front porch.  It wasn’t very long before Liz saw her granddaughters walking up with the Philips sisters.  Liz panicked, knowing Martha was still inside, without a stitch to wear.

“Hello, Darlings!” Liz yelled at the top of her lungs, waving. “I ordered a limousine to take us all to the mall.”

She kept them in the front yard as long as she could, even going so far as to invite the Philips girls.  Chester would kill her if she spent too much, but he’d understand when she explained the dilemma.  After she sent the Philips girls in to see their mother, she rushed into the kitchen, grabbing her own dress off the coffee table as she went, to find Martha standing naked in the kitchen looking terrified.  Liz was quite proud of herself for rescuing the situation.

“Driver,” Elizabeth said. “Can you honk the horn once?  I have a lagging girl in there…”

“Of course, ma’am,” said the woman in front of the stretch limousine.  The horn sounded for just long enough to make its point as Chester’s Jaguar rolled up.  Elizabeth stepped out again and waited for Chester to get out, even as Tina arrived and jumped into the Limousine.

“Hello, Darling,” said Elizabeth.

“Is everything alright?” asked Chester, worried.

“Quite alright,” she smiled. “You should know, darling, that I was right.”

“About?”

“Martha and Jeanine, they are lovers.”

“And you know this how?”

“Darling, I just watched the two of them making love on Martha’s kitchen table.”

“Oh my,” he said.

“Yes,” Liz nodded.

“Well,” he said. “Like mother like daughter.”

“Indeed,” Liz smiled, and kissed his cheek.  “Be good.  I must be off.  I have shopping to do.”

“Have fun!”

Elizabeth got back into the limousine and soon it was off.  The ride was a delightful excursion into the world of her granddaughters and their friends.  The girls excitedly recounted the afternoon’s events that had signaled a budding romance between Dana and the highschool’s star athlete.

“And then, he kissed her again!” said dark haired Lindsey Philips enthusiastically.

“What did you whisper in his ear, Dana?” asked strawberry blonde Lana with her big brown eyes and pert smile.

Dana blushed. “I told him I deserved a kiss too.”

“I take it he’s very handsome,” said Elizabeth.

“He’s beyond that,” said Lorrie, strawberry blonde like her sister Lana, but small chested like her sister Lindsey. “He’s Hawt!”

“And did you see Barbie’s face?” asked Lindsey.

“Who’s Barbie?” asked Elizabeth.  The barrage of answers came and Elizabeth was able to glean that Barbie was head cheerleader, beautiful, blonde, well endowed, stuck  up and a “Royal Beotch!”  When Elizabeth heard about Barbie throwing her shoe she broke into a fit of giggles worthy of a pre-teen.  It touched off  a cacklefest of laughter in the packed compartment.

“I know someone exactly like that,” said Elizabeth, wiping away tears.

“Who is she, Gramma?” asked Tina.

“Her name is Georgia Monroe,” said Liz, almost wishing she was not talking about this.  But why not? “She is, indeed, a Royal Beotch!” Liz liked how the word “beotch” rolled off her tongue as she spoke of Georgia. “She’s President of my bridge club, and is quite a good player.  But when we formed the club it was strictly for social entertainment.  Georgia ruined it.”

“How’d she do that?” asked Lana.

“Well,” said Liz, organizing her thoughts so they would be less emotional and more understandable. “She had lived some time in London.  Her husband was an assistant to the Ambassador, you see.  So we were all quite impressed with her when she first arrived at the country club, and we welcomed her into our little card games.  She lorded over us how she’d been presented to the Queen, and her opinions on proper etiquette were not to be questioned.  Soon, she set herself up as club president and made it a very official organization, complete with regional bridge competitions.  We never intended any of that, and many of us were uncomfortable with it and where it was going.  Nine months ago, we found out exactly where it was going.”

“Yes?” Tina said. “Where was it going?”

“Well, nine months ago, Georgia organized a competition.  We’d all get ranked.  The lowest ranked player would be the main course at the final game night.  One of my closest friends lost eight years prematurely.  Three months ago, another did.  She was effectively weeding out all those that had begun to show any reservation about what was happening.  The final day of competition for this quarter is on Sunday.”

“Wait,” Lana said. “How come you guys let her do all that?”

“Popularity will get someone a very long way,” said Elizabeth.

“Gramma,” said Dana. “Sunday?  Does this have to do with what you said last night?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, dear, it does.  As it turns out, I happen to be the lowest ranked player.  I have no hope of gaining a rank unless someone loses intentionally, and nobody does that.”

“Oh!” said Dana. “I get it.  Pity you can’t get back at Georgia.”

Liz smiled. “Well, as I said.  Georgia’s quite a good player.  But she’s not the best.  Before Georgia came along, we had all been playing for years.  The other members are very, very good, and have become much better since Georgia instituted her plan… anyone care to guess who the second lowest ranked player currently is?”

“Nooo!” said Tina.

“That’s right, dear!  Georgia Monroe herself.”

“Does she know?” Lana asked.

“Does who know?” Liz replied.

“Does Mrs. Monroe know?”

Elizabeth laughed, sounding a bit maniacal, even to herself. “She will on Sunday!”

Again, the girls descended into howls of laughter.

“Gramma!” Sandy said. “That’s so baad of you!”

“Well, dear,” said Liz. “A woman should reserve the right to be devious… when appropriate of course!”

“So that’s why you’re here,” said Dana.

“Yes,” admitted Liz.

“And because of Mom?” asked Dana.

“Yes.”

“That’s beautiful,” said Dana.

“Thank you, dear,” Liz favored her blonde granddaughter with a smile.

The limousine pulled up to the Poppyfield Mall between Macy’s and the Emporium.

“Now, girls,” said Elizabeth as they made their way in. “I expect all of you to be on your best behavior.  Is that understood?”

“Yes Ma’am,” said the Philips sisters.

“Yes, Gramma,” said the granddaughters.

“I’m quite serious,” said Liz. “Amanda’s has been known to eject disruptive girls, so no mischief… Yes Tina, I mean you!  And, I suspect, Lorrie as well.” Liz smiled at both of them.

The mall was like any other across the country.  It was two stories above ground with a third level below.  The atmosphere was noticeably more humid inside than out to accommodate the myriad of ferns and ficuses that provided greenery and absorbed sound.  What distinguished this shopping center more than anything from its east coast counterparts were the customers.  They were, of course, mostly female.  Elizabeth wouldn’t recall seeing a single male here today.  Professional women tried makeup, hats and eyewear at kiosks.  Roving bands of mall rats squealed and giggled annoyingly, thank goodness the girls in her charge were not acting so uncouth, and married mothers, often great with child, herded children from store to store, looking for bargains to cloth their expensive broods.  They were, by and large, from more well to do neighborhoods than the one in which Martha lived.  Those mall rats still in school uniforms tended to wear silk and wool rather than cotton blend and polyester that Elizabeth’s charges wore.  Those same upper middle class mall rats looked sideways at Elizabeth’s girls, noting the low quality of their uniforms.  So, on the surface, it was all quite normal here.

While it was not immediately apparent, this turned out to be a true western setting.  The first thing that made Liz’s eyes pop was a professional woman trying on a hat.  It seemed so normal.  She wore an off white skirt and matching blazer made of fine Egyptian cotton, with a silk necktie dangling down her front.  The woman’s “top” was, in fact, paint!  It was simply painted over her breasts.  Another woman was dressed similarly, but instead had a transparent scarf knotted between her breasts as a top.

They passed all too familiar shops – C&R, Jacob’s Shoes, and the very low brow Fredrick’s.  Amanda’s Boudoir, thankfully, had become the 800lbs Gorilla in women’s intimate apparel, displacing more salacious retailers like Fredrick’s.

True to West Coast values, the sales girls were not clad in professional blouses and black slacks as they would have been back East.  Instead they wore black and white frilly underwear with black silk stalking and black pumps.  They looked terribly vulnerable to Elizabeth’s eyes.

The very white skinned redhead nearest the door looked quite startled when she saw the gaggle of lower middle class teenagers approaching.  Elizabeth accosted the poor woman before she could protest, and before any of the other salesgirls could bar the door.  Liz quickly read the redhead’s nametag.  It said “I’m for sale as CARISSA0167 at amandasboudoir.market”

“Miss Carissa,” said Elizabeth. “I am Mrs. Finney and these are my granddaughters Tina, Dana, Melanie, Sandra and Corrine, and their friends Lorrie, Lana and Lindsey.  We have a special event on Saturday and I need these girls looking like proper ladies in their underthings…” she looked Miss Carissa in the eye, and produced her International Express Platinum Card. “I’m sure you’ll want to check my credit.”

The woman’s surprise was evident for only an instant.  It was very quickly replaced with a delighted smile.

“That won’t be necessary, Mrs. Finney,” said Carissa. “I’m sure we’d be delighted to help the young ladies find what their looking for.”

Carissa took the girls in hand, and Elizabeth was quite proud of the fact that the girls remained on their best behavior, acting like proper ladies.  Well, in behavior, yes, taste, that was another matter.  Dana arrived to show Liz a god awful red and white set that was not worthy of this establishment.

“Dana,” said Elizabeth. “Underthings should enhance a woman’s beauty, not distract from it.  Flamboyance is good under the right circumstances, but you want to be seen, not ignored in favor of what little you’re wearing.”

Carissa nodded. “She’s very right,” the redhead said. “Let’s check over here,” the salesgirl led Dana to a rack of items more suitable.  She selected a very light, almost white pink set, looked toward Elizabeth and smiled when Elizabeth nodded in approval.  When Dana tried it on, she looked… well, delightfully virginal, and quite alluring.  Elizabeth knew then Dana to be a young woman, rather than a little girl…

“Wow, Dana!” said Lindsey.

“You look good enough to eat,” said Cory.

“Really?” said Dana hopefully. “But will Bart like it?”

Late, Elizabeth pulled Lana aside.

“Dear, are you the same size as your mother in the bust line?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Finney,” said the girl. “I had to use her bras when mine kind of… well they grew very fast.”

Elizabeth nodded sympathetically. “We should find something nice for your mother as well.  She’s been a very good friend to my daughter.”

“That’s really nice of you, Mrs. Finney.”

“Well, I’ll need you and your sisters’ help selecting something appropriate.  It should be in her favorite color.”

“That would be yellow,” Lana smiled.

“Remember, classic and simple is better than loud and distracting!”

Elizabeth went looking through the racks herself with Martha’s nakedness re-emerging in her memory.  Martha in ecstasy as Jeanine pleasured her on her own kitchen table replayed in Elizabeth’s mind… as did the image of the two cuddling together with her friend, weeping in the afterglow…

Thank God Jeanine was nothing at all like Georgia Monroe!  And even if she was, she wouldn’t have time to break Martha’s heart.

Elizabeth pulled out a pearl white set that was mostly shimmering lace.  It was beautiful to Liz’s eyes, but she couldn’t imagine Martha in it.

“Dana,” she called.

“Yes Gramma?”

“Which of your sisters is closest to your mother’s size?”

“Tina, I think.”

“What?” Tina’s head came up with her name.

“Tina,” said Liz. “Try these on.  See if they will fit please.”

“But I already picked out a set!”

“They’re for your mother.”

“Oh! Okay!”

As Elizabeth expected, they were perfect.  And she did believe Tina was very near Martha’s size.  They made Tina look classic and virginal…

Later, at the register, Carissa summed up the purchases to over twelve hundred, which made the girls’ eyes pop.  Liz simply handed over her International Express Platinum Card, and accounts were settled.

Within minutes of leaving Amanda’s Boudoir, the group found itself at an Estée Lauder kiosk where faces were painted and nails were manicured.  A light dinner completed the evening.

“We were talking earlier about who would get spitted with their mom if she asked,” said Tina out of the blue.

“And who would?” asked Elizabeth.

“Lindsey would,” said Lana.

“I would,” admitted Lindsey.

“So would I,” said Lorrie.

“You finally decided?” asked Lindsey, to which Lorrie nodded.

“Yeah,” said Lorrie. “I thought about it all afternoon.  I did say I’d do anything to make her happy, and I would.”

“Now that’s very sweet of you, dear,” said Elizabeth.

“How did you ask Mom, Gramma?” asked Tina.

Elizabeth shook her head. “I did not.”

“You didn’t?”

“No,” said Elizabeth. “She was kind enough to offer on her own.”

“So,” said Tina. “You didn’t want her to get spitted with you?”

“Oh, I certainly was hoping she would.  But I simply couldn’t expect it.  And I just couldn’t bring myself to ask.  I doubt any mother who loves her child could bring herself to do that, as much as she might want it.  Martha, your mother, seemed to know my desires instinctively.”

“So,” said Lindsey. “When my mom decides to get spitted, I should offer?”

“I’m quite sure that would be appropriate,” said Elizabeth.

“Gramma,” said Tina. “What else could I do?  I mean, what else is there, aside from volunteering, that would be something I could do for Mom?”

“Well,” Elizabeth was thoughtful. “I know in Kobe, Japan, they massage their girls daily.  They are said to be the most pampered farm girls in the world.  Girls actually volunteer to be Kobe girls.”

“So I should volunteer to be a Kobe Girl?” asked Tina.

“No, no,” Elizabeth laughed. “Not at all.  I’m sorry, I’m not being clear.  All I meant was that a nice massage would probably be a nice thing to do.”

“You went a long way around to get there,” said Dana.

“I do that sometimes, dear,” said Elizabeth.

The limousine was waiting for them at the appointed place when Elizabeth pushed the call button.  They arrived home well past sundown.  Elizabeth checked her watch, it was nine-thirty.  My how time flies…

The Philips girls were quite gracious in showing their appreciation.  Elizabeth found them delightful… and hoped Chester would not be terribly angry with her for spending so much.  But Elizabeth’s reward had yet to come.

“Mrs. Finney,” asked Lana as she said goodnight.

“Yes dear?”

“Can I call you ‘Gramma?’” the girl looked hopeful with luminous dark eyes. “I never knew my real Grandmother.”

Elizabeth was taken aback.  She blushed, and tears stung her eyes. “Of course, dear!”

“Thank you, Gramma!” said Lana with a hug. “Love you!”

“Thank you, Gramma!” said the other two Philips girls. And they rushed away, leaving Elizabeth with an errant tear escaping.

Elizabeth turned t the Limousine driver, handed the woman the call button and a pair of twenty notes.

“Thank you, dear,” she told the woman.

“My pleasure, Ma’am!” said the driver.

Inside, Martha was washing dishes, or had been.  Now she was surrounded with her squealing offspring who gleefully displayed their treasure.  Elizabeth could see through the back screen door three male faces, two of which she knew, who’s expression told her they dared not enter this estrogen sea that had flooded the kitchen.  The girls pulled out Martha’s new pearl white lacey things and begged her to put them on.  Then all decided to model their new attire to the men out back.

Outside, Elizabeth found her husband and son in law enjoying the balmy Arizona November evening with bottle’s of locally brewed beer made by Donald’s friend and co-worker Frank Stolz.  Young Mr. Stolz turned out to be  husband to Martha’s friend Chelsea, who had retired early.  He was, Elizabeth mused, five foot seven, a full two inches shorter than his tall wife and barely an inch taller than Elizabeth herself.  While the girls paraded before the group in their underthings, the men, Donald and Frank, that is, went on and on about this woman from work named Morgan who they were convinced was bent on making their lives miserable.

But all that was forgotten when Martha appeared in her new garb.

“Honey!” Don said, without lying, Elizabeth was convinced. “You look fantastic!”

“Oh, stop,” said Martha.  Of course, husbands always lie to their wives… but Liz was still convinced of Donald’s honesty.  By the color that came to Martha’s creamy bare skin, so was she.

“He’s right, Martha!” said Frank. “You’re definitely one hot milf!”


What’s a milf?” Elizabeth asked.

Chester started laughing, then turned to her and whispered. “It’s an acronym for a mother I’d love to fuck.”

“That’s obscene!” Elizabeth protested.

“That’s the point!” laughed Chester.

“You guys!” Martha said in a whiney, if satisfied, little voice.  She was beat red and playing with her hair. “Oh, Mother! Before I forget.  Bev called.  She doesn’t arrive till noon tomorrow.”

“Noon?  What happened?”

“The earlier flight got cancelled,” Martha said. “She didn’t say why.”

“That’s right,” Chester said. “So I can’t be there.  Why don’t you and Marty take a limo to pick her up.”

“Alright.  Did she say if she’s bringing Jack?” asked Elizabeth.

“He’s not,” said Martha. “She said Deborah is coming, though.”

“”Well,” said Elizabeth. “That’s a shame.”

“Why’s that, Mother?” asked Martha. “I don’t recall you and Jack being close at all… in fact…”

“Yes, dear.  I know.  But it means Beverly won’t be joining us on the table…”

“Oh,” said Martha. “But Jeanine is.”

“What?”

Martha nodded, so did Chester.

“She and officer Ron signed the papers half an hour ago,” said Chester.

“Yeah,” said Frank. “Then they ran off like two horny jackrabbits.”

“I hope that’s alright, darling,” said Chester.

“Oh my!” said Elizabeth. “Yes, Darling.  It’s more than alright.  Jeanine is an even better friend than I thought,” she said, smiling at Martha, who blushed again under her mother’s gaze, this time with real embarrassment.

“Yoo-hoo!” called an annoyingly shrill voice. “Hello all!”

“Hello, Helen,” droned all present less than enthusiastically.

“I found a new recipe for stuffing that you all simply have to try…”
luiscypher
 
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Re: As With Most Days (Story)

Postby luiscypher » July 13th, 2011, 8:32 pm

Part 7

FRIDAY October 6, 2219

As with most days Mom woke Tina and her sisters at quarter to six.  But Mom’s voice was softer this morning.  She did not demand the girls wake up.  Instead she asked.  Tina thought she sounded almost like she was pleading.

Tina noticed as well it was an easy thing to wake up, to get out of bed, and to slip into the shower, unlike any day she could remember before.  She was first there today, though she was usually the last to drag herself in.  Dana was only seconds behind her.

“It feels different,” Tina said aloud.

“What does?” Dana asked.

“Everything,” said Tina as she washed her hair slowly, feeling her own fingers on her scalp as if for the first time.  Tina’s very lungs seemed to be ultra sensitive.  The air had its own texture this morning.  Yes, things had changed.  Tina helped Dana with her hair and makeup, not so much to help Dana, but because she what to remember what it was like.  She even helped Sandy clean the bathroom when all were done.

Downstairs, Tina arrived just in time to see Daddy leave.  He accepted a kiss on the cheek from her and off he went.  Tina watched him go, paying close attention to the sound of the door closing behind him.  Odd, she thought.  He’s not brusque.  He was very careful closing it, as if the door needed to be handled delicately.  The fruit on the table: melon and peaches, she savored, and felt the texture of them with her tongue.

Tina looked at the clock.  Seven.  If she left now, she’d get to the computers in the lab before they were all full up.  Tina stood and gathered her things.

“Where are you going?” asked Dana. “It’s only seven!”

“I… I need to get to the computer lab,” said Tina.

“Why?”

“A little project on Kobe…”

“Hey,” Mom said. “Before you leave, any objection to inviting Deborah to stay with us?”

“Hell yes!” Dana said.

“You don’t want Deborah here?” Mom looked surprised.

“I mean, no, no objection!” Dana said.

“I don’t mind at all,” said Tina evenly.  Deborah was Dana’s confidant.  They kept in touch with snail-mail and email.  Deborah, of course, had her own computer back in New Jersey, as well as her own internet connection.  But Dana had become a Deborah fan ever since the girl revealed she had dated the hottest jock at her school, and dumped him for the hottest nerd at her school.  They were inseparable every time the Cokelys went to New Jersey to visit Gramma.  The last time had been during the height of summer, when Mom liked to get out of the Arizona heat.

“Mom,” Dana asked. “Can I take Deborah to the football game tonight?”

Tina rolled her eyes, knowing now that Dana wanted to show Deborah her prize quarterback.

“I suppose,” said Mom. “Uhm…” Mom paused. “Is this about that boy?  The football player?”

Tina stifled a laugh with a snort.  Mel, Cory and Sandy were not as discrete, openly laughing at Dana.

“What’s so funny?” asked Mom.

Tina looked at Dana who sat there with pleading eyes.

“Bart made out with Dana yesterday,” said Cory.

“Cory!” Dana protested.

“Well, that’s what you told Gramma!”

“I did not!” said Dana.

“Actually,” Tina corrected. “Lindsey did.”

“Lindsey made out with Bart?” Mom asked.

“No!” Dana said.

“Lindsey made out with Dana?” asked Melanie.

“Lindsey told Gramma about Dana and Bart,” said Sandy.

“That’s so romantic!” said Melanie.

Mom looked horrified.

“Don’t worry, Mom.  All they did was kiss.  I was there.  She didn’t even flash him.  Not once!”

“Tina!” protested Dana.

“Okay,” Mom said. “So everyone knew this long before I did?  How come I’m just finding out now?”

“Mom!” Tina said. “He’s coming tomorrow, so you and Dad will meet him BEFORE he even invites Dana out on a date… except, tomorrow’s a date…” Tina thought out loud. “Anyway, I need to scoot.”

Tina felt a bit more herself again.  The surreal lurch the day had started with was, thankfully, subsiding.  She trotted to the front door and opened it to find Jeanine about to knock, with Lana, Lindsey and Lorrie flanking her.  Lorrie, once again, wore her uniform in that “scandalous” way, which seemed to elongate her bare midriff.  And, while Lindsey was, as usual, properly dressed, Lana had emulated Lorrie.  The effect on Lana was to enhance her top-heaviness.  As with Lorrie, Lana had cut her skirt down by half and wore the waistband over her hip bones.

Tina almost laughed, but stopped herself.

“Good morning,” she said instead.

“Leaving already?” asked Jeanine.

“Yes,” said Tina. “I need to get a computer before classes start.  What’s up?”

“Do you have to?” asked Lorrie. “I was kinda counting on your being here.”

“Oh?” asked Tina. “So, what’s up?”

“Lorrie,” said Jeanine. “If Tina needs to go, she needs to go…”

“What’s so important?” asked Lana.

Tina was hesitant, not wanting to tell and have her plan ruined.  But she answered anyway.

“I need to do some research on Kobe…”

“Oh!” Lana said. “Mom, I need to go with Tina.”

“What?” Lorrie said. “What’s going on?”

Jeanine was looking at Lana suspiciously. “Why?” she asked.

“It’s a project I completely forgot about!  C’mon, Tina,” Lana said. “Let’s go!”

“See you guys later,” said Tina, not at all sure about Lana’s motives.

“What was that about?” Jeanine could be heard behind them.

The two walked a ways in silence.

“Kobe meat girls,” said Lana when the two were out of earshot.  “Massage, right?”

Tina shrugged.

“Thanks for letting me tag along.  I sure didn’t want to be in there when my mom drops her bombshell…”

“What’s that?” Tina asked.

“It’s a tidbit of information designed to shock people,” grinned Lana. “Anyway… after we left you guys. We showed my parents the stuff we got.  We were all excited.  But then my mom told us she’d be getting spitroasted with your mom tomorrow.”

“Bullshit!” Tina stopped walking.

“No bullshit!  I’m serious!” Lana’s expression was sincere. “My dad said he was having a hard time saving up for the license for Mom’s spitroasting, so now was the time.”

“Wow,” said Tina, starting to move again.

“Anyway,” said Lana. “That’s not all.”

“Don’t tell me, you’re doing it too!”

Lana laughed.

“Actually,” said Lana. “After we went to bed Linds and Lorrie were talking till late about which one of them should… it was so annoying, they wouldn’t let me sleep.”

“And?”

“They’re still undecided, which shouldn’t surprise you…”

That made Tina laugh.

“No, you! No You! No Me! No Me!” Tina emulated a scene between Lorrie and Lindsey they both knew from years ago.  It caused Lana to go into a giggle fit.

“Anyway,” Tina said at length. “You were saying?”

“What?” Lana said, wiping her eyes. “Oh, yeah!  Mom said… and don’t hate me for telling you this…. She said she and your mom had sex!”

“She did not!” said Tina. “I’m calling bullshit!”

“That’s what she said!” said Lana. “That’s why she ran us over to your place first thing this morning!  She felt all guilty about telling us.”

Tina could hardly believe her ears.  She knew it was true, somehow.  She remembered the softness of mom’s lips on her own last evening… and, heaven help her… the promise she’d made to Mom… what if she asks…?

“Wow,” Tina said as she started walking.

“Yeah,” said Lana.

“My god”

“Exactly!”

Then something dawned on Tina.

“Lana, I told you what I was doing and you get it, right?”

“I think so.”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“You’re going to try to find out about how the Japanese massage their special livestock girls… probably so you can do it for Martha.”

“Exactly.  But I didn’t know my mom and your mom… were… lesbians.”

“They’re bisexual,” Lana corrected.

“So you knew, and you’re coming with me?  Why?”

“I thought it would be a nice idea,” said Lana.

Tina looked at her.  “What if you’re giving Jeanine a massage and she… you know…”

“Oh!” said Lana. “Oh!”  It was Lana’s turn to stop, and she turned a little red. “What about you?”

Tina thought about it, then shrugged. I made Mom a promise.  I told her I’d do anything to make her happy.”

“And you’re keeping it?” Lana struggled to keep up.

“Yep?”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Me too!” said Lana.

Tina favored Lana with a smile.

“But,” Tina said. “Don’t spill any of this to anyone else.  I really want to be… you know… I want to give my mom something nobody else thought of.”

Lana nodded. “’Kay!” she said as the two went up the main steps into Poppyfield High.  Inside Principle Daniels was posting notes on the main bulletin board.  As he turned his gaunt, bespectacled and mustachioed face to the girls, he nodded to them.

“Good morning, Ladies,” he said.

Tina thought him an attractive older man.  It was also not lost on her that his last two wives had been students from this school.

“Good morning, Mr. Daniels,” Tina said. “Is the computer lab open yet?”

“I just opened it.”

“Thank you!” replied Tina. “Oh, before I forget,” Tina added. “Did you know both my mom and my grandmother are getting spitroasted tomorrow?”

“My mom too!” reminded Lana.

“I did hear about that,” said Mr. Daniels. “Yes.”

“Well,” Tina said. “My gramma wants me to make sure the faculty is invited.”

“Does she now?”

“Yes, she does.  She especially wants to meet you, Mr. Daniels.”

“Me?  Why me?”

“Well,” Tina said.  “She heard I like to flash you, so she’s interested in your thoughts on the shape of my bottom…”

Mr. Daniels’ expression was so priceless, it made Tina’s week.  He turned beat red with embarrassment and had a hard time looking at either of the girls.

Tina grinned. “But seriously… you are invited.  And I’d like it very much if you came.”

“I… uhm…” he said, still a bit flustered.

“Please?”

Ne finally nodded, seeming to swallow hard and force a smile.

Tina smiled back, and she took Lana and the two scurried away toward the computer lab.

“I think he likes you,” said Lana.
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Re: As With Most Days (Story)

Postby luiscypher » July 13th, 2011, 8:37 pm

Part 8

As with most days at breakfast, Martha fussed over her girls.  Tina’s early departure made her curious, but not worried.  It was forgotten the moment Jeanine walked into the kitchen with two of her three youngest in tow.

“Where’s Lana?” Martha asked.

“She ran off with Tina,” said Lindsey. “They were being very… secretive.”

“They were, too!” said Lorrie, who did not look pleased.

Martha served more coffee to her guests, thinking nothing unusual as it was common for Jeanine to show up early with her girls.  But she noted her friend’s nervous face.

“Is something wrong?” Martha asked Jeanine.

“I… uhm…” Jeanine started. Lindsey went to speak but Jeanine silenced her with a hand gesture.

“Martha,” Jeanine looked up with soul filled eyes. “I screwed up.”

“How?”

“Last night, when the girls came home… I told them…”

“That you’re getting cooked tomorrow?  I hope so… you’re not changing your mind are you?  You already signed and knowing my father, he’s already on his way to file the papers!”

“Wait,” said Melanie. “Jeanine’s getting cooked, too?”

“When did you decide?” asked Sandy.

“Well… I decided when I found out Martha was doing it for sure,” Jeanine said. “No, I didn’t change my mind.  But, Martha… I, I’m so sorry.  I told the girls everything else that happened too.”

“What?” Martha said having half understood, then it dawned on her what it meant. “Oh!”

“Martha, I’m soo sorry…”

Martha shook her head… trying to clear it…

“What else happened?” asked Sandy.  The rest of Martha’s daughters turned toward their mother with confused looks.

Martha was thoughtful for a moment or two.  She was flushed, of course.  One does not avoid a feeling of embarrassment when the gory details of one’s sex life are spread around.  But why should they not know?  It was no longer illegal, and had not been for a year.  And what was anyone going to do about it?  Cull her?

Martha forced a smile. “Jeanine and I… we’ve become lovers.  We’re having sex with each other.” Oh yes, their faces were more shocked than Martha had thought they’d be. “Right here, on this table.”

Of course she’d told Donald last night.  And, of course, Donald being Donald, he’d enjoyed her story then savagely taken her again and again, leaving her spent and so exhausted she’d had the deepest sleep she’d experienced in many months.

“We’re not lesbians,” Jeanine was correcting Sandy. “We’re bisexual.  And I’ve loved your mom for a long, long time… and I still do!”

“Well,” said Lindsey at length. “I don’t know what the big deal is… if you love each other, and dad is okay with it and Don is okay with it… Don is okay with it, right?”

Martha nodded.

“Where’s the fire?” asked Chester, suddenly appearing in the Kitchen’s doorway.

“My mom was just telling us that she and Martha are having sex,” blurted Lorrie.

“You’re just finding out now?” asked Chester. “Haven’t they been lovers for years?”

Martha and Jeanine gave nervous laughs.

“Is that what you thought?” asked Martha.

“Of course, Dear,” said Mrs. Finney. “The way you touched each other… you were not exactly discrete.”

“Our first time together was yesterday,” said Jeanine.

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

“Well…” said Mrs. Finney. “You were beautiful together.”

“You saw them, Gramma?” asked Cory.

Well… I…” Mrs. Finney blushed. “I did.”

“Wow,” said Dana.

“Well,” said Melanie. “I think it’s romantic!”

“You think everything’s romantic,” said Cory.

“I think it’s romantic as well, Melanie,” said Mrs. Finney.

“Gramma’s right,” said Lindsey. “Now can we not be all ridiculous about this anymore?  It’s so stupid.”

Martha and Jeanine exchanged glances when Lindsey said “Gramma.”  Jeanine shrugged.

“It’s time to go, anyway,” said Sandy. “Bye Mom!” she came and hugged Martha, then hugged Jeanine.  The parade of girls followed that pattern.

“Is there anymore coffee?” asked Chester after the girls had all filed out, and Martha served. “Liz,” he said. “Do you want the car, or would you rather I call a limo again?”

“The limousine was nice, darling.  If you don’t mind, I’d like ask for it again.  And the same driver if you can get her.”

“What exactly are you doing in all these meetings, Dad?” asked Martha.

“Old friend of mine,” he said as he dialed. “Ebenezer Jessup. He’s a professor of economics back in Georgia and wants to me to scout locations for a new university.  I figured, while I’m here… hello, yes I need a limousine…”

“So who’s he meeting with today, Mother?”

“The mayor, I believe,” said Mrs. Finney. “I can hardly keep track of all his acquaintances.  Jeanine, would you like to come with us to meet my daughter Beverly?”

“Uh, sure.  I’d love to come, Mrs. Finney.”

“Please call me Liz,” said Mrs. Finney. “I should even unofficially adopt you as your daughters have done with me.  You’re practically family, I think, all things considered,” she glanced at Martha. “They are delightful, by the way.  Your girls are.”

“Thank you, Liz,” Jeanine said in a small voice.

“Ten thirty alright, dear?” asked Chester.

“That should be ideal,” said Mrs. Finney… I mean Liz.

Liz turned to Martha. “Dear,” she said. “Can you do something for me?  It’s a small thing, and I hope you can, because it would mean a great deal to me.”

“Of course, Mother?”

Liz smiled. “Can you take off that hideous pink polyester snap front house dress from hell and never wear it again in my presence?  Go naked if you must, but please don’t insult your beauty with it again.”

“What should I change into?” Martha asked.

“Naked is good,” Chester said.

“Daad!”

“Naked is fine with me too,” grinned Jeanine.

“You’re not helping!”

“Martha,” said Liz. “Do you remember that blue and white outfit you wore to that disaster of a garden party we had during your senior year.”

“The white cutoffs and blue halter-blouse?”

“Yes.”

“You hated that outfit!”

“Oh, no I did not.  I thought it made you look adorable.  What I hated was what people said about you when you wore it.”

“Oh.”

“Do you still have it?”

“I do, actually.  I don’t know if it still fits…”

“Oh, silly girl, of course it fits.  You’re as trim as you were when you were fifteen.  Do go put it on for me, please?”

Martha nodded and went upstairs, leaving Jeanine at her mother’s mercy and feeling guilty about doing that again.  It took a few minutes to find the cutoffs, but she did find them.  They were ridiculously short.  They reminded her of Lorrie’s skirt, because when she put them on, they left her hip bones exposed and the top half of her mound visible.  They couldn’t be worn with any panties Martha had.  She’d had forgotten they were that revealing.  The royal blue halter blouse was basically a blouse that was cut to be tied underneath the breasts.    And mother wanted her to wear this?  Martha went braless, hoping Mother would change her mind on this outfit.  She wasn’t sure she wanted to parade around in it today.  Not with mother here.

Martha regarded herself in the floor length mirror in her bedroom.  She felt naked, and looked like a woman who wanted to be stripped forcibly… keep mother happy, keep mother happy, keep mother happy!  She went downstairs.  By the time she arrived back in the kitchen, Chelsea was there sharing her ultra sound images.

“Four!” said Liz. “My word, dear.  You will need a wet-nurse.  I certainly did.”

“You had four at a time?” asked Chelsea.

“Twice,” said Liz. “My first two litters were quadruplets.  My last three, however, were triplets.  Four would have been too much, and absolutely too many for one woman to nurse.”

“I don’t know if we can afford one,” said Chelsea.

“Don’t be silly, dear. Ask one of Martha’s girls.  Her youngest will be seniors when your litter is born.  I’m sure Melanie or Sandy would be happy to help out.”

“That’s a great idea!  Martha, whatcha think?  Nice outfit!  Is it new?”

Martha did not want to blush with this much skin exposed, but she did anyway.

“Martha,” said Jeanine. “You look good enough to eat!”

“In more ways than one,” said Chester. “Oh, Liz, Naomi just sent me a text.  She got the phone.”

“Oh, good.”

“She says to call after eleven.”

“I’ll need the phone, then, darling.”

“My Naomi?” asked Martha.

“Yes,” said Chester. “You mentioned last night you were having a hard time getting in touch with the girls at college.  So I ordered a phone and had it delivered to their dormer.”

“That’s great, Daddy!” Martha said. “Thank you!”

“My pleasure,” said Chester. “I must go, the Mayor, I’m told is an impatient man.  Congratulations on your son, Chelsea!”

“Thanks Chester!” said Chelsea. “I have to go too.  I’ll talk to you guys later.”

“Wow,” said Jeanine, after the three were alone.

“What?” asked Martha.

“Funny how we three spitmuffins seem to always end up alone together.

Liz laughed jovially at that.

“What’s so funny?” Martha asked.

“I’ve never heard the term ‘spitmuffin’ before, much less been called one.”

Liz, Martha and Jeanine spent the next half hour doing the few chores there were to do in the Cokely home, before moving on to work in the Philips home.  Jeanine had a more lagging list of chores, but the three of them knocked those out quickly and were just finished when the limousine arrived.

“Hello, again,” Liz said to the driver.

“Hello, ma’am.  Thank you for requesting me!”

“Not at all, dear.  Tell me, is this vehicle equipped with a system for conference by phone?”

“It is, ma’am,” said the woman. She pointed to a console on the door’s interior panel. “Plug your phone in here, and press this button for speaker conference.  You can also use these headsets, which I think work much better.”

“Thank you, dear.  Shall we go?”

Martha slipped in behind Jeanine and sat next to her on the rear-facing seat while Liz took the middle of the back seat.  She couldn’t help but luxuriate on the plush seats made of soft dyed blue skin.

“It is a shame,” said Liz as the limousine pulled away. “That Beverly won’t be joining us on the spit.”

“At least she’s coming,” said Martha.

“There is that,” nodded Liz.

Martha looked over at Jeanine, who smiled.  Jeanine put her hand on Martha’s bare thigh and caressed it twice, then let her hand rest there.

“We need to find time,” said Jeanine.

Martha nodded, nervously.

“Precious little of it left,” said Liz. “We have but little more than a day left.  Oh, don’t look at me like that Jeanine.  Those eyes of yours make me want to weep when you put on that look.  Oh do make her stop, Martha.  Kiss her, or make love to her, but don’t let her look so soulful…”

Jeanine did not need any further encouragement.  She did kiss Martha.  Not only that, she consumed Martha’s mouth hungrily.  Martha was so overwhelmed by the sensation it was after her halter-blouse was off that she realized she was half naked and about to be fully naked as Jeanine already had her button fly undone on the white cutoffs.

“Wait,” said Martha. “Wait, please!”  Jeanine sighed, and buried her head in Martha’s shoulder. “Mother… Mom,” continued Martha. “You said you’d tell me about Silvie.”

“Yes dear, I will.  What is it you want to know?”

Martha took a breath as Jeanine was sliding the cutoffs down Martha’s thighs.

“Just a few days before Silvie was cooked, she called me.  She told me she had had sex with Dad.”

Liz’ brow went up.  She looked surprised, but not shocked to Martha.

“Is that all she told you?” asked Liz.

“No,” Martha said, but she did not elaborate.

Liz sighed. “You remember that Silvie was something of a romantic.  She was like Melanie that way.  She also had that very mirthful, sometimes nasty sense of humour like Tina  and… no, not like Naomi,” she paused. “Who we need to call in thirty minutes.  Anyway, she’d had her heart broken by a boy, and her grades started failing to the point she was going to get culled.  So your father preempted it.  You know that she was spitroasted a week later at the country club.  But she was a virgin and loathed the idea of being a virgin on a spit.  So your father and I spent the next seven wonderful nights with Silvie in our bed.”

“You both did?” asked Martha, who was a bit shocked.

“Did she not tell you?”

“Not that part!”

“Oh,” said Liz. “I suppose she might have been protecting me.  It was illegal at the time, and I would probably have been culled had I been caught.  But that was fifteen years ago.  You’ve been curious about it all this time?”

Martha shook her head as Jeanine fondled her body.

“Beverly and I have been going back and forth about this since that time…”

“Goodness,” said Liz. “I had no idea!  It is a shame it took us so long to start speaking honestly to each other, Martha,” she said. “My my… you truly do have such a beautiful body.”

Jeanine had handed Martha’s clothing to Liz, who set them beside her, then stripped off herself, giving away her signature yellow tee first, then her bra, shorts and ratty cotton panties to Liz.

Then Jeanine turned to Martha.  It was Martha’s turn to be the submissive in this affair as Jeanine explored her body in ways Martha would never have imagined.  But all the while, Martha was aware of her mother, sitting on the back seat, watching them, studying them.  Any time Martha thought her crotch on display for her mother she blushed and closed her legs.  Even so, Martha almost managed to lose herself in the sensations Jeanine inflicted upon her.  She felt both humiliated and adored by both women, but her body, while coming to the brink, would not climax.

Jeanine, however, did, multiple times as Martha teased her friend’s large clitoris with finger and tongue.  Jeanine lay on top of Martha for many moments after, clothing Martha with the warmth of her own body.

“You didn’t come,” said Jeanine.

“Stage fright,” replied Martha.

“Inhibitions can be a terrible thing,” said Liz. “No,” she said to Jeanine as Jeanine went to retrieve her clothing. “I’d like to enjoy looking at you for a while longer, please.”

Liz touched a key on the phone which she’d mounted to the door console.  It rang.

“Hello?” came a voice over the speaker.

“Naomi?”

“Yes?”

“It’s your grandmother.”

“Gramma! Hi!  Where are you?  You sound like you’re in a tunnel.”

“Just a moment, then,” said Liz. She fished three headsets out of the console and distributed them, donning one herself.

“How do I sound now, Naomi?”

“Much better!” said the coed. “I’m trying to dodge taggers today, so if I hang up on you suddenly, that’s why!”

“Be careful, honey!”

“Mom?  Is that you?”

“Yes it is.  How are you?”

“I’m fine.  So Gramma is there to get roasted?”

“Not just Gramma,” said Martha. “Me too.”

“Oh my god! Mom!”

“It’s true, honey.  I wish you could be here.”

“But I’ll miss you!”

“I know, sweetie.  I love you very much.  But you knew this day was coming.”

“Wow, I wish I could be there tomorrow!  I have this lecture I can’t miss, so I can’t!”

“It’s alright, honey.  I’ll give everyone your love.”

“I love you, Mom!  Oh, here comes Adam!  He’ll keep me safe.  He’s a tagger, but he’s also my boyfriend.

“Who you talking to?” asked a male voice in the background.

“My mom,” said Naomi.

“Naomi,” said Jeanine. “It’s Jeanine, from next door?”

“Oh, Hi Jeanine!”

“Are Maddy or Miley around at all?  Do you ever talk to them?”

“Every day,” said Naomi. “I’ll see them at lunch, in like, fifteen minutes.”

“Oh, good!” said Jeanine.

“Naomi,” said Martha. “Jeanine’s getting roasted with us!”

“Really!”

“Yes, so if you can have Miley and Maddy use this phone to call…”

“Absolutely.  So it’s a threesome, hey?” Naomi giggled at her own joke.

“Not quite,” said Liz. “Your mother and Jeanine haven’t invited me into their sexual adventures yet.”

“Oh, Gramma!  You’re so… what’s that word you like so much?  You’re such a naughty girl!”

“Oh, not so naughty as your mother and Jeanine.  We’re on the way to pick up Aunt Beverly and your cousin Deborah at the airport, and they are sitting naked in front of me in a limousine in the afterglow of a lovely sexual adventure.”

“Mom, it’s a joke right?”

“Well…” Martha said trying to hide the embarrassment in her voice.

“It’s not a joke,” said Jeanine, completely confidently. “It’s all true.”

“Oh, wow!  I don’t know what to say!”

“Just so you know,” said Jeanine. “Your father is fine with it, as are Miley and Maddy’s dad.  Everyone knows by now about it, I think.”

“Well,” said Naomi. “That’s really nice.  What do the girls say about it?”

“Melanie said it was romantic,” said Liz.

“She thinks everything is romantic,” said Naomi. “Good for her!  God, I’m… you know what?  The girls on this campus are pretty libertine.  I heard they weren’t before the law changed, but when it did… now having girls on girls is kinda all the rage, you know?  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised when my own mom and her best friend find they like each other even more than they thought.”

“That’s very well put, dear,” said Liz.

“Thank you, baby,” said Martha, her eyes tearing up. “Thank you…”

“Okay,” said Naomi. “Mom, I love you, I’ll try and talk to again later, maybe tomorrow.  Jeanine, I’ll have Maddy and Miley call soon as I find them.”

“Thanks, Naomi!” said Jeanine.

“I gotta go! Love you!” and the phone clicked off.

Fifteen minutes later, they were back in their outfits and in the terminal at Sky Harbor Airport.  Jeanine was explaining things to Madeline over the phone with some tears.  She finally hung up as the two other women looked on.

“I just said goodbye to my baby,” said Jeanine.

“I know,” said Martha, stroking Jeanine’s back.

Jeanine smiled. “You know, she’s thrilled we’re lovers!”

“Really?”

“She said: ‘About time!’ her words!”

Several arrivals were announced, among them Beverly’s.  When Beverly and Deborah appeared, they looked like sisters rather than mother and daughter.  So much so, in fact, Martha had a hard time telling which was which at first.  Both wore their wheat blonde hear pinned up elegantly and sported Elizabeth’s hazel eyes and clear, creamy skin.  Both wore two inch heels with sheer black silk stalking.  One wore a slate gray wool knit dress, long sleeve dress with oversized turtleneck that form fitted Deborah or Beverly’s body.  The other wore a cream colored blouse and dark purple pinstriped skirt.

“Gramma!” shouted Deborah, revealing herself to be the one in blouse and skirt.  Beverly strode directly to Martha and gave her a tight embrace.

“Hey, you!” said Beverly. “God, I’m glad I got to see you again.  Hello, Mother!”

“How was your flight, dear?” asked Liz.

“Long,” said Beverly.

“Some sheik bought a stewardess,” said Deborah. “Hi, Aunt Marty,” she embraced Martha.

“Bev, Deborah, this is my best friend, Jeanine Philips.”

“Well,” said Beverly. “It’s nice to finally meet you after hearing about you for so long!  I always envy the adventures you and Marty have!”

Jeanine took Beverly’s offered hand. “She’s been a great friend,” she said. “But, wow.  Beauty sure runs in this family!”

Beverly blushed demurely.

“And I love that dress,” said Jeanine.

“Really?  My husband says I spend way too much money on cloths,” Beverly said. “But I think he’d rather I just walk around naked.”

“It’s awfully cold for that back home this time of year for that,” said Deborah.

“But not here,” said Liz. “I’m sure we’ll all find time to spend in the nude soon enough.  It’s far more relaxed here in the Southwest than we are used to.”

A woman strode by wearing only body paint over her breasts to go with her skirt.  Both Deborah and Beverly’s eyes popped out.

“I can see that…” said Beverly.

“Where do we collect your luggage,” asked Liz.

“We only brought carryons,” said Deborah.

“Well,” said Liz. “I suppose we could be off then.  Should we have lunch?”

They agreed to go to a restaurant in Phoenix.  The limousine driver recommended Vincenzo’s on East Camelback which had a unique take on continental food.  They were there shortly and dining on succulent loin cuts.

“Marty,” asked Beverly as the food arrived. “Is that the outfit from the garden party fiasco?”

“It is,” Martha smiled.

“What fiasco?” asked Jeanine.

Liz laughed heartily and told Jeanine about how she had, during Martha’s senior year in high school, tried to set her up with a promising young man who she cared for not at all.  So she bought and wore this scandalous, for the time and place, outfit to meet and greet guests coming to the garden party Liz had arranged for the occasion.  As it turned out, the boy’s parents so disapproved of Martha’s outfit, they forbid him from being seen anywhere near her.  The outfit was the talk of the country club and the high school for weeks after.

“But the boy married one of Martha’s friends,” said Liz. “But she only lived till her eldest was ten, then he traded her in for a new model.”

Martha felt sullen.

“Don’t worry, Dear,” said Liz. “I asked Marty to wear the outfit.  It reminds me of how precious our time is and how horrible I was for that day.”

Martha had never been called “Marty” by her mother before, at least not in her presence.  Hearing it, as if Mother had been using it forever was unsettling and Martha knew not what to make of it.

Back in the limousine, Beverly and Deborah flanked Liz in the back seat.  As they sped home Beverly spoke of the country club, describing it and the various characters that inhabited it to Martha and even more so to Jeanine.  In general, Beverly liked the people there, but had little tolerance for those who were sycophants of Georgia Monroe.  Georgia she truly loathed.

“This is a woman who lords over all, never fails to remind us her husband served the ambassador in London, and that she was presented to the queen…”

“I can’t stand the Monroes at all,” said Deborah. “I don’t know how Gramma can.”

“She’s quite a bridge player,” said Liz.

“I mentioned you were getting roasted this weekend only an hour after you told me,” said Beverly. “And wouldn’t you know it, she pats my arm and says, ‘yes, luv, I know!’ You told her first, Mother!  How could you?”

“I did not!”

“Then how did she already know?”

Then Liz eyes went mirthful and she began laughing hysterically.”

“What’s so funny?” Beverly asked with true annoyance in her tone.

“My darling,” said Liz. “What Georgia does not know is that she will be roasted on Sunday.”

“What?  How is that?”

Liz wiped the laughing tears from her eyes. “I’m the lowest ranked player at the moment,” said Liz. “I would be roasted if I were to participate in the finals on Sunday… and the club bylaws say I must, I’m obligated to… unless I’m already gone.  Georgia is subject to the exact same rules as everyone else in the club.  She wrote them, and that is the irony.  She is, right now, the second lowest ranked player behind me.”

“Oh!” said Beverly. “So she thought… oh my god!  Mother, you’re not that devious!”

“I beg to differ,” said Liz. “I’m as devious as I need to be… besides, Georgia was ruining the debutante ball, and we can’t have that.”

Martha had been watching the exchange completely perplexed at first, then very much aware of the woman she’d grown up under.  Mother was who she was on the surface.  There was a whole other person underneath.  That planner was the one she found to be the most frightening.

“God, it will serve them right,” said Deborah.

“Serve who right?” asked Liz.

“Cambria and Asia Monroe.  They’re debutantes.  I almost wish I was going to be there.”

“You’re not?” asked Martha.

“No,” said Deborah.

“Deborah,” said Martha changed the subject. “Dana is looking forward to your coming.  Would you like to stay at our house instead of the hotel tonight?”

“Uhm,” said Deborah. “Alright.  Or she could stay with me and Mom at the hotel!”

“Alright,” said Martha. “You two can work it out when you see her.

An awkward silence descended upon the limousine’s rear compartment.  Martha was suddenly aware of Jeanine and her own barely clothed bodies so close together in the rear facing seat and Jeanine’s body heat radiated next to Martha in stark contrast to the limousine’s air conditioning.  Martha was also keenly aware of her proper family, her sister and mother quite properly dressed across from her...

So, Deborah,” Jeanine said. “Why aren’t you going to the debutante ball?”

“I won’t be there for it,” Deborah evaded. “But my sisters will.  Caitlin, oh my god, it’s all she talks about.”

“Incessantly,” said Beverly.

“One of the boys actually asked to be here escort.  Rommie doesn’t care so much.  That’s my older twin.  She’ll get assigned an escort and be perfectly happy with whoever.  But Cait, it means a lot to her.”

“It sounds like you’re very protective of Caitlin,” observed Jeanine.

“We all are,” replied Deborah. “I mean, she barely made it through her junior year.  It’s a miracle she’s still around to attend the ball.”

“Caitlin’s as pretty a thing as they come,” said Martha to Jeanine.
“Well,” said Jeanine. “In your family that’s saying quite a bit.  I’ve never seen a family with so many beautiful women in it.”

“Beauty isn’t everything,” said Beverly defensively.

“But it is something,” said Jeanine. “If nothing else, you look good on a spit,” she grinned.

“Is a spitmuffin supposed to look good on a spit?” asked Liz.

“A ‘spitmuffin’?” asked Beverly.

“Yeah, mom!” said Deborah. “Don’t worry, Gramma. You’ll make a great looking spitmuffin.”

“I daresay I’ll be a novelty in this part of the country.”

“It’s a shame Josh couldn’t be here,” said Martha. “Couldn’t he make time?”

“Apparently not,” said Beverly. “Where did you hear the term ‘spitmuffin’, Deborah?”

“At school,” replied the young blonde. “One of the transfer students from California says that’s what they say there.”

“It’s true,” said Jeanine. “That’s what we always said.  I’m originally from San Francisco,” Jeanine said to Beverly. “Josh is your husband, right?”

“He is,” Beverly said simply.

“Mom’s mad at Daddy for not coming,” said Deborah.

“I’m sure he is far more annoyed with me,” said Liz. “I only told him on Wednesday evening what my intentions were.”

“Well,” said Beverly. “He has a new wife lined up already.  It would have been nice if he could be more accommodating to his own family.”

“Wait,” said Jeanine. “I’m confused.  I thought you were only thirty eight?”

“I am,” said Beverly.

“And you have ten kids.”

“I do.  Well, I did.”

“I thought… Martha says that buys you extra time?”

“It does,” said Beverly. “But my marriage is, shall we say, a bit of a drag.  Neither of us is happy.  But I have daughters in Yale, Princeton and Cornell.  It looks like Rommie might get into Stanford or Harvard.  Caitlin is very likely to marry her boyfriend, who I adore… and I have my own diversions.”

“Yes you do,” said Deborah, smirking.

Beverly gave Deborah a quick look Martha couldn’t quite decipher.  Some secret, perhaps?

“Oh Martha,” said Beverly. “I do wish I’d come sooner.”

Martha smiled. “So do I.”

If you had,” said Liz. “You’d have witnessed the budding romance between your sister and her friend.”

“Oh?” Beverly raised a brown. “Is something wrong between you and Don?”

“No,” Martha said. “Nothing at all is wrong.”

“Actually,” said Liz. “Everyone is quite happy for Martha and Jeanine.”

“No way!” exclaimed Deborah.

“Seriously?” Beverly grinned, and Martha gave a little nod.

“That’s hot!” said Deborah. “The stuck up girls at our school still tease lesbians ruthlessly.  They can’t use it to get them culled anymore, but they still make their lives miserable.  They say it’s a man-hating thing.”

“To be fair, dear,” said Liz. “Lesbianism is a form of hatred toward men.  But Jeanine and Martha are bisexuals.  I know quite well they both love their husbands very much.  You’ll find Ron, Jeanine’s husband, to be a very amiable man.”

“I like him,” smiled Jeanine.

Martha wanted, more than anything, to be away and alone with Jeanine somewhere, anywhere but here at the moment.  The discussion of her sex life with three generations of her family was truly embarrassing her and setting her on edge the more the conversation went on.  She lay her head back on the seat, then rolled it over onto Jeanine’s shoulder and shut her eyes for a few moments, hoping it would all go away.

“You guys are so cute together,” said Deborah, once again intruding on Martha’s senses.

“They are indeed,” said Liz.

“Hey, Aunt Marty,” said Deborah.  Martha opened her eyes again and faced her niece. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Sure,” Martha smiled politely.

Deborah reached over with one arm and put her palm on Elizabeth’s cheek, directing the older woman’s face toward her own.  Then the girl planted a kiss on her grandmother that sucked the wind out of Martha’s lungs.

Liz had initially offered resistance to the assault, but submitted in short order to Deborah’s assertive advance.  Deborah’s hand landed on her grandmother’s belly and came up to cup the older woman’s breast.

“God I love doing that,” said Deborah as Liz panted in the aftermath. “I wish you’d get a dress like Mom’s, Gramma.  It’s so much easier to get off.”

Martha’s senses were suddenly on fire, and Jeanine’s hand that had hovered over Martha’s breast was now gripping it.

“I…” Martha started. “Mom, I’m…”

“She’s my whore,” said Deborah. “So is your sister.” Deborah added as she pulled Liz’s dress off her shoulders and below her bra. “The first time I raped Gramma I did it in front of Grampa.” She unclasped Liz’s bra, and took it from her. “He was a very good audience.”  Liz offered only timid reluctance.

“Mom,” said Deborah. “Why don’t you sit between Martha and Jeanine and give us some space.”

Martha obeyed Deborah’s wishes and scooted over to make room for Beverly, and Beverly slid over in submissive obedience to her mistress/daughter.

Deborah touched the intercom button to the driver.

“Driver,” she said. “We’ll need a little time.  Can you add half an hour to our trip?”

“Yes ma’am,” said the driver over the intercom speaker.

“Thank you,” Deborah told the driver.  Then she drew Liz over her lap face down, and shifted to the middle of the back seat so that her lap was under Liz’s hips.  As she was pushing up Liz’s dress, she was looking Martha directly in the eye. “You look perplexed, Aunt Marty.  Didn’t you know Gramma’s greatest fantasy is to be humiliated?”

Martha shook her head ‘no,” and continued to watch as Deborah drew off Liz’s panties.

“You’ve been a bit naughty, Gramma,” said Deborah. “Did I not tell you to explain things to Aunt Marty?”

“Yes, my love,” said Liz in a shaky voice.

Martha’s hand slipped over Beverly’s, which was trembling heavily.

Deborah smacked Liz’s bare bottom five times to which Liz squealed each time and sobbed in the aftermath.  Deborah put Liz’s underthings in her purse and drew from it a cruel looking phallus carved from dark wood.  It was long and ribbed with a handle on one end.  Martha watched with morbid fascination as Deborah forced Liz’s knees apart, exposing the older woman’s sex.  It was bare, as if it had recently been waxed, and it glistened with moisture and seemed to hungrily consume the phallus as Deborah forced it in.

Liz gasped.

Deborah pulled Liz back into a seated position directly in front of her and once again forced Liz’s knees apart.  But Liz opened them more willingly this time, showing her mound to be adorned with a nicely groomed patch of light brown pubic hair that seemed to embrace only the top of Liz’s cleft.

Deborah’s fingers found that cleft as she reached around with the other hand to work the phallus.  She worked it slowly at first, as she gingerly massaged Liz’s pleasure center, but her efforts slowly gained momentum.  Soon, Liz was panting and gasping, her surprisingly firm breasts bobbing as Deborah extracted orgasms from her grandmother without mercy.

Martha glanced over and did a double take.  Jeanine had her hand inside her own open shorts and was masturbating shamelessly.  Beverly was cupping her own breast, seeming to tease her nipples through the thick wool of her dress.

Martha’s own body was reacting to the domination of her mother.  The thought of trading places occurred to her.  But did she really want that?

Liz gushed onto the carpet, her body shuddering finally with her head laid back over Deborah’s shoulder, moaning at the ceiling.  Deborah put her lips to Liz’s neck and sucked hard, leaving and ugly mark there.

“Don’t disobey me again,” warned Deborah.

“No, my love,” promised Liz.

The scene soon shifted as Deborah helped Liz reassemble her dress, but denying Liz her undergarments when she asked for them.

Martha simply sat in shock, unable to think of anything to say.  She met her mother’s eyes and found that it was true: Liz was basking in her own humiliation.

The limousine came to a stop, and the passenger side door came open, and Martha became aware that they’d arrived home.  She was the first to step out of the Limousine.  Her only thought was to get away, far away from what she’d just seen.

What met Martha was no less unexpected than what she’d just witnessed.  Dozens… no, hundreds of her neighbors were awaiting her outside the Limousine in front of her house.  As soon as she appeared, they began to applaud enthusiastically.

She recognized many, others she did not.  John and Nina Haskell were there from three blocks over, on Tulip, she remembered.  Their son was the quarterback for the highschool football team that Dana wanted to date.  John proudly wore a gray sweat shirt displaying the logo for the Poppyfield Sidewinders.  Nina wore nothing but shoes, bra and panties.  Chelsea was likewise dressed, and her husband Frank wore a Sidewinders t-shirt.  Brad Blakely was there as well, grinning like a fool as he applauded and looking not at all hen pecked next to Helen, who’s thong seemed ill able to handle the wide expanse of her hips and who’s bra seemed overwhelming to her modest chest.

In fact, all the men and boys were dressed in Sidewinders shirts, and all the women and girls were dressed in lingerie.  Some of it cotton and plain, some of it fancy, and some of it quite gaudy.  The throng of people shook Martha’s hand and kissed her cheek and surged with their appreciation for Jeanine as she emerged, then again, even more so, for Liz.  Finally she began to make out the comments which universally had to do with the event tomorrow in the back yard.  It was completely surreal, and Martha barely noticed her sister and niece slipping out of the Limousine as inconspicuously as possible.

Up near the front porch, Officer Ron, still in uniform, sipped beer with Don and Chester while speaking with other neighbors.  Don eventually broke away and arrived to rescue his wife.

“Hiya, Legs!” he said, and then picked her up bodily in his arms and carried her off to the hoots and cheers of onlookers.

“My hero!” said Martha, snuggling against his wide chest as he strode into the house. “What’s going on?”

“Look out back,” said Don as he set her down.

Martha gave him a quizzical glance, and he nodded toward the kitchen.  Through the window over the sink she could see the neighborhood had come out in force setting up tables and hanging banners.  As she’d seen out front, men wore Sidewinders jerseys and women wore underwear and sneakers.  Bethany McKay, who was six months pregnant with a first brood, was even out there.  The girl had gone from an A Cup to a C cup in just a few weeks, she’d recently told Martha with excitement.

“Did everyone take the day off?” asked Martha of her husband as he joined her.

“The shop closed at noon,” said Don. “There’s the big game with Obama, and there’s tomorrow.  I guess nobody was in the mood to work anymore this week.  I know I’m not.”

Martha turned in his embrace, his big hands comforting her bare midriff.

“What are you in the mood for?” she asked, putting her arms over his shoulders.

“A little of this,” smiled Don. “A little of that… the girls are all going to the game, then they’re spending the night next door.  Ron and Jeanine will stay with us tonight.”

“You thought of everything,” said Martha. “What about Beverly and Deborah?”

“If they want to join in…”

Martha let out a laugh… “Not sure that’s a good idea…”

“Oh?”

“I’ll tell you all about it later…”

“Really… who did Deborah rape?”

Martha shook her head in shock. “You know about that already?”

“Chester’s been telling me Deborah’s a little domineering… is it true?”

“Except for the part about being only a little domineering… She’s acting like she owns Mother and Bev.”

“So tell me about it.”

Martha relayed the tale of the limousine ride, leaving nothing out.  She most enthusiastically, to her own surprise, spoke of making love to Jeanine while her mother watched.

“I was too uptight to orgasm,” Martha lamented. “Jeanine noticed.”

“That’s too bad,” said Don. “But Tina found something that should help you relax.”

“What’s that?”

Don kissed her deeply. “It’s a surprise.”

Martha smirked, then noticed the clock on the wall said three thirty.

“By this time tomorrow, I’ll be cooking.”

“Then we’d better make every moment count.”

Martha brushed his lips with hers and reveled in his very masculine embrace as he kissed her again.

Suddenly, Cory, Mel and Sandy appeared, all dressed in their new lingerie and old sneakers.

“Are you going to the game like that?” asked Martha.

“Yes,” said Melanie. “Daddy, it’s okay, right?”

Don nodded. “Have a good time, girls.”

The three girls rushed into the kitchen, kissed both parents on the cheek and rushed out.

Don led Martha back into the living room where Deborah was resisting Dana’s pleas to come to the game.

It should have been a perfectly normal thing, Martha thought.  Dana adored Deborah.  They’d been virtually inseparable last August in New Jersey.  They were almost exactly the same age as well, but now Martha saw Deborah differently.  She looked like a predator, and Dana, like prey.  Like Deborah would consume innocent Dana at first opportunity and spit her out after a few moments diversion…

“Please, Deborah!” begged Dana. “It’ll be fun!”

“Deborah,” said Chester. “You should go,” he said, even as Martha wanted to side with Deborah.

“Oh, alright!” said Deborah. “But can I take Gramma too?”

“Sure,” said Chester, to Liz’s dismayed look.

“Honey,” Martha whispered to Don.

“What?”

“Dana with Deborah?”

“What?  Oh, I’m sure it’s fine… don’t worry.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry.  It’s okay.”

Martha saw her mother speaking with Chester while Dana led Deborah upstairs for a quick shower.  She sat down on the sofa, suddenly exhausted, and Tina appeared with a tall glass of pink lemonade and put it in Martha’s hand.

“Thank you, honey.”

“You’re welcome, Mom,” said Tina, smiling sweetly.  Like the others, Tina wore her new lingerie.  Hers was white and royal blue… just like the outfit Martha wore…

As Martha regarded Tina, Lana appeared behind her.  The blonde girl’s breasts were suspended in black lace, her skin had that olive quality her mother had, but her freckled chest betrayed her father’s Celtic heritage.  Nearly naked, one would never guess Jeanine was Lana’s mother.  Only Lana’s eyes were unmistakably Jeanine’s.

Ron and Jeanine finally came in through the back of the house followed by Beverly.

“Wow,” said Beverly as she strode from the kitchen to the living room.  She accepted a tall glass from Lana and took a seat. “There’s a big party tomorrow in your back yard,” Beverly said to Martha.

“We don’t do things by half,” smiled Ron cheerfully.

“Dear,” said Liz to Martha. “May I borrow the lingerie I bought for you yesterday?”

“Of course,” said Martha.  She stood and set down her drink.  Elizabeth followed Martha upstairs through the kitchen.  By the closed door to the girls’ bathroom Martha could hear the shower going and the high pitched chatter between Dana and Deborah.

“Mother,” said Martha.

“Yes, dear?”

“You won’t let anything happen to Dana, will you?”

Liz looked shocked. “What ever do you mean?”

Martha opened her closet and pulled out that shimmering white lace bra and panty set, handing it to Liz.

“I mean, please don’t let Deborah rape Dana.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Liz.  She looked shocked and insulted.

But Martha was not reassured.  She nodded anyway, and left her mother to change.  Back downstairs, Beverly was catching up the men on happenings back in New Jersey, lamenting that her husband had already found another woman and had scheduled her for conversion next weekend.

“Deborah and I are going together,” said Beverly.

“Really?’ asked Tina. “How come you can’t go with Mom and Gramma?”

“He had it planned for over a week,” said Beverly. “Or so he says.  Probably longer.”

“Another mother-daughter roasting,” said Jeanine, then catching herself with a glance toward Lana who was listening in to the whole conversation. “Hey,” Jeanine said to Lana. “How come you’re still here?”

“I’m not going to the game,” said Lana.

“Why not?”

Lana looked to Tina. “Uhm… Tina and I…”

“We have a project we have to do,” said Tina.

“On Kobe,” added Ron.  “It’s okay, hun.”

“Your sisters already left?”

“Yes,” said Lana.

“Tina!” Dana called from upstairs. “Can you come up for a minute?”

“Coming…” Tina hurried into the kitchen with Lana escaping with her.  They could be heard noisily making their way up the stairs.

“It’s past four,” said Jeanine.

“Oh! We need to call Linda and Mary and Miley!” Martha acknowledged and made her way into the kitchen.

“I don’t have the number,” said Martha after she’d picked up the phone receiver. “Dad!” she went back into the living room.”

“…Her biggest fantasy is to be spitted with one of the girls,” Ron was saying to Beverly.

“Has she asked?” asked Chester.

“No,” Said Ron.

“Dad,” said Martha, interrupting the conversation. “I need the number to the girls’ new phone.”

“Oh!” Chester stood and pulled out his wallet.  Off a card he read off the number to Martha.  But Martha held her hand out for the card, which he surrendered.  She favored him with a smile and made her way back to the kitchen phone.  As Martha dialed the number with Jeanine anxiously standing by, Martha noticed the three remaining cull licenses fanned out on the kitchen table, and wondered… the phone rang, it went to voicemail.  Martha left a message.

“No answer?” Jeanine asked with disappointment.

Martha shook her head, and Jeanine gave Martha a comforting hug.  It lingered.  Martha kissed Jeanine’s cheek, and Jeanine turned into Martha’s lips and accepted her affection with them parted… it became passionate, and Martha succumbed to the erotic embrace.

“I wish they could see us,” said Jeanine into Martha’s ear.

“That’s beautiful,” said a small voice.  The two turned to see Tina standing there completely nude looking virginally innocent, ready to be sacrificed.  It dawned upon Martha that there were three blank culling licenses in front of her on the kitchen table.  Of all the things Martha knew, she knew Tina was the wildcard, the one with the best chance at a life, and it occurred to Martha that she could not stand to see Tina on a spit.

“Christina Lane Cokely!” Martha exclaimed.  “Why are you naked?”

“It’s okay, Martha,” said Lana Phillips as she appeared behind Tina. “Gramma asked her to stay naked.”

“Did she!” Said Martha, perturbed.  Tina nodded so emphatically her jutting milky breasts bobbed. “What happened to your new underwear?”

“Deborah’s borrowing them,” said Tina apologetically. “She’s going to the game with Dana and Dana said Deborah had nothing with her.”

“I see,” said Martha, arms crossed.

Jeanine said something that ended with: “She looks good enough to eat…”

“I know,” said Martha. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Mother arrived downstairs wearing her pearls, pumps and underthings. “Oh, don’t be silly, dear,” said Mother. “Tina likes the attention.  She always did.”

“True,” said Martha, not quit ready to condone her daughter’s nakedness.

“Well,” said Mother. “I suppose I’m off to see a football match then, and I’ve never so much as sat down to see one at all.”

“Dana knows football,” said Tina, her breasts jiggling enough to keep Martha’s attention. “She’ll explain it.  It’s fun once you know what’ you’re looking at.”

“I suppose,” said Mother.

Dana and Deborah appeared then and Deborah was indeed wearing Tina’s new things.  Mother mumbled something about needing to talk with Dad and slipped out of the kitchen.

“So,” Martha tore her eyes from Tina with great effort, and looked to Dana and her niece. “You’re off then?  Have fun.  And don’t get into trouble!”

“Thanks Mom!” said Dana as she kissed Martha’s cheek.

“Bye Aunt Martha!” said Deborah acting cheerful as Dana led her out.

Martha turned back to Tina and was about to order her back upstairs to put something on, but Jeanine had other ideas.

“Uhm,” said Jeanine. “Why don’t you girls keep Aunt Beverly company.  We’ll be right out.”

Martha could not tear her eyes off Tina as the nubile girl glided out in front of Lana.  She felt horrified at the sight and frightened.

“My God,” Martha breathed.

“What’s wrong?” asked Jeanine.

“I think Tina wants to get spitted with us!”

“That would be so sweet of her!” said Jeanine in a sweet and serious tone.  Martha looked askance at Jeanine, unable to form words of protest.  Jeanine, who hoped one of her own daughters would volunteer simply wouldn’t understand… or, perhaps, it was Martha who did not.  It occurred to Martha that Jeanine had already seen four of her own culled.  Three had gone directly to the butcher shop at the local supermarkent.

Suddenly, the phone rang, breaking the moment.  Martha snapped it up.

“Hello?”

“Hi!  Mrs. Cokely?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Miley Philips.  Jeanine’s daughter?  I just saw you called and haven’t seen any of your girls since I spoke with Mom.  I just wanted to tell you I’m looking for them now and wanted to make sure you would be available to talk.”

“Will you see them soon?” asked Martha.

“Well, I’m on my way to the quad.  It’s the last place I can think to look.  Apparently some girl got herself tagged and the whole school seems to be there.”

“Not one of mine!”

“Not likely,” said Miley. “Not with their grades.  None of them get too many tagged days.”

“Oh, good!”

“Yeah, I’m at the quad now.  I can’t see who the girl is, but she’s up there masterbating.  She’s putting on quite a show!  Is my mom near?”

Martha held the phone out to Jeanine.

“It’s Miley.”

“Oh,” said Tina as she was passing back through carrying one of Martha’s old comforters. “Say ‘hi’ for me!”

Beverly appeared, whispering something to Tina and headed upstairs.  As Martha watched, Tina unloaded her burden in the living room and chased after Martha’s sister.

“Oh, God,” Martha’s heart was beating in her throat. “What now?”

“Oh my God!” said Jeanine, as if to punctuate the moment.

“What?” Martha jumped.

“It’s Naomi!  She’s been tagged!”
luiscypher
 
Posts: 299
Joined: October 20th, 2010, 8:30 pm

Re: As With Most Days (Story)

Postby luiscypher » July 13th, 2011, 8:38 pm

Part 9

As with most days the notion of sharing cloths, even underwear was no big deal to Dana.  It did, however, seem to bother Deborah, but she seemed to have accepted the idea.  She thought nothing at all of asking Tina to loan Deborah her new things.  But Dana was beginning to think Deborah had become something of a snob in the last few months.  She made a face when Dana suggested it.

“But I just got them!” complained Tina.

“You already said you don’t want to go to the game and Deborah hasn’t got anything nice to go in,” said Dana. “C’Mon, Please?  I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

Tina, Dana knew, was not at all fond of Deborah, or had not been last summer.  That probably had something to do with Tina’s resistance.  Dana suspected the feeling was mutual.

“Please, Tina?” Dana repeated.

“C’mon, Tina,” said Lana. “You don’t need them tonight anyway.”

Tina reluctantly reached behind her back and u8nclasped her bra, then slipped out of her panties, handing them to Dana.

Deborah emerged from the bathroom wrapped modestly in a towel.

“Tina,” said Deborah with a bit of a twang. “You look yummy!”

“Right,” Tina made a face.

“She’s right, dear,” said Gramma, who herself had emerged from the master bedroom in Mom’s shimmering white lace and her own pearls draped over her cleavage. “You look as beautiful as your mother when she’s naked.”

Tina, who adored Gramma, blushed in a very out of character way.  Her arms demurely trying to clothe herself.

“I have to find something to put on…”

“Don’t,” said Gramma in her even manner. “Let everyone see you.  You’re too beautiful and tonight is our last night…”

“Deborah’s right,” said Lana. “You do look yummy.”

Tina turned then, and slowly, seeming reluctant, made her way down the stairs followed by Lana.

Momentarily, Deborah re-emerged in Tina’s blue and white underthings.

“So,” said Deborah. “Gramma are we ready?”

“Should we bring something to put on later?” Gramma asked of Dana. “Won’t it get cold?”

“No, Gramma,” said Dana. “It’ll be warm till at least ten.”

“I’ll meet you downstairs, then,” said Gramma.

Dana found Deborah a pair of flats to wear, and the two went downstairs.  Tina was still standing frozen in the kitchen wearing nothing but skin in front of Jeanine and Mom.

“Are you off?” Mom asked.

“Yes, Mom,” said Dana.

“Don’t get into trouble!” said Mom. “And have fun!”

“Thanks Mom!” said Dana. “Bye guys!”

In the living room, Gramma gave Grampa a kiss and he cupped her breast as Deborah took Aunt Beverly aside.  It was far more affection Dana had ever seen Gramma and Grampa exchange before.

“Have fun, sweetheart,” he said while Deborah pecked her mother on the cheek.

Finally, out the door, Dana admitted to herself she’d been anxious all day to be on her way to the game.  Outside, the procession toward Poppyfield Highschool had become a sea of nearly naked women and girls with a sprinkle of men wearing Sidewinder Jerseys and T-Shirts.  The sun was low in the sky with a few high clouds offering their shade, but the radiation from the asphalt was stifling.  Dana was thankful she was nearly naked herself.

“This would never fly at home,” said Deborah. “It’s a pity, actually.”

“I still feel naked,” said Gramma.

“But you love being naked,” said Deborah.

“I do,” Gramma admitted, her pearl necklace bobbing on her breasts.

“Really, Gramma?” Dana asked, a little surprised to hear Gramma say that.

Gramma blushed, Dana saw, and Dana thought her cute in a girlish way.

“I’d do it more often if I wasn’t so old and wrinkled,” said Gramma.

“I think you’re beautiful,” said Dana, and she meant it.

“Well,” said Gramma. “Modesty won’t do me tomorrow, will it?”


“You’ll look great!” said Dana, reassuringly.

“I’m surprised so many are coming,” said Deborah. “It seems like the whole town is showing up.

Dana laughed. “We have our own public announcement system.”

“You do?”

Dana nodded. “Her name is Helen Blakely.  And her daughters, of course.  Anything they know, everyone knows.”

Does everyone know about you and this football jock?” asked Deborah.

“Probably,” said Dana.

“Is he hot?”

“Oh, yes!” grinned Dana.

“You going to fuck him tonight?”

Dana’s head snapped toward Deborah.

“No,” she said. “I don’t think so.”

“Didn’t you say there’s a cheerleader who wants him?”

“Yes, Barbie.  She’s head cheerleader.”

“So what if this Barbie fucks him first?”

Dana shook her head. “He won’t let that happen.”

“Oh?” Deborah said. “How can you be sure?  I don’t know how girls are here, but back home, they’re pretty ruthless.  Especially about boys, not to mention, super popular jocks.”

The sea of bodies flowed by the Poppyfield High Campus to the football field.  It was flanked on each side by bleachers, one reserved for visiting fans.  Those stands were just beginning to fill up with the predominantly dark skinned fans of the Obama Ospreys out of Phoenix. They were getting an eyeful of barely clad local girls.  To be fair, Dana noticed, only about a quarter of the girls and women were in lingerie, and those seemed to come from her own neighborhood.  But even the Osprey Cheerleaders, who consistently outperformed all others in the Regionals and were no strangers to wearing sexy clothing, stood agape with incredulity.

“You’d think they’d never seen a woman wearing one of those see through dresses so common around here,” said Deborah.

“Poppyfield is known to be conservative,” said Deborah. “I think the whole region north of Phoenix is…”

Then Dana saw Barbie.  The two locked eyes in mutual disdain, Barbie in her miniskirt and halter top dueling Dana in her unmentionables.  Barbie sneered and leaned over to her brunette cohort, talking and pointing.

“Don’t tell me,” said Deborah. “That’s Barbie.”

Dana nodded.

“She’d be pretty if she wasn’t snarling like a rabid rat,” said Deborah.

Dana couldn’t help it; she laughed so hard her sides hurt. “Oh, that’s mean!”

“True,” said Deborah.

Finally, Dana spotted Bart.  He stood wearing his full gear, save his helmet, drinking Gatorade on the sidelines.

“That’s Bart Haskell,” said Dana.

“My!” said Gramma. “He is very appealing.”

“Introduce us!” said Deborah.

“I…” said Dana nervously.

“Oh, come on!  You can’t be embarrassed by us…” Deborah grabbed Dana’s wrist and Gramma’s hand and towed the two of them toward the good looking specimen of a man preening on the sidelines.

“Bart Haskell?” said Dana.

“Yes,” he looked over. “Hi Dana!”

“I’m Dana’s cousin, Deborah!”

“Well,” he smiled. “Hello cousin Deborah!” Then he turned to Gramma. “Wow, Mrs. Cokely! You look… fantastic!”

“That’s my Grandmother, Bart!” protested Dana.

“No way!  Your Grandma is hot!”

Gramma was dumbstruck, smiling and blushing head to toe.

“If you come to the barb-b-cue tomorrow you get to see her naked,” said Deborah, hugging Gramma from one side and kissing her cheek.

“Oh,” said Bart. “I’ll be there!”

“So tell me, Bart,” said Deborah. “Do you have a lot of kissing experience?”

“Uh… is this a trick question?” Bart looked to Dana, who smiled sheepishly, hoping desperately Deborah was not about to humiliate her.

“Okay,” said Deborah. “So you have limited experience… how would you rate Dana as a kisser?”

Bart looked incredulously at Deborah, to Dana, and back to Deborah…

“Hot?” asked Deborah. “Very hot? Jalapeño hot?”

“Oh,” Bart smiled. “At least Very Hot!”

“Good answer!  Okay, I like him, Dana.  You have my approval.  If you win, Bart, you can have Dana’s cherry.  If not, you’ll have to settle for that snarling hag over there…” she pointed toward Barbie, who was, indeed snarling.

Dana, however, wanted to hide… she flashed back on the image of Tina standing naked in the kitchen, and looking so scared.  Dana felt exactly that naked at this very moment.  She felt a whole lot of guilt for not comforting Tina when she had the chance, and knowing this, she knew she deserved no refuge now…

“Uh…” Bart said looking at Dana, who felt herself get smaller under his gaze.

“Have a great game, Bart Haskell!” said Deborah.  Again, Deborah towed Dana, this time up, into the stands.  Dana held Bart’s gaze with her own, humiliated but unable to break her gaze away from him as she stumbled up to the top row where Deborah picked out seats.  Dana sat with Gramma and Deborah sitting protectively on either side.

“You’ll have to explain the game to me, Dana,” said Gramma.

“Okay,” said Dana, absently.  Numbly, she did exactly that as Ospreys won the coin toss and through the kickoff return.

“Okay,” said Dana. “The clock starts when the center snaps the ball to the quarter back.  The quarterback can run the ball, or he can hand it off to his running back, who will run the ball, or he can through the ball to a wide receiver if he does not step forward past the line of scrimmage…”

The Osprey drive started from their own fifteen yard line.  They picked up a first down with a twenty five yard pass to the forty, but the next three plays were stopped at 3rd and 2 on the 48.

The first sidewinder drive was a thing of beauty.  The Osprey defensive line, which consisted of the largest players on the field today, ran around like rank amateurs. As Bart passed for twenty, ten, twelve and sixteen in the first four plays.  Having started with a touchback, they made it to the Osprey 22 before their drive stalled and they were forced to attempt a field goal.  Fortunately, Sidewinders kicker was pretty good, and they scored first.

Obama’s second drive ate up the quarter.  It was a series of third down conversions that ended in a touchdown.  Obama’s fans went wild and the Obama cheerleading squad celebrated with their signature vaulting pyramid.

By the beginning of the second quarter Dana was over her humiliation and Gramma was up to speed on football.

“Hi, Dana!” said Miss Snodgrass, Dana’s skinny math teacher.  Her waifish form was clad in a postage stamp thong and bra that was merely a bit of lace sewn to straps.  The latter suspended Miss Snodgrass’ ping pong ball sized breasts like they were indeed a burden.

“Oh,” said Dana. “Hi, Miss Snodgrass.  This is my cousin Deborah and my Grandmother, Elizabeth Finney.”

“Hello, Mrs. Finney,” said the skinny teacher. “My, you certainly don’t look old enough to be a grandmother.”

“Thank you dear,” said Gramma. “That’s very kind.  Will you be at the picnic tomorrow?  I asked the girls to make sure their teachers were invited, but you never know if children will follow through.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” said Miss Snodgrass. “Is it true you and Mrs. Cokely are being done together?”

“It is, Dear,” said Gramma.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” said Miss Snodgrass, who looked a little flushed at the thought of that. “Well,” she said as there seemed to be nothing more to say… “Thank you for the invitation.  It was very nice to meet you!”

“What a nice woman,” said Gramma after Miss Snodgrass had gone.  Dana smiled.  She was nice enough, Dana agreed.

The second quarter exploded suddenly with a seventy five yard run by the Sidewinders.  The stands around them roared in celebration, and again when the kickoff put the Ospreys back on their own five yard line.

When they came back down, Gramma had her arm over Dana’s back, fingers on Dana’s neck…  Dana accepted this without thinking, remembering how Gramma liked to touch her there.

“Wow,” said Dana. “I don’t think Obama can score again this half,” she told Gramma. “That’s lousy field position.”

“The Sidewinders seem to be doing very well,” said Gramma.

“The Obama coach stole a fake playbook,” said Dana.

“Really?” asked Deborah.

“Yeah,” Dana said. “Bart was telling me about it.  Apparently, they reversed all their plays in the fake book to throw the Ospreys off.”

Dana’s instincts proved correct.  At halftime, the score stood at 10-7 Sidewinders.

“I’ll be back,” said Dana.

“Where are you going, Dear?” asked Gramma.

“Uh… to get us some drinks,” Dana lied. “Lemon Aid or Iced Tea?”

“Do they have Iced Coffee?” asked Deborah.

“I’ll see.”

But once free of her cousin and Gramma, Dana made a b-line to the locker room.

“Hey!” she called to Bart as he was about to pass.

“Hey,” he said.

“You’re doing great!”

“What’s up with your cousin?”

Dana looked away. This was not good. “I… I don’t know.  I’m really sorry, Bart…”

“Well,” he looked away as well. “Anyway… are you really a virgin?”

“Does it matter?”

Bart pursed his lips. “Naw… I gotta go… I’ll see ya ‘round…”

“Okay!” said Dana. “I’ll see you later!”

The discourse sat very wrong with Dana.  Why was it so cold?  Was it because she was a virgin?  Dana was so engrossed in her own distress she almost forgot to buy the drinks.  As it turned out, there was iced coffee.  She spent what little money she had on the three drinks, two iced teas and Deborah’s iced coffee, and made her way back.  She found Gramma by herself.

“Where’s Deborah?” asked Dana.

“She had to powder her nose,” said Gramma, accepting her iced tea.

Deborah returned just as Ospreys kicked off to the Sidewinders.

“Oh, Good!” said Deborah as Dana handed her her drink. “Coffee!”

“What are those three standing back behind the line?” asked Gramma.

“Wide receivers,” said Dana.  “They run forward and catch the ball, or fake it, depending on how the play is run…”

Bart did fake, with a hand off to his running back.  The running back jinked back and forth then passed the ball back to Bart, who threw it to his now very clear wide receiver.  Ospreys finally stopped the man on their own five yard line.  Two plays later, the score was 17-7.

Again, Sidewinders fans went wild.  And back in their seats, Gramma’s hand was now on Dana’s ribs.

Obama began their next drive on their 25 yard line and brought the ball down the field for the next five minutes of game time.  Dana, however, was watching the opposing team’s sidelines.  The Obama coach was in a huddle with the defensive line during the whole drive.  At the end of that drive, they put a running back into the zone to make it 17-14.

“I wonder what’s going on over there…” Dana said, and Deborah shrugged and shook her head.

“This is a good game,” said Gramma, applauding the other team’s efforts.  She seemed to be genuinely enjoying it, which made Dana very happy.  Dana looked across the field as Gramma’s hand, once again, lay on her ribs just under her bra band.

Sidewinders started their next drive on their twenty three yard line.  They set up and I formation with a single wide receiver on Bart’s left wing.  He handed off to the running back, who flicked it back only a few yards away.  But midway between the running back and Bart, an Osprey slid through the Sidewinder formation as a hot knife through butter, and caught the ball at his midsection.  It so stunned the Sidewinders they could not stop the big defenseman before he ran for the Ospreys’ third TD.

The remainder of the third quarter was painful to watch.  The Ospreys took apart every Sidewinder play easily for three and out.  But the Sidewinder Defense managed to keep the Ospreys to a field goal by the end of the third quarter for 24-17.

“Go Sidewinders!” Gramma was clapping.

“Boy,” said Deborah. “Obama really has their number now, don’t they?”

“It sure looks that way,” said Dana as Gramma’s fingers were making their way over the underside of Dana’s breast.  Dana shivered as those same fingers deftly teased Dana’s nipple making it hard and tingly…

Dana drew a little gasp as Gramma pinched her nipple and sent a jolt through her young body.  She stole a glance at Deborah who she found to be watching Gramma’s hand with sideways glances. 

What could she do? Dana thought.  The fear of what would happen if she shook off Gramma’s attentions trumped the embarrassment of Deborah’s knowledge.  Finally, Gramma’s hand cupped Dana’s breast fully, her thumb petting it.

On the field, Sidewinders were third down and two on the Osprey thirty.  With two wide receivers in an I formation, Bart called the snap and backed up looking for a clear receiver.  Almost instantly, four huge Ospreys rushed through the Sidewinder’s offensive line as Bart tried to get away.  It was too late.  The first sack of the day put Sidewinders back on the thirty five yard line and left Bart lying on the Ground.

Both stands of spectators were on their feet as Dana struggled to see above taller people in front of her.  The coaches and medics from both teams rushed out when Bart did not get up.

Dana’s heart was in her throat beating wildly.  She felt the intense desire to rush out to him and saw Barbie being held back from doing exactly that.  For several tense moments, they all watched till Bart stood on his own.  Stands, Osprey and Sidewinders fans alike applauded.

“Had the wind knocked out of him,” yelled the coach to the stands.  It brought a nervous chuckle from the crowd.

Out of the huddle, the field kicker took position.  Bart would hold.  But as the ball was snapped back, Bart stood as he caught it and through it to a running back who jinked to avoid a tackle, then ran the ball in to tie up the game.

Again, sidewinders fans went wild!  It was certainly a brilliantly executed fake in revenge for the sack.

“Go Sidewinders!” Gramma called out again as she hugged Dana during the post TD celebration.

But the game was not over, and Bart limped off the field not as fit as he’d protested after the sack.  His game was over.

Dana stood as he was making his way toward the locker rooms.

“Where are you going?” asked Deborah.

“I need to see him!” Dana said, determined. “I’ll be back!”

“Dana,” Gramma said. “Don’t forget about us!”

Dana stopped.  She turned and went to kiss Gramma’s lips.  They were, she thought, very soft.  She’d no idea at the time why she rewarded Gramma for fondling her breast in such a way, but when she broke away, she saw Gramma looking like a child who’d just been praised unexpectedly.

“I won’t,” said Dana, shocked at herself.

“Dana,” said Deborah.  The look of concern on Deborah’s face gave Dana pause. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” said Deborah, her face breaking into a mischievous grin.

Dana grinned back and made her way down the stands.

At the bottom, she looked over at the cheerleading squad.  She could not see Barbie at ground level, but the brunette Barbie always ran with was… Paula? Dana couldn’t remember her name.  But the Brunette was watching Dana with furled brows.

Dana looked away, feeling spied upon as she continued moving toward the locker rooms nearly a hundred yards away from the field.  It sat on the edge of the Gymnasium behind several bushes quite secluded from the crowds at the football field.  Dana found nobody outside it, so she opened the door and called in.

“Bart?”

No answer.  Dana pushed the door open and looked in finding the boy’s locker room completely deserted, save for gear, and sox or whatever else laying around.

Dana was confused, of course, and went into the Girls’ Locker Room hoping to fix her face a bit before Bart eventually showed up.  She was thinking maybe he’d returned to the field, but had no idea how she’d missed him.

Inside the Girls’ Locker Room Dana heard grunting and a series of high pitched moans.  Her heart sank.

“No!” Dana begged. “Please no!” But when she followed the sounds to their source in the massive girls’ showers, her fears were confirmed.

Bart lay on the tiled floor of the shower flat on his back and completely naked.  Barbie, in all her glory, straddled his hips impaled on his erection, which Dana could see from her vantage sliding in and out of the cheerleader as she used her thighs to bob up and down over Bart.

Dana let out a sob.  Bart lifted his head just enough so that his wide eyes met hers… but hers were already filled with tears.

Dana broke and ran from the humiliation.  She ran for what seemed forever, though it was only moments, and found a place to hide among some shrubs at the edge of the school grounds, sobbing and weeping.  All she could think of was that kiss!  Not the first kiss, the last one.  The one Dana had asked for and received.  It had meant so much to her and it meant nothing to him!

She sobbed and wept for what seemed a while.  When she finally was cried out, she wiped washed her face at a drinking fountain and went to find Deborah and Gramma.

The game was over.  People were filing out solemnly.  It appeared as if the Sidewinders had lost, with all the gloom.  When she finally found Deborah and Gramma they were wandering aimlessly near the locker rooms.

“There you are!” Gramma said. “I was so afraid we’d lost you.”

“No, Gramma. You didn’t lose me at all,” said Dana.

“Dana,” said Deborah. “Have you been crying?”

“What happened?” Gramma asked. “What’s wrong, dear?”

Dana blubbered suddenly unable to speak a coherent word, and fell into Gramma’s arms.

“IwentthereandIsawhimandherandtheyweredoingitandIwassohumiliated….”

Gramma rocked her back and forth… “There, there, dear,” Gramma said. “We’ll make everything better… you’ll see…”
luiscypher
 
Posts: 299
Joined: October 20th, 2010, 8:30 pm

Re: As With Most Days (Story)

Postby luiscypher » July 13th, 2011, 8:39 pm

Part 10

As with most days Tina had plans and the anticipation gnawed at her the entire day.  It was always something she kept private, like when she planned for a full day to flash Principle Daniels at Monday’s Make-Up Game.  Co-Conspirators, she’d found, were not practical, for the most part.

But she’d found she enjoyed having Lana in on her plans.  Lana was always the smart one among the Philips sisters.  She was not adventurous like Lorrie nor anal like Lindsey.  Lorrie and Tina were natural friends, and had always been.  It seemed odd that Lana had latched onto Tina, but then, she was the smart one.  She’d figured out exactly what Tina was up to.  And as the two searched the computer networks for the literature they wanted on Kobe, Lana grew more and more excited and anxious.

“That link!” Lana said. “No, no! The second one!”

Tina clicked on the indicated link.  Up came a PDF file titled:

“Daily Massage Care for Superior Meat”

“Oh my god!” Tina said slow and even, but no less excited than Lana.  She scrolled down.  The detailed drawings showed the twice daily massage regimen Kobe Girls were given twice daily.  It claimed, perhaps accurately, that the massage techniques were one of the primary reasons for the superior quality of Kobe 200 Euro a Pound Meat.

“This is it!” Tina said, grinning.

“Make two copies!” Lana begged.

“Already queued,” said Tina.  The two stood excitedly by the huge Computer Lab printer as it spat out the seventy five sheets of the first copy.  Tina let Lana have it, and waited for her own, as Lana had to run further to class than she did.  When her copy was ready, Tina had to run, literally, to beat the bell.

After that spurt of energy, the day dragged.  When Tina’s math class finally started, at Ten AM, she felt like it was Three PM.  Miss Snodgrass made this particular class, the last she had each week, a particular tedium.  The woman was nice enough, but her halting way of speaking was tedious on her best days.

Finally, at ten to noon, Miss Snodgrass stopped the class.

“How many of you are going to the game today?  Raise your hands…” asked Miss Snodgrass.  All but Tina raised their hands causing Lorrie Phillips to give Tina a funny look.

“”Okay,” said the teacher. “Tina, you’re not going? Where’s your school spirit?”

Tina looked up. “Uh, Ma’am, my Mom’s getting culled tomorrow, and I have something planned to do for her tonight… so I kinda can’t be there.”

“Oh,” said Miss Snodgrass. “I see.  Well that’s as good an excuse as I’ve heard.”

“My sisters will be, though!”

“Good!” said Miss Snodgrass. “Obama’s a tough opponent, and I hope we can cheer them to victory.  It’ll mean a lot for the school if they win!  But, since you mentioned it, I’d like to take the opportunity to thank you and your family for inviting the faculty to the big barb-b-cue tomorrow, Tina!  Oh, and I’d like it known that since tomorrow, all the teachers will be attending in their underwear, we’ll be doing the same for our Sidewinders at the game, in honour of the affair tomorrow.  I know how you girls like to tease, so here’s your opportunity with the faculty’s blessing.  Let’s rattle the opposition and their concentration!”

After class, Lorrie accosted Tina.

“What happened this morning?”

“Nothing?” replied Tina.

“Well, why did you run off with Lana so early?”  And what’s this thing you’re doing for your mom?” Lorrie’s attitude bordered on naked anger. “I needed you this morning!”

“Look,” said Tina, hoping to appease her friend’s annoyance. “Lana tagged along, ask her why, I don’t know. I had a project to do.  That’s all there is to it.”

“Oh yeah?” said Lorrie. “What was the subject of this project?”

Tina stammered.

“That’s what I thought!” Lorrie snapped. “Let me know when you want to come clean!”

Lorrie wheeled on a heel and stomped off leaving Tina frozen in her guilt.  Had it been the first time Lorrie had pulled this kind of tantrum, Tina might have broken into tears, but it was not.  It still felt awful.  The truth was, Lindsey, Lorrie’s other sister, was even worse.  In fact, when Tina started school back when she was four years old, Lindsey and Tina had started off as the closest of friends.  That lasted till they hit puberty about eighteen months ago.  Lindsey lost it one too many times, and Lorrie became Tina’s refuge.

A year and a half later, things might be shifting again, thought Tina, this time toward Lana.  Tina had always, since she’d met Lana Philips, regarded her as too quiet, aloof and too good for the room.  Lana was, of course, the smart one.  Lana was the straight A Phillips sister.  Then the sister with the big boobs as well as brains.  Tina had never give Lana much thought till today except as a boy magnet, and Tina had never benefitted from the male attention Lana received, mainly because Lana seemed to be indifferent to it herself.  But this morning had proven to Tina that Lana had something Tina liked.  Tina was not sure what it was.  But that something gave Tina comfort in the face of Lorrie’s tirade.  It gave Tina enough presence of mind to put her in gear to get home, and study the seventy five pages she’d printed out this morning.

“Hello, Tina,” Mr. Daniels voice startled Tina out of her thoughts.

“Oh!  Hello, Mr. Daniels,” said Tina, thinking the smile on his thin, Mustachioed face looked goofy and odd.  Odd, because it was so rare.  But he held her gaze continuing his goofy smile.

Tina stopped, grinned to herself, then turned, trotted up to Mr. Daniels and kissed his cheek.  Then in a fast, graceful moved Tina had developed over the years and was quite proud of, she slipped off her panties and thrust them into Mr. Daniels pocket protected shirt pocket.

“A present from me,” she whispered  smiling into his ear, and kissing his lobe.

Tina lifted her skirt and turned, her body still in contact with his, till her bare rear was in contact with his hips, smiling at him over her shoulder.

“I have a good mind to take you over my knee and give you the spanking of your life, young lady!” Snorted Mr. Daniels with amazing presence of mind through his flushed face.

“Ooo! Mr. Daniels!  Do you promise?” Tina said. “I can’t wait.”

By this time, Tina had attracted the attention of many passersby, including Dana.  Dana, looking quite stunned, followed Tina as she trotted down the hall grinning all the way.

“You really are going to give that poor man a heart attack!” said Dana, only half joking.

Tina continued to grin.

“You on your way to see Bart?”

“Are you kidding?” asked Dana. “Coach Allen won’t let girls anywhere near his players today!  They’re facing Obama, remember?”

“How could I forget, silly me,” mocked Tina.  “At least Bart’s coming tomorrow.  You might not be a virgin by sundown!”

“Oh, stop it!” protested Dana. “Lana was looking for you, by the way.”

Tina stopped walking. Do I want to go there? She thought.

“Where was she?” Tina asked.

“I saw her in Home Ec.  She said she’d wait by the multi-purpose room.”

The two made their way outside into the stifling dry heat of this mid-November Indian Summer.

The multi-purpose room was on the way off campus, so, no escape unless Tina rudely ditched Dana, which she could, but not today.  Dana would be anxious to get home and ready for the bitch from Jersey.  Lana would be a good buffer, at least.  How Dana couldn’t see what a kniving, prissy, stuck up, backstabbing, controlling, holier than though bitch Deborah was beyond Tina.  And everyone thought Melanie saw the world through rose coloured glasses.  She had nothing on Dana’s blindness toward Cousin Deborah.

Before the Dana and Tina made it across the quad, Melanie and Cory caught up with them.

“Hey!” said Mel. “We’ve been invited to a slumber party!”

“What?” asked Dana. “Tonight?

“Yeah,” said Mel. “Lindsey says our parents will want some alone time at our place.  So we’re all spending the night next door.”

“Wait,” said Tina. “Five move one way and two back?  Why don’t Lindsey, Lorrie and Lana just come to our house?”

“Yeah,” agreed Dana. “Besides, Deborah’s going to be here.  What about here?”

“So?” said Cory. “She can come too.”

“She won’t like that,” said Tina, grinning.  Dana looked at her sideways, but obviously knew Tina to be right.

“Who’s coming?” asked Lana who just appeared out of thin air.

“Our Aunt Beverly and her daughter Deborah,” said Dana.

“Oh, yeah!’ said Lana. “And I guess Lindsey sprung her idea on you.”

“She said your Dad liked it,” said Mel.

“When did she tell you?” asked Lana.

“After first period.”

“She wasn’t supposed to say anything yet,” grumbled Lana. “She was supposed to wait till my Dad spoke with your Dad.”

“So, what were you two doing this morning?” asked Cory.”

Tina winked at Lana, then turned to Cory and said: “We had sex before school.”

“You did not!” Cory protested as Dana nearly doubled over snorting.

“Sure we did!” agreed Lana. “We fucked on the floor of the computer lab!  Mr. Daniels watched and played pocket pool.”

“That’s mean!” said Mel.

“I don’t know,” said Tina. “Mr. Daniels seems to like me at least half naked.”

“Someday,” Dana said trying to catch her breath. “Someday he’s going to spank you so hard!”

“I hope I’m there to watch!” said Cory, who had laughed so hard her eyes were tearing. “So you’re going to tell us what you were really doing?”

“No,” said Tina simply.

“Where’s Sandy?” asked Dana.

“No idea,” said Cory, wiping the tears out of her eyes.

“She already went home,” confirmed Mel.

“So,” Lana said as they headed homeward down Hollyhock way. “Tell me about your cousin.”

“Not worth your time,” said Tina.

“She’s actually very nice,” said Dana.

“She’s a backstabber.”

“Tina is jealous of her.”

“Dana gets wet for her.”

“She’s Gramma’s favorite,” said Dana. “Which really pisses Tina off.”

“Actually,” said Tina. “Dana is Gramma’s favorite, and Deborah undermines Dana at every opportunity.  But so far as  Dana is concerned, Princess Deborah can do no wrong.”

“And Tina only has assumptions with no facts,” said Dana.

“Time will tell.”

“You guys might try not acting like an old married couple!” said Lana, grinning. “It’s weird!”

“What’s weird is Dana’s obsession with Deborah!”

“She does sound interesting!” said Lana.

“That I’ll give her!” said Tina.

“Hey!  My Dad’s home early!” exclaimed Lana.

Sure enough, Officer Ron’s squad car was just pulling into the Phillips Driveway.  As the girls walked up, the big Irishman stepped out and watched them approach through mirrored ray-bans.

“Hi, Daddy!” Lana called.

“Hi, sugar,” said Officer Ron. “Where are your sisters?”

“No idea.”

“Hello, Girls.  Did Lana tell you about the slumber party tonight?”

“No,” said Melanie. “Lindsey did.”

“Good,” said Ron. “There’s a new family in town.  So Mrs. Newbire is sending her girls over.  They’re very nice, and you’ll  be good hostesses I hope.”

“But Daddy!”

“No buts!  I expect you to be gracious and friendly!”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“I ordered Pizza and some of those scary movies you girls like.”

“OOO!” cried Cory. “Creature from the Black Lagoon?”

“One, Two and Three,” confirmed Officer Ron.

“We all love those,” said Lana.

“I’ve never seen any of them.”

“They’re awesome!” said Lana. “These researchers…”

“Don’t spoil it!”

“We need to get ready anyway,” said Cory. “The big game is starting soon!”

“Oh, yeah,” said Lana. “I’ll meet you guys later.”

“Hey!” cried Tina. “Lana, wait.”

Lana stood and turned toward Tina.  Tina waited for her sisters to get a distance away before speaking.

“So, are you going to do it?”

“Do what?”

Tina snorted. “You know!  Give your Mom the Kobe treatment!”

“What Kobe treatment?” asked Officer Ron.

Poor Lana turned beat red all the ay to her blonde hairline.

Tina pulled out her copy of the pages the two girls had printed that morning.

“Uhm,” said the Cokely girl. “We did some research on Kobe Meat Girls this morning.  They give their girls daily massages… you know, for meat quality.  The girls supposedly really love it.”

Officer Ron took the pages and began flipping through them.

“Now that’s interesting,” said Officer Ron. “When did you plan on doing this?”

“Well,” said Tina. “I hoped while everyone was at the game…”

“Lana?” asked Officer Ron.

“I hadn’t thought about it,” said Lana.  “I only found out what Tina was up to this morning.”

Officer Ron nodded. “That’s what I thought.  So you really haven’t thought this through.”

“Well,” said Tina. “I have.”

“Think, Girl!” He addressed Lana. “Do you understand what might happen?”

Lana nodded, and, to indicate she knew exactly what he meant, she drew her finger down her front from her sternum down her belly.

“Alright then,” said Officer Ron. “I’ll have a talk with Don.  If he agrees, you can do it.  But you’ll have to wait till he gets here and your mothers get back.”

“Where’s Mom?” asked Lana.

“She went with Martha to the Airport to pick up Beverly and her daughter.”

“Oh,” said Lana, obviously disappointed.

“It’s okay,” said Tina. “It’ll give us time to study.  I’ll see you in a bit.  Bye Officer Ron!”

“Later!”

Tina picked up her bag and made her way across the short front yard to her own front door.  The cool air inside was a refreshing relief from the heat outside.  Daddy was pacing the front room looking a bit haggard.  He held his company cell phone to his ear and was listening intently.

Tina stood in shock, not expecting him to be home at all.  She thought quickly, thinking she could tell him about her plan and ask if he could send her sisters away so she and Mom  might not be disturbed.

“E-ya, Tom, can you hold on just a second?” said Daddy. “Yeah, hangon. Tina,” he looked at her. “I bought a bag of lemons.  Can you make some lemonaide for everyone?”

“Sure, Daddy, but…”

He held up a finger. “Yeah, Tom.  I’m here.  Oh, Hi Morgan,” he said as he rolled his eyes. LATER, he mouthed to Tina.  She could hear some woman screeching over the phone’s tiny speeker. “Yeah, no problem…”

Tina shrugged and made her way into the kitchen where, on the kitchen table, she found a brown paper grocery bag filled to the top with lemons.  Pink, she hoped.  Next to the bag was something she did not expect to find.  Three blank culling liscenses were fanned out next to the three that had been filled out for Gramma, Mom and Jeanine.  Tina picked one up, her hand shaking.

“On (blank) day of (blank) month of (blank) year, the female human being called (full name blank), birth certificate number: (blank), shall be converted in the State of Arizona to livestock for the purpose of rendered meat.  Said female will be claimed by a federally registered firm within 48 hours, or rendered in state within 72 hours…

At the bottom was a place to sign for the legal guardian if the female was married or veal as well as a place for the livestock to sign if she was an unmarried non-veal volunteer.  Non-veal volunteers were defined as any female who had begun her senior year in high school or achieved the age of 782 weeks.  Some fast math told Tina she was above that age… barely.

It was at that moment Tina realized she could simply volunteer with a shocking jolt of realization attacking all her senses.  She could take the form, fill it out, and she’d be meat!  Just like Mom!  There was even a pen.  Probably the same one Mom had used.

Tina reminded herself of the lemons, even as her body tingled terribly.  She was relieved when she cut the first one open and found it to be pink, thank God… such a knife was sharp enough to cut her open…  She had to be careful not to cut herself.

Fifteen Lemons made five gallons of strong lemonaide the way her family liked it.  It seemed like only seconds as she could not tear her mind off the image of a spit poised to enter her.

“I swear I’ll get that litte…” Daddy was muttering as he stormed into the kitchen.

“what’s wrong, Daddy?”

“Grrr!” he said, then gave Tina a look of embarrassment. “Mind if I vent?”

“No.”

“There’s this hot little number at work, name’s Morgan!  Got herself hired last month.  Now, we run a very tight ship, or so I thought!  Every piece of equipment sent to us goes out in tip top shape!  Sometimes better than factory specs!  WE even rebuilt a bunch of vintage Caterpillars the Hollywood folks thought beyond help!  They were ecstatic!  So we’re good!  Then this prissy college coed comes out of UCLA and starts fixing what ain’t broke!  So now, instead of checking off a repair, I have to give a full report on the condition of the parts replaced!  It takes five times as long and cuts the available man hours by two thirds!  Our productivity is hanging by a thread and only then because we’re all doing overtime!”

“That’s not good,” Tina said, not exactly following the story.

“No, it’s not!  Frank says she needs a good butt fffff…. Damn.  Sorry sweetie.”

“Oh!” Tina mocked horror. “My virgin ears!”

“Yeah…” said Daddy, shaking his head and grinning inspite of himself. “Still… you get the idea.”

“I do,” said Tina. “Did you invite her tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Daddy nodded. “I did.  Maybe she’ll use one of these blank licenses.”

Tina poured hot water over ten tablespoons of sugar.

“One can hope,” Tina said, her senses tingling again and embarrassed to be feeling it in front of Daddy.

“How much are you making?”

“Five gallons.”

“Oh,” said Daddy. “Is that a lot?”

Tina shook her head. “With our crowd?  Not even!”

“Oh…” said Daddy.

“Daddy,” said Tina, grinning to herself mischievously.

“Yes?”

“I flashed Mr. Daniels again today…. Yu can spank me later!”

“Don’t think I won’t!” said Daddy with furled brow.

“I don’t!” Tina grinned at him.

Daddy put his arms akimbo and shook his head.

“I think I know why Mr. Daniels is so frustrated with you!”

Tina just smiled.  Men are so easy!  She finished mixing the lemonaide and found space for it, barely, in the refrigerator.  Inside she found five sandwiches marked with her and her sisters’ names and the word “lunch” written upon the wrappers.  She pulled them out and set them on the table just as her three youngest sisters, led by Sandy, barreled downstairs.

“Mom made lunches,” said Tina, grabbing hers and heading to the front room.

Daddy was watching the news, so she sat and watched as she ate her sandwich.  All she saw that interested her was the story about Princess Caroline and her friends exposing their breasts to a group of choir boys and then, rumour had it, being ordered by Queen Elizabeth III to spend the day in the nude at Buckingham Palace.  You’d have thought the world was ending the way the British Commentators spoke.  There was even talk about abolishing the monarchy.

“Aren’t you going to put on your lingerie?” asked Sandy, who wore light blu8e lace with her sneakers.

“I’m not going to the game,” Tina said.

Daddy came in from outside, letting some heat in and cool  air out.

“Hey,” he said to Sandy. “So, slumber party tonight at Ron and Jeanine’s!”

“Really?” Sandy asked excitedly.

“Go tell your sisters!”

Sandy ran into the kitchen and noisily upstairs.

Daddy turned to Tina.

“Kobe?”

Tina tried to speak, but couldn’t form words.

“That’s about the nicest thing you could do for your mother, you know?  You’ve no idea how proud I am!”

Tina lept up and hugged Daddy, feeling his massive hands on her back.

“Now, why don’t you go shower, put your new things on, and be ready for Mom when she gets back!”

“Hey!” said Cory excitedly from the kitchen. “Come quick!  Look out back!”

Out back it seemed as if a carnival were being set up across the two rows of mulberry trees.  Throngs of their neighbours seemed to have gathered in the heat, and dressed, the men at least, in shorts and Sidewinders jerseys while many of the women wore lingerie.  Three banners had been hung: “Thank you Mrs. Finney!” and “Thank you Martha!” and “Thank you Jeanine!”

“Wow!” said Tina.

Some men were assembling picnic tables and both women and men rolled waste baskets in.

“Yeah!” said Daddy. He patted Tina’s bottom. “Shower!”

“’K, Daddy!”

Tina showered quickly and finished by coating herself in peach scented mineral oil the way her mother had taught her since she was ten, and let the oil soak in before donning her pearly white and royal blue lingerie.

When she came back downstairs, she thought she heard cheering and applause… no, it was definitely applause, and she found Lana, in her black Lingerie standing at the open front door between the heat and the coolness.

“Hey,” Lana said when she noticed Tina. “Check this out!”

Outside, Officer Ron and Grampa stood on the front porch.  Daddy was striding across the lawn toward a throng of men and women, clad as they were in the communal back yard surrounding a big black limousine.  Shortly, Daddy re-emerged carrying Mom in his arms.  She wore blue hot-pants and a white, collared halter that were very similar in colour to the underwear Gramma had selected for Tina.  Gramma and Jeanine followed close behind, and Officer Ron received his wife into his arms and kissed her deeply, to more applause and cheers while Daddy and Mom disappeared inside.

Behind Gramma, Aunt Beverly and the bitch, with her platinum blonde hair and “I’m better than you” boutique bought style managed to navigate the crowd with characteristic aplomb… the cunt.

Tina made way for her parents ad Daddy carried her mother in and disappeared into the kitchen.

Then next thing Tina noticed was Dana pleading pathetically with the cunt.

“Please, Deborah?” begged Dana with puppydog brown eyes. “It’ll be fun!”

“Oh, I suppose,” said the bitch.  “But Grandmother must come as well!”

Tina rolled her eyes and grabbed Lana’s hand, leading her into the kitchen.

“That black lace looks fantastic on you,” said Tina, who meant it, sort of.  She opened the refrigerator and extracted the five-gallon container of Lemonaide.  She did a mental count: six adults, no, seven counting Aunt Beverly, and extracted six tall glasses, handing them to Lana.

“Ice is in the freezer,” said Tina. “It’s still not cold enough.”

The two soon had a tray to serve up.  When Tina gave Mom hers, Mom regarded her with a very curious look of… well, Tina felt as though Martha were inspecting her.  Yesterday’s surrealness returned in full force.

“Goodness,” said Aunt Beverly as she looked through the back window over the sink. “Someone’s throwing a big party in your back yard.”

“We don’t do things by half,” said Officer Ron.

“Dear,” Gramma said to Mom. “May I borrow the Lingerie I bought you yesterday?  It seems I’ve being accousted by Dana and Deborah and being marched off to a sporting event.”

As Mom and Gramma went upstairs, Aunt Beverly took a seat next to Daddy and Jeanine at the kitchen table.

“I’d no idea it could be this hot outside Egypt!” said Beverly. “I feel so overdressed!”

“So strip off!” said Jeanine. “Nobody will mind!”

“I would,” said Beverly. “But I’m not wearing underwear.”

“Oh,” said Daddy. “When all the girls are gone, you could grab a quick shower and just wear one of Martha’s robes.”

“I feel like I’m cooking,” said Beverly.

“Oh,” said Tina. “Are you cooking tomorrow too, Aunt Beverly?”

“Oh, no, Dear.  I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Pity about that,” said Grampa.

“But soon!” said Aunt Beverly. “Deborah and I are going together next week.”

“Really?” asked Tina. “How come you can’t go with Mom and Gramma?”

Beverly shook her head. “Unfortunately Uncle Josh had to nix it for us.  He had an emergency and cannot be here this weekend, or we would.”

“Another Mother-Daughter Roasting,” said Jeanine dreamily, causing Tina and Lana to exchange glances. “Hey!” said Jeanine. “How come you’re still here?”

“I’m not going to the game,” said Lana.

“Why not?”

“Uhm, Tina and I…” Lana looked to Tina for help.

“We have a project we have to do,” said Tina.

“On Kobe,” said Officer Ron. “It’s alright, hun.  It’s pretty important stuff.  There will be other games.”

“Where are your sisters?” asked Jeanine.

“They left early,” said Lana.

“TINA!” called Dana from upstairs. “Can you come up here for a minute?”

What now? Tina thought as she rolled her eyes, knowing Dana was going to ask a favour involving turd-face.

“Coming!” Tina called back and made her way upstairs.

“Hey!” said Dana. “Can Deborah borrow your lingerie for the game?  You’re not going, right?”

I knew it!

“But I just got them!” Tina protested.

“Tina, you already said you don’t want to go to the game!  C’mon, please?”

Now, Tina loved all her sisters, and had a real affection for Dana… but sometimes, SOMETIMES, she just wanted to scream at her clueless blonde twin.

“Please?” Dana begged.

Lana appeared at Tina’s side.  “You won’t need them tonight, Tina.”

Oh god, Lana, you’ve no idea who you’re siding with!  But Dana’s puppy dog brown eyes were so difficult to say no to…

“Oh, all right!” Tina said, reaching back and unclasping her beautiful new shimmering lacy bra, and slipping out of her matching panties.

Deborah peaked out of the bathroom, modestly wrapped in Tina’s favorite fluffy blue towels!  Even with that insult it still occurred to Tina: she couldn’t remember ever having seen Deborah naked, though she and her sisters seemed to end up nude in front of Deborah all the time…

“Tina,” said Deborah. “You do look yummy!”

“Yeah,” Tina said. “I’m so sure!”

“She’s right, Dear,” said Gramma, who emerged wearing Mom’s new pearly white lace with her omnipresent string of pearls for adornment and blue pumps.  She looked positively lovely in her near nakedness.

“You look as beautiful as your mother,” said Gramma.

Tina had never been one to blush at a complement, nor was she in any way demure, as she’d demonstrated t Mr. Daniels incessantly.  But at Gramma’s comment, she felt truly naked, and her creamy flesh went pink as her arms moved to cover herself most selfconciously.

“I’ll have to find something to put on,” Tina said, feeling terribly naked.

“Don’t,” Gramma said. “Please.  Let everyone see you.”

Surreality became acute.  It was as frightening and alluring as the blank culling licenses.  As the thought of a long, cold spit…  She held Gramma’s gaze for a moment, then turned and carefully felt her way downstairs, almost afraid she’d tumble.

Tina found herself on the kitchen landing gazing at Mom and Jeanine engaged in a passionate liplock for several moments.

“That’s beautiful,” Tina breathed, forgetting her own nakedness in those moments.

Mom and Jeanine’s faces parted and turned to Tina, both pairs of eyes growing wide.

“Christina Lane Cokely!” Mom breathed. “You’re naked!”

“It’s okay, Martha,” said Lana from behind Tina. “Gramma asked that she stay naked.”

“She did?” asked Mom.

Tina nodded.

“What happened to your new lingerie?” Mom accused.

“Deborah’s borrowing them,” Tina said defensively. “She’s going to the game and Dana said Deborah had nothing to wear.”

“Oh,” said Mom.

“Calm down, luv,” Said Jeanine, stroking mom’s back. “She looks good in her skin.”

“Good enough to eat,” grinned Lana.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” said Mom.

“Oh, don’t be silly, Dear,” Gramma said as she arrived downstairs. “Tina likes the attention.  She always did.”

“Well,” said Mom. “That’s true.” Tina, for her part, wanted to protest, but thought better of it.

“Well,” said Gramma. “I’m off to this football match, and I’ve never so much as watched a game in my life.”

“Dana knows football,” said Tina, grateful for the change of subject. “She’ll explain it.  It’s actually fun once you understand what you’re seeing.”

“I suppose,” said Gramma. “I must speak with your grandfather.  I shall see you soon,” and with that, Gramma left the Kitchen even as Deborah and Dana arrived.

“Are you off?” Mom asked.

“Yes, Mom!” Dana said.

“Don’t get into trouble, and have fun!”

“Thanks Mom!  Bye guys!”

Tina hugged herself.

“Why don’t you girls go visit with your Aunt Beverly,” said Jeanine. “We’ll be right out.”

“Okay,” said Lana, taking Tina’s hand and leading her into the front room.

On the couch, Daddy sat reading what Tina thought was her copy of the Kobe sheets with Aunt Beverly sitting beside him. “…The meat girl will nearly be asleep when her back is relaxed.  At this point, you may roll your meat girl over and begin massaging her thighs and pelvis… Tina, why are you naked?”

“It’s alright, Dear,” Gramma, who was in the corner with Grampa. “I told her to go nude.”

“Oh.”

“Hi, Tina!” said Aunt Beverly. “Are you really going to massage your mother?”

“I hope so,” said Tina.

“I wish I could get one,” said Beverly. “But I guess you have to be on the menu to get a massage around here,” she grinned. “Who’s this lovely thing?”

“Bev, this is my daughter Lana.  Lana, this is Martha’s sister Beverly.”

“Nice to meet you, Lana,” Aunt Beverly smiled sweetly.

“Tina,” said Daddy. “In our room, in the closet, you’ll find a comforter.  It’s black and green, very thick.  Can you go get it?”

“Sure, Daddy,” said Tina.  She slipped though the kitchen barely noticed as Mom and Jeanine where whispering to each other about something.  She heard the phone ring once as she went up the stairwell before someone, probably Mom, snapped it up.  With her parents’ comforter in her arms she could not see ahead of her and had to carefully feel her way downstairs, but once back in the kitchen she saw Mom hand the phone to Jeanine.

“It’s Miley,” said Mom.

Tina loved Miley.  She was Naomi’s best friend in the world, and Tina missed her almost as much as she missed Naomi.

“Say ‘Hi’ for me,” said Tina.  Mom nodded even as Beverly appeared.

“Tina…” Aunt Beverly asked. “What’s going on?” Tina filled her in. “Listen,” Beverly continued. “I really do need a shower.  Can you show me where everything is?”

“Okay,” Tina said. “Let me get rid of this.”

In the front room, Lana was sitting between Officer Ron and Grampa reading her copy of the Kobe sheets as Tina plopped down the comforter.

“Tina,” Lana said. “It says we’re supposed to tie up the girl.  Did you know that?”

“No,” Tina said, feeling a bit harried at the moment. “I’ll be right back.” She Slipped back into the Kitchen and led Aunt Beverly up the stairs.

“Do you use oil?” asked Tina as she retrieved a fluffy pink towel and wash cloth.

“Of course,” said Beverly. “Your grandmother taught all of us to do that.  I take it your mother passed that on?”

Tina nodded. “We have Peach, Lemon, Apricot, Apple…”

“I adore apple,” said Aunt Beverly. “Can you undo my clasp?”  She turned her back to Tina and pulled her hair away revealing that the back of the nit, turtle neck dress had a clasp and a zipper in back.  Tina undid the clasp and unzipped it, revealing Aunt Beverly’s creamy bare back.  She wore no bra.  As the dress slipped off, Tina saw her aunt wore nothing at all underneath.  Beverly turned to show off the dark blonde pubic thatch that adorned her mons and Tina’s nipples hardened in spite of herself.

Aunt Beverly smiled.

“So,” she said. “Are you going to volunteer for tomorrow’s roast?”

Tina was instantly wet, and her breasts tingled unbearably.

“You’d look beautiful on a spit.”

“I…” Tina’s body was on fire.  Everything, every one, it seemed, was pointing her to volunteering.  It had been in the back of her mind since she kissed Mom. “I don’t know,” here eyes roved over Beverly’s nude form.

Aunt Beverly was slightly taller than Mom by about an inch, but with the same hazel eyes and small mouth.  That platinum blonde hair was natural, and Beverly’s breasts were more round whereas Tina’s, and Mom’s, tended to be more pointed.  At Beverly’s mound, under a rounded belly, she sported what was, in fact, a well groomed dark blonde thatch that dipped under her crotch and covered her cleft fully.  Tina flinched as Aunt Beverly touched her arm.

“Why don’t you join me,” she said in a sultry sweet tone.  “Help me wash.”  As sweetly as it was delivered, it was no less a command by an adult to a teenager.

Obediently, Tina slid into under the cascading warm water and picked up the wash cloth and soap.  She barely managed to keep focused, not wanting to embarrass herself as Beverly’s hands kept touching her in her most private parts.  Tina went to work, diligently, deliberately and slowly washing away whatever it was that caused Beverly to want a shower.

“It would be a nice gesture to your mother,” said Aunt Beverly.

“Huh?” asked Tina, as she struggled to keep her body from slipping as it reacted to Beverly’s caresses.

“Volunteering, I mean,” said the older woman. “Think about it, alright?”

“Yes, Aunt Bev.”

“Now, which oil do you like?”

Tina did, in the end, manage to keep control as Beverly smeared Peach Oil over her flesh with deft sensuality.  She felt as if she was about to be ravished, or was about to beg for ravishment at any moment.  By the time she dried, Beverly had a chesure look about her, as if Tina was a favorite dish Beverly was about to devour.

Downstairs, they found only Lana sitting alone in her black Lingerie.

“What happened?” Tina asked. “Where is everyone.”

“I don’t know,” said Lana. “Suddenly they all went upstairs and closed your parents bedroom door!”

“I better go find out,” said Beverly, who had wrapped herself in the big towel.  It was the last Tina would see of her, or any of the adults in the house that day.

Tina and Lana could only stare at each other, knowing for certain that what plans they had were dashed.
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