“Everything my mom said?” she asked. “Of course. I heard every little detail. I knew she was slutty growing up, but I had no idea. I mean, her stepdad? Getting double teamed? Whoa.”
“Yeah,” I said. I wondered, on some level, just how different the two women really were.
“Well, rest assured she’ll try again tomorrow,” she said.
“Yeah, about that, what am I supposed to do? I mean, I can say no, but I’m going to be here all the time.”
“Who said you have to say no?” she asked, snuggling close to me. Her eyes twinkled, and she continued, “you’re my boyfriend, and I don’t want you running around with other girls, but I don’t feel the same way about my mom.”
“You don’t?” I asked.
“Nope,” she said plainly. “In fact, I’m curious how far you can push things with her.”
“But what if I don’t want to?” I asked. To be fair, I didn’t know what I wanted, but I felt some level of protest was appropriate.
“Then you don’t have to. But, as your girlfriend, I solemnly swear not to be angry at you for doing my mom. In fact, since I’ll be watching, I had a few ideas.”
And so the next day I began work as usual. Amy said she was out with some friends, although I expected her to be back in her room in a few minutes. We had worked out a plan the night before after she snuck over to my room for some midnight sex.
That time I had taken her over the window sill, our bodies bathed in moonlight.
Susan was in the kitchen, wearing a skimpy sundress. I was finishing up Amy’s room when I heard the rustle of the tree and then saw my girlfriend climb into her window.
“Hello,” I greeted.
“Hi,” she said brightly. “Almost done?”
“Just pulling off the tape around your mirror,” I said. “Then I’m going downstairs.”
“And has she tried anything?” Amy asked.
“No, I told her I needed to finish your room. No doubt she doesn’t want me spending too much time up here.”
We spoke in whispers, interspersed with quick kisses as I grabbed my supplies to head downstairs.
“Give her hell, Henry,” she said in my ear while patting my butt. I grinned, then headed downstairs.
Susan was making me a sandwich, her usual lunch routine. She had insisted on feeding me as part of the job, and I couldn’t complain. She glanced over her shoulder but kept working until I pressed up against her, grinding my erect penis into her soft ass. I knew she wore nothing underneath, so I was pressing right into her ass.
“Hmm, finished painting?” she asked. She started to turn around but I gently pressed her forward so she bent over the counter. Without hesitation I lifted up her sundress. I ran my hands over her bare ass, still pressing my erection against her.
“I thought you were feeling guilty?” she said.
“Should I stop?” I asked.
“No, no don’t,” she sighed, resting against the counter as I felt up her ass.