With Friends Like Me Again

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“Hello, Mrs. Bain.”

“Oh, hello Julie. When did you get back?”

“Just this morning,” I lied, “Is Jen home?”

“She’ll be right back, she just ran down to the store. Will you be staying with us?”

“No, I have to go somewhere tonight, but I’ll be back tomorrow. Can I stay with you guys tomorrow night?”

“Of course, dear. Jen will be so glad to see you. How long has it been?”

“To long. I wish we lived closer. I miss Jen a lot, and you too, of course.”

“We’ve missed you to, Julie,” she said, giving me a hug.

Her breasts pressed against me, and I could feel the warmth of her body through her clothes. I wanted to take her right then, the way Jen and I did last night, but I gave her a peck on the cheek and a pat on the back instead. I didn’t even cry out with the anguish I felt when we pulled apart and she busied herself in the kitchen.

“Here she comes,” she called out as a car pulled into the driveway.

“Julie,” Jen squealed, dropping her package on the table and dashing to me as if we hadn’t seen each other for ten months.

We hugged and danced around each other, and then dashed into the back yard. We got on the big tree swing, the same one we’d used since childhood. Many a childhood conspiracy had been planed on that swing, and now we worked out the details of a much more adult one.

“Did she suspect anything?”

“Not a clue,” I said, “I got a little nervous when she hugged me, but it was okay.”


“Well, for one thing I wanted to rip her clothes off and drag her down on top of me right there in the kitchen,” I said.

“Oh, Julie, I know what your mean. You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to do the same thing,” She said, “Are you wearing the panties?”

“Yes. I’ve been wearing them since last night. They feel sinfully sexy.”

“They weren’t very clean when I gave them to you, they must be awful by now.”

“You can’t smell them, can you?”

Jen leaned closer and sniffed, “No.”

“Every time I think about what we’re doing to her tonight, I get moist.”

“They’ll be kind of ripe by tonight.”

“They’re ripe right now,” I giggled, “By tonight, I’ll have to put them in a zip-lock bag.”

“So I guess we won’t have to go jogging to make them really stink, will we?”

“Hmm, I might,” I said, “Shhh, here she comes.”

She was smiling broadly as she carried our snakes out on a tray. It’s a long way to the swing, and she had to step carefully not to spill anything.

“It’s so strange to see you two out here again. Two little tomboys, grown into beautiful women.”

She set the tray between us; two glasses of milk, a stack of sandwiches, cut in quarters with the crusts cut off, and a small stack of Oreo cookies. It was our traditional lunch of years gone by.

“Thank you, Mrs. Bain.”

“Thanks Mom.”

I watched her ass as she made her way back to the house. I would be burying my face in that ass tonight. My tongue would force its way inside and I’d taste her nastiness. I’d bite those soft cheeks while her legs kicked helplessly, and kiss each boo-boo when I was done.

It’s almost midnight and Jen opens the back door before my foot hits the first step. She opens the bag I give her and paws through the things I bought. She gives me one of the ski masks, and pulls the other over her head.

“Wait,” I say, and wash my mouth out with Listerine, the kind that smells like medicine. I never use that stuff, nor the cheap perfume I’m wearing. I don’t want Mrs. Bain to recognize my smell, Bomonti Escort except for the smell I’m saving for her in my panties.

“I’m still worried,” Jen said.

“I’ll be careful,” I said.

Jen wanted to be the one keeping her mother quiet while we got her tied up. If the ski mask came off in the struggle, her mom could pretend she hadn’t seen her daughters face. But if Mrs. Bain saw me, she would know who her other attacker was, and it would ruin everything. I shouldn’t be risking this, but I had to.

She was curled up under the covers when we sneaked into her room. Her big pillow hid half of her face, and the other half looked like a sleeping angle. Her lips were slightly parted, a small O of soft, red flesh. Those lips were the reason I was willing to risk it all.

We didn’t jump on her; we slid onto her gently, sealing her inside her covers. We tucked them in closer around her with every squirm, and pressed her into the bed with our combined weight.

She was twisting her head around, trying to get it back out from under the sheet. My moment had come and I waited eagerly for the rest of her head to come out.

Her luxurious dark hair was free, cascading over the sheets, her shell like ear was inches from my lips, her long eyelashes fluttered like butterflies, and then they were there, her lips, her soft, perfect lips, pursing to cry out.

My hand gently covered her, and those delightful lips pressed into the palm of my hand. Her neck twisted and turned, but I pressed my cheek to hers and held her still. Her hot breath washed over my top finger as she breathed through her nose, and my hand tingled with the vibrations of her muffled cries.

My satin panties would soon cover her lovely head, but I had to have more of those velvet lips before then.

Jen was taking my panties off for me, and I helped her by lifting my hips. I couldn’t let those lips be covered before I kissed them, so I twisted her head back and replaced my hand with my mouth.

She fought me, but she let my tongue explore her mouth after I pinched her nose shut.

Jen was waiting with my well-worn panties when I finally broke the kiss, and we both worked the fragrant garment down over her mother’s head.

I held her mother down while Jen went and turned on the bedroom light. The satin panties were totally opaque, she wouldn’t be able to see us, and we’d be able to see every inch of her beautiful body.

She stopped pleading for us to take the soiled panties off her head the instant Jen got up. Instead, she grunted with effort and strained to throw me off. Mrs. Bain is very strong, she was even able to twist all the way to her side, but the bedding held her like a cocoon, and I held her firmly inside that cocoon.

I rode her like a cowgirl, my arms wrapped around her neck, my legs gripping her hips as she bucked. Jen looked concerned when the light washed over us, but she only had to look at my face to know how much I was enjoying the ride.

She came back to the bed, put her head close to her mothers, and watched as the struggle weakened and died.

The black satin showed the outline of her open mouth as she gasped inside her panty prison. We were supposed to get my new bondage gear on her now, but Jen had the same problem I did. We couldn’t wait for buckles and straps when so much of her was so close.

Jen gathered her mother’s head in her arms, and started kissing her mother’s face through the panties. I don’t think Bostancı Escort she was aware of what she was doing, any more than I was aware that my hips were moving against her side.

Jen kept kissing the panty encased face, sometimes sliding it down to her breasts and rubbing it there, but always she’d return to kissing and nuzzling it.

I’d worked the bedding up under her, and could hold her motionless with my arms and legs. I closed my eyes and savored her warmth as I squeezed her intermittently.

That’s all we did for the longest time. There wasn’t any rush; we had all night. The boy would ring the doorbell at nine, but ’till then, Mrs. Bain was our love toy.

The hiss of Velcro roused me, and I realized I’d let myself get too close. I slowed my hips to a more moderate pace, but even that was too much. I had to lift completely off her and try to cool down. I can’t bring myself to endless orgasms, and however many I had tonight; I wanted them to be special. Having one by just humping her hip seemed like a waste.

The first things that came out of the bag were the puppy gloves. They were the best that money could buy, and a marvel of simplicity. They were designed so even the strongest man would be helpless against the probing cock of a gay lover.

The next thing was a plastic, collapsible leg spreader. I bought it because the good one wouldn’t fit in the bag. I might as well have saved my money. We couldn’t get that piece of crap to work, and wound up breaking it.

I kept holding Mrs. Bain down while Jen pushed the covers up her legs. She got on top of her legs and pushed her head up under the covers.

I tried to keep from getting the giggles over all the commotion going on under the bed spread, and Jen’s hair was a total mess by the time she sat up again.

We both saw our mistake as soon as we pulled the covers off. She was completely helpless, just as we’d planned, but she still had on her nightshirt and panties.

Jen nodded “okay” when I moved my fingers like scissors, but only for the panties. She didn’t want to cut the nightshirt off her, for some reason, so we wound up pushing it over her head and sliding it behind her back. It was kind of neat the way it worked out. The nightshirt wasn’t in the way back there, and it forced her to stick her breasts out more.

I’m sure Jen has seen her many times, but that was the first time I’d seen Mrs. Bain completely naked. How could a woman with a grown daughter have a body like that?

Jen sat on her legs and traced the back of her fingernails up one thigh and down the other. She’d tickle around the pubic hair, open those rose petal lips and blow on them, and then resume her tantalizing trip around her thighs.

I just wanted to rub every inch of her body. Her breasts were right there, soft and inviting, but my hands found their way to her face. I held her head between my knees and ran my hands over the satin, feeling her lips, her nose, her cheeks and even her ears beneath it. I lowered my face to her and kissed the same wet part of the panty Jen had been kissing. Then finally I moved on to her breasts.

Her nipple popped up in my mouth like a small penis. I could hear her gasp when I started, and she let out a shuddering sigh as I sucked. I’ll admit, I wasn’t trying to excite her just then, I don’t even know if the delight it gave me was completely sexual. I just needed to suckle at her breast, and I closed my eyes and sucked loudly as my hand squeezed Esenyurt Escort rhythmically.

Jen was using her mouth too. I could see her twinkling eyes as her nose rested in the soft flesh of her mother’s pubic mound.

“No, please, don’t,” she kept sobbing, but her legs slipped further apart every time the bed jiggled.

Jen was getting her close. She was trembling all over and I knew it would be an earth shattering orgasm for her, but instead of moaning with lust, she was whimpering and crying.

Jen jumped up before her mother could come, and scrambled for her head.

“Nooooo,” her mother moaned in agony, “let me finish, just once, I’ll do anything, please.”

I moved down between Mrs. Bain’s legs, to take Jen’s place while she made her mother eat her, but Jen shook her head “no.”

“I don’t let her come,” Jen whispered in my ear, “I never let her come. I will never, ever, let her come in my presence.”

I didn’t understand, I still don’t, but as I watched her body writhe, and heard her frantic efforts to breath while her daughter rode her mouth, I moved up behind Jen and started kissing her neck.

Jen takes a very long time to reach orgasm. I hadn’t been able to see what had taken her so long last night, but I could watch it all tonight.

If I had gotten on her mother’s face first, I would have just humped it or made her eat me. Hell, even men accidentally hit the right spot often enough to get me off faster than Jen.

Now that I watch the way Jen does it, I wonder why I’m always in such a rush.

She starts in ultra-slow motion. Tucking her butt up, she presses herself down on her mothers upturned face. Then she pushes herself down the face, ever so slowly. I can see a slight quiver as she presses down harder and holds at the end, then she relaxes and moves up to the top, and starts again.

A glistening trail of moisture is on Mrs. Bain’s face after the very first stroke. I sometimes get moist with excitement, but I’ve never got as wet as this. Jen’s slow sliding is smothering her mother, and the frantic efforts to catch a breath keep twisting and bulging the soft flesh of Jen’s clean-shaven pussy.

I don’t see how Jen can be so quiet with something like that going on in her pussy. I can feel the vibrations or her mother’s screams in my own pussy, and mine isn’t covering her mouth.

Jen is lost in carnal pleasure, and I know she won’t come back until after those adorable high squeaks she makes when she has an orgasm. It will take a long time, and the wild thrashing beneath me will have weakened a lot by then, but it’s comfortable sitting on her mother’s soft breasts, and it’s a long time ’till dawn.


The kid rings the bell at 9:00 AM; Jen and Julie scramble around like it’s unexpected. They make mom think it was Julie at the door, coming back from her trip. Ergo, mom doesn’t know who’s joined her daughter in their kinky sex game. Hope you don’t mind my just dumping these “facts,” but they only cross a couple “t’s,” and they aren’t sexy.

Authors note:

The panties I describe in this story are real. I got them from Satique Lingerie in Manhattan. They are very well made and I am delighted with them. They have two types; the brief and the hipster. I got the brief and it’s perfect, I can’t see what good the hipster is though. They also have something called a hood panty. Yep, you’ve got it. It’s a panty with a built in hood for a “friends” head. I didn’t buy that one, but I should. You know, for research, in case I have to use them in a story or something. I’ll give you their web address if you say something nice about my writing.

I think I made up the “puppy gloves,” but some sections of my brain have been sacrificed to the amber liquid. The name and purpose of “puppy gloves” may be all that’s left after the brain cells with the whole picture died at some party.

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