Still…the “thought” of actually walking into the bathroom where Tracy’s mom was showering was a little unnerving. But she had said that I wouldn’t be able to see anything, though even then I half hoped that I would, figuring I’d simply hand her the bottle of shampoo through the curtain or something when I walked in, and then retreat quite rapidly back outside again.
I opened the door, the steam from the hot shower already filling up the bathroom. If I were to see anything, it wasn’t going to be very easy, and I knew then that I wouldn’t and that all would be just as she said it would. I approached the shower curtain, bottle in hand, said something like “here” and held it out in her direction. I watched the curtain part, realizing as it did that I could see the brief silhouette of her as she stood behind the curtain. But what I wasn’t prepared for as she pulled the curtain open, was her reflection in the bath-tile behind her on the wall, clearly revealing her nude body to me completely.
Her breasts were large, even larger than Tracy’s perhaps. A fact that for whatever reason had gone unnoticed by me until this very moment. But the most distinct image that suddenly burned itself into my mind, was the dark thick patch of pubic hair that I was able to clearly distinguish between her legs. All this had happened of course within the span of a few seconds time, but to me, it had seemed like an eternity. I handed her the bottle of shampoo as she reached for it around the curtain; my eyes still fixed distinctly on the image that was displayed on the bathroom tiles as I did. I turned, and started to walk back towards the bathroom door.
“Sit down on the toilet,” Lisa told me. “So we can have a little chat!”
It wasn’t so much a request, but more like a command. And this time I felt by the tone of her voice that getting the shampoo was nothing more than a ploy in order to corner me about what Tracy and I had planned, or what we’d been up to or something. Though choosing this particular setting to do that in was certainly a little strange.
“Leave the door cracked,” she had added. “So we can hear the phone ring, or the door open.”
That gave me a little comfort. Though very little. I was nervous enough already sitting inside the bathroom with her, Lisa nude just behind the shower curtain, me sitting on the John, though fully dressed of course. I could just see someone coming home and finding me sitting here. That would be a hard one to explain for either one of us.
Sitting down as I had been asked however, I made sure I had one ear on any sounds coming from the inside of the house, especially the phone. The other, was only then starting to tune in to what it was that Lisa had started asking me about.
Lisa began by telling me that she and Tracy had had several long female-to-female chats about us. And though that didn’t surprise me really, when she told me that Tracy had told her everything we’d been doing, that did! I honestly couldn’t imagine Tracy telling her mother “everything” but then as Lisa began to share with me some of which Tracy had told her, I began to wonder. It could have been a bluff too, a way of getting me to let down my guard, so I remained very dubious and uncommitted to her questioning. Sensing this, she began getting more specific with me however, and then I couldn’t help but wonder just how much Tracy really had told her mother.
“I know that the two of you care a great deal about one another.” She began. “And possibly, you may even love one another, though I think you’re still far too young to understand the meaning of that yet. However, I know that the two of you have been experiencing certain urges and desires for one another, and that you have grown intimate in several areas already.”
Listening to Lisa tell me all this was quite worrisome, and I was beginning to feel very uneasy and alarmed that she was about to pull out the rug from under me or something by way of some threat or promise to reveal all to Tracy’s father. But I began to notice a change in her accusatory tone when she began subtly asking me for more specific details of what we’d been doing so far.
“Don’t get me wrong, I believe what Tracy’s told me so far as being the truth, and especially that the two of you haven’t engaged in sexual intercourse. But! I want to hear your side of it as well so that I can compare it to what she’s told me. Then, if it matches up, I will know that I’m not being lied to, and won’t feel like I have to take it any further as long as I believe I can trust the two of you.”
Though she hadn’t come out and said it, the implied threat was there. I didn’t know if she would in fact involve Tracy’s father, but I certainly didn’t want to chance the risk of that either. As I sat listening to her, thinking about what my options were, I found I really didn’t have any. If I failed to tell her everything, and if Tracy had, then it would look like we were trying to hide more.
“What is it you want to know?” I responded. And only then really looked up towards the shower curtain half expecting her to pop her head out to look at me. She didn’t but as I continued watching her shadow behind the curtain, the outlines of her body so distinctly being shown, I couldn’t help but feel a slight excitement building either as I began to get from her the type of information she was looking for.
“I want you to tell me how often that the two of you masturbated one another, where, when, and basically how often. How many times have you orally satisfied each other? Everything basically, from the beginning.”
She obviously hadn’t left any room for maneuvering that was for sure. And so I began, sitting there on the toilet seat, describing in fairly explicit detail our encounters, from the first day inside my car when Tracy first allowed me to see and play with her breasts. Including the time when we’d first seen one another naked on the night in which she had discovered my missing wallet.
It was while I was sitting describing all this to her that I continued looking at and almost through the shower curtain. What had appeared to me initially as her continuance of washing herself, suddenly appeared to be much more than that. I suddenly noticed that she seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time washing between her legs, which is what she at first appeared to be doing. But as I continued to describe some of our more intimate sessions spent together, our marathon “69” encounters at my place after school, I saw that Lisa was continuing to wash herself “down there” for long periods of time. In fact, that’s about all she was doing. I became excited, wondering. Was she in fact masturbating in the shower while I was sitting here telling her all this? No. She couldn’t possibly be doing that; it had to be my over active imagination. I continued however, still keeping a careful and watchful ear for the phone, or the sound of the front door opening, anything. But wondering as well if what I had now begun to suspect were true, began to get a little more explicit in my visualization to her. At one point, I thought I actually heard her moan, though with the sound of the water covering most everything else, I couldn’t be exactly sure of that. One thing I was becoming sure of however was that she wasn’t just washing. Not constantly like she had been anyway. Finally, she semi confirmed what I had begun to suspect.
“Do you enjoy licking my daughters pussy?” She suddenly asked me.
And her question nearly caught me by surprise. I had to think for a moment but then finally responded to her.
“Why do you ask that?” I questioned back.
I saw her stop doing whatever it was that she was doing. And thought I had gone too far, felt momentarily that I had now put her into an uncomfortable corner, and that this discussion would suddenly come to a screeching halt, and I realized I didn’t really want that to happen, not yet anyway.
Lisa paused for a moment longer before she answered. “The reason I asked is because most men would only do that because they felt they had too, especially if they were involved in orally pleasuring one another simultaneously. I was just wondering if you honestly did enjoy doing it, I’d hate to think that you were like most men, and that Tracy might one day find herself married to a man that was only doing it in order to get his own pleasure from it as well.”
Somehow I felt that she had just described her own situation to me in so many words.
“No, it’s not like that at all between us. I really do enjoy doing that,” I emphasized without coming out and saying that I enjoyed eating out her daughter’s cunt.
“Do you enjoy what she does to you then? Equally as well?” And I watched as she asked me that, as she once again continued to begin ‘washing’ herself in the same manner as she had been doing previously.
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