Jennifer

"Momma! You mean...you and Dad...in the pool!"

Alexandra laughed so hard she started to cough. "Jesus Christ, Jenny, why do you think your father put in the pool heater? And this huge fence? To keep out the wolves? The man couldn't keep his hands off me in the water. Lord, we met at the beach!"

"I never would have guessed!"

"Oh, jeez, that first day when we opened the pool every summer, we'd spend the entire day, all three of us, swimming. And whenever you weren't looking, your Daddy would have a hand inside my suit, pinching a nipple or fingering my clit. And I'd pull his pants down and rub him up. And later, when we put you to bed, he'd drag me back to the pool and strip me down. I'd always buy a new suit at the beginning of summer, just to keep him guessing. Sometimes a bikini, sometime a one-piecer, sometimes a strapless number he could just peel off me. And we'd fuck all night long, that first night. The shallow end, the deep end, the deck, the diving board - you name it we did it anywhere and anyway around that pool."

"Wow! I just can't imagine you and Daddy screwing in the pool."

"Oh, yeah. And summers, when you went to camp for two weeks, your Pop would come home early, or just call in sick. And he'd go out into the back yard where I'd be sunbathing and rub oil all over me. It was so romantic. He so gently remove my suit and then rub the oil in so sensuously. Sometimes he'd roll me on my back and make me come just by oiling my tits. And sometimes he'd oil my ass until I almost fell asleep, or at least till I felt his oily cock entering my asshole."

"Wow!"

"Your Dad was one of a kind."

"I guess so. Ever think of remarrying?"

"Mmmm...Not yet. Or maybe I just haven't met the right guy yet. After Jim died I didn't date again for almost two years. But your aunt convinced me that thirty three was two young to dry up and be a sainted widow, and that I needed to get back in the groove. That was only four years ago. Who knows? Maybe there's a man out there just waiting for me?"

"And besides, the search can be fun itself, huh?"

"The practice is certainly worth it. I've never heard of wearing out your cunt."

"So when did Bobby leave? The next day?"

"Oh, shit, no! I wasn't about to let a stud like that loose. Let me see, now..." Alexandra counted the days and nights, and said, "Four days, three nights. Sort of a long weekend."

"And you just fucked around the pool?"

"Nope. It rained the rest of the time. So I gave him a fashion show of my own. I must have put on every piece of trashy slutwear I owned, paraded around in it, and then fucked him. And then changed and did it over again. I never knew I still had some of those outfits."

"Like what?"

"Oh, like a black leather minidress. Thigh high leather boots. Crotchless blue jeans. An old stripper's outfit your Dad got me once. I even found an old feather boa and some handcuffs."

"You let Bobby handcuff you!?!"

"Oh, no. I just found them in a drawer. But I know a fellow I might try it with."

"Holy shit!"

"Oh, kid, it's so good to talk to you again!"

"You've got to come and visit."

"Yeah. I do deserve a vacation."

Chapter 16

Jennifer and Margaret lolled in hammocks on the front yard of the Lakehouse. It had been a little over a week since Jennifer had talked to her mother, and both expected her to show up sometime today. So they had given themselves a day off and lazed the afternoon away.

The manic sex drives they had felt had subsided to their normal horny levels, much to the relief of an exhausted Roger and Rocky. Margaret's period had come and gone, and she told Jennifer that meant her mother's had passed, too, since they shared the same cycle. All three would be up for fucking.

Margaret's evening and morning had been spent in the company of a now rested Roger and Rocky. She had given them a proper workout in her suite. First she had knelt, and while Rocky had plunged into her cunt, Roger had knelt before her to receive an excellent blow job. Then, lying on her back on the bed, with her legs hanging off the side, Roger had stood by the bed, holding her legs and fucking her. Meanwhile, Rocky had straddled her chest and titfucked the thirty-eight DD breasts, as Margaret, head on several pillows, had leaned in to suck the giant cockhead. Finally, after further contortions and numerous orgasms all around, she had made a sandwich with the pair in the late morning. Laying atop Rocky, cock deep in her gaping twat, Roger had knelt behind her and penetrated her twitching asshole. The threesome had leisurely fucked their way to a shattering triple orgasm.

Jennifer had spent the evening 'filing' in the 'Office' for Mr. Timmons. If anything, her outfit, while secretarially professional, was even more abbreviated than her aunt's had been. She now knew why her aunt had serviced the man, his cock belied his size. As large as her ex-lover Bobby, he had taken her five times, and caused her to orgasm at least twice as often as that. The leather chair, the desk top, the office couch, even the copy machine were utilized in a multihour delight.

In the morning, seeing that Margaret, Roger, and Rocky were occupied elsewhere, she had joined a few of the girls sunbathing on the back deck. She had long since shed the notion of tanning in a suit, and lay down under the hot sun naked. When Lacey, Jackie, and Lisa began rubbing oil on her, she had simply smiled, as their hands rubbed her erect nipples and oozing pussy. Coming, she had returned the favors, and the reclining quartet continued on in extended sapphic passion. While decidedly straight, Jennifer enjoyed the lessons she was receiving in breast and nipple sucking, and cunt and clit licking, and endeavored to be a good student.

Now, temporarily sated, the two women semi-dozed in their hammocks, occasionally waking to pour a drink from a tall, frosted pitcher. Both were dressed casually, in loose shorts and tee shirts. Every once in a while, one or the other would dreamily slip a hand into her waistband and extended fingers would gently massage a clit, or slip under her shirt to subtly flick and pinch a nipple to a quiet but intense orgasm.

The quiet reverie was broken by the roar of an automobile engine, accompanied by loud honking of a horn. Opening their eyes, Jennifer and Margaret were greeted by the sight of a red convertible roaring up the driveway, driver waving to them. The car screeched to a stop before them.

"Mom!" yelled Jennifer, rising and running to the side of the car. Margaret followed more sedately. Alexandra opened the car door and stepped out, giving her daughter a long, tight hug.

Margaret watched the sight and burst out laughing. Clutching her stomach and pointing at her sister, she collapsed to the ground in paroxysms of laughter. Jennifer went over to her and demanded to know what was so funny. Margaret pointed again at her sister, and gasped out, "Catch me, fuck me!" before laughing again.

Jennifer stared at her aunt before turning back to her mother, now also bent over in laughter. Eventually, both women regained control of themselves, and hugged, as Jennifer stood by baffled.

"What the hell was so funny?" she demanded. "What did you mean, 'Catch me, fuck me'?"

As Alexandra burst into laughter again, Margaret pointed to her. "Her clothes! She's wearing catch me, fuck me clothes." Alexandra still laughing, did a small pirouette before the duo, and Margaret started to laugh again.

Jennifer looked her mother's clothing over. It seemed somewhat extreme, even by Jennifer's newly lowered standards. Alexandra was wearing high heeled sandals, with at least five inch spike heels, and no stockings. Around her waist was an incredibly short skirt, barely wider than a large belt, that covered her pussy and asscheeks with considerable difficulty. From the pirouette, Jennifer knew her mother had been driving around without any underwear on. Above the skirt, Alexandra was wearing a sleeveless silk blouse, which while not sheer or transparent, was very thin. The blouse was open to the waist, where it was loosely tied together. No bra was worn, and Alexandra's nipples pushed the light fabric even farther open.

Finally, Margaret calmed down enough to talk again. "Back when we were living here as kids, we used to drive like madmen. To keep from getting tickets, we got to wearing outfits like that. We'd call them 'catch me, fuck me' clothes. If a cop pulled us over for speeding, why we'd just hike the skirt up and open up the top some. The bastard would get so flustered he'd usually let us go."

"I figured, why fly? I'll drive out.," said Alexandra. "So I dug out some old clothes, just to make sure I made good time." Smiling, she made another turn.

"Did it work?" asked Jennifer.

"Almost. The first two cops let me go with a warning. But the third was a dyke Kansas state trooper. The only way I was going to get out of that was by letting her do me with her billy club!"

"Well, that's women's lib for you!" laughed Margaret.

"And no problems since Kansas?" asked Jennifer.

"Well I got pulled over about three this morning before I got out of Utah. But I sure didn't mind. I pulled the skirt up around my waist, and stuck my tits out the front of my top. And this dreamy guy comes over to ask for my license."

"Sounds like you wanted to get pulled over.," commented Margaret.

"This guy can arrest me anytime he wants. Big, young, muscular. I mean, he had on one of those form fitting uniforms, you know, like it had been tailored for him. He took my license and started talking to me. Wouldn't give it back, wouldn't write me up, no warning about speeding, no nothing. Kept looking down at my tits and pussy, and isn't fazed a bit. I'm looking at him, going back and forth between this beautiful, square-jawed face, and this really big erection in his pants. I'm really getting wet, you know."

"Anyway, it's really deserted. No traffic at all. So I just open the door and get out. My skirt and blouse fall back in place. I lean back against the car and ask if he's going to arrest me or whatever. His eyes just pop open. Then I ask if he has to handcuff me. Well, let me tell you, he just gets this shit-eating grin. He tosses my license back in the car and pulls me around to the trunk. He goes 'Assume the position!' and really frisks me over. I mean it took about ten or fifteen minutes, and I'm just dying from it."

"Then he stands me back up, and cuffs me behind my back. Then he turns me around and tells me he has to perform a strip search. Now last night I'm wearing this zippered halter top and a zippered skirt. He unzips the top and skirt and throws them in the car. Again, he has to feel me all over, including a 'body cavity search' which was real thorough. Then he whips out this really nice cock, lays me back over the trunk and just fucks the living shit out of me."

"Wow!" said Margaret. Jennifer was amazed.

"Yeah! Did me twice, too. Then he got this call, popped off the cuffs, and just roared off into the night. I'm still standing there bare ass naked in the road." Alexandra walked over to the hammocks and grabbed one of the glasses. Downing the contents, she poured herself a drink. "God, that tastes good. I'm too old for this driving cross country shit. My ass is dead!"

Jennifer and Margaret sat on the hammocks. Margaret moved over to let her sister sit, and patted the netting, to let her know she was welcome.

"I've been sitting for three days and nights now. I'll stand, thank you."

"You know, Jim really liked you in 'catch me, fuck me' clothes, too.," said Margaret.

"Yeah, I know.," said a smiling Alexandra. "I never did fully figure him out. I mean, most of the time he wanted me in really knockout outfits. But whenever we were driving somewhere alone, without you,," she said, looking at Jennifer, "he wanted me to be wearing nothing but heels, a real short skirt, and an open blouse. And it wasn't like we were speeding. And he'd never let me button the blouse when we got somewhere."

"I think he was showing off his trophy.," commented Margaret.

"Huh?"

"I mean, you know he loved you. But lookit. He takes you out somewhere, and every man around can see your tits and legs, right. And he's just smiling and saying to himself, 'You dumb fucks! I may be a short little potbellied bald guy, but I've got an eleven here who'd do me in a heartbeat, in public, if I said to. So, fuck you, clowns!'"

"Daddy wasn't potbellied!" protested Jennifer.

Alexandra looked down at her daughter and laughed. "No dear, he was just, how should we say it, well-marbled?" Turning back to Margaret, she said, "You think he thought of me as a trophy?"

"Sure, at least sometimes. I remember reading a few years ago that the number one status symbol among men wasn't money or a car or a fancy house or anything like that. The number one male status symbol is a beautiful young woman on their arm. Let's face it. With you he was certainly covered."

"Our marriage wasn't just his status. Don't be ludicrous."

"Of course not. I'd bet that he never traveled with you in your catch me, fuck me clothes around town. It was only when you were driving a good distance away, like private vacations or trips. Right?"

"Uh, okay. I guess so."

"He loved you to much to make you look slutty around home. That's where you wore silk and lace and chic, expensive shit. But on the road, hey, give the dumb bastards a good look at what they can't have, and just say fuck 'em."

"Well, I'm still not convinced. I think he was just horny. He used to drive with one hand up my skirt, and one finger up my twat. He'd drive me nuts. And he'd always be pulling off on some side road to fuck me."

"I seem to recall he'd do that around home, too.," said Margaret. Turning to Jennifer, she asked, "Remember how I told you how we'd trick your Dad?"

"You told her?!" shrieked Alexandra. Laughing, she asked, "What'd you tell her all our old tricks?"

Margaret ignored her sister. "One night, when I was visiting, we all went out to dinner. I sat in the back of the car, but I could tell that on the drive to the restaurant, your Pop's hand was up your mother's dress. She could hardly concentrate on the conversation. So, before we left, we switched clothes in the powder room. And I sat up front on the drive back. Jesus! As soon as we were out of the parking lot, his hand comes crawling across the seat. And since it's dark by now, it's not just hand under the dress anymore, the dress has to come up. I must of come three times before we got home."

"He never could tell us apart.," laughed Alexandra.

"So did you switch back in the house?" asked Jennifer.

"Never got the chance. It was so late, he just made us some coffee and took Maggie to our bedroom. We were never alone long enough to change. I'm just glad I kept a vibrator in the spare bedroom.," said Alexandra.

"It wasn't that bad!" protested Margaret. "After the first two fucks, I got up and went to check on Jenny. I sent you back to him."

"Hmmph.," snorted her sister. Alexandra poured out the last of the pitcher and downed it. "Oh, fuck it." She walked back to her car and reached in. First she pulled out several bags and tossed them at the laughing women. Then, pulling the key from the ignition, she popped the small trunk and repeated the process. Shortly, a small pile of luggage was scattered on the lawn. Margaret called Rocky out, who simply stared at the sight. The luggage didn't bother him, but he wasn't at all sure that he and Roger could handle Jennifer and two Margarets.

Looking around, Alexandra grabbed a small overnight bag and faced the others. "Listen. I need to shower and change. Then we all dress up in our catch me, fuck me clothes and drive into Vegas for some action. "Who's the bartender?" She marched into the house.

Jennifer thought this would be a fascinating vacation.