Phillip Milner: Her mother_s lover

"I think you're grownup enough to come to the party tonight," Minna said looking appraisingly at her daughter. "It's just going to be some of father's business friends, and mine too, nothing big."

"That's right," her father chimed in, "and if you need a dress you can use the family charge account at Saks or Altman's as usual."

"Oh Mother," Charisse said happily, "that sounds just too groovy, but I guess I'm going to surprise both of you… I mean I'm still so tired for some reason, I'd just as soon pass up the party and get to bed early!"

"All right, dear," her mother said with a rather surprised look. "But I do want you to get out today and get some fresh air, you look a little pale to me."

"I intend to, Mother. I'm going to take a long walk in the park, say hello to my favorite seals in the zoo, and just read on a bench until it's time for dinner."

"I wish I didn't have that concert to rehearse for – I'd keep you company darling. It sounds like a lovely, lazy sort of day that I haven't had for ages."

Charisse spent the day in Central Park, as she had planned. She departed from her plans in one respect. She went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and viewed again their wonderful sculptures – her favorite still being the nude Venus Aphrodite, rising from the surf in all her feminine glory. She wondered why the statues of the naked Goddesses held her interest so much more than the statues of the naked men, which after all showed every detail of the male sexual organs.

When she came home, she could hear her mother talking to someone on the phone. Carefully lifting the extension phone in the kitchen, she listened. Her mother was talking to a man with a deep virile voice, someone who was a stranger to Charisse.

She heard her say, "There's this damned party of Charlie's tonight… but maybe we'll be able to see each other anyway if I can get out of the house with some kind of an excuse…"

"That would be wonderful, darling. But if you can't make it, we'll see each other tomorrow night at my place."

"That's a date, dear," Minna laughed in her rich contralto and then hung up.

Charisse replaced the receiver and thought to herself why Minna should he making evening dates with the possessor of the virile baritone voice. Could there possibly have been anything to those monstrous articles in the scrap-books? Well, it was probably a business appointment, even if it all did sound very sexy. It was out of the question to Charisse that her adored mother would seriously play around with, or give her body to a mere man…

She took a shower which had the effect of stimulating and refreshing her body to the point where she felt ready to take on anything. Going into the kitchen, she fixed herself a salad and some milk and cake and took it up to her bedroom, determined to just listen to some good music and then go to sleep early.

But sleep was out of the question for her as she began to hear the slamming of doors and the bustling noises of the evening's party guests arriving. There really weren't more than seven or eight people at the party, but as the drinks began to take effect they were soon making enough noise for a regiment. Wondering what was really causing all the commotion, Charisse opened the door of her bedroom a bit and peeked out.

There was the usual drinking, small talk and boozy laughter going on in the living-room. Everyone had already had dinner. Her mother was in the hallway, diagonally across from her bedroom, talking to Jack Lennard, a mature, rather thickset sort of man. He had been a friend of the Mantells for years and Charisse remembered him with feelings of distaste.

For one thing, ever since she had been thirteen, he had always been feeling her up whenever he visited the house. He would put his hand on her asscheeks and sensuously slide it up and down, his palms or his elbows were always sort of moving up and down over her budding titties. He made it all seem like some kind of accident, but Charisse knew that he really meant it. If he had the nerve to boldly feel her sex organs the way he did when her father and mother were in the apartment, she wondered what would happen if they were out. She was glad that he had never happened upon her when she was alone in the apartment. She felt he would have raped her without the slightest hesitation. She really didn't care much about Jack Lennard.

She felt the same way about his wife Cora Lennard, who was an attractive brunette of about thirty-five with a voluptuous well-preserved body. Her face was always faultlessly made up, even if it was a bit too heavy on the mascara and lipstick. What Charisse disliked about Cora was her constant air of supercilious sophistication and snobbishness. She affected a kind of super-cool which she let you know in a subtle way that nothing could break down.

Her mother and Cora were deep in conversation in the hallway near her bedroom. As she strained to catch some of their "woman-talk" she was surprised to see Cora press against her mother's body. One of her hands descended to Minna's lush asscheek and fondled it, while the other was actually grasping one of her mother's breasts – and squeezing it! Her mother surprised her by covering Cora's hand on her breast with her own, and smilingly removing Cora's hand from her ass, she whispered something to her. Cora's wide mouth opened wider, her red lips emphasizing her big white teeth. Amazed, Charisse watched her mother lead Cora into her bedroom. Her curiosity overcoming her surprise, Charisse tiptoed to the door of her mother's bedroom. The door was closed, but light was streaming through the large keyhole of the door. Charisse knew from secretly watching her mother undress and give herself beauty treatments before retiring that the keyhole afforded a complete view of the room if a light was on. There was a moment of guilty hesitation for her, and then she gasped as she placed her eye to the keyhole. Maybe all those gossip columns and nasty remarks had something to them! Maybe where there was so much smoke there was also a little fire!

She tried hard to understand what she was seeing and even hearing through the door. There was her mother lying back on the bed, her expensive silk evening dress with its skirt tucked up to her waist. Her beautiful legs were clad in sheer nylons, but she was wearing no girdle, the stockings were rolled. And she was wearing no panties either! The sight of her mother's alabaster white hips, her exposed reddish bush hair and moist, pink cuntlips shocked her.

Hypnotized by the unusual sight she heard her mother laugh and say, "You'll have to make this one a quickie, Cora darling. If we stay up here too long, they'll miss us both in the living room!"

"You know I'm an artist and don't like to be rushed, Minna. Is Mr. Dildo still in your third dresser drawer, under you slips?"

Apparently it was, because she saw Cora go to the drawer and take out a peculiar looking harness – it looked just like a garter-belt with a huge red knockwurst hanging from it. She saw Cora lift up her dress, remove it and after taking off her slip and panties, she strapped on the object she had called Mr. Dildo. Now Charisse recognized it for what it was, a huge imitation red rubber male sex-organ, complete down to the two testicles dangling from it.

"Take off your bra, Minna," she heard Cora say, breathing heavily. "You know I like to feel them!"

As her mother removed her bra, she saw her lush white tits and their huge pinkly erect nipples completely exposed to Cora's questing hands. Cora began to knead them and she could see her mother's nipples stiffening and erecting under the kneading and caressing of her titties. She saw her mother spread her legs, her mouth forming an anguished invitation. Cora leaned forward between her mother's legs and with a grunt of triumph she shoved the dildo completely up into Minna's moist vagina.