Unspoken Pleasure

I went upstairs and returned downstairs faster than Mom had, wearing my gray board shorts and nothing else. Jenna arrived a minute later, wearing a loose white T-shirt over her bikini bra and a beach towel around her hips. As soon as she entered the house, she un-tucked her beach towel and showed me the front of her small bikini panties–it was a red thong that just allowed the outermost sides of her fat labia to show.

She spun around, whipping her towel to her left side and showing off the thong running between the firm cheeks of her bubble butt. The nylon was thick enough to cover her crack and the inward sloping sides of her cheeks. It narrowed at her perineum, then widened against her pussy, holding her muff-meat so tightly that it outlined her every cunny fold. She reminded me of those Japanese massage videos where some perverted masseuse drips oil all over the pussy of the woman he was about to molest.

“That’s hot,” I said as Jenna spread her legs and bent over at the waist.

“Do you think your mother’s going to get mad?” she asked.

“Don’t know,” I said. “It’s a bikini, and she said to put on your bikini.”

“I know,” Jenna said, turning around. “She didn’t say a bathing suit, or one-piece–which she knows I have–she said, ‘Bikini.'”

“As long as we’re not fooling around.” I grabbed Jenna’s hand. “Let’s get outside before my mom comes down.” I pulled Jenna through the house. “Oh, and she’s going to chaperone us.”

“You’re kidding!”

I laughed as I led Jenna into our backyard.Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

By the time Mom had entered the backyard, we were already swimming. Jenna’s top matched her bottoms, a deep red bra that darkened as the water seeped into its fabric. The cups sat low-cut on her heavy breasts, leaving all but her nipples and areolas bare, and it wasn’t big enough to hide the sides of her ample tits, their perkiness keeping them high and tight to her curvy yet toned body.

“What do you think she’ll say about my top?” Jenna had asked me before my mother had entered the backyard.

“You are a bad girl,” I had said, standing arm’s length away from her in the rippling water, my gaze drifting from the naughty glimmer in her eyes to the rock-hard nubs capping her tits. They weren’t as long as Mom’s diamond cutters, but they were thicker, and my mouth watered as I thought about taking one of them into my mouth.

Our concern for my mother’s reaction to Jenna’s bikini faded away the moment we saw my mother. She was wearing a pair of sunglasses, had her lotion in one hand and her towel in the other, and was wearing something that could have been a bikini if companies made bikinis out of dental floss.

Attempting to cover my mother’s breasts were black strings with triangle cups that left three-quarters of her tits bare. The tiny bra strings wrapped around her sides, connecting in the back, and below her waist, she wore a pair of matching panties, with two nylon waistbands riding her hips while a tiny, triangular patch of cloth slid vertically down between her legs, cupping her inner lips and barely covering the inward folds of her outer lips–which left so much of her pussy meat bare. Half of her bright, blonde landing strip lay above the low-slung waistline of her bikini panties, and Jenna’s eyes widened at the sight of those sunlight pubes.

“You two go ahead and cool off,” Mom said as she sat in a lounge chair to the right of the pool. “I’m going to enjoy the sun.” She set her towel down. “Behave yourselves.”

Mom uncapped her lotion and poured some into her right palm. She rubbed her palms together, then rubbed the lotion into her skin, starting with her arms and shoulders, and then her chest, stomach, and breasts, her fingers cupping the exposed portions of her tits with a soft caress. Mom did her thighs next, opening her legs and running her hands between them, from her ankles to the sides of her pussy and up to her hips, pulling the strings of her waistband outward and slipping her fingers beneath them, seeming to pay extra attention to lotioning her entire body.

Holy snatch attack, Batman, I thought, the sound of my voice a whisper between my ears.

“Jesus,” Jenna said when Mom stood and did her backside, though she stood facing us. “Is she trying to make us uncomfortable?”

I shrugged, grabbed Jenna’s hips, and turned her sideways to Mom; then I looked to my right, where Mom lay with her legs spread and the swells of her pussy pressing against her G-string. The exposed portions of her labia flowed into her thighs with a natural beauty.

“I don’t know, but it’s working,” I said, shrugging again. “We better behave ourselves.”

Jenna growled.

I offered her a soft smile and dove sideways into the water. Our swimming lasted about five minutes before Jenna said, “Let’s get some sun. Do you think your mom will let you rub some lotion on me?”

“Let’s ask,” I said. “Mom, can I rub lotion on Jenna, or is that something we can’t do?”

“As long as you behave yourselves, you can do whatever you wish,” Mom said. “Just remember not to cross any lines that you shouldn’t.”

“What lines are those?” I asked, stepping in front of Jenna so she couldn’t see me smiling at my mother.

Mom tilted her head upward to look at us, though her tinted glasses hid which one of us she had focused her attention on. I guessed Mom was looking at Jenna when she said, “Anywhere not covered by Jenna’s bikini is okay with me.” She laid her head back down.

Jenna looked at me, widening her eyes and making an, oh, really, face, then she smiled and headed for the steps. As her thong-covered butt broke the water’s surface, my cock tingled, the head swelling as a ring of pleasure encircled the corona. I looked at Mom, who lay with a slight spread to her glistening legs, her pussy lips kissing the then fabric of her panties from beneath, and I wondered what I had done to deserve this break from Mr. Mason’s decree.

You still can’t do anything with her, I thought, and maybe so, but anywhere without a bikini? There was a lot of anywhere on Jenna’s body at the moment.

Jenna grabbed a towel and dried her body off. I pushed myself out of the water at the side of the pool, grabbed my towel, and dried off as well. As Jenna lay in a lounge chair next to Mom, I grabbed Mom’s oil–the same oil I had used on her a few days ago–and I sat on the side of Jenna’s chair as she lay down on her stomach, using her towel as a pillow.

“Don’t let Jenna burn,” Mom said in a soft voice, followed by a softer yawn. “Make sure you rub the oil deep into Jenna’s skin. Take your time. I’m going to have a nap. Wake me in ten minutes and remember: Behave.”

Jenna’s cheeks flushed red, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she raised both eyebrows at me while pressing her lips together in an odd, embarrassed smile. I almost said, “Oh, behave,” but decided not to ruin the opportunity with a stupid Austin Powers line. My mother would have been around eighteen when that movie came out, probably necking with my father and getting felt up in the movie theater beneath the projector.

I pulled my thoughts back to the present as I poured a handful of lotion into my left palm. More memories of Japanese massage porn came to me, and I thought back on the times that I had massaged Jenna in her room while she watched one of those videos on her phone.