F2: We Gotta Stop Mom!

"Not so big," I said. "The average is around six, right? So I'm only a couple of inches longer."

"And twice as thick." She released the tape, stroking my cock firmly once, from base to tip. "Messy boy," she teased, as I started to leak from the end.

"We done now?" I pleaded, trying to stifle any moans.

"Not quite yet. Need to see how big around you are." Tiffany stretched the tape around the middle, getting even closer to read it. That pretty face, inches from my cock, full tits, hanging down, rose colored nipples poking out. Damn.

"Six and a half. I don't know what the average is, but I know it's a lot less than that. Jesus, bro, 6.4 divided by 3.14... that makes you over 2" across." She wrapped her fingers around the shaft, and moved them up and down slowly. She giggled. "Little 'big' bro's sportin' a 2x8 in his pants. Impressive." Her hand gave a little squeeze, and continued its travels

"Stop," I gasped. "You have to stop now."

She smiled mischievously, thrusting her chest out. "Stop this? Why?" she asked, her hand moving just a little faster.

I groaned, thrusting back against her hand, trying to hang on.

"Still want me to stop, 'big' brother?" she teased.

I shook my head, my hand reaching out to touch her.

"Say it. Tell me what you want me to do."

I groaned when her hands stopped moving. "More," I pleaded softly.

She inched closer to me, her leg pressing against mine. I put my hand on her soft thigh. So smooth and soft. Her hands moved a little faster, and I was a goner.

"Gonna..."

"...come for me?" she asked, her voice filled with excitement.

"Uhhn," I moaned, and erupted, shooting high into the air, two large and messy volleys, followed by a few more that didn't do much more than clear the head, and spill over her hand.

She was giggling, her head leaning against my shoulder, while her hand milked me dry.

When I was done, I was surprised by a little kiss on my neck. "How do you usually clean up?" she asked.

"Paper towels, under the bed," I sighed, leaning back against the headboard.

She climbed off of me, one hand cupped under the other to catch any mess, and was soon wiping her hands dry. When she was done with that task, she pulled off several sheets, and started cleaning me up. She chuckled as my cock twitched and started to expand.

"Naughty boy. Coming all over me like that. Looks like he wants to go again."

She dumped the messy paper towels in the trash, and left the bedroom again, returning a short time later with a wet washcloth, which she used on both of us. "Didn't know you'd make that big a mess," she said quietly, washing my now very hard erection.

"Don't usually," I confessed, embarrassed.

"That was because of me?" she teased.

I reached out and gave her tit a squeeze. "You know it, trouble-maker."

She pouted. "You're not mad at me, are you?"

I pulled her close, hugging her. "You know I can never stay mad at you, Tiff."

She hugged me back. "I didn't mean to take it that far. Sorry, I... I got carried away."

"It's Ok."

Her eyes bugged out in surprise, when I tilted up her chin and kissed her on the lips. "We used to be so close. What happened?" I asked.

"I don't know," she whispered. "We lost each other. Me with all my friends, and you, always self-sufficient, nose in the books."

I kissed her again, and she responded, her mouth opening, her tongue tracing my lips and teeth, parting them, reaching into my mouth. I remembered my first real kiss with her. Seventh grade. When we would practice with each other. When she pulled away, she rested her head on my shoulder, next to mine. "We're going to have to work on that. You're a lousy kisser, Bret."

"Sorry. I've never had much opportunity to practice."

"None?"

"Not really. Not like that one."

I grabbed her leg and lifted, pulling her sideways, onto my lap, straddling me. She shifted forward, until her warm crotch was pressed against my hard-on. Little pink swath of cloth all that separated us. "I want my twin back," I told her.

"I never went anywhere," she whispered, kissing my chin.

My hands caressed her back, as she leaned against me. "You better go soon, or I won't be responsible for my actions."

She gave me a little nip on the shoulder with her teeth. "Perving on me again?"

"Still," I told her.

She giggled, pressed her lips to mine quickly, then climbed off. "I'm going to put Mom's phone back and get some sleep. We'll talk again tomorrow night, alright?"

I nodded. "I'm going to read the emails for a while longer. We can decide on a plan tomorrow night. Think about it between now and then, Ok?"

She pulled her shirt back on, casually, adjusting it. "Thanks for believing me, and doing all the work here."

"No problem. I have as much vested in this as you do."

"Good night, big bro."

"Night, big sis."

* * * *

The next day I was in a fog. Thinking about Tiffany, and what had happened. What it meant, if anything. About what Mom was up to, and what we could do about it. What would happen if we failed. Thank God I had no serious work to do that day. That's the last thing I needed. I already had my Merit Scholarship, and had to choose where to use it. Letting the grades slip at the last moment wasn't in the cards. Valedictorian, baby. Number one. I'd sacrificed my high-school social life to ensure that. I wasn't about to screw it up now. Not for anything.

I'd been trying to play it cool, but Mom noticed something was wrong.

"What's wrong, Bret? Did I forget to bathe today?" she asked, as I moved past her in the kitchen, avoiding contact.

"What?"

"No hug, no 'How's it going,' no talk about your school day. No nothin'."

I gave her a quick hug, wondering if "Greg" had beaten me to it that day. "Just distracted, I guess. Loads of school work."

"Mmmm, that's better," she said smiling, when I released her.

She was dressed nicer again. I decide to start pushing a little. "You look really good. You and Dad going out somewhere special?"

I could tell she was surprised. "N...No, I thought it would be nice to dress up a little more. Don't you like it?"

I nodded. "All the guys do. Believe me, they noticed. You're becoming the number one MILF, from the sounds of things."

She turned red. She definitely knew what a MILF was. "They said that?"

"Sure. Always dressing up like you're going out on the town, nice makeup, new hairdos, sexy clothing. You trying to spark up the marriage?" I didn't wait for an answer, taking my snack and heading for my bedroom. I leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Dad's a lucky guy, married to a hottie."

In the bedroom, I was curious, because of her outfit. I checked the camera pics, and sure enough, she'd come home from her work around 1:00, and at 1:36 that afternoon, she'd gone out in her outfit, and hadn't returned until 3:52, only a few minutes before I got home. I doubted she was with him the whole time. He certainly didn't look like the kind of guy who could go for 2 hours, but then again, what did I know? Probably did some shopping. She had bags she brought in when she returned. I couldn't make them out on the pictures. Wish I could afford a better camera.

A quick perusal of her email, showed nothing new, to or from the Fat Bastard.

I realized I needed to know more about the guy, and started investigating.

Tiffany walked into my room, casual as can be, and flopped down on the bed. "Any news?"

"Nothing firm. I think she met him for a late lunch. She went out for a few hours, dressed up. No emails," I explained.

"I hope it wasn't funch," Tiffany said.

"Funch?"

"What? A word 'Mr. Vocabulary' doesn't know?"

"It's not a word. Definitely not in the Scrabble dictionary."

She rolled her eyes at me. "Funch. Fucking plus lunch. Funch. Jesus, we gotta get you a life."

"Got one, thanks. One that'll pay off in the long run," I smirked. Remembering our truce, I continued. "We'll have to wait 'til tonight to get her phone. She was on it when I got home, and walked out to the back porch, practically whispering."

I told her about what I'd done, the comments about Mom's outfit. Tiffany grinned. "Hopefully that got her thinking, and not in the wrong way. Don't need to come home to see her getting gang-banged by your nerd friends."

I ignored the slam. Truce. "What do you think we should do?" I asked.

"I'm thinking we keep monitoring her, do what we can to make her nervous, and start interfering where we can. Maybe with enough guilt and fear of getting caught, she'll kill it before it goes too far."

"I'm thinking the same, plus I want to find out everything I can about Fat Bastard."

Tiffany giggled. "Fat Bastard is right. Jesus, what does she see in the ugly fat fuck? I don't get it."

"Me either," I agreed.

"So we don't confront her?" Tiffany asked.

"With what? Suspicions? Some emails and text messages that will tell her we're spying on her? I don't think so. Not yet at least."

She nodded. "Going out. I'll be back for dinner. See you tonight," she said. She acted as if nothing had happened between us the night before.

"Later," I replied, trying to keep it cool.

I finished my schoolwork and worked on the GPS situation. Couldn't find anything free, but for about $4.00 a month, I found a program on Google Play that would monitor the GPS, track SMS and call logs, and a bunch of other stuff. Now if only I had a credit card.

Rather than try anything crazy, I thought I'd be just a little sneaky.

Mom was making dinner, and Dad had gotten home, and was parked in front of the TV, already dressed down for the evening. Mom was still dolled up, and I started to wonder how Dad couldn't notice. I had a sudden surge of fear. What if he had noticed? What if he was doing what we were? I had a sudden urge to research Dad as well.

I hunted down Mom.

"Mom?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Could I get a prepaid credit card? I could use it to pay for my tests and college applications, without bothering you guys all the time."

"You know you can have my card, whenever you need it," she said absentmindedly.

"I know, but I thought it would be good to start learning how to use one, budgeting, tracking my expenses, all that stuff. I'm going to need one when I go to college."

"I don't have a problem with it. Why don't you ask your father? If he's Ok, I think that would be great."

Damn, the old 'if your mother/father doesn't mind' ploy.

I planted myself next to Dad, and during the commercial I gave him the same pitch.

"I can just put you on my account," he said, thinking it over.

"I know, but then I won't be responsible for my own bills."

"How much would you need?"

"Each college app, including sending SAT and AP scores looks like it averages just under $100. CLEP tests are about the same, a hundred bucks."

"How many you plan on applying for?" he asked.

"Maybe half-a-dozen colleges, and four CLEPs that I know of."

He whistled. "A thousand dollars?"

"It will let me skip four classes. With my AP courses, that's close to a year and a half of college saved."

"You starting, soon?"

"In the next few weeks. A prepaid card is reloadable, so I can start with just enough to get going, and add to it as needed."

"Let me look into it. When do you need it?"

"As soon as possible. I was hoping to start some of the applications this weekend."

He seemed surprised by that. "Really? We haven't talked about it."

"The school adviser thinks I can go to a lot of schools free. I want to start checking on that."

Dad laughed. "Free would be good. Think you can get a free ride for your sister?"

"I can only work small miracles, Dad. That's beyond me."

"Alright. I'll see what I can do."

* * * *

On the ninth stroke of midnight I was getting anxious before Tiffany showed up again. She was already scrolling through Mom's text messages. "Miss me, bro?"

"You even miss a headache when it's gone," I teased.

She stuck her tongue out at me, and hopped on the bed next to me. "Bingo. You were right. Lunch with Fat Bastard."

"Messages?"

"Before and after. Confirming their plans, and then revisiting all the kissy-face and fondling afterward. Mom's such a slut."

"How bad?"

"Bad, but not horrible. Listen to this: 'Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to tear off your shirt, seeing your nipples hard like that? No bra? You can be such a tease.'"

"That's not too bad," I said.

"Oh yeah? 'You were a beast! I told you no marks. How am I supposed to explain a hickey on my boob?'"

"I got an email. She says that she'll meet him on Monday at 6:00. Wonder what kind of excuse she'll give Dad?"

"I don't know. Want to mess it up for her?"

"How?"

"I don't know. Shouldn't be too hard. Commit her to something she doesn't know about until either Sunday or Monday. You're the guy with the big brain, you can figure it out."

"Alright. At least we have a little time. I should have the GPS locator on her phone this weekend with any luck. I want to review all her old emails, see what I can find out about Fat Bastard, as well as when and how this started."

She finished scanning the phone. "Three calls with him today. He called twice, she called once. One was more than 30 minutes long."

"Wish I knew what they were saying, but that's a lot more difficult. Expensive from what I've been researching."

She put the phone aside, and moved close to me, her arm around my waist. "I've been thinking..."

"Mmmhmm?"

"You're right. I want my twin back too. Sorry I've been such a pain for so long. Forgive me?"

"Of course."

"You gonna be reading those emails long?"

"Tiffany..."

She giggled. "C'mon, you know you loved it."

"We shouldn't be doing this. You know that."

"Just fooling around a little. I have to see it. See if I can make it shoot like that again. We can be more careful about making a mess." She tickled my ribs. "Besides, you need some serious training in the kissing department."

Truth was, I'd been hoping for a repeat. "Nothing crazy, Ok?"

She grinned, then pulled my head down for a quick kiss. "I promise. Now get undressed for me."

I put the laptop away, and stripped off my sleeping shorts and t-shirt. Tiffany took off her shirt, and she was naked, except for those same pink panties. She started peeling them off.

"Tiff, you promised."

"Loosen up, Bret. It's not like you haven't seen it before. We're not going to fuck. I just figured if you're naked, I should be as well."

"Leave the panties on. They're cute," I said, hoping the little added comment would mollify her. It worked.

She grinned, tugging at them. "You like? Makes me seem almost innocent, doesn't it?"

"Except for that amazing body. Kind of blows the innocent thing all out of the water." I reached down and teasingly pulled at the waistband. "Aren't these kind of ripe, sis? I've seen the same ones for three days."

She stuck her tongue out at me. "I don't think so. Most of mine are the same. I like these. Why should I wear a different style?"

"You shouldn't. Trust me," I teased.

She climbed in my lap, arms and legs around me. "Kissing 101, to start."

Best class I ever took. She taught me what she liked, and by the time I noticed the clock it was after 1:00 and I'd been achingly hard for at least half an hour.

"Alright. Getting better. You were always a quick learner. Now just lay back and let me play with my new toy for a while."

She'd been stroking my cock for a few minutes when she asked me if I ever used lotion. I didn't, I confessed, and I lost her for a couple of minutes before she returned with a bottle of moisturizer. Brazen girl, running around the house nearly naked. The lotion felt heavenly and after only a few minutes, she had me ready to shoot.

"Getting close," I warned her.

"Good."

She rested her head on my hip, getting a good close look, while her hand repeated the tantalizing motion up and down my shaft. She pressed her lips against my skin, and looked up at me. "Come for me?"

"Uh-huh," I moaned softly, and bit my lip as she got her wish.

She was more careful with the outcome, leaving the mess on my chest and belly. She pulled out the paper towels, and cleaned me up.

"Did you like that?" she teased.

"You know I did."

"Kissing refresher?"

I pulled her up, and took my exam. She was half lying on me, her leg between mine, moving sinuously. She nibbled my ear. "My turn?" she whispered.

My hands had been caressing her skin, gently brushing her chest. I rolled her onto her back, and explored her breasts, squeezing, licking, kissing.

"You can be a little rougher. I don't mind."

I sucked her nipples powerfully, seeing how much of her tit I could fit in my mouth. Bit down a little to feel her squirm. "How big are they?" I asked.

She giggled. "It that all you guys think about? I'm a solid C-cup."

I slowly moved my hand down between her legs, wondering if she'd stop me. She opened them wide. "Gentler down there, at least to start. Touch me, Bret."

It was incredibly exciting, sliding my fingers inside her panties, feeling the satiny soft flesh inside of her, the moistness bathing my fingers. I was pumping them in and out of her, feeling how deeply I could reach.

"Not too much fingering," she whispered. "Touch all around. You might want to rub the top area a little."

"Your clit?"

"Yeah, not too hard on it. I get real sensitive."

For several minutes, my mouth enjoyed her tits, while my fingers played below.

She was started to squirm a little pressing back against me. "Kiss me," she pleaded.

Her tongue was in my mouth, brushing against mine, when her mouth opened and I felt the gasp that preceded her coming for me.

She nibbled my bottom lip. "You're much better at that. Thanks."

In that moment, I realized how much time we'd lost. I rolled onto my back, pulling her with me, until she was lying on my chest. I kissed her a while, my hands exploring her backside.

"You know I love you, right?" I told her.

She nodded, her lips leaving a trail of kisses across my face. "I know. Me too." She grinned. "No need to get sappy about it."

"Brat."

She giggled. "I'm going to do you again. Let's see if we can make it last a while. We need to teach you some staying power."

I did a little better. About 7 minutes according to the clock. She was pleased with that, as she cleaned me up the second time. "Better. When you can last 10 minutes, we'll see if we can't up the ante."

I didn't ask her what that meant.

Once she'd departed, I knew I needed more analysis. I connected Mom's phone to my laptop, and downloaded all her texts. Tiffany had been reading them, and it's not that I didn't trust her, but her thinking was pretty straightforward. I wanted to see if I could get anything else out of the messages.

I could still smell her on the pillow next to me, as I went to sleep, ridiculously content, considering Mom might be in the middle of blowing up the family.

* * * *

The analysis was worthwhile. I was jotting down the essentials, when Tiffany the Magnificent came bouncing into my bedroom. She bounded onto the bed. "What's up?" she asked. "You never, ever, come out of your cave anymore. Someone's going to get suspicious."

"I think I got it," I said.

"Got what?"

"Why she's doing it."

"No shit?" She leaned against me, looking at the computer screen. "Those are her texts," she said.

"Yeah. It's sneaky. There's hints, but he doesn't come out and say it. Not in writing." I flipped to the second tab. "More important, we didn't look at Aunt Tina's texts."

"Aunt Tina? Why?"

"She knows all about it, and I think she knows why."

"So you gonna keep being a dick, or you gonna tell me?"

"Being a 'dick'? I spent three hours reviewing this, and I'm still not finished."

"Big brainy dick." She giggled. "And I meant that in the nicest way. Now spill."