F2: We Gotta Stop Mom!

"He's given her two raises. He's paying her for almost full-time work, when she really puts in 4-5 hours a day. Promising her one of the jobs when her co-worker retires in the next six months."

"So she's a whore. He pays her, she screws around."

"Not so far. He wants her bad. She laughs about it with Aunt Tina. She was just leading him on, but now she's feeling a little guilty, and considering paying him off. It sounds like the full-time job offer was the kicker he needed to land her."

"A whore in training. Slut-Mom," Tiffany said

"It's more than that. She was feeling," I looked up the text, "unappreciated, unloved, and unfulfilled."

Tiffany sat back, leaning against the headboard. She was wearing a skirt, and I leaned over and lifted the end, peeking.

"Bret!" she whined, slapping the material down.

"Just checking. Wanted to see if you'd changed the panties yet."

She stuck her tongue out at me. "Stop. Save it for later. This is serious."

"I know. I think she's close to doing it."

"She can't! We gotta stop her."

"Won't do much good if we do. If she's feeling like she is, anyone paying her enough attention would probably get to her."

"This sucks! What are we gonna do?" She cuddled up to me. "I bet you have some idea, don't you brainy bro?"

"Not yet. I'm still gathering info. Let me work on it."

"Tonight?" she whispered, her breath warm against my ear.

"Sure," I said, trying to act nonchalant.

She gave me a peck on the cheek. "You're not fooling me. You're looking forward to my visit even more than I am, and you know it."

I didn't answer. I didn't need to. We both knew she was right as rain.

The beginning of a plan was starting to form, an hour later. I shut everything down, and searched out Mom. The least I could do was work on her feelings.

She was in the laundry room, unloading the dryer. Dressed nicely again, wearing a skirt that was a little short for public, she was bent over at the waist, and I saw the tops of stockings. Not pantyhose, but stockings. I slid my arm around her waist. "Let me help you Mom."

She was startled, but smiled for me. "So you are alive."

I lifted the clothes basket on top of the dryer, turned and gave her a big hug. She looked surprise, but was grinning. "What was that for?"

"Because I love you, and don't tell you often enough what a great Mom you are. I appreciate everything you do, to make this family what it is. I know it must be a pain. Cooking, cleaning, and working."

She blushed, since I was still holding her. "We all share chores," she said. "Your father helps a lot."

"You need to offload some of this to Tiff and me. Make a little time for yourself. You and Dad both work too hard. Live a little, Mom!" I gave her a little shake.

"I don't know what's gotten into you," she laughed.

"Nothing. I just look at the families of my friends. Houses without love. Broken families. Parents working on their third marriages. And I think about what we have here, two parents who love each other, and love us. I'm so lucky. I wouldn't trade places with anybody."

"Well, I'm pretty lucky too. Such wonderful children." She had stopped leaning away from me, and let me pull her close. Her arms slid around my waist, her head pressed against my chest.

I kissed her cheek. "I got this. Go relax. Kick your shoes off. You deserve it."

She gave me a squeeze. "What did I ever do to deserve such a wonderful boy?" she whispered.

"The question is, what did I ever do to deserve the best, most loving, and hottest Mom in world."

She giggled. "I'm not 'hot' Bret."

"That's not what the guys are saying."

She raised one eyebrow, smirking. "And just what are the 'guys' saying?"

"MILFilicious. Eye-candy. Sexiest Mom in town. Cougar dream."

I still hadn't let her go. Her hands were resting against my chest, but from the waist down, we were still pressed together. She looked up at me, curious. "Cougar dream?"

"You know. Cougars. Mature women who date younger men. You're the fantasy. I think some of them would hit on you, if it wasn't so obvious how in love with Dad you are, and that you could never cheat on him. They get too crazy, I straighten them out."

"Crazy? How?"

"Crazy talk. Dirty talk. I won't let them talk about you like that. Dressing nice doesn't mean anything. You've got a great body, it makes sense you'd want to show it off a little. Doesn't make you a slut or on the prowl."

"They... they say things like that?"

"They're just jealous that their Mom's don't look or dress like you do. None of them." I let her go. "Go on. Get out of those sexy work clothes, and relax. I'll finish in here."

Mom nodded, and started to walk away. I saw one more opportunity to poke at her. Sexy little red lace panties. I lifted them. "Hey Mom, maybe you should talk to Tiffany. She's getting pretty wild. I mean, seriously? Panties like these? A little over the top aren't they?"

She turned red. "They're not that bad, Bret."

"You're kidding, right? She's advertising. Everyone's going to think she's a slut."

"I... I'll talk to her," Mom mumbled.

In the load of delicates were four different pair of pink bikini panties, and two more pair of racy, lacy, naughty ones. I was certain I knew which belonged to whom. Thank God for Tiffany paying attention to what was going on. I only hoped we weren't too late.

After dinner, Dad gave me a credit card. "Use it wisely. I'm going to trust you not to be wasteful. It's got a $1000 limit, prepaid."

I was a little surprised at the rapid response. Tiffany was watching and had a cow. "A credit card? How come he gets a credit card!"

"It's for his college applications, Sugar," Dad reassured her.

"What about mine?" she whined.

Dad gave her a knowing look. "You're thinking of going to college?"

She blushed. "Of course! Why not?"

"Did you even take your SATs? What about your grades? Where did you have in mind?" Dad asked.

"I figured wherever. Maybe UT, it's not like there's any rush is there?"

Dad looked over at me.

"Tiff, early admission has already ended for a lot of schools. I'd say that for about a third of them, and most of the better ones, the application deadline for fall admittance is January first. That's less than five weeks away. The last SAT test date this year is December 7th, and registration for that one is already closed."

She looked confused. "Some schools are later than January 1st, aren't they?"

I nodded. "A lot of them. I'll be honest. I thought you were going the Community College route. You never talk about university. You should have been taking your SATs long ago. It took me five tries to get my 2400."

"What about the ACT?" she asked.

"Test registration for the December test was November 22nd," I explained. A week ago.

"I... I can't believe none of you told me!" she whined. "Like I don't matter. Only Bret. Smart Bret, special Bret! It's not fair!" she finally screamed, marching out of the room.

I felt bad for her. She was right. Our parents never pressed either of us very hard. I worked at school because I wanted too. Somebody should have been lighting a fire under my sister's butt about six months earlier.

Mom and Dad were looking at each other with concern.

"I'll talk to her. I know what's going on. I'll take care of it. If she wants to go to college it's not a problem, is it?"

Dad shook his head. "No, we'll manage somehow. I don't know about a $50K a year private school, but we'll figure out something."

"Good. Let me deal with it."

Mom looked worried. "You can help her, Bret?"

"Yeah. I painted a pretty bleak picture. Lots of schools have later admission, rolling admissions, that kind of stuff. Worse comes to worse, we can get her into the community college, and fix her grades and test scores before working on a four year plan."

I knocked on her door, and opened it when she didn't answer. She glared at me. "Here to rub it in, Mr. Perfect?"

I closed the door and sat on the bed beside her. "How come you never said anything about college, Tiff?"

She pouted. "What, I'm too stupid for college now?"

"I never said that. Hell, you're as smart as me, you just don't apply yourself. You could get in anywhere you wanted, with a little effort."

"So it's too late now, I guess."

It wasn't. We talked. Talked about her future for the first time. What time constraints we were working with, what courses she'd need, the tests she'd need to take in January, what she wanted to do, all the stuff that should have been discussed a year earlier.

A week earlier, I might not have even cared. How sad is that? Now, after our time together, I wanted, no, needed to help her.

"Give me a few days to figure it out, Ok? We'll talk then, and I'll see what the best choices are."

"Can we even afford it?" she asked softly.

"Dad says yes. Heck, I'm probably going free wherever I choose. As long as you don't choose somewhere like SMU or Rice, we can probably swing it."

"You think so?"

"Pretty sure. We'll work it out, alright?"

She nodded, the tears she'd shed earlier all gone. That had surprised me. Tiffany was tough, rarely cried. "I gotta finish up some school work. See you later?"

She smiled. "You know it. We still have the big issue to deal with."

* * * *

The clock started striking, and I looked up from my laptop in anticipation. More news, I don't know how good it was.

The clock chimes were becoming Pavlovian. I felt myself hardening at the idea of my sister joining me. Sure enough, before it had finished striking, she was slipping in the door, closing it behind her. She had Mom's phone in hand again, and was undressing before the clock stopped. She looked up at me with a teasing grin, thumbs hooking in the sides of those teasing pink panties. Tugging at them, giving me a questioning look.

I shook my head and she pouted, crawling into the bed beside me. "News?" she asked, while her hand slipped under the covers, sliding up my thigh, coming to rest on my erection. She grinned mischievously.

"Plenty. Went through her other emails, text messages. Aunt Tina's trouble. She's encouraging Mom. Apparently she had her own little fling last year, and Mom knows about it. She's not the only one either. Mrs. Ellis is in on it."

Tiffany stroked me softly. "Shit. Are all these women crazy? I can't believe Uncle Tim would put up with Aunt Tina cheating. And Mrs. Ellis? It's hard to believe she even could cheat! I mean, seriously, who would want to, with her?"

I sighed, enjoying the stroking. "Not much new news, other than that," I said. "Text from the Fat Bastard, confirming Monday at 6:00. Wants to meet at the restaurant in the Marriott. That's not good."

She pushed my laptop out of the way, and pulled the covers aside, scooting down to get a better look at my cock as she stroked it. "That really sucks. What's your plan for stopping her on Monday?"

"No... plan," I said, getting distracted.

She hopped up and gave me a quick peck on the lips. Climbed across me, lying down and leaning over the edge of the bed. I couldn't resist fondling her cute butt cheeks, before she came up with the roll of paper towels. She unrolled a few sheets, folded them, and laid them across my belly. "Let's keep it neat."

She stroked my cock steadily, aimed up my body, and move upward, until we were face to face. "Wanna practice kissing?" she teased.

"W... While you're doin' that?" I gasped.

She nodded, and her lips descended on mine. She kissed me, and after a few seconds, bit my lips. "Pay attention, Bret! Kiss me back, and make it good, or I'm stopping."

She started up again, and I did my best to remember what we'd gone over before. It was kinda good, concentrating on kissing her, it distracted me a little from what her hand was doing. Not enough, and after a few minutes I was groaning in her mouth.

She pulled back, her lips a scant inch from mine. "Come for me, bro."

She got her wish, and I breathed again, as she folded up the paper towel, wiping the head of my cock clean, and crumpled it up, tossing it toward the garbage can by my desk. She grinned. "Not bad. You lasted pretty long, the kissing is better, and hardly any hassle cleaning up."

She rolled over and lay on top of me, her beautiful breasts pressing against my chest. "You really gonna help me with the college thing?" she asked softly, resting her head on my shoulder.

My hands were wandering rather freely, and found themselves in her panties, rubbing her butt. "You're my sis, Tiffany. Even when we were at our worst, you must know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

She sighed. "I know." Her lips pressed against my neck. "You know I feel the same, right? You may piss me off, but you're still my bro."

"It's gonna sound horrible, but I'm glad Mom started messin' around," I told her.

She giggled. "I was thinking the same thing. We still gotta stop her, but if she hadn't, we'd still be fighting, wouldn't we?"

"I imagine so."

"What do we do about her?"

I had been thinking about it. I rolled her over, lying on top of her. Moved down a little so I could play with her breasts. "I'm thinking three things," I said, squeezing her tits.

She pushed my hands away, gently. "Sometime I can't believe you're my brother. If you're gonna play with them, treat 'em right. Get me worked up a little, don't just go grabbin' and squeezin', numbnuts."

I cupped them in my hands, feeling their soft fullness. Gentler, rubbing my thumb across her nipples. She sighed. "Like your sister's titties, do ya?"

"They're perfect," I muttered, distracted from what we'd been talking about.

She pushed me off of her. "Come here, clueless. They're your first tits, aren't they?"

I nodded. "Pretty much everything's a first, Tiff."

Her look softened. She lay on her back, and tapped the bed beside her. "Here, on your side. You'll have free access. Touch and caress, but start easy for now. I guess some girls like it rougher, but I don't. Play with them but be gentle."

I did as she said, one arm underneath her head, cuddled in close, the other hand just grazing her skin, touching her all over.

"Better. Much better. Now tell me about the plan again. Three things..."

I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "First, we convince Mom she's loved and appreciated. We have to figure out how to get Dad paying her more attention."

"Loved, check."

"Then we work on the guilt, happy family, the risk, divorce, all that scary stuff," I said. I saw her nipples were hardening. Pretty little things.

"Guilt, check."

"Finally we interfere with the troublemakers. Fat Bastard most of all, we gotta try to keep him from her. Stop Aunt Tina from encouraging her. Her and Mrs. Ellis."

"Interfere, check," she said softer, squirming a little under my touch. Her hand grabbed mine, and brought it back to her tit, after it started wandering along her belly. "I guess 'How?' is the real question."

"She doesn't see him on weekends. We'll have lots of time tomorrow and Sunday to start paying her attention. Still gotta figure out how to get Dad working on her," I said. My fingertips grabbed her nipple and tugged lightly, feeling the firmness.

"Mmm," she purred. "That's nice, Bret." She was quiet for a few seconds, and twisted her torso a little. I figured it was a hint to pay the other one attention, and I did. "What about interfering?"

"Still have to come up with a plan for Monday. I... I was thinking of something pretty radical, for the guilt."

"Scoot down a little, bro. Kiss my booby."

I pressed my lips to her firm flesh, shifting lower on the bed. Lots of little kisses.

"I wanna feel your tongue," she whispered. "How radical?"

I don't know how I was supposed to respond, licking and talking at the same time. I kissed her nipple. "Let Mr. Ellis now about his wife's infidelity."

"Wow. That would cause some serious trouble," Tiffany said.

"Let Mom see the risk, the danger. Also get Mrs. Ellis to stop telling her it's Ok, that there's no risk if she's careful."

My lips were hovering over her nipple, kissing, and tonguing it lightly. "Suck it," she whispered, huskily.

I did, softly, then a little more firmly. "How? How do we unmask her?"

"He's gotta have a work email. Most businesses use the same pattern, something like first initial, last name. I can figure it out, given a little time. Once I have it, I can forward some of the texts from his wife, hiding who they were sent to."

"She might blame Mom. What if she tells Dad?"

"Probably be trouble, but she hasn't really done anything. She doesn't talk about the things she's done in the texts. She could deny it. Like I said, trouble, but not that bad."

"Suck, bro. Less talking, more sucking." She turned a little, giving me access to both her tits. I shut up, and enjoyed them for quite a while. She eventually pushed me away. "We've got to shave you next time. That was like sandpaper there for a while." She pushed me onto my back. "Wait here."

She left, and returned shortly with the lotion. "Time for blast-off number two. I'm gonna try to make you come. Hold out as long as you can. We're shooting for 10 minutes."

She laid out her paper-towels, lathered up her hands and started playing with my cock. She didn't seem to mind when I started playing with her tits. She even giggled softly. "Takin' your chances, aren't you? Think that's gonna help you hold out longer?"

I realized it would have just the opposite effect, and leaned back, hands behind my head, and let her work. Tried to distract myself thinking of what to do. "I'm gonna upload a program on Mom's phone. It will let me monitor her GPS and see where she goes. It'll also forward her texts. I'll forward them to your phone, since I hardly ever check mine."

"Mmmhmm," she murmured, adding some more lotion and stroking. "God, you have a nice one, bro."

I watched her hands, and had to turn away before I got too worked up. Too exciting, seeing the way she was looking at my cock, stroking it. "Any ideas were you want to go to college?"

She shrugged. "Not really. I know a lot of people going to UT, A&M, Tech, UTD, and UNT."

"They're good schools, you know. All have their specialties. Not too hard to get into. I'm gonna need your transcripts."

"But I haven't taken the SAT, and my grades kinda suck."

"Entrance essay. Great essays make up for a lot. There's other things we can do. Don't sweat it, Tiff. I got this. I just need your info."

She stretched out, bringing her face in line with her hand. "You're doing great, bro. After the first couple of times, I never thought you'd last more than a couple of minutes. You gettin' bored with me?"

I chuckled. "Talk to me about schooling. If I think about what you're doing, it's all over."

She brought her face closer, until I could feel her breath. "This? A little handjob? If you can't survive a few minutes of this, how are you ever gonna make it through the next phase?"

"Tiff..." I moaned, her face so sexy, her teasing driving me crazy.

"Long enough. Come for me Bret. Now. I need it," she whispered, her hand moving faster.

I groaned, surrendering to her. I thrust against her hand with my hips, and erupted. The first blast cleared the top of the paper towel, making her chuckle. She continued jerking me off, milking me dry. When I was done she took her time cleaning me up with the paper towels. I got a nice little sister kiss, nothing crazy, and then she rolled over on her back, wriggling out of her panties. This time I didn't discourage her.

"Your turn, Bret. Let's see what you've got. Tease me, touch me, make me come for you."

Having free access to her body made my heart race. I explored her, caressing her, kissing her all over. Her hand brushed across my skin, through my hair, encouraging me. Her soft words did the same, letting me know what she liked. I stayed at her torso for several minutes, before moving lower. She opened her legs, making herself available to me, and I was lost.