Favela Pt. 12

"Two number eights, and two number fourteens, and a thirty-six to split." Looping her arm around her partner's waist, the woman nodded and yanked the other woman forward into her arms. Olivia could see all their muscles flexing through their translucent tights, there was no sign of strain or stress, each movement was carefully coordinated. The two dancers spun away and the light along with it, leaving Olivia blinking dumbly in the darkness. "I hope you don't mind I ordered for you." Her mom half shouted over the roar of the music.

Olivia would have laughed if she hadn't been so overwhelmed and awestruck. The red light had resurfaced but there was a new intention behind it now, methodically it would seek out the columns of white, penetrating and polluting them with its pigment, dallying for a minute or two before departing to find a new victim, leaving a tainted pink column in its wake. As it drew closer Olivia was able to see the drama unfolding inside.

The woman in red would circle the white couple, caressing and whispering to them, they did not seem to notice her, but their behavior would change drastically. They would stop dancing and start kissing, a wild untamed passion that quickly degenerated, coats were torn off and cast away, cute little hats were knocked asunder. The leotards as it turned out were composed of two parts, the top of which could be ripped off. Olivia blushed as she watched two topless white women with their hands all over each other.

The music seemed to moan in ecstasy as all the strings played the same note together at earsplitting volume. The various lights, now all red, went scattering in random directions, temporarily vanishing from the 'stage'. A few minutes later they began to filter back in, a few at a time. One made its way to their table, the two white dancers from before were carrying silver trays loaded with plates of food and elaborate looking drinks.

In seconds they had offloaded their cargo and had returned to the floor, their wild erotic escapades resuming. Olivia realized she was ravenous, and without so much as a word, she started attacking the food in front of her. She had no idea what it was, but despite her hunger, it was one of the most delicious things she'd ever put in her mouth. The drink as well, which she tried unsuccessfully to sip, was gulped down in seconds.

Periodically the dancers returned, removing plates, replacing drinks, bringing additional delicacies too numerous to mention. Before long Olivia's head was swimming, and her belly was begging her to stop. Marcella was even worse off, she'd had several more drinks than her daughter and was starting to slouch precariously in her chair. The music seemed to fade away, Olivia blinked, her eyes hurt it was too bright.

The lights had come back on at some point, it made them both feel strangely conspicuous. The rest of the tables had filled up while the show had been going on, the large open space seemed a lot less empty now, several pairs of curious eyes glanced in their direction. Olivia and Marcella did their fair share of looking around as well. Her mom reached out and took her hand, then leaning in she whispered in her daughter's ear.

"One of the dancers gave us a funny look, I think they're getting suspicious. We should put on a little act, you know, just to blend in." She slurred, gesturing downward with her eyes, Marcella moved Olivia's hand under the table and placed it firmly on her knee. Smiling she continued talking in a low soothing voice. "You liked touching my pantyhose before, go ahead and do it again." Her voice wavered a little near the end, it sounded nervous or maybe excited, Olivia wasn't quite sure.

There was no tablecloth and the table itself was a little higher than normal, Olivia blushed hotly when she thought about how everyone around them would be able to see everything she did. Although her embarrassment was slightly diffused when she noticed the other nearby couples doing things of their own. Now she was blushing for an entirely different reason, as one woman sitting less than three meters away, looked her steadily in the eyes as she slowly kissed her way up her partner's neck.

Feeling her crotch heating up sympathetically Olivia barely realized that her hand had started moving on its own. Only when Marcella made a happy moany sound did she pull up short, glancing over and then down, panicking when she saw how far she'd pushed her mom's red skirt up her thigh. "Porra we're super chapado." She hissed under her breath. The only thing that calmed her down was the look on Marcella's face, she had her head tilted back and her eyes were closed, her mouth curved into a broad blissful grin.

"Perrrrrfect." She breathed as she exhaled luxuriously. Olivia found her eyes fixated painfully on her mom's heaving bosom with its prominently erect nipples and what little cleavage there was. Her hand started moving again, defying her apprehension, gliding down to Marcella's knee, and then back up again. It was something about the texture of the pantyhose, she just couldn't control herself. The feeling against her skin was amazing, and it made an exciting zipping or hissing sound as she moved. Her fingers curled around the side of Marcella's leg, back into the softer sanctum of her inner thigh.

She giggled giddily as the absurdly slippery fabric of her mom's skirt seemed to slither and flow almost like water over and sometimes under her fingers. She waged a constant silent battle, brushing and bunching it out of her way each time she made another pass. Her pulse was pounding, her crotch throbbing, the frustration of fighting with her mom's skirt was inexplicably driving her wild. It was like it had a mind of its own and was hellbent on thwarting her efforts to continue the sensual stroking without interruption.

Marcella chuckled, seeming to perceive at least in part this curious conflict of interest. Olivia might have scowled, but her mom's eyes were still shut tight, and anyway, she was honestly enjoying it. She'd finally worked up the courage to raise her hand to the same lofty heights she'd reached in the bedroom. Marcella's body radiated heat like a small furnace, Olivia could feel it seeping into her shaky fingers, and the higher she got the hotter it became.

Her brows furrowed as she felt the back of her hand brush against her mother's other leg. She was blocked, she'd be forcing Marcella's legs apart if she went any farther. And that would just end with her hand stuck awkwardly between them, or far worse, slowing down so much that her otherwise innocuous stroking suddenly took on a whole new dimension. Just as she was about to pull away, Marcella cleared her throat loudly and gave her head an interesting little shake.

Olivia felt her mom's knee swing outward and bump lightly into her chair, then Marcella slumped down in her seat, sliding her bottom forward a few inches. "You've got me so relaxed." She murmured. "You weren't going to stop, were you?" She asked, her voice a confusing mixture of challenge and desperation. There was now a vast drafty chasm yawning at the back of Olivia's tingling fingers. Instead of answering directly, she just slid her hand slowly back down to her mother's knee.

This was it, she knew she probably wouldn't get another chance this perfect tonight. Summoning every gram of self-confidence she could muster, Olivia started the sluggish ascent, her heart thudding more ferociously with every millimeter. Passing the highest point she'd dared so far, her head felt light like it was coming loose. The heat continued to rise, it felt impossibly hot, surrounding her on all sides, then before she even had a chance to fully appreciate where she was; it was pressing firmly and wetly into her.

The springy, spongy crotch of her mom's pantyhose, thicker than the rest but still surprisingly thin. Thanks to the crotchless lingerie she'd picked out for Marcella to wear, it was the only thing standing between her hand and her mother's burning cunt. She could feel both of her mom's labia distinctly, and twisting her wrist let her feel the squishy cleft between them. What am I doing? She asked herself, suddenly very aware of how long she'd let her hand nestle into her mother's inviting mound.

At the very moment she lost her nerve and decided to quickly pull away, Marcella's legs clamped shut, trapping her hand tightly between them. Sliding back up into her chair her mom tilted sideways, crossing her left leg over her right in one smooth motion. Olivia's hand had gone from partially between her mother's legs to being rolled almost all the way through, it was now clamped rather comfortably flat, with the base of her thumb digging neatly into the very bottom of Marcella's vulva.

Forced to lean in the same direction her right arm was being pulled, hunched awkwardly forward, Olivia found herself face to face with her flushed but smiling mother. "I know it's weird, but I'd rather not take any chances. If we kiss a bit no one will suspect we're not a couple." Their foreheads bumped together, reaching up with her right hand Marcella slid her fingers through Olivia's short wiry hair at the back of her head, tilting it so that their lips could touch. But she didn't make any other move.

They both sat like that for several seconds, breathing harder and harder, practically panting. Then without warning their lips were pressing together, Olivia hadn't initiated it, but neither had Marcella, somehow it had just happened. Olivia felt her crotch clench powerfully, she'd already been pretty wet, but now it felt like she'd sat in a puddle. At the same moment she'd felt her mom's thighs squeeze down on her sweaty hand, her thumb sunk deeper into the elastic web which felt hotter than ever.

They were still kissing, their mouths closed, using only the lightest pressure, like they might end it at any moment. But they didn't, they just kept kissing, almost breaking away even as they continued but always at the last possible second sliding simultaneously back together. Every time this happened they both knew it was intentional, that neither of them wanted it to stop. This realization corresponded to an intense sexual response that Olivia could feel not only in her own body, but thanks to the unique position of her hand, could feel in her mother as well.

Something hot and wet trickled down her wrist, she longed to splay her fingers, to shove her thumb as far as it would reach into her mother's faintly throbbing opening. To tear through the surprisingly resilient crotch of the pantyhose and drive her thumb as deep as she could into Marcella, but she knew she couldn't, not without breaking the magical spell instilled by the alcohol. So instead she tried to focus on how wonderful it was having her mom's entire hot pussy pressed against her hand while they kissed.

Then it was over, Marcella pulled back and uncrossed her legs, abruptly pushing back her chair she slid out of Olivia's reach even as she stood up. "I have to go to the bathroom." She said breathlessly, her eyes darting about anxiously. Turning gracefully she started off, only weaving slightly. Olivia watched hungrily, her eyes locked on her mother's hypnotic wobbling ass, unable to remember a time she'd felt so utterly full of lust.

Raising her hand so quickly to her mouth that she almost slapped herself in the face, she attacked its wet glistening side with her tongue. Greedily she licked off all of her mother's juices, then sucked on her own skin until it started stinging. The familiar flavor of her mom's sexual arousal made her head spin, frantically she dragged Marcella's chair closer until it bumped up against her own. The ubiquitous colored lights that dotted the vaulted ceiling glinted brightly off the small puddle that had pooled in the center of Marcella's chair.

Unable to fully comprehend what was driving her actions, Olivia reached back and lifted her skirt up from underneath her bottom, then as inconspicuously as she was able given her nearly hysterical state of excitement, bumped her body up and over onto her mother's chair. Plopping down directly in the center she felt an immediate rush as her mother's juices flooded into her barely-covered crotch. She moaned and felt her body going limp, head slumping down on her chest as she flopped forward, only being saved from falling by the table's proximity.

Shuddering, all conscious control gone, her hips and ass ground down relentlessly on the chair's hard metal seat. She could feel herself opening, the pressure pushing her swollen labia apart through her thin lace lingerie, but also her body physically relaxing, inviting, soliciting, preparing her for an expected penetration that would never come. All she could feel was hot wetness seeping everywhere inside and out. Panting, heart pounding, on the verge of climax but unable to ever reach it Olivia clawed her way back from the brink of insanity.

Groaning in agony she forced her head back upright, then slowly pushed her body backwards. Only one thought consumed her consciousness, she couldn't wait another second, she had to go find her mother in the bathroom and fuck her senseless. Almost knocking over the chair she bounced upright, even though she'd intentionally had less alcohol than her mother she was still decidedly drunk. Juices trickled down the backs of her legs as she stumbled undaunted towards the back of the station.

There were no doors, just a beautiful tile mosaic baffle. Silently she said a prayer of thanks as she careened off the walls and found herself in a spacious and well-lit room. One side was an edge-to-edge bank of narrow stalls (most were open), the other a solid seamless mirror broken by a wide counter festooned by a row of sparkling sinks. A few women were standing there, even one of the Caucasian performers still in her costume, putting on makeup or chatting casually. The cozy scene put a slight kink in her ravenous sexual craving.

Still determined to get satisfaction she tried to look under each occupied stall without attracting too much attention. She needn't have worried, the other women ignored her completely. She found her mother's feet so quickly she nearly breezed on past. Recognizing them so easily made her wonder at how well she knew Marcella's body. Backtracking she froze in front of the door, perhaps she'd sobered up a bit or maybe it was just the terribly distracting chattering of the other women, but she was suddenly afraid.

Unable to leave but too scared to try the handle, she did the only sensible thing and stepped quietly into the adjacent stall. Crossing her arms over her chest she sat down on the toilet, sulking her face stuck in a cute pouty expression she barely noticed her body moving automatically. Moments later she was staring at her underwear rolled up between her knees. She didn't need to pee, but her muscle memory and mild intoxication didn't seem to care.

Sighing in exasperation she wondered what she was doing. Turning her head she stared at the wall, imagining her mother just on the other side. She hadn't heard the door, so she knew she hadn't left. Her ears perked up at an unexpected sound, and her suspicions grew as she wondered why her mom was taking so long. Placing both hands and her left ear to the wall, she listened intently, her mouth curling into a dirty grin as she heard again the sound that was unmistakably a moan of pleasure.

The more she listened the more she heard, there were other sounds too, wet squishing sounds. Olivia's fingers trailed down to her own crotch, she imagined she was touching her mother, and as if to reward her Marcella moaned again right on cue. Olivia gently rubbed her aching cunt, it was still insanely slippery because of her panty soaking escapades. When she thought about how some of her mother's juices were on her fingers her body went wild. Olivia moaned unintentionally as two of her fingers slid inside.

It got quiet in her mom's stall, she must have heard, after all Olivia did have her head pressed up against their shared wall. Still, it wasn't very long before Marcella started up again. Olivia tried to follow along as quietly as she could, only letting a few more strangled moans slip out as her mom's enthusiasm began to build. This time however Marcella didn't stop, if she heard her neighbor's sounds it didn't seem that she cared. Olivia was smiling even though she struggled to concentrate, she was finally getting a feel for her mother's rhythm, and she found that she liked it.

Slowly she slid her fingers in and out, trying hard to match the sounds her mother's hand was making. It's like I'm the one controlling your body mãe. She breathed, fogging up the black marble. Or maybe it's more like you're finger fucking me? She let out a particularly loud moan at that thought, luckily her mother did the same thing at exactly the same time. Giggling softly at this even as she felt the first pangs of an unstoppable orgasm, Olivia stroked the cool wall with her one free hand. "Come for me mamãe. Make your filha come. Let's come together." She breathed, barely audible but still out loud.

A long low moan came from the other side of the stall, Olivia could feel it herself and joined in. Her pussy clenched over and over, strong slow pulses that made her feel weak in every part of her body. She could feel it pulling on her fingers as she twisted them playfully, trying to prolong the transcendental moment. Somehow she knew that Marcella was feeling and doing exactly the same thing, or at least that's what she chose to believe. After she'd had enough, Olivia quickly lifted up her legs and balanced them precariously on the edge of the toilet.

She didn't know if her mom would be curious enough to glance underneath the door, to see who the crazy pervert was masturbating next to her. She only knew now that she certainly didn't want her mom to know it was her. Olivia's face heated up with embarrassment as she imagined trying to explain what she'd been doing. Far better to simply wait her out. And wait she did. Eventually she heard her mom pee then wipe and inevitably exit the stall.

Olivia just sat there, hunched up, anxious but still almost unbearably excited. She waited for five whole minutes. There was no way Marcella would stay hanging around in a bathroom for that long. Smirking, Olivia finally put her feet back down on the spotless tile floor. She pulled up her panties, gave her skirt a couple of strategic wacks, then cautiously exited the stall. Ironically the bathroom was now totally empty. Olivia didn't wash her hands since she hadn't peed, but then laughed out loud when she thought about how what she'd done was way more dirty.