Liberty Summer Ch. 03

CHAPTER 3: Impromptu mom and daughter dance off. Then we meet the neighbors.

Copyright 2023 by Ted Ursi/TeddySmutWriter, all rights reserved.

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So I rolled out of bed in the morning smelling even more like a whorehouse after a very busy night. Intending to head straight for the shower and thinking the new rules were very convenient, I noticed my door was ajar. If it was that way now it was that way soon after I thought I had shut it and lay down to play slap and tickle with engorged lady parts. I had not been quite.

Exasperated I sat down at my desk and took out a piece of printer paper from the feed tray. I grabbed a marker and wrote "NOTICE: IF THIS DAMNED DOOR IS AJAR, PLEASE TREAT IT AS IF IT WERE CLOSED! (IGNORE ANY ODD SOUNDS EMANATING FROM WITHIN.)"

Taping that in place, I went to the bathroom where I closed and locked the door there because I wasn't yet ready for other people watching me pee. Then I had a long hot shower followed off by a good toweling and a quick blow dry, because, what good is being a flaming redhead if you can't walk around like your head is on fire?

My stomach growled.

Mom and Dad were at the breakfast bar dressed for work. Mom was saying "I've got three showings and a closing today, I guess I'll have to cheat and buy something at the deli before going over to check on Konrad."

"Why don't you ask Rusty to make something?" Dad said. "She's free all day."

"I'm standing right here," I said. "Naked. Hard to miss..."

"Yes Dear," Mom said. "You look lovely even with that hair."

"From a man's perspective, she looks wonderful," Dad said. "Rusty you look like a dream come true."

"A wet dream," Mom snickered.

"Those are the best kind Darling." Dad smiled at me. "Men love bedhead, especially if they caused it."

Dad stood and kissed the top of Mom's head. Mom grabbed his neck to pull him down for a long soulful kiss. I'm not exaggerating, I could see the flickers of their tongues. When she finally released him, Dad picked up his laptop case and strode from the room with quite a spring in his step. Soon I heard his Charger growl as he backed down the driveway.

Mom looked at me. "There's scrambled eggs and sausage patties in the fryer. I think we have grapefruit in the fridge if you want something lighter. Help yourself Dear."

"Maybe a pasta salad?" I asked.

"For breakfast?"

"No for the Havraneks"

"Splendid!" Mom came around the bar and gave me a peck on the cheek. I could see the gleam of her collar under silk blouse. "I think we have everything you need but if not you can run to Krogers. Save the receipt."

I had been thinking a pasta salad would have been a good thing for Mom to get at the deli. But now I was stuck making it. Mom would know store bought in an instant. Oh well. "You think they'll notice at work?"

"What Dear?"

I pointed to her neck and Mom's hand went up to touch her collar. "Most not, but probably Ricky, he always says something about how nice I look before he makes his daily pass."

I had met Mr. Johnson, he was a fat lizard masquerading as a human being. "Uh... you wouldn't ever taken him up on that?"

"Never Dear!" Mom said. "Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"Unless I really piss of my Dom somehow and he orders me to."

"And you would fuck fat greasy old Ricky Johnson if Uncle Bill said so?"

"Of course!" Mom looked surprised that I looked surprised. "That's a no brainer in the lifestyle Dear."

"Well I'm glad I'm not 'in the lifestyle.'"

"Which reminds me, I want you to understand Casey there's no pressure on you about that... Either way, you understand?"

"Yes Mom."

"I gotta run." Her face brightened. "First day with the new car! No more snide remarks about using the company wheels because poor Libby had lost her curb appeal."

She walked out and then right back in. "The yard and pool crews are due this morning. Please put something on before they get here."

Then she was gone again.

Of course I forgot and was in the kitchen chopping veggies when I heard a bunch of little two stroke motors fire up. Soon after came the greater howl of the lawn mower. I ran upstairs and threw on an old sweatshirt and track shorts.

Greg was emerging from his room naked. "Yard crew is here Bro, need to cover up."

"After I shower." He trundled into the bathroom.

I turned around and went back in my room. I raked my fingers through my hair. Then I pulled off the sweatshirt. I looked at myself in the mirror and pulled my shorts up tight giving myself a pronounced cameltoe. I liked the look but I needed a top... I considered a bikini top but rejected it. I needed something overtly bad girl.

I went to my band shirt drawer grabbed my Slipknot T-shirt and did something I had considered but shied away from until now. With a scissors I cut off the sleeves and enough of the of the midsection that, while not showing underboob, the remaining material hung straight down straight from my tits. The cut was uneven, three inches higher on the right than the left. I slipped it on and admired myself in the mirror. Perfect.

What the fuck was I doing?

All I knew is that I craved eyeballs registering me as a sexual being. I didn't care who. I felt not giving the yard crew something to see would be a missed opportunity. Putting in my earbuds and starting my metal playlist, I danced back downstairs phone strapped to my arm. So now I was dancing around the kitchen to "Killpop" preparing a big pitcher of ice water. I took it on the back deck and whistled. A half dozen faces were staring a me. Yes.

I forgot the glasses. I went in and got a stack of plastic tumblers we used around the pool. Back outside I saw the crew back at work. Their boss was standing by the pitcher. I took out an earbud and looked at him. "Gracias signorita, but they must finish the yard before they may drink."

"De nada Carlos." The same crew had been coming by every other week in the summer for four years. "It is unusually hot this year."

"Yes it is," he said. "You are becoming quite a young woman."

Carlos was coming on to me! I could feel my nipples harden under the T-shirt. If he made an overt move, how would I respond? I had no idea. I mean, what was keeping me from fucking him? Perhaps Mom and Dad would disapprove of shagging 'the help' but I was an autonomous person now. Still....

"Gracias Carlos." I smiled at him. "Rodrigo has gone to be a marine. I want to send him nice pictures to cheer him up. Thus you see me like this."

"Pictures of you like that would certainly cheer him up but I don't think he can get at them yet." Carlos said. "Boot camp is very long and very hard."

"So many things are in life," I said. "It can sometimes be a good thing."

"They isolate them for a reason," he said. "Their phones are locked away. If they earn the privilege they may get access to them on a Sunday. When that happens he will probably call his hot girlfriend just to hear her voice. You can talk then and make arrangements."

"Only on Sundays?"

"Yes, they are very strict."

"Why would he call me and not his parents?"

He looked me up and down like it was obvious. "He is a very lucky young man."

"No luck involved," I said. "He deserves the best. He was a loyal friend to my brother when Greg needed it most."

"Then he will make a good marine," Carlos said. "I must go and check on my crew."

"You are a good man Carlos," I said. "When I told you about Rodrigo you became respectful. Did you also serve?"

Carlos puffed up his chest. "Indeed. Thirty-first MEU."

I had no idea what that was. "Thank you for your service."

"Gracias." He turned and walked away. A few steps away he casually adjusted his khaki shorts.

I went back in the kitchen. Greg was standing there by the butcher block cutting board in gym shorts holding a carrot.

"I need that," I said. "Don't run off with it."

He hastily put the veggie down. "Gees Case."

"It's cool Bro," I said. "That one has been scraped, there's more in the veggie bin."

"I can't believe you're okay with my..." he looked internally for a word. He found one. "...fetish?"

"I'm okay with it, you're my brother." I felt tears welling. "Besides I'm okay with Mom going down on Dad right in front of me last night. I'm okay with Mom being at Uncle Bill's sexual beck and call. I'm even okay with Dad being okay with Mom being that way."

Next I knew I was in his arms. "Hey now Rusty Wusty... hey now... sokay. Sokay."

"I guess it's gotta be." It was calming in his arms, but also a little arousing. "Bowties or rotini?"

He looked at me, confused.

"I'm making a pasta salad for Mr. Havranek."

"Bowties," Greg answered. "Twelve ounces in a box rather than sixteen. But somehow it feels like a full pound. Less carbs that way."

It was my turn to look at him with confusion. In the adult world there's nothing more alpha than a chef, but for teenagers....

Greg understood where my brain was. "Mom told me."

"Oh."

He flexed a bicep. "Gotta watch myself or all this will turn to fat."

"Never" I said. "You're a maniac on the weight bench. I need a favor."

"Non sequitur much?" he responded. "What?"

"I want to make a hot video for Roger out by the pool when the crew leaves. Will you shoot it for me on my phone."

"We can do that," he said. "But first I need to take care of something."

'Something' was probably the boner rubbing against my leg. I slapped his naked chest. "Go do what you gotta do."

I put my earbud back in and started dancing while chopping and grating and putting water on to boil. I kept the volume down to where I could feel the power of the music but wouldn't be surprised easily. Plus no nuclear sonar pings.

When I went to the fridge to get the bell peppers I noticed the corner of the carrot bag sticking out of the veggie bin. Good for you Bro, I thought. Enjoy.

Our yard isn't all that big and it's arranged rather simply, so detailing it around the edges doesn't actually take that much work. Soon I noticed all of the crew gulping glasses of ice water. When they were done Carlos had the most junior worker gather up everything and bring it to the back door. I met him there and he eyed me appreciatively. I smiled and gave my boobs a little shake. "Gracias...ah?..."

"Carlos señorita," he stammered. "El gran Carlos es mi padre."

"Will you go to be a marine too?"

"Si, when I am old enough." Well that answered the important question.

I gave him a peck on the cheek and watched him rub there as he walked away. His coworkers started ribbing him until gran Carlos silenced them with a word. Then he spoiled it all by giving his son a noogie.

Back to work on the pasta salad. Grating the carrots was the worst. I solved the bleeding knuckles risk by just eating the butt ends well before my fingers got close to the metal. Everything else went easy peasy. Soon I had a very nice pasta salad in a glass bowl chilling in the fridge.

Five minutes or so later Greg came back into the kitchen. He had ditched his shorts and his cock hung quiescent. He had something long and stiff wrapped in a gray single use shopping bag in his hand which he put in the trash. "Ready?"

"Give me a minute." I went up to my room to put on a pair of flip flops and fetch the Bluetooth speakers I hardly ever used.

I came down back to the kitchen. "Let's do this."

"You know this is going to send him mixed messages," Greg said.

"That's 'cause I have mixed feeling Bro," I said. "But I also have a wicked plan."

"Oh?" His face showed interest. "Can I help?"

"Maybe... probably. I'm going to get him laid by as many girls as I can when he comes back on leave."

His face looked at me with a 'What am I? Chopped liver?' look.

"Working on that too Greg," I said. "Remember what I said last night about Chloe's party."

His shoulders sank. "Good luck with that."

"Have faith Bro," I said. "Two women who love you are on the case."

While we had been talking we went out to the pool and I set up the speaker on the table with the big parasol. Took a bit of fuss getting the Bluetooth to sync. Greg asked "what music are we going with."

"Seether," I said. "The Careless Whisper cover."

"Don't know it."

"It's a cover of an old George Michael song. Most people know it by the chorus 'never gonna dance again.'"

"Yeah, I think I know it," he said. "A real mixed message all right. It's about cheating―like you fucked somebody else. Are you sure?"

"By the time he gets to see it I probably will have," I said. "Maybe several."

Greg gave a low whistle. I set the music up to play and then thought of an issue.

"This ain't gonna work," I said. "You gotta start the music and the video at the same time."

"You have the music, I'll record with my phone."

I thought about that. My brother would have a sexy video of me on his phone. "Only if you promise to erase it once you send it to me."

"Deal." He said it too fast.

"I'm serious Greg."

"I'll give you access and you can do the erasing yourself."

"Deal then." I walked over and pulled him over to the table. "Stand in the shade so there's no lens flare."

"Ready when you are."

I hit the button on my phone and walked out into the sun. The speaker hissed as I stood ready.

"Video is rolling."

The music started. For the first verse I swayed my hips gently to the music while toying with the bottom of my shirt. I would turn to one side or the other lifting an edge with one hand or the other, never quite high enough to show a nipple. By the last line of the verse I was facing away and lifting my shirt all the way while swaying my butt as best I could. Even twerking a little.

Then the first chorus hit and I whirled around, dropping the shirt back down and shooting my fingers up through my hair. I danced in circles madly, losing one of my flip flops but I kept going. Playing to the asymmetry of one bare foot.

On to the second verse. I started by slowly doing the cross-armed shirt peel off and then dancing slowly while playing with the waist of my shorts. I would alternately pull it down to show a hint of my bush and pulling it up tight to give maximum camel toe. By this time I was starting to sweat in the hot sun and my breasts were gleaming. I'm sure my inner thighs were as well but that wasn't perspiration.

For the second chorus I again started whirling and stepping out, but this time I had one hand in my hair while the other inched my shorts down until they reached the point of no return and fell to my ankles. I almost, almost lost my footing but I didn't. I did lose the other flip flop.

In the fraction second before the bridge hit I scooped up one of my shoes to use as a prop. Swaying slowly and sensually to the beat I started spanking myself with the flip flop. I struck my thighs, my belly, my breasts, my ass and finally my cunt. I sorta repeated that cycle with a little bit of variation striking harder each time. By the end of the third go-round the hits were quite stingy. Especially the last one on my twat.

I came. I'm sure it was obvious the way my knees slammed together and I went into an involuntary crouch. Not to mention my wide eyed gaping lipped face.

And for the final chorus I danced a little less crazy but far more brazenly, actually bending over give a good view or my red ass cheeks and glistening slit. But that's not how I wanted to end. What I did was turn back and move in close to Greg slowly to stop at selfie range slowly bobbing my head to the final strains of song.

"And cut!" Greg said. "That's a wrap!"

Someone started clapping.

We turned to see Mom in her office clothes. "That was beautiful Baby. You're a natural."

I blushed and started picking up my clothes. Greg blushed and dropped his hands to try and cover himself. He failed miserably because he was rock hard.

"The closing got canceled so I'm home early."

"Um... I'm gonna go in and..." Greg started to ease away.

"Relax Greg," Mom said. "So you got a hard on watching Casey dance. Someday you will be so jaded your dick won't even twitch. Besides, your dad tells me a stiff prick feels good, in and of itself, so just relax and enjoy it while it lasts."

"Mom!" we said together.

"Radical truth Dear Ones. Radical truth."

I walked over to Greg and took his phone away without resistance. I forwarded the video and, when I heard the ping of arrival on my own phone, I erased the file.

Mom walked over and put her briefcase down on the chair beside the speakers. "Greg, are you up to doing another video?"

"Uh Mom..." He pointed below his waist.

"You shot Casey while hard, it didn't affect your performance, did it?"

"But... but―"

"No buts Dear." To me she asked "Casey, can you play me the older version of the song, the one with the sexy sax?"

"Sure Mom," I said. "It's a little longer than the Seether version."

"That's good," Mom said. "Because I have more to take off."

Mom handed Greg her phone. "Don't you dare swipe left or right."

"Trust me Mom," my twin said. "I ain't gonna do that."

"Good boy."

We all took up position. Mom struck a dramatic pose one spiked heel turned out and gripping the lapels of her blazer, looking straight at the lens of her phone in her naked son's hand.

"Music!" I said and hit the button on the original George Michael version of the song.

"Rolling!" Greg said.

Mom started swaying as the music started, hands on her thighs. What I did with my shirt in the first verse, she did with her skirt, teasingly lifting it by tugging on the material over her thighs. Midway through she switched to her blazer, opening one side than the other. It was pretty obvious she wasn't wearing a bra the way a breast would bounce in circles as she danced. Not mention the darkness of her areola under the translucent cloth and the aroused nipple making a tiny tent pole.

The first chorus started and Mom picked up her pace, but not a lot, stepping out left and right then whirling about and danced facing away, arms in the air. She finished the chorus by shrugging off her blazer with her arms behind so the whole thing flew off her arms and it almost landed in the pool. Almost.

Not that anything would have stopped if it did. We were all into the moment.

The second verse saw the slow unbuttoning of Mom's blouse. Between buttons she would tease with a flash or side boob or reach in and pinch one nipple or the other. You could tell those pinches were seriously hard core.

There were a lot of buttons and Mom hadn't gotten them all before the second chorus started. Planned or unplanned, Mom danced with her arms in the air, blouse open below her navel and her sweat glistened, perfectly tanned breasts popping in and out of view as she gyrated. You probably wouldn't notice her loosened the cuffs of her sleeves while her tits were played peekaboo with the camera for, you know, reasons. So when the second chorus neared its end she could repeat the whirling expulsion of her upper garment, leaving my mother topless and her steel collar gleaming in the sunlight.

Now came the bridge. This was all hip work as mom eased down the side zipper of her skirt and danced out of it with far greater skill than I had shed my far less bulky shorts. As proof her Jimmy Choos never came remotely close to slipping off.

Of course Mom wasn't wearing panties.

Clad in garter belt and stockings Mom danced the last chorus wantonly, squeezing her breasts and pulling her nipples out. Shamelessly rubbing her clit in time to the music and even spreading the outer lips with two fingers, smirking at the camera all the time. When she turned away and bent at the waist she reached back to spread her cheeks―revealing the big steel butt plug in it's natural habitat.

This one wasn't one of those tiny fake jewel things you see all over the internet. This was twice as large with the base shaped like a lion's head and a solid ring through it's nose. How Greg held the camera steady the moment he saw that I will never fathom.