Mom, My Sister, and Me Ch. 02

"Interesting. So Trish, what about you," mom asked, "would it excite you to let a man control you?"

"Maybe it would," Trish answered, "if it was the right guy, and if I was in the right mood."

"Well," mom said with a laugh as she looked at me, "I guess we women are all out of luck tonight because there's only one of you and three of us."

"Hey, that would add a whole new dimension to it," I said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, in your dreams," Brenda said, "I bet you'd like to control three women."

"Hmmm, quiet Brenda!" I said with a smile, "I'm considering the possibilities."

Mom took another sip of wine. "So what would you do with us helpless women if we played the game?"

"Ah, but you can't ask that in advance," I said, "that takes all the excitement out of it. You have to have enough trust in the guy to agree, in advance, to do what he says."

"What if he tells you to jump out a window?" mom asked.

"Clearly, in that case, you've put your trust in the wrong guy," I said, smiling at her, "Besides, it's not like he's taking control of your mind. After all, it's just a game you've mutually agreed to play. You can quit the game at any time."

"I guess you can see," Brenda said, looking at Trish, "we're sort of a weird family."

"Not at all," Trish said, "you guys seem perfectly normal to me. Except maybe for Tom, who seems to have a bit of an overactive imagination."

She looked at me and grinned.

Suddenly, mom raised her glass and held it up to me, as if proposing a toast.

"Let's try it," she said.

"Try what?"

"The game," she answered, "let's try the game now. Here. After all, if I can't trust my own son, who can I trust?"

"But you can't do it in a bar," I said.

"Sure you can," mom said, "What about you, Brenda? You're the one who started this all. Do you trust your brother?"

Brenda nodded.

"Then you'll play?"

Brenda blushed and looked at me. I raised my arms, as if to say 'you're on your own here. This is uncharted territory'.

"Sure," she said, "I'll try it."

I looked back and forth between the two of them.

"But I couldn't..."

"I'm calling your bluff," mom said, looking at me.

I felt a little uncomfortable, not exactly sure where this was all going.

"It wouldn't work unless everyone was involved," I said, looking at Trish. I was hoping this might give me a way out.

Trish shrugged her shoulders.

"Sure. I'll play your game," she said, "I mean, how bad could it be, here in public, with your own sister and mother."

Now it was my turn to shrug my shoulders.

"You guys are crazy," I said.

"It's an inherited trait," mom laughed.

*****

"Here are the ground rules," I said, "I'll give the command, and you obey. Right?"

They looked at me and nodded.

"Sort of like Truth or Dare," Brenda said, "only we aren't taking turns."

"What if we don't obey?" Trish asked.

"You're banished from the game and have to leave," I answered.

"Where would we go?" Trish asked with a giggle.

"Uh, you have to go down to the lobby and sit in the most uncomfortable chair you can find there, until the rest of us are done playing."

"That sounds like an appropriate punishment to me," mom said with a smile.

"Hey! This is heavy stuff," I said lightheartedly, "you guys aren't taking this seriously enough."

"No, no," mom said, looking from Brenda to Trish, "we're serious, aren't we?"

Brenda nodded and Trish put her hand over her mouth and giggled again.

"O.K." I said, "We'll start the game. Brenda, I command you to touch your nose with your thumb."

Brenda smiled and held her thumb against her nose.

"How dare you command her to do that!" mom said with a laugh.

"Hah, your time will come," I said in my most menacing voice.

"Now, Trish..."

"Yes, command me, master," she interrupted.

"Trish, I want you to take two peanuts, no more, no less, from the bowl on the table and eat them."

Trish reached into the bowl and brought her hand to her mouth.

"Oh, master, obeying you gives me so much pleasure," she said with a smile as she popped the peanuts into her mouth.

"Now your turn, mom," I said with a grin, "I want you to tell me a four letter word starting with 'F' that means, among other things, to make love."

There was a pause. Mom looked at me, then at Brenda and Trish.

"If you don't answer," I said, "you're banished to the lobby."

She blushed and looked back at me.

"Fuck," she said softly. There was a little smile on her face as she said the word, as if to let me know she wasn't going to give up that easy.

"O.K., very good," I said.

I thought about what I'd do next. Glancing around the room, I saw that two other couples had come in after us. A low, decorative bookcase near our table stood between us and the couple on the far side of the room. Brenda and mom faced away from the couple seated nearer to us.

Maybe I'd had too much to drink, maybe we all had, but I figured I'd end our little game.

"Brenda," I said, "I want you to take off your pantyhose."

Brenda stared at me, a deep scowl on her face.

"Are you crazy?" she asked.

"Yes, probably," I answered with a smile.

Trish covered her mouth with her hand and giggled.

"No one will see you," I said.

"No one except you three," Brenda said, the scowl still on her face.

"But we're all friends and family here," I said, "so it doesn't matter."

"Yeah, right," she muttered.

Mom stared intently at Brenda. She was probably curious how Brenda would react, what she would do. Brenda glanced at mom, then at Trish. After taking another sip of wine, she glanced quickly around the room and kicked off her shoes. After one last look around, she raised her hips off the chair, and reaching under her skirt, pulled her pantyhose down her hips and off her legs.

"Satisfied?" she asked as she balled the pantyhose up in her hand and threw them at me. I caught them in midair and tucked them under her purse lying on the floor.

"Yes, I'm satisfied."

Trish still held her hand over her mouth, as if she couldn't believe Brenda had really done it.

"Mom," I said, "Your turn now."

"My turn for what?"

"Your bra," I said.

"But that would be almost impossible to do here"

"Your bra has to come off," I repeated.

She stared into my eyes. Five seconds went by, then ten, then mom slowly stood. There was a fourth chair at our table, next to the bookcase, and mom went to it. She sat down and swiveled the chair until it faced away from us and toward the bookcase. The high, wide back of the chair hid her completely from our view. A minute later she stood and returned to her original chair, her bra in her hand.

Beside me, I heard Trish whisper, "I can't..."

"You can't what?" I asked, looking at her.

"I can't take off my pantyhose," she said softly.

"You don't want to play anymore?" I asked.

Trish giggled softly.

"No, I can't," she said, "because I'm not wearing pantyhose... or a bra."

Her breasts were small enough she could get away without a bra, I realized, and the fluffy sweater she was wearing made it even less noticeable.

"Panties?" I asked.

Trish nodded.

"Then take them off."

Trish glanced around the room. Mom and Brenda sat across from her, their chairs between Trish and the couple seated behind them.. Apparently satisfied that no one could see her, Trish reached under her skirt, and raising her hips off the chair, quickly pulled down her panties and kicked them off her legs. She picked up her purse and tucked the panties inside. Reaching for her wine, she smiled at me as she brought the glass to her lips.

"That wasn't so difficult," she said.

Mom raised her hand, as if asking for permission to talk.

"I've gotta go to the ladies room," she said, "is peeing permitted in this game?"

"I suppose I'll allow it," I said with a smile.

"I'll join you," Brenda said as they both stood.

"Your family's a little...different," Trish said after mom and Brenda left.

She turned to face me.

"This isn't a silly game that will end with a laugh, is it?" she asked, "You guys are playing this for real, aren't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." She paused and her eyes lowered, like she was embarrassed to continue.

"Tell me," I said.

I mean...you guys have done this before, haven't you?" she said softly, "I can tell. The way your mom looks at you. The way your sister smiles when you talk to her. I can tell. You've done it before..."

"Done what?" I asked quietly.

"You know. You know what I mean," Trish said. She looked into my eyes. "I'm right, aren't I?"

I could feel myself blushing as she stared at me. There was a long pause.

"Yes," I whispered, "I guess we have."

"I'm glad you told me," Trish said softly.

She sat back in her chair and took another sip of wine.

"So I need to know," she said, "am I just some pawn in your family fun? Am I like a toy you guys picked up, so I could watch you do your stuff and somehow make it more exciting for all of you?"

Without thinking, I grabbed her hand and held it in mine.

"No, you've got it all wrong," I said, "Last night was the first time...the only time...we've done anything. It just happened. We'd all had too much to drink. We didn't plan it. I'm not sure how they even feel about it."

Trish looked into my eyes and smiled.

"So, you've only done it one time, and you were drunk. I guess that makes everything O.K."

"Of course not. But what happened, happened. We can't turn back time."

"But you want it to happen again," Trish said, "I can tell."

I released her hand and sat back in my chair. There was another pause.

"Yes," I said softly, "I want it to happen again."

"Then I should be going," Trish said, "I'll leave you guys alone. You want to fuck your mother again. You want to fuck your sister again. I can't compete with that. I can't compete with their big tits and their perfect asses and the clever little ways they signal you to make sure you know they want to do it again too."

I looked into Trish's face and saw a little tear forming in the corner of her eye. Instinctively, I reached out my arm and put it behind Trish's head and brought her face to my shoulder. My other arm went behind her back and I gently hugged her against me.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, "I'm so sorry. You're right. Maybe we are a bunch of self-serving shits. Maybe all we can think about is ourselves. But you're a wonderful person and I never intended to hurt you."

I held her close to me for a minute, maybe two, until she tilted her mouth toward my ear and whispered, "Have your fun with them. I don't mind. But I have one question."

"What" I whispered.

"Can I still play the stupid game with you shits?"

"As long as you don't turn into one yourself," I said with a chuckle as I pulled her tighter against me.

"I'm thousands of miles from home," she said softly, "and here I am, stuck with some guy in a bar who just last night fucked his mother and his sister for the first time, and wants to fuck them again tonight, and now he's hugging me. What am I supposed to think?"

"I don't know," I whispered, "Now it's different, Trish. Now...I want you."

Suddenly, she pulled her head away from my shoulder. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and looked into my eyes.

"I'm O.K." she said with a smile, "sometimes I just get too emotional about things."

She picked up her glass and raised it toward me. I clicked my glass against hers. She leaned back in her chair.

"I've always had this fantasy," she said, "about being in a public place and, you know...doing it where other people might be able to see you. I thought about it when you hugged me. I imagined the other couples here watching us hug. Would they be offended? Would they be curious?"

"Would you care?" I said with a laugh.

"I don't know...I've never had it happen," Trish answered.

"Come sit on my lap," I said.

There was a long pause. Trish stared down into her glass. Then she slowly stood, and taking a step toward me, plopped herself down in my lap.

"Uh, oh," I said, "here they come." Brenda and mom where making their way back to our table. They sat down and picked up their glasses.

"Welcome back," I said.

"We just couldn't stay away," mom said with a smile, "I see you two are becoming better acquainted."

Trish chuckled and gave her hips a little wiggle against my lap.

"So Brenda," I said, "earlier you were talking about...control, when you and Larry were together, did you..."

"No," she interrupted, knowing what I was going to ask, "Larry and I were never...compatible that way."

"What do you mean?" mom asked.

"Brenda, wait," I said, "before you continue, I think we all need to see a little more of your legs."

Brenda slowly reached down and slid the hem of her skirt three or four inches higher on her thighs. Now, from where Trish and I sat, we could see the white skin of her inner thighs, high up her legs, until the shadows of her skirt hid the point where her thighs came together.

"Your turn, Mom," I said, "I want you to unbutton your blouse."

She blushed and didn't move.

"Now, mom!"

Her blush deepened. Slowly, she raised her hand, and one by one, unfastened the buttons.

"Pull open the front of your blouse and your jacket," I told her, "so we can all see your breasts."

Mom hesitated, then used both hands to slowly open her front, parting her blouse and jacket until her large breasts were fully exposed.

"Go on, Brenda," I said, "you were telling us about Larry."

"Larry was...I'm not sure how to explain it, but he was sort of conservative," she continued, "I mean, not politically conservative, but socially...He had his set habits and his own way of thinking, and he just couldn't accept any other way of doing things.

As Brenda talked, I put my hands under the back of Trish's sweater and slid them around to her front until they rested flat on her stomach. I moved my hands in large circular motions, caressing the soft, tight skin of her stomach.

"Go on," I said to Brenda.

"I mean, when it came to our relationship, when it came to...sex..." Brenda's voice trailed off.

"What? Tell us," I said.

"It's sort of embarrassing to talk about," she continued, "but I sort of...I'm sort of willing to try different things. I mean, I needed different things than him."

"Like what?" mom asked.

Meanwhile, my hands, still under Trish's sweater, moved higher, and Trish let out a short gasp as I opened my hands wide and cupped them over her breasts. Her breasts were tiny, like little peaches in my hands. They were hard, and firm, and I could feel her little nipples, stiff and erect, pressing against my palms.

Meanwhile, Brenda took a sip of wine and continued.

"I'm not sure I can explain it, but Larry was like a lovable puppy dog, and I needed...I needed something different."

"Different in what way?" I asked.

"One day," she continued, "Larry said he wanted to know about other guys I'd...been with, before I met him. I tried to laugh off his question, but he pushed and pushed until I told him about a guy I'd gone out with when I was a junior in college. He was an instructor there, about five years older than me. He was the nicest guy in the world, but when we were alone, when we were...having sex, he turned into another person. He was demanding. He told me what he wanted, in the most explicit words. He treated me like I was his slave, and when we made love...it wasn't love at all. He was rough with me and took me whenever and wherever he wanted.

Brenda took another sip of wine.

There was a long pause. None of us said anything, the only sound being the little mewing whimpers coming out of Trish's mouth as I rolled her nipples gently between my thumb and forefinger.

The waiter appeared at the far corner of the room and headed in our direction. I slid my hands out from under Trish's sweater and mom pulled the front of her jacket together. As I ordered another bottle of wine from the waiter, I could see his eyes lingering on Brenda, her skirt still high up on their thighs.

The waiter left and I slowly tugged the back of Trish's skirt out from under her and slid my hand underneath, feeling it make contact with the bare skin of her hip. I slid my hand around to her front and down, until I felt my fingers graze against her pubic hair. Trish let out another little gasp as my fingers glided across her clitoris. Moving lower, I cupped my hand over her pussy. It was warm and wet, and I slid my finger between her pussy lips and stroked gently up and down.

"But there's more to your story, isn't there, Brenda?" I asked.

Brenda nodded and continued in a soft voice.

"I discovered to my horror...I discovered...I liked it. I liked it when he did it...when he did it rough with me. I liked it when he treated me like I was some sort of slave. I liked it when he put me over his lap and slapped my ass until it was red. I liked it when he called me his slut and after we'd been out drinking, we'd leave the bar and he'd make me kneel down in the parking lot and service him before he drove me home.

Brenda looked up at us.

"Sorry," she said, "you guys must think I'm some sort of sicko."

"Not at all," I said. Mom nodded in agreement.

"Anyway," Brenda continued, "when I told all that to Larry, he sort of rolled his eyes and looked at me like I was crazy. Maybe that was the beginning of the end of our relationship.

The waiter was returning with our wine and I withdrew my hand from under Trish's skirt. As he uncorked the bottle, his eyes remained fixed on Brenda, her skirt bunched up almost to her waist. He filled our glasses and slowly walked away, as if he was reluctant to leave.

With the waiter gone, I motioned to mom. She understood my hand signal and pulled her jacket open, once again exposing her breasts to us.

Now, I looked at Brenda, and without prompting, her legs parted slightly until Trish and I were looking directly at her pussy. Her lips were red and seemed swollen, and even from six feet away, I could see she was wet, her pussy lips glistening with her juices.

I slid Trish forward on my legs, giving me room to undo my zipper. I reached in my pants and awkwardly pulled out my now hard cock. I put my hands on Trish's hips and pulled her back toward me until I felt her pussy slide warm and wet against my erection. She sighed as I again ran my hand under her skirt and began slowly stroking her pussylips with my fingers.

"Now your turn mom," I said.

"My turn?"

"Your turn to tell us your fantasy," I said.

She opened her mouth to say something, then hesitated, a slight blush crossing her face.

"I'm not sure I..." her voice faded away and her blush deepened.

"Tell us," I said.

As I played with Trish's pussy, she began rocking her hips back and forth in tiny, slow strokes, so that her pussy, pushed tight against me, slid slowly up and down against my cock.

"Alright, let me tell you a story," mom said softly, "about something I've long since put out of my memory."

As she took a sip of her wine, I felt Trish's thighs flex, and her body rose slightly off mine, allowing my cock to spring up. She reached down between us, and I felt her hand on my cock. She guided it to her opening, and I felt her thighs flex again, and in one, long continuous motion, she lowered herself onto me, until my cock was fully inside her, her ass resting on my groin. A small whimper came from the back of her throat, and I let out a low groan. Her cunt squeezed tightly against my cock, tighter than I've ever felt.

Mom watched us intently as she continued her story.

"As you know," she said, "I dropped out of college. The following year, I shared a one-bedroom apartment with another girl. I had some occasional dates then, but my roommate, her name was Jennifer, seemed to have a new boyfriend every week."