My Gay Friend's Hot Mum

"Maybe he knew you kind of liked him, didn't feel the same way, and said it so as not to hurt your feelings?"

"It's possible, but it's such a big lie for such a small thing. I've had guys who liked me and I didn't feel the same way, and had to tell them."

Imogen laughed. "That's the story of your life so far, Sophie."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"I can also tell you that one of those guys is headed right your way."

I turned as I heard Matthew's voice. "Hi Sophie!"

Matthew was approaching, a huge smile on his face, giving me a big wave, drawing the attention -- and amusement -- of other students. "Hi Matthew," I said, managing to be polite.

"Isn't it a nice day today?" he said, as Melbourne's grey skies released heavier torrents of rain.

"I guess," I said, again maintaining politeness to the geek with the huge crush on me. He always embarrassed me by saying such dumb things in his awkward way, a love-sick expression on his face whenever I was in sight. Like in the spring last year, Imogen and I caught colds -- pretty bad colds -- and were off school sick for the entire week. Returning on the Monday morning, I was carrying tissues and coughing like I had TB and smoked two packets of cigarettes a day, and Matthew had asked me, "Did you have a cold, Sophie?" Imogen's similar symptoms, however, didn't even seem to register with him.

"What do you have first period?"

Matthew, Imogen and I had been in the same class on Wednesday morning all term. "Calculus."

"Me too!" exclaimed Matthew. "Why don't we walk there together?"

"Okay." Matthew was oblivious to my lack of interest and walked with me and Imogen. I could see Imogen was highly amused by my embarrassment, but to Matthew she might as well have been invisible, and nothing more than my imaginary friend. Lucky Imogen.

It was that weekend that Imogen and I finally found the absolute proof that Josh was indeed gay. We went into a sport store, and the guy who served us was such a hunk; tall, handsome, tanned, fit and muscular, looking so hot in his shirt and shorts. Inside my knickers my fanny reacted immediately, and my panty fabric became damp from where my undies rested against my vagina. With a tingling clitoris and increasingly sticky panties I felt a bit breathless, and while Imogen obviously had a serious boyfriend, I think in Imogen's own knickers her vagina was behaving the same way.

We left the store and Josh said to us, "Now if I was thinking about my absolute dream guy come to life, the guy in the sports store would be him." As no straight guy would ever say anything like that, this seemed to be the 'smoking gun', that proved that Josh was indeed gay.

But while this mystery about Josh was now solved, one other and larger mystery remained that was not going to be so easy to solve. By now the first term holidays were over and we were back at school, and wearing our winter uniforms. But with Melbourne being Melbourne, we were having a 32-degree autumn day with a high temperature early in the morning, and Imogen and I were sweating in our winter school uniforms -- long sleeve blouse, blazer, tartan, knee length skirt, tie and jacket, the Mary Jane shoes and white ankle socks still the same as with our summer uniforms.

Both Imogen and I needed to visit the loo before first period, so went into the girls' bathroom, the long room with stall after stall crowded with many girls who like us needed to heed the call of nature. Imogen and I chose two stalls next to each other and went in, closing and locking the doors behind us. In my stall, I checked for toilet paper, then lifted my skirt, pulled my white bikini-style floral panties down to my ankles and sat down on the toilet, getting myself comfortable on the seat.

In the adjacent cubicle, I noticed under the dividing wall that Imogen had also pulled down her knickers to her ankles and sat on the toilet, observing that while we both wore flowery white bikini-style knickers, the flowers on my knickers were pink while Imogen's knickers had blue flowers.

Both Imogen and I began to pee, the sounds echoing in the girls' bathroom. We then remained sitting on the toilets to empty our bowels, and continued a conversation we had been having on the way to school.

"It is strange that Josh has never invited you to go back to his house, but there must be a reasonable explanation," said Imogen, me hearing her unwinding and rustling toilet paper as she spoke.

I unwound a piece of toilet paper of my own. "Yeah Imogen, but not long after we met Josh called me and said it was best that I didn't call his house."

"Did he ever say why?"

"Just that his mum worked odd hours."

"Well that makes sense, if Josh's mother works as a nurse or a police officer or something she'd be working shifts, and perhaps he doesn't want to wake her when she's asleep. Has Josh ever said what his mother does for a living?"

I shook my head. "No, never once. He doesn't like to talk about her all that much."

"That is a bit strange. How much do you know about Josh's family?"

"Very little. I know he's got a younger half brother and sister -- Jason and Kiara -- and they're twins and aged about ten, but he doesn't seem to like to talk about them either."

"Has he ever mentioned a father, or a step-father?"

"No, from the limited things Josh has told me, it's just him and his mother and brother and sister. He's never spoken about a father or stepfather."

"Well, maybe it's a bit more complicated for Josh?" Imogen suggested. "It's much easier for both of us, we're from perfect nuclear families -- mother, father, son and daughter. If Josh had a family break-up when he was younger and his parents divorced, it might be hard for him to talk about?"

I looked down at my lowered knickers as I got more toilet paper to finish on the loo. "Yeah, but every time I mention his family, Josh looks worried and changes the subject. What's the harm in me asking what his mum does for a living, what his younger siblings are like or about his grandparents or other extended family?"

Now finished, I stood up off the toilet, pulled up my knickers and adjusted them around my vagina and bottom, then smoothed down my school skirt. Putting down the lid I flushed the toilet and exited the stall, heading for the sink to wash my hands. I had a bit of a wedgie on the way there, my knickers riding up into my bum, and adjusted them through my school skirt before washing my hands and drying them on a paper towel.

"Sophie, I'll just be a minute or two more," said Imogen from in her stall.

"Sure, I'll just wait out here," I said, standing by the sinks waiting for Imogen to finish using the toilet.

"Lots of families are more complicated," said Imogen, continuing our conversation. "Perhaps Josh's mother is some sort of religious zealot, disapproves of him being gay and they don't get along?"

"Yes, but in that case why is Josh open about being gay? If his mum was like that, then surely he would have stayed in the closet?"

Inside her stall, I heard Imogen unwinding herself more loo paper, then her flush the toilet. The lock on Imogen's bathroom stall changed from the red engaged position to the green vacant position and she emerged, like me previously adjusting her knickers through her skirt on her way to wash her hands.

"I'm sure I'll find out about Josh's family sooner or later, but it drives me crazy that it all seems to be such a big secret," I said, as Imogen dried her hands. "Are they in witness protection? Is Josh's mother an international spy with ASIO or a secret agent?"

Imogen laughed as we made our way out of the girls' toilet block. "I don't think so Sophie, but you've got a very vivid imagination. We all have secrets, maybe Josh just likes to keep his family a secret?"

What Imogen had said was true, but I wished that Matthew was better at keeping his feelings about me secret. When Imogen and I had emerged from the girls' loo, he was coming the other way, his nerdy face filling with delight before he waved and yelled "Hi Sophie!" giving me a huge wave as other students laughed both at him and at me.

All day I pondered about Josh's secrets, and thought about my own deepest secret, one I had never disclosed to anyone. Certainly not my best friend Imogen, nor my mother, who would have freaked at her teenage daughter having these thoughts.

My secret locked deep inside my brain made me look forward to last period gym class and not because I was sports minded or because it was a fine and sunny day. Imogen took our sports gear and joined our classmates in changing out of our regular school uniforms and into our sports uniforms.

With some guilt although my pussy didn't seem to be listening, I discretely watched Imogen get undressed as I was doing the same. My clitoris tingled and I got damp between my legs as we got down to our underwear, and stood barefoot wearing our bras and panties. My heart raced as Imogen reached behind herself and unclasped her bra, pulling it away to show her young, milky white breasts and I was so distracted that I struggled to unclasp and remove my own bra and expose the swarthy skin of my own bare breasts.

Then Imogen took her panties by the elastic waistband and pulled them down her shapely legs, stepping her bare feet out of them and picking them up off the floor. I could see that the double cotton saddle of Imogen's knickers had creamy-colored stains from her vagina self-cleansing during the day, and this made me even hotter between my legs, even though the cotton saddle of my own knickers bore the same stains as I took these off.

I looked down at my own full bush of dark pubic hair, then at Imogen's red bush of pubic hair that covered her mound. My mouth watered as the completely nude Imogen bent over slightly to retrieve her sports briefs, the fair skin of her bare bottom perfect and her legs slightly apart to show Imogen's fanny. I acted completely innocent and Imogen suspected nothing as she dropped her sports bra onto the floor and bent over more to show her tight little anus when her butt-cheeks parted.

Imogen's genitals and entrance to her bowels were only on display for a few seconds of course as both Imogen and I dressed for PE. Not only did I look at Imogen, but I also checked out our other hot 18-year-old classmates getting ready for gym. I mentally reprimanded myself, and reminded myself that I was a girl and had the same junk as them down there, but could not stop myself getting turned on.

It was the same outside as I saw boobs bouncing up and down in shirts, and our shower time after class was a delight. I watched Imogen under the shower next to me, soap and water flowing down her fair skin over her boobs, down her shapely legs and to her bare feet on the shower floor. I was doing the same, although the white soap against my swarthy Eurasian skin contrasted more than the fair skin of redhead Imogen.

Dressing and going home, I kept my poker face and disclosed nothing of what was going through my mind. My early night that night was not caused by tiredness, but my wish to indulge in solitary pleasures under my bed covers.

Putting a towel under my bum so as not to get any pussy juice on my sheets if I got too wet, I pulled back my oversized tee-shirt, pulled my lemon-colored cotton panties to my thighs, opened my legs and felt the delight as my fingers went through my pubes, into my crotch and to my fanny, already nice and moist from anticipation.

My fingers got sticky as I circled my clitoris, the toes of my bare feet clenching on the sheets as I masturbated and my imagination took me back to the girls' change-room at school, and Imogen getting undressed and showering. I extended one finger away from my damp vagina and to my anus, the delight from between my legs increasing as I stimulated the most private area of my body, the opening to my rectum. Inside my tee-shirt, I felt my nipples harden and tingle.

With my beautiful best friend and our other nubile classmates in my mind's eye and me masturbating my vagina and my anus, orgasm came quickly. My waves of pleasure from my pussy travelled between my legs and into my bowels, the muscles in my rectum tightening as I came with a sticky rush, stifling my feminine squeal of delight.

The air under my bed covers smelled of pussy, as did my fingers as I withdrew them from my crotch, got tissues and cleaned my genitals, before pulling up my knickers to cover my post orgasmic pussy. I smelled my fingers and the sticky tissues, absorbing my feminine scent deep into my nostrils.

With my knickers now up and comfortable, I was now thinking more logically and reasonably as I waited for sleep to come. There was no way I was a lesbian, I liked guys. When I thought about my future I thought about being married with two or three kids, a house in Melbourne's suburbs with a cat and a dog. I had never even thought about dating another woman, and it seemed unrealistic. The only sexual activity I had had in my life had been with my former boyfriend. Was I bisexual? Maybe, or maybe not.

I loved Imogen like I would a best friend, yet something about her turned me on. Maybe it was a scientific curiosity thing, Irish-origin redhead Imogen and Eurasian-origin me couldn't have been more different in looks, but still there was curiosity and then there was curiosity.

A few weeks earlier I had been studying at Imogen's and we were in her bedroom when she went to the toilet, and I had to fight the urge to go to Imogen's laundry hamper, take a pair of her worn panties and smell the crotch. While I didn't give into my desires, when Imogen got back I went to the loo and as I sat on the toilet pulled up my own knickers to the knees, leaned forward and smelled the scent left by my own vulva, fantasizing that these were Imogen's knickers and it was her vulva I could smell.

There was no way I would act on my secret desires, it had to remain a secret, just like the way Josh kept his family life secret. My imaginative mind turned to this, thinking up a thousand reasons why Josh was so secretive about his family, before sleep overcame me. The lids closed over my brown eyes, and I drifted away to sleep.

*

My curiosity about what Josh's house was like only lasted another week. I was on the phone to him complaining about my least favorite subject Economics. Really I shouldn't have picked it -- I was more a science person -- but it was too late now, VCE year and I had to improve my grades in this subject.

"I like economics, how about you come over to my place after school tomorrow and we can study together for an hour?" Josh suggested.

I was stunned. "You're asking me to come to your house?"

"You sound surprised, Sophie," Josh said.

"Well, I've never been to your house in all the time we've known each other."

Josh didn't clarify any reason for this but said, "I'll meet you at the tram stop and walk with you there. Catch you tomorrow, Sophie."

"See you then Josh," I said, still disbelieving that I was actually going to a place that Josh seemed determined to keep me from ever visiting.

"Perhaps Josh will blindfold you so you can't see where you're going, and then blindfold you again when you leave so you don't know the address," Imogen suggested when I told her at school that day.

I laughed. "Maybe."

"Well make sure you tell me about what his house is like, I can't wait to hear," said Imogen.

"I will," I promised, my imaginative mind thinking of a thousand ways Josh's house might be strange on the tram on the way there.

When I reached the stop I saw Josh waiting for me. Alighting from the tram, I said, "Thanks for helping me with economics, Josh."

"It's no problem at all, I'm always happy to help a damsel in distress," said Josh. "My house is a short walk from here, but we'd better hurry, we've only got an hour."

"An hour exactly?" I laughed. "What happens here, is there a curfew that kicks in at the exact same time every afternoon in this suburb?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," said Josh. He blushed.

"It's just that every time we've talked about this, you always say an hour exactly, not 'about an hour.' Why such precision?"

I could see Josh was uncomfortable with my question, and quickly changed the subject. "So, did you have a good day at school today, Sophie?"

No good was ever going to come from me asking him why he was so keen to get me to his house as quickly as he could and out by a precise time, so I said nothing more and just played along with his usual 'let's change the subject' strategy.

We turned into the street, and Josh led me into the garden of Number 4. "So this is my house."

"It's a nice house," I observed. I had thought the house might be an absolute dump or really weird and embarrassing such as being painted bright pink given Josh's aversion to bringing me or Imogen here in the past, but it was just an ordinary suburban house in an ordinary suburb of Melbourne, the dwelling and the garden neat and well maintained.

"Now remember, we only have a short time and a lot to study," Josh warned me as he took out his house keys, sounding more like a tutor rather than a fellow VCE student.

"I promise, I'll be good," I said.

Josh opened the front door and looked into the front living room. He stopped short, all color draining from his skin, a look of panic on his handsome face. His reaction was enough to alarm me and put me on edge. Was there a group of burglars dressed in stripy jumpers, balaclavas and carrying guns ransacking the house?

Fortunately there were no burglars. There was a person sitting in an armchair in the living room, a pretty and petite young woman wearing a pink baby-doll dress over a white tee-shirt, white sneakers and ankle socks on her feet, clothes I often wore myself. The young woman had silky, platinum-blonde hair that cascaded down to her shoulders and she read a romance novel, looking up from the book as Josh and I entered. I was confused, Josh had only ever mentioned a younger sister before, never an older one.

The beautiful young woman put down her novel and leaped to her feet, her knees opening slightly as she got up from her seat, her legs opening slightly as she did so, showing that she was wearing white knickers. I saw Josh cringe, blush and look at the ceiling as the blonde's panties came into our view, but this was only momentary as she got to her feet and smoothed down her baby-doll dress.

Now on her feet, I could see how petite the young blonde woman was, I guessed four feet eleven, five feet at most. She smiled, and coupled with her sparkling blue eyes so much like Josh's made her even prettier. The mystery blonde opened her mouth, and her voice revealed an unmistakable broad Australian accent, with a high-pitched, girlish pitch.

"Josh, you never fail to surprise me. I think one thing about you, and they you go around smuggling pretty Catholic schoolgirls into the house when you think I'm out?"

Josh's expression showed his embarrassment. He blushed and shook his head, unable to speak.

"Talk about rude, you have no manners to make a simple introduction," the young blonde giggled, before turning to me and extended her hand. "Hi, I'm Chelsea, Josh's mother."

I think my mouth physically dropped open, and I was unable to speak. How could this young woman be Josh's mother she was just -- well -- simply too young. Was she just fooling around with me?

"I'm Sophie -- Sophie Caselli -- Josh's friend and it's nice to meet you Mrs. Levitt," I managed to stammer.

"Please call me Chelsea, and it's so nice to finally meet you Sophie, I so rarely get to meet any of my son's friends," said Chelsea. "I've seen your photograph -- you and Josh were at a regatta with your red-haired friend Imogen -- but Josh didn't say much about you other than your names and how pretty you both are and he's not wrong there."