My Gay Friend's Hot Mum

*

"So what was it like?" Imogen asked at school the next day. "Was Josh's house and family really weird?"

"Not weird so much," I said. "I didn't meet his younger brother and sister, but I did meet his Mum."

"What was she like?"

"A bit flighty. I think she and Josh disagree on a few things sometimes."

"Really, that's it?" Imogen looked disappointed.

Before I could say any more Matthew appeared, his face filled with delight at seeing me. "Hi Sophie, how are you?" he yelled out through the corridor, giving me a massive wave and other kids of course laughing at him and at me.

We had the Economics test that Josh had helped me to study for, but because our study session had been so disrupted that the best I could manage was a C minus.

"I can't believe you got a C minus when I helped you study," said Josh when I told him.

"It didn't exactly go that well," I said, recalling how Josh was so stressed out when I unexpectedly met his mother.

"No," agreed Josh. "Would you like to go through some things again?"

"Yes, thanks Josh; that would be such a help. Would you like me to come to your house again like last week?"

Josh looked worried. "No, um maybe we could go someplace else?"

I laughed. "You're worried about me seeing your mother again, aren't you?"

Josh nodded. "Um, maybe a little."

"Come on, I liked your Mum. She's nice, very friendly."

"Too friendly at times," grumbled Josh. "At least she didn't scare you away, not like what happened with Mitchell and his parents."

"Who's Mitchell?" Josh had never mentioned having a friend called Mitchell before.

"He was a guy I was friends with. He was a gymnast, and I really liked him, and I got the impression he liked me too. Mitchell's Mum and Dad were really great, they were encouraging of him and accepting of him being gay, really progressive. Things were going so well, then came the dinner with both of us, Mitchell's parents and of course Mum."

"It didn't go well, I take it?"

"Put my mother into almost any situation and things don't go so well. She turns up at the restaurant wearing this micro mini-skirt so short she might as well have worn the pelmet from the curtains and decides that a good ice-breaker is to tell the joke about the gay sperm whale."

"What's the joke about the gay sperm whale?" I hadn't heard of this joke before.

Josh sighed. "What did the gay sperm whale do when it saw the submarine?"

I shook my head. "I don't know."

"It sucked out all the seamen."

I just collapsed in stitches at the punchline, unable to stop giggling. "Yeah, it's really funny Sophie," said Josh peevishly. "You and my mother seem to have the same sense of humor, perhaps you could both form a two woman comedy show and take it all over Australia and New Zealand?"

"Sorry, but the joke was funny, Josh."

"Mitchell and his parents didn't think so. I got the 'I'll call you' line from him and I haven't seen him or his parents since then."

"Do you think Kiera and Jason will be there? I'm dying to meet your younger brother and sister."

Josh gave me a thin smile. "Be careful what you wish for Sophie. It might come true."

*

My wish indeed did come true when Josh and I turned into his street, and the twins appeared directly in front of his. "Hi Jason, hi Kiera," said Josh, giving his brother and sister a friendly wave.

"Josh, who is she?" Kiera asked, pointing directly at me, staring at me without blinking.

"Kiera, where are your manners?" Josh admonished his younger sister. "This is my friend Sophie."

"Sophie!" exclaimed Jason, in a voice that would have served well as a public address system. "You're the girl who's been hanging out with my gay brother lately. Are you a fag hag?"

"Jason, why don't you speak a bit louder, I don't think that people in Sunshine, Werribee or Frankston quite heard what you just said," complained Josh.

"What is she doing here?" Kiera demanded, still staring at me.

"Kiara, zip it or learn to be polite," Josh warned.

"Sophie, why do you hang out with gay guys like my brother?" Jason wanted to know. "You're good looking, you could go out with any guy you wanted, and you pick him?" Jason pointed at his brother.

"Jason, get on your bike and get out of here," said Josh.

"Would if I could, but I can't," said the boy.

"Where is your BMX anyway?" Josh asked.

"Up a tree," said Jason bluntly.

"Okay, I was just asking, there's no need to be sarcastic," Josh responded.

"No, it really is up a tree, down near the creek. That's why we were looking for you, to help us get it down."

"Just one question Jason, how did your BMX get up a tree at the creek?"

Jason seemed to think about it. "I was practicing a few things for the BMX competition next week, and it kind of went out from under me and up the tree."

"Did you throw the bike in the air celebrating like Mum and I have told you not to do in the past?"

Jason and Kiera looked sheepish. "No, not really," was Jason's response.

"God, its hard being a member of this family," said the despairing Josh. "Okay, I'll come and get it down for you but be more careful in the future."

"Did you want me to come down there with you?" I asked.

Josh shook his head. "No, why don't you go inside and say hello to my Mum as you seem to get along well with her? Hopefully I won't be too long."

"Okay, thanks Josh," I said.

As I made my way towards the house I heard Josh say to his younger brother and sister, "Mum and I have told you two not to go so close to the creek, especially when the water is running like today. Plus there's crocodiles."

Kiera's response showed derision. "Oh, come off it Josh, do you think we're babies and believe you and Mum's stupid stories about crocodiles in Melbourne?"

Walking into the house, I expected to see Chelsea Levitt in the living room, but there was no sign of her today. "Hi Chelsea, it's just Sophie, Josh's friend," I called out.

No response, so I decided to take my school bag to Josh's bedroom. As I rounded the corner, my heart skipped a beat as Chelsea came around from the opposite direction and we nearly collided. She was listening to a Walkman, the earphones making it clear why she hadn't heard my greeting.

Chelsea let out a squeal of shock, and my eyes went wide as I looked downwards. Chelsea was wearing a purple jumper and tight blue jeans, but her jeans were not pulled up and fastened, they were down around her ankles along with a pair of white bikini-brief panties, Chelsea walking awkwardly on her bare feet. My eyes flitted to Chelsea's crotch, and I was unable to prevent myself from seeing the curls of blonde pubic hair that covered her feminine mound, before Chelsea put her hand down there to cover her genitals.

"Chelsea, I'm sorry -- Josh said to come in, I didn't mean to startle you or see you when you're um, like this."

Chelsea removed her earphones. "No Sophie, you don't need to apologize. I was sitting on the loo listening to music, and I ran out of toilet paper halfway through and was on my way to get some more. I didn't know you'd come in. Actually, maybe you could get me some more loo paper from the hallway storage cupboard?" Chelsea pointed at the door.

"I'll get you some," I said, trying not to look at Chelsea's pubic hair nor the two tattoos she sported above this, one of a magpie and the other of a black swan.

"Thanks Sophie. If you knock on the door, I'll open it and you can pass it through to me," said Chelsea. "Right now, as you can see, there's only one place I should be, and that place is sitting on the toilet."

Chelsea turned and shuffled on her bare feet back towards the toilet, her jeans and her knickers down around her ankles. I was unable to prevent myself from stealing a look at the firm cheeks of Chelsea's bare bottom, loving the wonderful sight of her buttocks. Just above where Chelsea's arse-crack started I could see a butterfly tattoo on her lower back, sometimes referred to as a tramp stamp. My panties began to get damp at the sight, before Chelsea went back into the loo and closed the door and I went to get her more toilet paper.

Taking a new toilet roll from the storage cupboard, I walked back to where the lavatory was located and knocked on the closed door.

"Breathe through your mouth, Sophie!" Chelsea giggled as she responded to my knock. "It does not smell nice in here, believe me."

I expected Chelsea to open the door a short way and her hand to emerge to take the toilet roll, much like the time Mum had to rescue me when I was in that predicament. However, Chelsea opened the door right open and my eyes bulged out of their sockets. Chelsea's legs were open, not wide but enough for me to see the slip, pink lips of her vagina. Chelsea's lowered white knickers were also more visible now than they had been previously, and on her panty saddle I could not help but notice her cream-colored feminine stains on the double cotton.

Chelsea made no attempt to close her legs, simply reaching out to take the new roll of toilet paper from me. "Thank you so much Sophie!" she gushed, taking her new loo paper and closing the toilet door.

With the mental images of Chelsea's panties, her pubic hair, her vagina and her bare bottom firmly ingrained in my imagination, I turned and went back to the living room, waiting either for Josh and the twins to return or for Chelsea to finish on the toilet.

It was Chelsea who returned first. I heard her flush the toilet, then the faint sounds of her washing her hands before she returned, adjusting her knickers through her tight jeans.

"I am so sorry about that Sophie, talk about embarrassing for both of us!" Chelsea giggled.

"No that's okay, it's happened to me, it's happened to my friend Imogen, I think every woman has run out of toilet paper halfway through at one time or another," I said, trying to remain calm unlike my clitoris, which was making the cotton saddle of my panties damp as I thought about Chelsea in her state of partial nudity.

"You know one good thing?" Chelsea said. "That it wasn't Josh that came around the corner like that rather than you. I think he might have died of embarrassment."

"Yes, I think he would," I said. This would have been true. If Josh had been confronted by the sight of his mother with her jeans and her panties around her ankles, then had to get her more toilet paper and pass it to her as she sat on the loo with her legs open showing off her genitals, I think he would have run away so fast that in an hour's time he would have been in Sydney or in Adelaide depending on which direction he had taken flight, still running.

"Josh carried on like a big drama queen one time when I took him and the twins out for a picnic and there wasn't any toilet paper in the ladies room. All I asked him was to get me the tissues out of the car, and he was so embarrassed."

I had heard this same story from Josh but in his version of events his mother had made a fool of herself giving too much information. Chelsea's version of the story was much less detailed. So did this happen the way Josh recounted it, the way Chelsea recounted it or did the actual truth fall somewhere between the two? I decided on option three, but said nothing.

"Where are Josh, Jason and Kiera anyway?" Chelsea asked.

"They went to run an errand, Josh said for me to come inside and wait." I didn't elaborate on the errand being removing a BMX bike from a tree.

Chelsea came and sat beside me. "If Josh was the one who had walked in when I was having my toilet paper problem and saw me half naked, my father would have some Freudian theory about how there are no accidents, and how it was caused by some sort of subconscious thought process by both of us."

"You were saying last week that he analyses everything he sees and hears according to Freud?" I asked.

"Yes, that's for sure," said Chelsea. "When Dad dies, we'll find his notes and no doubt theories about how his grandson Josh is gay because he was initially envious of his mother having a vagina and he didn't, this envy turned to fear and therefore a rejection of females as potential mating partners as an adult. Dad was impossible growing up. Whenever I was in trouble, he would sit me down and talk to me for hours about how my subconscious desires led me to misbehave and how did I now feel about my actions and how they had affected other people? I would have preferred to get grounded, sent to my room or even spanked."

Doctor Jim Levitt sounded like a very strange man from what both his grandson and his daughter described, and I hoped not to be meeting the psychiatrist any time soon.

"Then there's my mother, the pediatrician with no warmth to actual children, not even her own," said Chelsea. "Actually, part of the reason I might have forgotten to check that I had enough loo paper was that I had been arguing with Mum about the twins over the phone just before I went to the toilet and was distracted."

"It's interesting how your parents and brother are all doctors," I said. "And when you were kids growing up if there was ever a medical emergency help was at hand 24-7." I thought having a doctor as a parent would have been good if there was a problem.

Chelsea laughed. "It doesn't always work that way, Sophie. Have you ever heard how a painter's house needs redecorating, how a landscaper's garden is overgrown or how an accountant's personal finances are in a mess?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"It worked the same with my parents," said Chelsea. "Imagine an ordinary suburban house in Melbourne in 1973 one evening where the two parents, their 13-year-old son and 11-year-old daughter are watching TV. The 11-year-old daughter gets up and goes to the toilet, then a minute later screams, comes running back into the living room crying and in a blind panic, yelling that she needs an ambulance because she's bleeding and doesn't understand what's happening to her because her mother hasn't told her about menstruation."

I was shocked that this had happened to Chelsea, given that the event described had taken place in 1973, not 1943 or 1953 when it would have been more understandable. And given both parents were doctors -- the mother a pediatrician who had published a paper on premature puberty in girls -- this made it all the more terrible for poor Chelsea.

"Chelsea, I'm so sorry, that must have been an awful experience for you," I said. "Mum had told me about periods before I started mine so when it happened I knew what it was, but I was still scared and I did cry."

"Yeah, two doctors with the mother a pediatrician and their young daughter doesn't know what a period is before she has one and gets absolutely freaked," said Chelsea. "Five years later Mum was the one who freaked when I missed two periods in a row, and then presented her and Dad with their grandson about seven months after that."

Chelsea paused and laughed lightly. "Mind you, they must have done things right on one side. My brother Andrew was the perfect straight-A student, never put a foot wrong, went to university and graduated as a doctor with the highest honors. Andrew was the good kid, I was the kid who always got herself in some sort of trouble, yet we had the same parents. Andrew didn't get so drunk in a park aged 12 that he ended up in the children's hospital with alcoholic poisoning, obviously he didn't become a parent at 16, and he married a nice respectable female doctor when he grew up, not like me who married a loser drunk who took off to worship UFOs."

I had met a couple of kids like that once. The sister was a straight A student who did everything right, the brother was always in trouble and ended up getting kicked out of school. Chelsea certainly sounded like she had had a fairly wild adolescence.

"Anyway, that's enough talking about me and my weird family," said Chelsea. "Sophie, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since I met you, and how pretty you are. I take it you're Italian by your surname?"

I nodded in affirmation. "That's right."

"You definitely look Italian, but there's something else too."

"My Mum is of Burmese origin."

"So, you're Eurasian then Sophie? That explains why you're so nice looking. If humans are ever selectively bred in the future, perhaps mixing Burmese and Italian would be a good combination, because it works so well with you. I can't remember the last time I met such a pretty girl, if a toymaker wanted to make a doll of a perfect human, he could probably use you as his model, Sophie."

I giggled and blushed at Chelsea's praise. "I don't know about that, I'm not that pretty," I said shyly.

"Don't be so modest, Sophie," said Chelsea. It was then that I felt Chelsea's hand on my knee, stroking me gently just below the hem of my school skirt. "You are beautiful, when you meet the right guy for you, he'll be the luckiest guy in the world."

I was rigid at Chelsea's touch to my leg, and I didn't know what to make of it. Was Chelsea simply a touchy-feely sort of person, or was there something sexual in the gesture? I assumed the first option, given that Josh had said how much his mother liked men, but inside my panties my vagina wasn't listening and I could feel my clitoris tingling and the cotton fabric of my knickers getting wet between my legs.

"The only guy who likes me at the moment is a guy at my school," I said. "He's a real nerd, he annoys me by following me around and asking me dumb questions. Everybody laughs at me."

Chelsea laughed. "I had the exact same thing happen to me when I was your age. This fat guy had a crush on me and would follow me around school like a dog with his tongue hanging out, couldn't work out I wasn't interested. I would have been up in the night with my young son teething, and the fat guy would be asking me dumb questions at school the next day. He could never work out that a tired Chelsea meant a cranky Chelsea."

In all the time Chelsea had been speaking, her hand had not moved from my knee, and my fanny was making my knickers so wet if almost felt like I was on my period.

The sound of the front door opening broke me out of my trance, and Chelsea removed her hand from my knee. We heard Josh's voice, and the voices of the two younger kids squabbling.

"Sophie, are you ready for economics?" Josh called out.

"You'd better go, strict schoolteacher Josh might give you detention if you don't pay attention in your study session Sophie," giggled Chelsea as her eldest son entered the room, Josh's glare and deep sigh indicating that he did not appreciate his mother's sense of humor.

Again, I tried to concentrate on economics, but I couldn't stop thinking about seeing far more of Chelsea than I had ever thought I would, her flattery of me and her putting her hand on my knee just below the knee of my school skirt. I thought I would masturbate in bed that night over seeing Chelsea's blonde pubic hair, vagina and bare bottom as well as her panties, but was tired and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

However, I awoke shortly after midnight, the rain falling outside adding to my need to pee. I swung my bare feet out of bed and walked to the toilet. With the lavatory door closed and locked, I lifted my over-sized tee-shirt, pulled my white knickers down to my ankles and sat barefoot on the toilet, my pee stream making a tinkling sound in the bowl as I urinated. Unwinding three sheets of toilet paper from the roll, I wiped my wet pussy and remained sitting on the toilet, not because I needed to empty my bowels, but because my imagination was running rampant.

In my mind's eye, the toilet door opened and in walked Chelsea, Josh's mother very much liking the sight of me sitting on the loo with my knickers down around my ankles and my pubic hair and my vagina on display. I squirmed my bare bottom on the toilet seat, and like any horny teenage girl I employed the obvious solution, putting my hand into my crotch and inserting my fingers into my aroused vagina.