My Gay Friend's Hot Mum

*

On Thursday afternoon, I had a shift at the video rental store, wearing the store's blue shirt and a pair of cargo pants and was working behind the front counter wishing I could see Chelsea sooner rather than later, when to my utter astonishment my wish came true.

The front door of the shop opened, and in walked Chelsea, her petite figure looking so good in a white jumper and an ankle-length skirt with big pink flowers. She looked over the store, saw me at the counter and waved, before walking in my direction.

"Hi Sophie, how are you today," she gushed, me noticing some boys browsing through the shelves looking at the attractive blonde who had entered the store.

"Really good thanks Chelsea," I said, wondering what she was doing here when it was miles from where she lived.

"I called your house to talk to you, your brother said you were at work here," said Chelsea. I thought how it made a nice change from him telling everyone who called the house that I was using the toilet.

"Were you interested in a membership, or our special offers this week?" I asked.

Chelsea shook her head. "No thanks, I'm already a member of a video shop locally. I wanted to ask you if you had any plans this Saturday."

Saturday was in fact a free day for me. I wasn't rostered to work that day, Imogen and her boyfriend were out all day with their families, our other friends had commitments and Josh had already told me he was working all day. "I'm actually free all day."

"Great," said Chelsea, in her girlish and enthusiastic voice. "Reason I ask is, I won a trip for two to a beauty spa at a work function a few weeks ago. It's very good from what I've heard. You have a massage, a sauna, a spa batch, a facial, a manicure and a pedicure. Would you like to come along with me? It's in Prahran, so not very far. Afterwards, perhaps we can have lunch in the city? Josh is working, and Jason and Kiera are spending the day with Mum and Dad, lucky kids."

This sounded great. "Thanks so much Chelsea, I'd love to come."

"Brilliant, we'll have a great girls' day out together," said Chelsea. "I always imagined doing something like that with Josh's girlfriend when he got old enough to have one, but obviously that's not going to happen." Chelsea laughed, and we arranged the time she would pick me up on Saturday.

"Oh, and don't tell Josh, he'd get a bit funny about me and you hanging out together, he'd be paranoid about me telling embarrassing stories from his childhood."

"I won't tell him Chelsea," I promised.

From behind Chelsea, there came an impatient sigh of a young man named Ryan who I instantly recognized. Surly and rude, Ryan's only video rentals were from a small room aside from the main shelves, a room I was not permitted to enter before I turned 18 earlier in the year.

"Come on, what's taking so long?" grumbled Ryan, who stood with a lesbian-themed adult video in his hand.

Chelsea turned to him, fixing him a glare with her blue eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, am I holding you up from getting home to watch your lesbian sex video so well-acted by semi-literate, attention-seeking bimbos faking it?"

Chelsea's voice carried, and an old lady renting a video about cake decorating, two teenage girls and a young family renting G-rated animated videos for their children looked at Ryan who blushed bright red and looked at the ceiling, then the floor.

"I'll see you on Saturday morning, then Sophie? And don't forget to bring your bathers."

"Yes, see you then, Chelsea," I said, unable to keep myself from looking at the beautiful blonde's bum in her long floral skirt as she turned and departed the video shop, and Ryan unable to look me in the eye, his expression sheepish as he paid for his porno video and hurried out of the video shop.

*

I didn't tell anyone I was meeting Chelsea on Saturday morning, but dressed nicely in a black jumper, short flowery skirt, black stockings and black flat-heeled shoes, carrying my bathers in a shoulder bag.

"You look very nice Sophie," Dad said as I left the house. "Are you doing anything special today?"

I replied casually. "Oh, just meeting a friend for lunch."

"Yeah, her gay friend Josh," came my younger brother's voice.

"No, not Josh, Kevin," I said, feeling exasperated.

"Another homo?" Kevin asked.

"Kevin, if you want to clean out the garden shed today, you're going about it the right way," Dad warned him, this threat preventing my brother from opening his big mouth anymore, and I was able to make my way to the small shopping center nearby where Chelsea and I had arranged to meet.

It was a cloudy, cold and wet Melbourne Saturday, and I put up my umbrella to protect me from the drizzle as I waited for Chelsea's car to arrive, feeling very relieved as I got into the vehicle when it pulled into the parking space.

"So, have you ever been to a spa before?" Chelsea asked me as she drove towards the city.

I had been thinking how nice Chelsea looked dressed in a large white jumper, black stirrup-pants and black flat-heeled shoes just like mine, and shook my head to her question. "No."

"Well, we're in for a treat if the brochure is anything to go by," said Chelsea.

The roads leading down to Prahran were quite busy this Saturday morning, the traffic worse given the persistent rain that fell from Melbourne's grey clouds. I had had my license over a year now, but still felt nervous about driving in the Melbourne CBD and inner-city suburbs. There were trams and associated hook-turns to turn right, narrow streets and busy traffic, with the main city streets such as Collins, Lonsdale and Flinders Streets intimidating for any driver, much less one as inexperienced as me.

One thing I did notice about Chelsea's driving was how often she changed gears, and each time she did her hand would see to slip from the gear stick to my knee, sliding against the fabric of my stockings. It was similar to the situation the other day, where Chelsea had put her hand on my leg? Did it mean anything? Probably not, it was just my over-active teenage imagination kicking in again.

Prahran, with its very narrow streets and tramlines was another tricky place to drive, and a place I would normally avoid driving, Imogen feeling the same. However Chelsea was not in the slightest bit bothered by the traffic either on the way there or in the busy traffic in Prahran itself. I was most impressed by her confident driving, Chelsea not intimidated by the narrow roads, wet driving conditions or trams and when we reached the spa, had no problems reversing her car into a tight little spot.

I was filled with admiration at Chelsea's driving skills and wished that I could drive as well as her. I then reminded myself that Chelsea wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary -- simply driving a car -- and that she was older than me by 16 years and obviously way more experienced, but still I was impressed.

As Chelsea and I got out of her car, I wasn't as careful or lady-like as I should have been, and my legs came open, Chelsea obviously able to see up my short skirt and to my white knickers with multi-colored stars on them. That Chelsea might have caught a glimpse of my panties while I was getting out of the car excited me and caused the now-familiar feeling of getting wet between my legs, but I reminded myself that as Chelsea like myself was obviously a woman, seeing my knickers probably interested her as much as seeing curtain fabric. This wasn't the case for me and I couldn't stop myself checking out the cheeks of Chelsea's bum as we walked to the day spa. I could see her panty lines through her stirrup pants, and couldn't stop thinking about what color Chelsea's panties might be.

Inside the day spa, Chelsea and I were handed white toweling robes and went to change into our bathers in an area that was much like the changing room of a clothing shop. In my cubicle, I took off my jumper, my tee-shirt, my skirt and my shoes and looked at my underwear clad reflection, my breasts filling the cups of my white bra, my white panties with the colored stars and my stocking clad legs.

Reaching up to my left thigh I rolled down my stocking on this leg, and then did the same with my right leg. I unclasped my bra and allowed my breasts to fall free, then hooked my thumbs into my knickers and pulled them down, before bending down to pick up my panties from my bare feet on the floor.

In doing so, I could see my bum reflected in the mirror, and with my legs apart I could see my vagina and my anus. I thought about how I wished it was Chelsea looking at my pussy and my arse and liking what she saw, but then reminded myself that Chelsea was probably as sexually excited by my genitals as she was by my elbows.

I kept thinking about Chelsea getting undressed in her own cubicle, and thought about how great it would be to climb my naked form up and watch her change and observe her petite little figure in a complete state of nudity, but then reprimanded myself for thinking about a woman who was treating me to a nice day out in such a way.

Still, between my legs my pussy wasn't listening and getting very wet, the smell of my feminine arousal becoming obvious. Reaching into my bag I took out my period emergency kit and got the tissues, which I always kept in case I was in a situation where there was no toilet paper. Getting a pink tissue, I put it between my legs, circling my vulva with it until my dampness was gone and the smell was only on the tissue.

Returning my period kit to my bag, I took out my bathers, a pink bikini, and put it on. Looking down, I could see the indentation of my vagina in the front, and hoped I would see Chelsea's pussy indent in her bathers too.

Chelsea and I stepped out of our cubicles, and I could see that like me Chelsea wore a bikini, only hers was pale blue in color, and to my delight the shape of her vagina was discernable in her crotch. The shape of Chelsea's nipples were visible in her bikini top thanks to the cool temperature and she put on her white robe, me doing the same with mine.

We had each been given keys for lockers to put our belongings in, and as we put our clothes and bags into the lockers assigned Chelsea's knickers fell out of her hands and onto the floor.

"That's great, throwing my knickers around all over the place," Chelsea giggled, before she picked up her panties -- white bikini-style panties with yellow leg elastic and yellow flowers -- and returning them to her locker.

Simply seeing Chelsea's undies caused my clitoris to tingle, and this continued as we walked barefoot into the main area to commence our day spas. We started with manicures and pedicures, then went for our massages, taking off our robes as we entered this room.

My massage was applied by a German guy called Fritz, and Chelsea's by an Asian guy called Lachlan. They were both clearly gay, the campy Fritz gushing over Chelsea and I, saying how pretty we were. Lying on a massage table, Chelsea on the table next to me, I felt Fritz's expert hands upon me, my pussy responding to his touch and to the sight of Chelsea having her petite little bikini-clad body massaged by Lachlan on the next table.

After out massages were completed, it was sauna time in a beautiful and exotically decorated Turkish bath. As Chelsea and I sat in the steamy room in our bikinis I admired every part of her petite form, from her blonde hair down to her bare feet and the hot wetness in my bikini bottoms was not only caused by sweat.

Our morning at the beauty spa finished with a session in a hot tub, relaxing in the warm bubbly water, me noticing Chelsea lift one of her legs out of the water and wriggle her bare toes and I did the same. I could have happily spent all day in there, but all good things come to an end I felt kind of sorry when we emerged from the day spa and onto Prahran's crowed and wet streets, dressed in our ordinary clothes.

"That was so great, thank you so much Chelsea," I said as my older companion put up her umbrella.

"It was my pleasure, Sophie," said Chelsea, as we walked to her car. "I feel so relaxed after being pampered all morning, how about you?"

"I definitely feel relaxed," I said, Chelsea holding the umbrella over my head as I got into the car, before Chelsea went around to the driver's side and climbed in herself, starting her car and pulling out of the parking spot.

At the intersection, Chelsea looked up at the distinctive clock tower of Prahran's town hall. "I know it's wet, but how about we go for a walk at the beach before lunch? St. Kilda isn't too far from here."

"That sound's great," I said, pleased to be going anywhere with Chelsea.

"St. Kilda Beach it is then, Sophie," said Chelsea, heading towards the beach, turning on the radio as she did so, the cheerful sounds of the new British group the Spice Girls filling the car.

"That's is my daughter's favorite song," Chelsea observed. "Kiera loves this group."

"They are kind of catchy," I said.

"Yes, when I hear them they get stuck in my head all day," said Chelsea. "But I think Kiera had better make the most of them, I think the Spice Girls will be a one hit wonder for sure."

"Me too," I agreed, thinking about the number of bands and solo artists from the UK or Europe who had burst onto the pop scene in recent years, only to fade back into obscurity after one or two hits.

Arriving at St. Kilda, we walked through the parkland dominated by the tall palm trees, which looked out of place on a grey, wet and cool Melbourne day like this Saturday. The tall buildings of Melbourne's CBD were visible in the distance; the Rialto, several office towers on Bourke Street and at Southbank, and the art deco-style towers to the eastern end of Collins Street most prominent of all of Melbourne's skyscrapers.

With Chelsea's umbrella protecting us from the persistent rain, we walked along St Kilda's iconic pier, the choppy grey waters of Port Phillip Bay flowing underneath us. I liked being so close to Chelsea and wished we were holding hands, but of course this was not possible. Looking west through the drizzle, Williamstown was visible across the bay.

"That's where my ex-husband got abducted by a UFO," Chelsea giggled as she pointed towards the suburb, before we made our way back to her car.

"Now to get some lunch," said Chelsea. "There's a really nice place I recently discovered in the city, a café at Melbourne Central. How about we go there?"

"Yes please," I said, again getting into Chelsea's car, me again aware that with my short skirt, I must have shown my knickers to Chelsea as I climbed inside.

Chelsea drove up St. Kilda Road towards the city, but rather than drive across the Princes Bridge she turned off near the Domain and parked near the Yarra River.

"There's never any parking further up, and the traffic is always so busy around Melbourne Central," said Chelsea. "Plus, one time I forgot you aren't allowed to drive on Swanston Street any more, until there was a police car behind me."

"Did you get fined?" I asked, knowing one of my cousins had copped a hefty fine after making the same mistake one day.

Chelsea laughed. "If I'd been a man they would have booked me. However they were two nice young male police officers, and I fluttered my eyelashes a bit and they let me off with a warning. But I wouldn't chance driving on Swanston Street, the next cops might be some old fat guy who doesn't want to be there and some young girl who does everything to the letter of the law. Anyway, I always enjoy walking along Swanston Street, even in the rain like today."

We crossed the Princes Bridge over the Yarra and were opposite the Flinders Street train station when the rain without warning became heavier, turning from drizzle to deluge in seconds. "What was that I said about enjoying a walk in the rain?" Chelsea laughed. "Let's cheat."

She pointed at one of the many trams that made its way up and down Swanston Street and St. Kilda Road every day, and we hopped on board one that carried us through the teeming rain to Melbourne Central, an interesting place that combined an underground train station, a distinctive office tower black in color with two aerials on its roof and a multi-level shopping center under a large glass cone.

It was in the main shopping center that one of the main attractions was located, a large musical clock in the shape of a pocket watch that every hour would chime and the bottom of the clock would open and out would come a marionette display of Australian Sulphur-crested cockatoos and pink and grey galahs, that would dance around as the clock played 'Waltzing Matilda'.

As Chelsea and I passed the clock, we heard it chiming one and like many people, both Melbourne locals and tourists from overseas and interstate, stopped to watch as the robotic birds did their thing.

"I love that clock, even though I've seen it so many times I always have to stop and watch those pretty birds dancing around," said Chelsea.

"I love it too," I said. "I love birds."

"Me as well," said Chelsea. "Although Josh not so much. You know one time when he was little, I took him to the zoo at Royal Park and he tried to make friends with a pelican. But the pelican didn't want to be friends and chased Josh with its bill open, hissing. I had my camera and was trying to take a picture of my little boy standing near a pelican, what I actually got was a photo of my son face-down in the mud, crying and an angry pelican standing over him. Josh hates me telling anyone that story or showing anyone that photo. I once showed it to the twins, Jason and Kiera gave him shit about if for weeks and Josh still hasn't forgiven me to this day."

I was still laughing at the mental images of a younger Josh getting chased by the pelican, and only composed myself as Chelsea and I went into the café she had recommended and we had lunch together. The rain outside still persisted, so again we took the tram back to Flinders Street Station, and walked to the car park near the Yarra, returning to Chelsea's car and driving back to her place.

"I can't thank you enough for such a great day out together," I said as I sat on Chelsea's living room couch, while Chelsea went into the kitchen.

"Yes you can," said Chelsea. "By not telling my son that I showed you this."

She returned with an old polaroid photograph, the colors dating it to the very early 1980s and it showed a much younger Josh on his stomach on the muddy grass at the zoo, his face etched in terror, tears streaming down his face as the angry pelican, bill open and wings outstretched, showed Josh what it thought of people who went too close to its territory. The photo was even funnier than the mental images I had when Chelsea told me the story, and again I descended into a fit of the giggles.

"I saw how much you were laughing when I told you about it, so I thought you'd like to see the real thing," said Chelsea, as she sat beside me. I noticed that her legs were open, and in the fabric of her tight black stirrup-pants, I could see the indentation of her vagina.

"I wish I could go back in time and see the real thing," I said, before placing the photo down on the coffee table.

"Josh probably thought that left on my own today, I called up one or more of my men friends and was entertaining them in my bedroom," said Chelsea. Again, her hand moved to my leg and stopped on my thigh, just below the hem of my short black skirt, and as I had several times in the past, I pondered if Chelsea was simply a touchy-feely sort of person or if there was more to this, especially given what she was talking about.

"My son thinks I'm obsessed by guys," said Chelsea. "And to be fair, I have been with my fair share of guys. Josh would never believe that I spent a fun girls' day out with his pretty female friend Sophie, no guys in sight apart from the two homosexuals at the day spa."