The Adventures of a Slut Mommie Ch. 01

How could I say no? What a hypocrite that would make me. It's okay for Johnny's mother to strip to almost naked and pose for his camera, but not his sister? So, forcing a smile on my face, my innards in turmoil, I said, "Sure, baby. Have you got a suitable bikini to wear?"

Kirsty's face fell, "Oh," she said, disappointed. "No. I only have the conservative black one-piece you bought me last year."

I grinned, "Do you remember that gorgeous, revealing black one-piece you admired but were too shy to buy?" Kirsty nodded. Taking it out of my drawer, I handed it to her and said, "I may have bought it. You know, just in case you changed your mind."

"Mom!" Kirsty delightedly squealed, the first 'o' and second 'm' drawn way out. "It's perfect!"

Eagerly stripping, Kirsty handed the outfit back to me and asked me to help her into it. The suit was virtually two pieces held together by several gold-plated rings. The bottom barely covered my daughter's pudenda before splaying across to her hips, then becoming three golden O rings that connected to the top and a thin strip that went around her back, barely above her glutes, with an even narrower strip dipped between Kirsty's ass cheeks to rejoin the rest of the bottom.

The top piece consisted of two thin strips in a bow around her neck, spreading to two thin bands barely covering her areolae, then minimally below my daughter's globes, they connected to the three rings.

Kirsty looked as sexy as all hell in this outfit, but I thought her breasts could be better displayed, so without thinking, I undid the bow, cupped and lifted her left breast into the position I wanted, then retied the bow before cupping and lifting her right breast to match. Looking at my daughter's lusciously curved body deliciously displayed in my full-length mirror, the raging furnace inside my pussy threatened to explode. Unwittingly, as my desire flamed, I slid my hands back inside the suit's cups and began stroking and tweaking Kirsty's nipples.

Leaning against me, Kirsty's head tilted back, and she moaned, "Mom? What are you doing?"

Unaware of what I was doing, I absently continued circling and stroking my daughter's areolae. My eyes were distant, and seeing nothing but flickered images of a naked, hugely breasted blonde woman lying between my lewdly splayed legs lapping at my pussy as I held her head and thrust my hips. In my vision, I groaned as a seemingly unending orgasm made me shudder and twitch.

"Mom?" Kirsty panted, an orgasm near.

Not answering as my mind flickered... image: as I recline on the couch, slender, long, red nailed manicured fingers lift my dress above my head and cast it aside,... my right hand slid across her curved tummy... flicker: image: soft, feminine hands cup my swelling mounds and thumbs strum my nipples... inside her suit's bottom... flicker: image: Pouting, bright red lipstick covered lips descend onto my right nipple, and suckle then bite,... and onto her clit.... Flicker: image: My eyes open, and I see Edgar Fontaine laughing as I orgasm on his secretary's tongue. I try to protest, but his deep, compelling voice says, "Sleep."

"Mom!" My daughter yelped as I fingered her button.

Kirsty's sudden yelp cleared my mind, and I looked down, horrified at what I was doing. My left hand cupped my daughter's breast, strumming her nipple with my thumb as my right delved inside her swimsuit bottom and slowly circled her clit. Stepping hurriedly back, my hands leaving her lush body, I burst into tears, hating myself and what I'd become.

Touching my shoulder, Kirsty said, "Mom?" I couldn't look at her. "Mom?" She asked again. Then when I still didn't answer, she said, "It's okay, Mommie, I liked it. Your hands felt good on me. I was shocked, is all, but now I'm only sorry I didn't let you make me cum."

My suppressed sniffles turned to sobs which became great, heaving blubbers. Turning, I lowered my head onto my daughter's shoulder as if I were the child needing her mother's help and affection and wept, "I'm so sorry, Kirsty. I don't know what came over me. It's just that you look so beautiful and desirable, and I wanted to make you feel good."

"You did make me feel good, Mom," Kirsty soothed as she kissed my cheek and hugged me close, her warm breasts pressing to mine, and despite everything, that tingle reappeared. Then Kirsty hitched twice as she tried to speak again. "Mom, look at me, please." Unwillingly, I lifted my teary face to see her. "I'm still a virgin, Mom. You petting me as you did, was my very first makeout session where I let anyone get to second base. I want to, Mom. Oh, Lawd, do I want to! But I'm scared I'll get pregnant on my first time like you did. I'm too young to have a baby, Mom."

"You're on the pill, baby," I reassured her. "You shouldn't get pregnant when you find the right guy to make love to."

"You shouldn't have, either, Mom," my daughter pointed out. "Yet, here we are."

"I have no regrets," I swiftly said. "You, Johnny, and your dad are my life, and I'm proud of my life." But I wondered if that was now true. I'd already done one despicable thing, molested my daughter, and my urges were already pleading with me to do more.

Johnny knocked on the door, "You guys almost ready?" He called through the door. "I've been waiting for ages."

"Give us another ten minutes," Kirsty answered for me. "We need to do our makeup."

Of course, makeup and other 'feminine things' are a mystery to most males, so my son accepted Kirsty's statement without question.

"Come on, Mom," my daughter said, dragging me into the en suite. "You need to wash your pretty face, and then we'll get you made up." Kirsty opened my makeup case and took out moisturiser, eyeliner, mascara and an eyebrow pencil. Once I'd cleaned my face, she expertly smoothed the moisturiser into my skin, outlined my eyes with a thick charcoal pencil, shaded my already dark eyebrows to black and applied mascara until my lashes arced beautifully from my lids.

Finishing my look with mahogany lipstick, she asked, "Where's that string bikini Johnny wants you to wear?" Only then did I realise I'd been naked with her the whole time. Kirsty had to have smelt my arousal and noticed my pointy hard nipples.

I retrieved it from the drawer where it had lain next to the one Kirsty wore and shimmied the bottoms up my thighs, realising I'd put some weight on since I last wore it. Kirsty laughed and undid the bows on its sides so I could work it into place. I had a similar problem with the top. My breasts were heavier and fuller than when I was thirty, plus they sagged more. 'Maybe I should follow Patrick's suggestion and lay off the wine.' I muttered to myself.

"Thank gawd, Mom, but you and I will never be one of those skinny salad eating bitches," my daughter said as she reassured me she thought my fuller figure was sexier. "However, you are a gorgeous MILF, and all my friend's brothers agree you're the hottest there is. Johnny, too, probably."

Kirsty returned the favour of adjusting my swimsuit to display my breasts correctly, including cupping them and playing with my nipples. Fortunately, we faced away from the mirror, so she didn't see the longing arousal displayed on my expressive face. However, I protested how Kirsty had adjusted my bikini bottom. She'd pulled it so tight that my slit, clit and entrance (camel toe) lewdly showed. The thin piece of material was barely wider than my slit, to begin with, so pulling the ties until it outlined everything was too much, I thought.

I moved my hands to undo the side bows and release the tension, but my daughter hissed, "Don't you dare change that. Camel toes are hot, Mommie. Johnny will shit when he sees yours."

"It is not my intention to turn your brother on, baby girl," I haughtily told her as I tried to undo the ties, only to have my hands slapped again.

"Too late," Kirsty muttered. "As soon as he saw me after he caught you masturbating, he told me how hot you were and how he wished you weren't his mother so he could fuck you."

I caught little more than snippets of my daughter's mutterings, so I asked, "I didn't catch that, Kirsty. What did you say?"

"Never mind, Mom," she airily replied. "Leave your bottoms as they are, and let's go see what Johnny wants us to do."

Shrugging, I opened the wardrobe, took out my white pumps with the 7-inch heels and slipped them on my feet. Looking downcast, my daughter said, "Oh, Mom, those look sexy. Shame that I don't have a matching black pair."

Grinning, I reached in, pulled out my 7-inch black pair, handed them to her, and said, "Luckily, I do!"

I had to teach my daughter how to walk down the stairs in heels (turn your hips to the side and place your foot parallel to the step, not ninety degrees to), but reaching the bottom, we hip-swayed across the drive and into our four car garage, where my son waited.

Peering into the viewfinder of his camera, Johnny bitched, "Took you long enough! I've been waiting an hour."

Flipping into 'mom' mode, I replied evenly, "Johnny, neither your sister nor I, have to pose for you. So, improve your attitude, or we're going inside to change into something less revealing and be damned with your photos."

"Sorry, Mom," my son immediately said. "It's just that I've been looking forward to this all day, and I'm feeling impatient, okay?"

"Johnny," I growled, now in full Mom mode. "I'm hearing 'I want, I want'. When did that ever work out for you?"

Finally pulling his eyes away from his viewfinder, Johnny looked us over and gasped, "Oh, my Lawd! Kirsty, I... I don't know what to say. Sis, you look, you know, hot. As in, 'red hot bitch'! And Mom, I mean... Wow!"

Which was fair enough. My tiny string bikini covered little and left much displayed, so, yeah, 'Wow!' covered it!

"Where do you want us?" I asked, wanting to get this show on the road so I could lie on my bed and think about my day.

Furiously thinking, my son said, "One at a time, at first. Mom, lean against my bike and place your hands behind your back. One on the tank and one on the seat, then look to your left and smile as if you know a secret no one else knows."

I took up Johnny's requested pose and tried my best to look suitably amused as I looked to the left.

"Look up, Mom," Johnny requested. But the first thing I noticed was that the camera's lens appeared to be pointing at my breasts, not my face.

"Johnny? Are you taking pictures of your mother's breasts?" I asked.

Blushing, my son denied it. However, I saw the zoom lens wind back in before he took another photo. Johnny moved me through various poses, most of which were typically modest poses you'd expect for a motorcycle magazine or an ad for a brand of motorcycle. Only a few were even remotely erotic, like when he asked me to sit on the motorcycle seat's edge with my knees spread wide, then lean back on my hands and toss my hair.

Strangely, posing for the more erotic photos in front of my handsome son and eagerly watching daughter made that tingle reappear, and I worried my arousal would soak through my bikini bottom and show.

Deciding he'd taken enough of me for now, Johnny posed his sister through a series of similar shots. I was happily unhappy if that makes sense. I hadn't been sure of my son's motives when he first asked me to pose as I suspected he wanted to see more of me as I was earlier today when he had twice walked in on me, so I was grateful Johnny posed me innocently. However, the insistent tingling, as it rose to settle on my clit and vulva, insisted I wanted to show my children more. I wanted Johnny to lose all sense of himself and unknowingly take his thick cock in his hand again as he stared at my barely covered slit.

As my little button throbbed, I realised I wanted my daughter to see my sexily displayed body and desire it. I wanted to knead and squeeze her perfectly formed breasts as her virtually untouched nipples hardened in my fingers. I desired to feel my hand glide across her smooth stomach and mound until my questing fingers found her virginally pure clitoris, and as her arousal grew and wetness formed under my stroking fingers, play with it. Overcome by the sexy, illicit, incestuous images playing through my fevered mind, I leaned back against my Audi's door and climaxed.

I could not stifle my moan and saw my son turn toward me. Then, from a million miles away, I hear Johnny say, "Oh, wow, Mom! That is so sexy!" He took the camera off its tripod and swivelled around, the camera clicking as he captured what he saw.

I looked down to see what my son was so eagerly capturing. As I'd feared, my wetness had made my bikini bottom translucent, and my flushed, almost brown clit showed clearly. "Johnny, no!" I pleaded. "You shouldn't be taking pictures of your mother's pussy." But my protest sounded weak, even to me, and as Johnny, squatting, duck walked closer, I widened my feet and spread my knees, letting myself lower so my knees flexed and the firm muscles in my calves and thighs popped.

"Perfect, Mom," Johnny complimented. "You're getting into it now." He moved a couple of steps further back and stood. "Fold your left arm across your tummy and cup your right breast, Mom," Johnny instructed. As I obeyed, I heard, "Good. Yes. Just like that. Now slide your right hand down your stomach until your middle finger is just inside the top of your bikini."

'Katie,' my conscious pleaded. 'Stop this. Stop it right now before you go too far. You always go too far, Katie. That's what got you pregnant in the first place. If you'd kept your damned knickers on, you wouldn't be here now.'

But then my daughter gushed, "Oh Gawd, Mom! You look amazing! Way sexier than any model posed like this I've ever seen. Oh, man! I'm so jelly of how you look!" And I paid no more heed to that whining inner voice.

Wanting to please my kids, I brought my heels together, squatted down with my back against the car's door, and spread my knees as wide as possible. Looking to the left and up, I ran my left fingers into my luscious locks and lifted them so they cascaded over my neck and right shoulder. Then affecting a pouting, demure look, I placed the dark red painted fingernail on my right index finger between my sexily smiling, lush lips and lightly bit it.

"Hot, Mom," my son crooned as he lay on the floor and zoomed in on my barely covered vagina. "You're so hot. Oh, my lawd, are you hot!" Johnny's praise and enthusiasm had my conscience quelled, so I offered no complaint as he moved the camera close to my pussy and snapped away. Standing, Johnny turned to his sister and said, "Sit between Mom's legs and lean back against her with your head just under her boobs."

Kirsty sat where he asked. "Now lift and spread your knees like Mom has hers. Yeah, sis. That's it, like that. Good. Wrap your arms outside your knees and grab your shins, holding your knees as wide as possible. Sexy, Kirsty," Johnny mumbles. "You look very sexy for the camera. Mom, toss your head back and shake it so your hair falls naturally around your neck and shoulders as it typically does. Oh, that's beautiful. I've always loved your hair, Mom."

Johnny's complimentary, praiseful words had me on the edge, and I feared that my daughter could feel my wet arousal pressing against her mid back as she leaned against me. But worse was I knew that in my current state, I'd do anything Johnny asked.

Trying to be casual, Johnny moved from the floor where he'd been as intently snapping Kirsty's barely covered pussy as he had mine, stood and said, "Kirsty, tilt your head back and look up at Mom. Yes, good, like that, yeah." Then he gulped and apprehensively said, "Mom, bend your left elbow below Kirsty's boobs and cup her right breast."

Watching my son's hooded eyes and large package throb in his trousers, I couldn't help but do as he asked. But as the furnace in my pussy raged, I wanted to go further, so when he said, "Good, Mom, Kirsty. Oh, my Gawd, you two look sexy together. Mom, slide your hand slowly down Kirsty's tummy and stop with your fingertips just short of her mound." I did, but before he could give the next instruction, I slid my left hand inside Kirsty's swimsuit cups and softly stroked my fingers over her nipple.

"Mooom," my daughter sighed and kissed under my chin as my fingers delicately played with her stiff breast nubs.

Johnny was speechless and had stopped taking photos. Instead, he watched my sensual display, his mouth agape and dick throbbing. As I'd fantasised, my son's hand unawarely found his big, erect package and gripped it firmly.

About to orgasm, I gritted my teeth and forced my voice to sound normal. "Johnny, you've stopped taking pictures."

"Oh," my son said, releasing his cock and looking into the viewfinder. The clicks of photos being taken resumed. When I heard the tell-tale clicks, I smiled coquettishly at him as I slid my fingers inside Kirsty's swimsuit bottom and onto her button.

Kirsty sighed luxuriantly, turned her head and kissed my jaw. As I stroked, my daughter's sighs changed to pants, and I was sure she was about to climax. But before she popped over the edge, Johnny grabbed his trouser front again and groaned, "Oh, shit!" A dark wet spot swiftly grew where he held. Embarrassed, he shot "Sorry' back over his shoulder and ran from the garage.

Brought out of my trance-like state by his leaving, I looked down and realised what I was doing. Snatching my hands back, I pushed Kirsty aside and stood up. "Oh, my Gawd! Oh, my Gawd!" I gasped. "Kirsty, I'm so sorry! I, I, oh Lawd, what have I done? Forgive me, please!" I hurried out of the garage after my fleeing son, tears streaming down my face.

Locking the door, I flung myself onto the bed and pushed my mortified, guilty face into my pillow as I cried and cried, terrified that my daughter could never forgive me. Unable to find solace, I ignored the knocks on my door as I stared at the ceiling, wondering if it wouldn't be better just to die.

"Mom," Johnny called after trying the door. Holding the pillow over my face so he wouldn't hear my tears, I didn't answer. "Mom?" He called again. "You okay?"

I didn't, couldn't answer. I was a 'bad mommie'. One of those you see on the news from time to time being led away in handcuffs as Child Services gathered her abused children. I don't know how long I lay there staring at the ceiling hating myself, before my daughter knocked on the door, insisting I let her in.

With my red eyes refusing to meet her big brown ones, I opened the door and let Kirsty past me before I shut and locked the door again. Turning, I threw myself on the bed, pushed my tear-streaked, mortified face into the pillow, and waited for my daughter to rightfully condemn me.

"Whatever is the matter, Mommie?" Kirsty asked. "Are you embarrassed because Johnny came looking at us playing model for him? That's silly, as even Johnny has nothing to be embarrassed about. Young men have those kinds of accidents all the time."

I wondered, 'Why isn't she upset with what I did? I molested her in front of her brother. Her mother, who should always have her back and be there for her regardless, felt her up and played with her genitals as her brother took pictures. What kind of pervert does that make me? 'An incestuous one', my guilty conscience informed me.'

"I did it again, Kirsty," I wailed. "Felt you up and played with you. I'm disgusting, and you should be disgusted with me. I'm sorry, baby, but when you're close, I can't seem to stop myself. I'll understand if you hate me forever because I deserve it."

Kirsty took hold of my head and forced me to face her. She kissed my lips softly and said, "I don't hate you, Mom. I liked what you were doing and was about to cum, but that damned Johnny interrupted me. I swear, if I don't get to orgasm next time I'm that close, I will scream!"