Touched Pt. 06

"Answer me." The young woman ordered, squeezing a little bit harder. Gregory shuddered, and Catherine could hardly believe her eyes, Christine's hips were still rocking rhythmically back and forth, she hadn't stopped fucking Gregory this entire time.

"Y-Ugh... Yes." Gregory choked out.

"Good." Christine said smugly, finally letting go of her husband's balls, giving them one final tender swing. "Now it's my turn to come." In one fluid movement she thrust him back down face-first on the bed, keeping his arms crossed behind his back, holding them by the wrists. Her hips really started to move now, Catherine hadn't realized that she'd been holding back. Her daughter-in-law slammed into her son's ass, panting and moaning freely as she fucked him without restraint. Her movements became more and more frenetic and uncontrolled until she finally threw back her head and let out a tortured squeal between tightly clenched teeth. She stayed and exactly that position for almost a minute, her body finally going completely still.

Gregory shuddered and jerked underneath her, but couldn't really escape. After awhile Christine's breathing seemed to return to normal, she let go of her death grip on her husband's hands and pushed him roughly sideways, pulling her strapon out of him in one effortless movement. "You came again." She noted serenely. Catherine could see it too, a fresh oozing gob of thick white semen falling onto the bedspread. "You're hopeless." Christine laughed, gently dragging the rumpled black boyshorts off of Gregory's head and tossing them against his chest. "Put these on, cover up that hot little pussy of yours or I might just need to fuck you one more time." Gregory immediately grabbed the panties and almost fearfully started yanking them up his legs, pulling them into place. They might have been both backwards and inside out, he obviously didn't care.

"Now hurry up and get ready for dinner, I don't want to keep your mother waiting." Christine simpered, casting one backwards glance at Gregory before heading over to her suitcase and rummaging around for some clothes. Catherine just stood there outside the door, holding her breath, her mind trying to make sense of everything she'd seen, trying desperately to process the absurdity, the outright... pornography (there was really no other word for it) that she'd witnessed. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined such a scene, it went so far beyond her most extreme fantasies, that she had to just finally admit to herself that she didn't know how to feel. And yet she was at least able to recognize that this was not the end, but rather a single step along an unknown path. This realization filled her with terror and excitement in equal measure.

Her hand trailed down subconsciously to her waist, her fingers threading their way around her waist, feeling the cool metallic thread of the golden chain around her waist until she came upon the tiny metal key digging pleasantly into her thigh. Obediently she'd kept it on since Christine had fastened it there, and now it felt twice as heavy, twice as hot. It seemed to burn and dig into her tender flesh. Her pussy throbbed in response. She wasn't sure about anything now, but something had been awakened as she'd watched her son submit to his wife. She carried a little piece of that with her everywhere now, her daughter-in-law had planted such an inscrutable seed. Catherine's pussy pulsed ponderously, reminding her of its existence. She'd been so absorbed in the action it had gone mostly unnoticed until now.

The second she moved her lower body she gasped, her inner thighs, her inner legs, all the way down to her ankles were soaked with juice, there was even some inside her shoes. If she'd peed herself, her playsuit probably wouldn't have become more wet than it was now. She was abundantly thankful that it was black and wouldn't show. Momentarily she thought about changing, but then knew at once that Christine wouldn't allow it, nor would she want it. Catherine smiled, her belly filling with a comforting warmth. Christine would tell her to be proud of herself, and praise her for this obscene and excessive indiscretion. She'd feel ashamed of her overly-effluent vagina, but Christine wouldn't like that either.

Just the though of her daughter-in-law chastising her for hating herself made Catherine even wetter, she grunted softly and clutched her hand stiffly to her crotch, feeling the pulsing quicken and the deep persistent vibrations of the Yoni Egg (which was still going), pushing her inexorably closer to orgasm. She tentatively move her head back in front of the cracked door, peering inside. Christine was fully dressed again and helping Gregory button up his shirt, it looked like his hands were shaking. Catherine realized that she needed to go very soon. Breathlessly she pulled away, pivoting quietly and making her way as quickly and as stealthily as possible to the kitchen.

When she got there the island was loaded up with almost every bowl she owned, each one filled with something or other carefully and expertly prepped from their farmer's market expedition. Catherine blushed and smiled, she might have been getting used to her daughter-in-law's unparalleled culinary skills, but she certainly wasn't going to take them for granted. But what were they going to make? There didn't seem to be a recipe book lying around. Catherine ducked her head into the living room, and nearly scoffed with disgust when she saw Henry just sitting there in his easy chair, staring glassy-eyed at the television. There was an open beer by his elbow and he was watching what looked like football replay.

"Unbelievable." Catherine muttered, and to her absolute surprise he actually turned his head and glanced at her, a soft yet mindless smile hanging about his mouth.

"Honey." He murmured, his eyes seeming to spark faintly as he noticed through a haze of alcohol and barking announcer commentary, his wife's alluring new look. Catherine did snort this time, for real. Even a dead man would look twice at this. She thought, smirking as she felt the romper distinctly hugging all her favorite curves. She tried to glare, but it was hard, she could feel the power flowing through her, out of her, all around her, and honestly Henry just looked so helpless and pathetic like a lost little boy. If anything she felt a pang of sympathy. I was like that, just a few days ago. She mused solemnly. If she so chose, Catherine could swoop down like a ferocious avenging eagle, sink her sexual talons deep into the jugular of her husband's terminal complacency, tear him bodily into an erotic world the likes of which he'd never known.

She'd seen her daughter-in-law do it first hand. Men were... Well, they were... Slaves? She tried to come to terms with all these strange new feelings as her arousal continued to build steadily, and her husband stared, the gears slowly but also clearly turning inside his own head, but then a loud piercing whistle blew from somewhere behind the flickering screen, the spark went out, and his head turned numbly back to the television. "Dinner be ready soon?" He asked dumbly, his voice flat and distracted. Catherine fumed for a moment, seething with a rage and a pure hatred that she'd forgotten existed, but then she mastered it. Buoyed out of harm's way by the knowledge she now possessed.

She took a deep breath and felt her body relax, she felt calm and even mildly content. It was her prerogative as a woman to give life, or to take it away. And for now, in this moment, she would choose to take that life all for herself. It was hers, and hers alone, and she would cherish it with all her heart. Henry could watch his TV and rot in that chair, if that's what he thought he wanted. She was a queen and this was her castle. "Soon... Soon enough." She replied coolly, feeling so much more than a mere single word could possibly convey. Then from behind a soft and surprisingly warm hand settled on her bare shoulder, just at the base of her neck. Catherine whirled quickly around, eyes flashing, feeling half her age and ready to strike.

But it was Christine of course, grinning widely, green eyes gushing with amusement. "Soon." She repeated in her higher-pitched musical voice, her eyes briefly flitting over to Henry who she regarded with overt ambivalence before pointedly looking sidelong into her mother-in-law's wide baby blues. Gregory slowly crept past on Catherine's other side, Christine's hand shot out, slapping him vigorously on the butt as he attempted to slip by. He grunted and winced but didn't say anything, instead choosing to settle down rather carefully on the couch next to his father, sullenly nursing a beer of his own. Christine chuckled and flounced back around into the kitchen. "C'mon queen, let's make it happen."

Catherine smirked, feeling a mix of exhilaration and surprise, sometimes it really did seem like Christine could read her mind, but she didn't overthink it. Once more she was caught up in her daughter-in-law's whirlwind. She learned then that they were making pizza, all the bowls were full of toppings, and the ingredients necessary to make a rather gourmet salad. Catherine helped as best she could, still feeling a little out of her depth but not quite as much as before. She was more assertive and took more risks, suggesting they put a few unusual toppings on one of the pizzas. Once everything was in the oven and all the bowls were clean and put away. Both women just sort of congealed around the back of the island. Hip to hip, elbows resting on its smooth granite surface.

"So... What did you think of your son's feminine side?" Christine whispered as she poured herself a small glass of white wine, expression carefully neutral. Catherine blushed hotly, actually surprised that the younger woman hadn't taken a more oblique route to broaching the topic. She'd also managed to temporarily forget the event while they'd been cooking, perhaps she was still mildly in shock.

"I... Felt like I finally understood what you were trying to teach me about men." Catherine breathed, struggling not to pant, her heart was unexpectedly pounding, she could feel the wetness between her legs and the pervasive moistness of the entire lower half of her playsuit acutely.

Crouching down to pull another wine glass out from underneath the island top, the younger woman paused, leaning forward and almost putting her face in Catherine's lap, her nose crinkling delicately. "You... You smell especially good right now." Christine murmured, gently rising back to her feet and handing her mother-in-law the second glass. "Did you... Oh! I... I completely forgot, I turned on the egg to wake you up and forgot to turn it off." She hissed apologetically, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone. But Catherine put out her hand and grabbed her daughter-in-law by the wrist, stopping her from using it. Christine raised her eyebrows bemusedly but reached over and grabbed the wine bottle with her other hand and poured a little into her mother-in-law's glass.

"No... I didn't." Catherine whispered, her eyes saying everything. "But you can't turn it off, not yet, not until I say the magic word." She continued, her eyes shifting down to her daughter-in-law's bust, shy and uncertain in the moment. How assertive was she allowed to be? She still wasn't sure. But she wanted this, she wanted to impress Christine, and she didn't want to break the rules of her daughter-in-law's naughty little game. Christine smirked and raised her glass. The older woman picked up her own and they brought them softly together, releasing a subtle clinking sound that set all of Catherine's nerves on end.

"Right... Your Japanese lesson. I'm not being a very good master tonight am I? Neglecting my duties." Christine shook her head ruefully. "I should thank you for keeping me on task Catherine, although I'd expect nothing less from my star pupil." Her eyes sparkled and she took a sip of her wine. "I was going to wait until later tonight to reveal its definition, but since you've been such a good girl, I think a reward is in order." She leaned forward until their noses were almost touching, her lips still moist and glistening with alcohol, smelling sweetly and faintly of crushed grapes. "Get it right on your first try and I'll show you what it means." She huffed hotly into Catherine's partially open mouth. The older woman swallowed, her knees starting to shake slightly, her pussy aching and threatening to convulse.

"Oh-man-ko." Catherine rasped, her tongue completely dry. The second it was out of mouth she raised her glass to her lips and downed the entire thing in one swallow. Christine just nodded subtly, her finger tapping the screen of her phone. Catherine barely felt the vibrations cease, her crotch was so swollen and buzzing with its own internal chaos. Juice trickled down her legs, the material of her jumpsuit so saturated that it simply couldn't contain any more. Overflowing, a dam about to break. Her mind babbled. Catherine grimaced... If she came now. Oh god! She tried not to imagine it, although she did picture a mop and a bucket.

"Couldn't have said it better myself." Christine said softly, taking the final step forward so that her left leg stepped around the outside of Catherine's right leg, their shoes bumping dully together. Christine's right hand dangled down between them, she turned it facing outward, her fingers curling slightly. "Oh-man-ko." She breathed calmly, looking straight down into her mother-in-law's eyes, Catherine felt ensconced, her daughter-in-law's body seemed to envelop her, but aside from their shoes they weren't touching anywhere else. "This is your ohmanko Catherine." The young woman said, a single finger curling until it touched the incredibly tight and straining crotch of Catherine's romper. It felt like a lightning strike landing directly on her clit. Through the playsuit, through her panties, through her flesh, through everything in a heart beat.

Christine tapped her fingertip lazily against her mother-in-law's mound. Catherine's face contorted until it was unrecognizable, her eyes closed so tight she saw stars, a sob stuck in her throat. "Omanko is... Pussy." Christine repeated, her voice drilling right into the core of Catherine's brain. The gushing splashing sound that followed, like the word, was forever etched into the older woman's memory. Otherwise her mind was completely blank, not even the shadow of a thought haunted that empty white expanse. The orgasm turned her inside out, she sobbed softly, cradled in Christine's arms. The younger woman rocked her lovingly as she spasmed and heaved. Juice poured down her legs, liters it felt like. Her shoes squished when she shuddered.

Christine helped her step out of them, into a prodigious puddle. Her daughter-in-law grabbed a conveniently placed towel hanging off the corner of the island and dropped it between them. Catherine didn't dare to look down. But the younger woman just laughed triumphantly and picked up the bottle of wine off the table, and before Catherine could do or say anything to stop her, Christine had tilted it between them and dumped a generous pour over her tits and Catherine's crotch. "W-What!?" The older woman spluttered. Her daughter-in-law looked her dead in the eyes and smiled.

"You had an accident didn't you just now? You're so clumsy Catherine, you spilled your wine and it got all over both of us." She simpered, almost breaking into a guileless giggle. Catherine gasped, her mind reeling, struggling to keep up with events, her pussy was still pulsing for Christ's sake! Christine leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "We need a cover story for why I'm all wet." She snickered. The buzzing of the oven timer interrupted this cute little moment. Christine turned on one foot, almost slipping on the pool of liquid at their feet, staggered, laughed and stumbled over to the oven. Catherine watched in awe, as the younger woman fished out both pizzas and lay them out on the island. "Supper's ready!" She yelled towards the living room.

Catherine immediately got down on her hands and knees and busied herself with sopping up as much of the puddle as possible before the men arrived. She'd squeezed it out into the sink three times before they finally managed to crawl into the light. As soon as she saw them, bedraggled, drunk, drowsy, Catherine wondered why she'd been so nervous. Without hardly even looking at their two wives Henry and Gregory took plates, loaded them up with pizza and carried them into the dining room. Smirking, on the verge of another laughing fit Christine handed her mother-in-law a plate and took one herself, clicking her tongue as if to say "I told you so." Catherine's legs were still a little wobbly but it wasn't enough of a handicap to stop her from carrying as many beers as she could on her way to the table.

Her daughter-in-law shot her a mischievous grin and grabbed as many as she could carry too. Without a word between them they placed them strategically within reach of their husbands, with an almost coquettish offer to get more if they ran out. Ironically the spilled wine never even came up. The night played out more or less as the one before, aside from a slightly more somber and contemplative atmosphere on the male side of the table. The girls however were having a gay old time, chatting cheerfully about possible plans for the weekend. Apparently there was a circus coming to town and Christine seemed strangely excited about it. "I've never actually been to one before." She finally admitted after Gregory made a comically sullen comment about her having a thing for clowns.

"I guess maybe I do have a thing for clowns, after all I married you didn't I?" She quipped. Under the table however, Catherine and Christine were holding hands, the younger woman was swinging her arm slowly back and forth, squeezing occasionally. They ate pizza and sipped their wine with their free hands, occasionally trading furtive, impish glances. It seemed like the seconds flew by, Catherine's excitement steadily growing again, her pussy seeming to have recovered from its profound ordeal in the kitchen. Eventually they were all done, the empty bottles alone enough to fill up the recycling bin. Christine and Catherine laughed as they cleared the table, their husbands predictably slinking back to their refuge in front of the television.

Catherine almost forgot about them until they dishes were done, and she leaned back around the edge of the archway adjoining the two rooms, reflexively reaching out to turn off the light. "This is almost too easy." Christine murmured, walking quietly up behind her mother-in-law and then pulling her slowly into her arms. "I think it really says something when men are this ambivalent about sleeping in their own beds." Catherine looked carefully between her sleeping son and husband, both of them blissfully passed out in front of the flickering screen.

She felt a strange mix of affection and repugnance. While she still had strong feelings for both of them, she had also lost a great deal of respect. Of course she knew that Christine had orchestrated some of what had transpired, but try as she might Catherine couldn't quite blame her daughter-in-law for everything. No, if anything, she was grateful. Grateful for the reality check, for exposing what had been going on for far too long right in front of her nose; grateful for opening her eyes to what needed to be changed, and opening her mind to what she herself was capable of.

It irked her a little to admit it, but the younger woman wasn't entirely wrong. Neither Henry nor Gregory had made any effort whatsoever to resist the urge to drink each other under the table for the third night in a row. For a young man like Gregory it was almost excusable, but her husband Henry should have known better, should have been a better role model.