Chapter Thirty-four -- Independent Study I
"What _ARE_ you doing, mother!" Jennifer demanded.
"Trying to get ready for my date with your dad," Darlene sighed.
"Parents dating is stupid."
"I once thought so, too," Darlene admitted, going through her lingerie drawer
looking for something sexy but different.
"I guess it's kinda' rad'."
"What? What's rad'? I've figured out that 'rad' is radical but is that good?"
"Real good," Jennifer informed her mother.
"So exact what is it that's rad'?"
"That you and dad still love each other and still go out on dates and stuff.
It's like, well, you know. So... whatever. I mean, like, well, you know."
Darlene waited patiently for her teenage daughter to compose her thoughts,
resisting the urge to say 'No, I don't know' or to criticize her. It took a few
minutes before Jennifer finally spoke clearly and seriously. "Most of my
friends' parents are divorced. And most of the rest of the ones that aren't
divorced probably should be 'cause they fight all the time. But you and dad,
you're, well, you know, still in love."
"It takes work," Darlene smiled. "And understanding and communication and a lot
of other things."
"Like sex," Jennifer snickered, giggling and covering her mouth.
"Like sex," Darlene acknowledged. "And I definitely like sex."
"Why?"
"Lots of reasons. It feels good, it..."
"What feels good? Like kissing and stuff?"
"Yes, kissing feels good. So, are you kissing boys these days?" mom asked
casually. A glance at her daughter's blush gave her a clue. "So, who was or is
going to be first?"
"I'd rather not say."
"OK. So, is it time we had a birds and bees talk?"
"That depends on what you mean by birds and bees," her daughter answered
evasively.
"I mean penises and vaginas and ovum and sperm," Darlene grinned. "Or cocks,
pussies, eggs and cum, if you prefer."
"You're not supposed to talk like that."
"Why not?" Darlene asked lightly, still going through her lingerie drawer but
finding nothing that seemed right. Then she headed to the closet to move one
hanger after another.
"You said! You said I shouldn't say 'fuck' and 'cocksucker' and words like that.
You even spanked me."
"That was years ago, when you were a little kid. If you were acting like a
little kid right now, the words wouldn't be appropriate, but if I said the word
fellatio, would you know what I meant?"
"Yeah, cock sucking," Jennifer answered, proud of her knowledge.
"Right," Darlene agreed, concealing her surprise that her 13-year-old daughter
had even heard the word, much less knew what it meant. Then she laughed. "When I
heard about cock sucking and finally decided to try it, I thought that you
really sucked and I sucked like I was trying to suck all the air out of a
plastic milk jug. Your dad just about died."
"I bet," she agreed. "So did his balls collapse?"
"Fallopian tubes aren't wide open like a soda straw," Darlene explained.
"Remember the other parts of the male sex organs?"
"The seminal vesicles, ah. Urine-etha?"
"Urethra. Not bad. Can we get serious a minute?"
"If we have to," Jennifer sighed, rolling her eyes.
"Yeah, I've got to turn this into one of those horrid mother and daughter
talks," Darlene groaned, showing that she wasn't totally comfortable either.
"But I want you to grow up healthy and strong and I definitely don't want to
have to deal with a pregnant teenager or even worse, to have you come down with
AIDS. So, how do you know about cock sucking?"
"Reading and stuff."
"Oh? And where are you reading about cock sucking?"
"A friend's house."
"So what did you read? I don't remember words like that in Woman's Day or even
Playboy."
"One of my friends swipes her dad's Penthouse Variations magazines sometimes,
and we read them and stuff," Jennifer told her mother.
Another clue, Darlene grinned to herself. Probably Kathy's dad. Once again,
Darlene waited patiently and was rewarded.
"But isn't it gross? Yicky?"
"No, not if the man's clean," Darlene told her daughter, mentally cautioning
herself, 'Not yet. No lectures. Don't spoil this.'
"What if he's not."
"Then it can smell pretty gross."
"But what if he pees?"
"I can tell you from experience that peeing is just about the last thing on a
man's mind when he's getting a good blow job," Darlene said. "Or even a bad one.
Guys can be pretty gross. I've heard 'em say, 'There's no such thing as a bad
blow job. Some are just better than others'."
"But... What if he does think about peeing? And if he does! Yuk!" "I don't think
a guy can even pee when he's completely turned on and hard," Darlene informed
Jennifer. "There's a valve or something that cuts off the pee when a guy's
turned on so he can't pee into your vagina and give you an infection or hurt
your baby. At least I think there is, a valve, I mean."
"Oh."
"Ready for the lecture part of this?" Darlene asked when the silence grew long.
"I guess."
"Or did I interrupt your thoughts and you have more questions."
"You can't get pregnant from a blow job, can you?"
"Back to birds and bees," Darlene chuckled. "So tell me how babies are made."
"The penis penetrates the vagina and ejaculates sperm which travel up to the
uterus where a sperm penetrates the outside of an ovum that came down the, ah,
fallopian, no, yeah, it is fallopian tubes in the woman and then the DNA
combines with the DNA in the egg and the egg, which is one cell, starts
splitting and wah-lah, baby."
"I bet you got an 'A' in junior high sex ed'," Darlene laughed.
"Well you guys signed that I had to go to the family life classes."
"True. OK, so now let's answer your question. Is there any way for a sperm to
get from your mouth to your vagina?"
"I don't think so."
"You're right. Actually, stomach acid would kill all the little buggers. The
sperm, I mean. Unfortunately, even if you can't get pregnant, blow jobs aren't a
good idea until you're married or at least in a mutually monogamous
relationship."
"In other words, living together."
"Not necessarily," Darlene cautioned. "From our conversation here, I'm guessing
that you're already experimenting with sex, which scares the everlovin's out of
me, or at least you're thinking about it. So here's the lecture part. I don't
want you... No, that's not strong enough. Jennifer, don't let a penis into your
mouth, vagina, or anus..."
"Now that's really gross."
"You said you've read Variations magazine. I know they have articles that talk
about anal sex."
"And there's web sites... Oops."
Now Darlene laughed out loud. "Boys and girls snuck peeks at pornographic
magazines and pictures before I was born and I looked at Playboys and Playgirls
and even some worse magazines when I was a teenager and it didn't warp me. At
least not too much. Your dad and I even talked about putting a block on the
computer, but we figured that you kids would just take one look, say 'yuk', and
then move on to something else. I guess I was wrong, huh?"
"I don't know," Jennifer sighed. "I mean, well. How does it fit? I can't even
get my finger in my butt hole without it hurting."
Again, Darlene chuckled. "There are tricks to it. I don't mean to be gross but
you shit turds that are bigger than you finger without it hurting, right?"
"I guess."
"So one trick is to push out with your rectal muscles like you're pushing out a
turd. That opens up your bottom and a finger will just about get sucked in.
Problem two, and I did it, too, is that you're probably using a soapy finger
when you're in the tub and the soap is irritating and drying. Try Vaseline or
K-Y."
"I just can't believe I'm talking to my mother about anal sex," Jennifer
groaned, rolling her eyes again.
"Who better to discuss it with? Some guy from school? Now, a guy's penis is a
lot bigger than your finger. When you're engaged, I'll tell you how to make it
comfortable with your future husband."
"Using butt plugs, starting with a small one and getting bigger, right?"
"You have been reading, haven't you."
"Do you have any butt plugs?"
"Yes," Darlene answered, really blushing for the first time since the
conversation started.
"So you and daddy really do... Geez. Does it hurt?"
"No."
"Do you like it?"
"When I'm in the right mood, I love it," Darlene admitted. "And that brings me
back to lecture one. No penis in your mouth, vagina, or anus. Period. Not until
you're at least thirty," Darlene insisted sternly.
"You're barely thirty," Jennifer shot back with a pout. "And you don't even look
or act that."
"Oh, do I ever love you," Darlene squealed. "Just when I'm feeling over the hill
and old from being over thirty... You made my day! Thanks."
"So what are you looking for?" Jennifer asked her mother, glad to be off the
embarrassing and confusing subject of sex.
"I don't know," she sighed, plopping her bottom down on the bed next to her
daughter. "Something to turn your dad on."
"Something sexy, huh," Jennifer observed. "Guys are into garter belts and
stockings and high heels and stuff."
"Yeah, but I've done that. Some wise, older women taught me that all men are
polygamous..."
"What's that?"
"They want more than one woman."
"Like a harem."
"Yes," Darlene chuckled. "So to help keep a man faithful, a good wife should be
many different women. I'm looking for something completely different from the
real me."
"Is that why you have those two wigs? The short black one and the long blond
one?"
"Yes," Darlene admitted, feeling bashful again. "Because when I wear them, I
become somebody else. Older or younger, smarter or bimbo. You know.
Role-playing. Acting. A game, but a serious one that helps..."
"I know!" Jennifer squealed, jumping up and running from the room. "It'll be
perfect," Darlene heard along with her daughter's footfalls on the stairs. A few
seconds later, Jennifer's feet beat a staccato tempo back down the stairs and
the hallway to her parent's room.
"This!" Jennifer announced, holding up her junior high cheerleader's uniform.
"It's too short and too tight, and on you it'll be nothing but incredibly sexy,
especially with bobby sox and those high-heeled sneakers that you got for me."
Darlene blushed crimson, imagining Dwayne's reaction. He'd love it. But would
she have the courage to wear such an outfit in public at her age? "What the
heck," Darlene laughed. "It'll turn dad on and I get turned on sometimes when
I'm embarrassed, so I'll do it. But I want to look as young as possible."
"Sure. I'll put your hair up in ponytails on each side of your head. Oh, this is
fun," Jennifer squealed, taking up a brush to stroke her mother's long hair.
"Let me shower first," Darlene told her daughter. "And check on the kids,
please."
Darlene took a quick shower, then returned to shave her legs and, realizing what
a turn-on it would be for Dwayne, her pussy and lower belly. She pulled on her
robe before she went back to her dressing table to find her daughter waiting.
"Can I help? Get you ready, I mean," Jennifer offered.
"I'd like that."
"So, how do we... I don't know what I'm doing," Jennifer sighed in exasperation.
"We're turning me into a teenager," Darlene giggled. "Just for fun."
"Well, I mean, you're... You have the, well, a super figure since the aerobics
and exercises and you look younger, really young, but, well, what kind of bra?
Know what I mean?"
"I already decided that. I've only used these a couple of times but they're
perfect for the outfit," Darlene told her daughter, finding the box of flesh
colored latex half cups in the closet. "I'll be perkier than you are," she
laughed, lifting her left arm and positioning one under her left breast. "See?
They glue on with spirit gum. It takes some work with cold cream or nail polish
remover to get them off but they're squishy enough I can leave them on until
they fall off if I want. That's what I did last time. When I exercised and
sweated, they just came loose."
"Awesome."
"Thanks."
"I'll do your hair." Jennifer ran back to her room to find two scrunchies to
match the cheerleading outfit. By the time her daughter got back, Darlene had
glued the flesh-colored cups to the bottom of her breasts to make them look
"perky to the max'," as Jennifer put it. The top was way too small, too tight,
and too short, leaving a generous band of bare belly showing. The knit sweater
was too thick to show her nipples, but it fit tight enough that every jiggle of
her large breasts was obvious to anyone who bothered to look her way.
Darlene debated the selection of panties with her daughter. "I don't want to
look too sluttish," she told Jennifer. "But I don't want to cover up too much."
Sheer was out. The skirt was short and flippy enough that it was sure to reveal
whatever was under there. Full coverage panties didn't seem right, either.
Together, they finally decided on a thong exercise brief.
"I hope your dad likes it," Darlene worried aloud, looking at herself in the
full-length mirror on the back of the bedroom door. She knew that he would but
she worried anyway.
"It's just so weird thinking about parents having sex," Jennifer told her
mother.
"Who better to have sex? Not you. Not yet."
"OK," Jennifer agreed.
"Just tell me when you think you're ready and we'll talk about it, OK?"
"OK. So how long do you think you guys'll be out tonight?"
"I have no idea, but you have the pager number. Page me if you have any problem
with the kids."
"OK," she answered again. "See ya." Jennifer ran off, leaving Darlene's mind to
run wild.
'Wild is right,' Darlene thought. She had brought home a set of 'home study
guides' with instructions for the next three weeks, a pile of dated and sealed
envelopes. For this first week, she had to become a different person each day.
The instructions also forbid making love or even masturbating... in bed. But it
was anything goes anywhere or on anything except the bed.
She had shared them with Dwayne. The paper allowed her to do so but didn't
require it. She was also supposed to talk to her husband about fantasies, both
hers and his. Yesterday, she wore a pair of garter hose under a dress she hadn't
been able to wear in years, no panties, her highest heeled black pumps, and the
blonde wig.
They took a walk and talked. Dwayne opened up a little, saying that he was
turned on by Clarice's antics and loved the idea of a 'slut wife'. Dwayne told
Darlene that he recognized her sexual nature and loved watching her almost as
much as he loved screwing her. Darlene was surprised at the wide variety of his
fantasies: forcing a woman to pay for his services as a mechanic with sex;
forcing a woman to suck his cock to prevent his revealing her illicit liaisons
that he accidentally saw; pimping Darlene out as a prostitute; inducing her to
dance topless for his friends; and dozens of others. Just hearing the fantasies
turned Darlene on. And as it got dark, he felt her up in front of a neighbor's
home, screened by an overgrown hedge. When she was about to burst, he stopped.
They ended up in the back yard. She was petrified when he pulled the top off
over her head, hanging it on the corner of the swing set. The metal seat of the
swing was icy on her bare bottom as Dwayne settled on the ground, cross legged
in front of her, and licked her pussy for an eternity as she gripped the chains,
trying not to fall off backward during the series of orgasms that wracked her
body. When she was exhausted, Dwayne knelt up and drove his cock into her in one
thrust. It slid in easily. Then he moved the swing, fucking her onto his prick
as he held still until his own orgasm approached. Near his explosion, he was
slamming into her crotch, bouncing the swing backward. All Darlene could do was
hold on. And come again.
What would tonight hold?
-*-
Dwayne called to say he was going to be late. They both knew that the overtime
would be nice for back-to-school shopping, so Darlene didn't really mind. Much.
Except she wanted to go to the bedroom and stroke her pussy, but she couldn't.
Instead, she stood in the kitchen with the front of her skirt up and her hand
down the front of her panties, listening nervously for the approach of any of
her kids. She felt relatively safe. Power Rangers was on TV. But she tensed
during every ad, ready to yank her hand out. It was frustrating. Since she
couldn't concentrate on her pleasure, she couldn't come, but damn, did she ever
get _HOT_!
The younger kids were already in bed when Dwayne finally got home at 9:30. He
ran up to kiss them good night. When he came back down, he stepped up in front
of his wife and said, "You're going to have to pay for the new engine somehow."
Taking the cue, Darlene whined, "But sir, I thought all it would need was a
tune-up. I don't have enough money to pay for a whole new motor. I don't even
have enough to pay for just a tune-up. I was hoping maybe I could pay some other
way, like working in the shop, cleaning the floor, or something."
"You're going to be cleaning pipes," Dwayne told her, clutching at his blue
jeans covered crotch. Darlene was afraid Dwayne would demand that she perform
right there in the kitchen with Jennifer and Donald still awake, but he called
into the living room, "I have to go back to the shop. You two be good."
"OK, dad," Donald called back.
"Get in the truck," he ordered his wife. "And take off your panties if you're
wearing any, you little slut."
Darlene made a show of peeling off her thong exercise panties from under the
flippy skirt before walking out of the house. She buckled herself into the
passenger side and waited for Dwayne. When he got in, he snapped, "In the
middle," and flipped the armrest up.
"Yes, sir," Darlene agreed in what she hoped was a little girl voice to match
her outfit.
"Play with your pussy," he ordered as soon as she had the lap belt buckled. He
climbed in and started the engine, sliding his hand up the inside of Darlene's
thighs and back toward her knees as he reached for the stick shift. He repeated
the caress as he made each shift, until they were cruising in high gear. [I love
that sentence!] Then he reached around her shoulders and pulled her against him,
so he could slip his hand under the short, tight sweater to pinch her nipples.
At the shop, Dwayne opened the door and quickly keyed in the code to turn off
the alarm system. Then he ordered his wife to strip nude while he lectured her
on how expensive repairs could be, and how the shop lost money when people
didn't pay for the repairs that they requested.
Dwayne ordered her to play with herself again by holding a pneumatic tool
against her pussy. She didn't even know it was the back end of a right-angle air
wrench, but she got off on the powerful vibration. The heat produced by the tool
added to the naughtiness of the whole scene. Then she sucked on his already rock
hard cock before he fucked her, telling her to finger herself to another orgasm
while he did.
"That was wild," they both panted as sperm oozed out of Darlene's well-fucked
cunt. Then they laughed.
"I love you," Darlene told her husband.
"I love you, too," he reciprocated.
"So what other wild fantasies do you have?"
"A nooner," he told her, still a little uncertain. "Would you like to bring me
lunch tomorrow?"
"I'd love to."
"Wear something really slutty."
"Why? So you can show me off to the guys?"
"Yes. They'll all be out of their minds with jealousy."
